In the old print days, a publisher’s job was to size down the paper weight, cut down on the printing costs, bully the journalists through the editor – a kind of halfweight publisher himself, and go out on jollies all the time and get pissed as a fart, and of course, they were black tie does.
Thank gods, things have changed a lot since the Rogister stormed onto the world in 1994 and changed the whole paradiggim and shifted it too.
Now publishers’ jobs are to size down the internet costs, figure out how the print publications can possibly make money, and make sure the journalists get paid absolutely as little as possible as the interweb squeezes the multinationals more and more.
Let me give you an example. Reed Publishing used to value their editorial teams. A very senior journalist who we will not name now has the job description of Senior Data Gatherer. As if fantastic journalists are like coolies in the field – their job being to pick up bits of rice from the paddy and deliver them to the obermeisters.
Another example. There’s a certain very big publisher close to the heart of things in London which has totally demoralised its journalists. If the journalists break news, or have a bright idea, they are condemned for it. This is where worlds collide – where online journalism has finally cut the jugular to print publishing and shown them just where they are.
Nowhere, baby.
And then there are the publishers who, having got into cahoots with Google, believe that all there is in the universe is churn.
Thankfully, there is more to the universe than churn, even though, of course, the Sanskrit word samsara – which is not a perfume – means everything flowing together. Sort of a conjunction.
It is still possible to break stories, but the good news here is that benign publishers realise that. Malign publishers regard their journalists as data gatherers, or worse, not realising that a good journalist can destroy a business idea, through intelligence.
Now all these downtrodden data gatherers, working for these malign publishers, probably realise that the parradiggim has changed, but being wage slaves, they haven’t quite realised that the boot is on the other foot.
Publishers in the 21st century are now totally unnecessary, unless they can turn their rather useless hands to writing stories, rather than evoking bean counters to further reduce journalists’ wages.
The writing has been on the wall since 1995, but these dinosaur publishers haven’t yet got it. But they will, they will. And so will wage slave journalists, soon enough. Google churnalism is dead.
*EyeSee that Tom Foremski@siliconvalleywatcher.com is making in excess of $120,000 a year! Cool! Here's his Facebook vid - Tom had the courage to tell the Financial Times to get on its bike.
Get IT On. Under 'd Table, HeadDressLess. Its' Been Long,Long Bark. Reighn Exploded With Mighty Crash, Just To Emerge From SUN.
Band on Run, Bell Ringing in Village Sq. Sailor Sam Searching EveryOne, For theBAND. Town Was Searching for Us, Everyone, We Just Won't Be Found & Search'red ForEverMoore. Here Eye Remain, MerciFully.
So U Thinq U Could Tale, Smile under Veil. LeBro 'n Cage.
Welcome To theHOTEL, California. You Can Roam, You Just Cann't Leave. There Must Bee SomeWay Outta Here.
theTHEIFT Kindly Spoke, Let US Not Talk Falsely Now, Hour Getting Late. ALL ALONG WatchTower, Wind Began to Howel.
Willee' Was PinHead & Put UR Money Down, Down by CourtHouse, They Began to UnWind. Poor Boys Twang & Devils On Move, Bring UR Nickel, Cann't Be Beat, Throw It On Coronor, Early On STreet..
SSheeeish Was ALL Gone, Body Torn All to Parts. Make M Man to Kill Thee, Make Man to Kill Me. All Same, Natural Hummm p. Just to Save, Threee Timmes Day.
Police Blotter 51Trillions. Just to Scabe. Carla Where Are U. Throwing Y baby. Foam Me. Vade.
& buy dawns early light, we could see those rags are still theirs.
vondrashek mystic silver cloud....
Heres Another. At Wedding Reception, Cann't Always Get What U Want, YOU Can Get What U NKneed. Now Here. Blood Stained Hands.
Most Jurnos' Write from onSite Press RElease & Nothing More. Zoombee' Journalism. For Ads, NOT Thought. Front Line Journalism Is Differnt Bred of CAT.
Never Believe Your Eyes. Don't Listen To Their Whines. If Cann't Touch IT, Not Real. COLD Makes My Blood Run HOT. Smells Like Tubuculosis Ward.
vondrashek md
Jon Stewart's gimmick is being a modern jester, which he established (or took over) with the Daily Show as platform. The Register, I suppose, was partially irreverent, and presumably hard-hitting, news organ. Anyone can have an opinion, but it takes resources to do the correct research.
You could view publishing houses like music industry conglomerates; they had the resources to bring "talent" to an audience, but the price was a revenue stream manufactured through advertisements, sponsorships and temporary membership subscriptions. The strategy hasn't changed, but the possibility of sampling content without compensating the creators has become easier.