I say we all start drinking. Now.
Antonia's got a doozy.
Thursday, August 3, 2006
Vamping the Sideboard
I'm only on Page 17 of my latest rewrite, so home haul-assing is in order.
In the meantime, you should go welcome some new links to the sideboard. Frequent commenters both, Jutratest and WCDixon both work in CanTV and have their own blogs to prove it.
Go and Sally Forth, and especially thrill to this entry Will's posted. He links to an article from the great Aaron Barnhart, TV critic for a KC paper (who I remember most fondly from his email list years ago about the Letterman show. That's right, kids. A TV fan who became a paid TV critic. It is to swoon.) Apparently there's going to be too much good TV this fall.
Kid, meet candy store.
In the meantime, you should go welcome some new links to the sideboard. Frequent commenters both, Jutratest and WCDixon both work in CanTV and have their own blogs to prove it.
Go and Sally Forth, and especially thrill to this entry Will's posted. He links to an article from the great Aaron Barnhart, TV critic for a KC paper (who I remember most fondly from his email list years ago about the Letterman show. That's right, kids. A TV fan who became a paid TV critic. It is to swoon.) Apparently there's going to be too much good TV this fall.
Kid, meet candy store.
Wednesday, August 2, 2006
Dude! That's wack! Or...sick! Or...God, I Don't Even Know Anymore.
To: God@heaven.org
From: I.fecan@CTV.ca
Dear God And/Or Santa:
I know you've given me everything I could possibly hope for in terms of utter domination of the Canadian TV landscape, but if you could feel free to bless my network, CTV, with some free awesome publicity, that would be awesome.
Love, Ivan Fecan
CEO, Bell GlobeMedia
Reply To: I.fecan@CTV.ca
From: Santa@northpole.ca
Done, and done.
How about this:
Uh. Yeah. He also, like...dies in the first episode.
Um. A majority of Americans think Saddam had WMD's. A Majority of Canadians think we're loved around the world as peacekeepers. The Daily Show really IS becoming the most trusted name in news. Dude. That ship has so sailed.
I'll bet. Hey, Waiter? I'll have what he's smoking.
From: I.fecan@CTV.ca
Dear God And/Or Santa:
I know you've given me everything I could possibly hope for in terms of utter domination of the Canadian TV landscape, but if you could feel free to bless my network, CTV, with some free awesome publicity, that would be awesome.
Love, Ivan Fecan
CEO, Bell GlobeMedia
Reply To: I.fecan@CTV.ca
From: Santa@northpole.ca
Done, and done.
How about this:
VANCOUVER (CP) - Gold medal snowboarder Ross Rebagliati is suing CTV over a television show he says makes him look like a drunken criminal.
CTV and Boardwatch Productions are airing a new television show called Whistler.
But lawyer Joyce Thayer says the lead character looks exactly like Rebagliati.
The character is a drunk driver who leaves a woman paralyzed in a hit-run accident.
Uh. Yeah. He also, like...dies in the first episode.
Rebagliati says he's had strangers approach him and ask if he's the one in the show.
He says he's concerned people are losing the connection between fact and fiction.
Um. A majority of Americans think Saddam had WMD's. A Majority of Canadians think we're loved around the world as peacekeepers. The Daily Show really IS becoming the most trusted name in news. Dude. That ship has so sailed.
Thayer says their suit doesn't quantify the damages they are seeking but she says they are significant.
I'll bet. Hey, Waiter? I'll have what he's smoking.
Slings: The Love You Take IS Equal To The Love You Make
For the Second Week in a row, Slings & Arrows delivered a sucker punch ending surrounding William Hutt's character, Charles Kingman, the actor playing King Lear in the New Burbage Festival's production.
Of course, each season of Slings manages to nicely weave the theme of the major production through the offstage storylines. I guess I'm a traditionalist that way, but I really much prefer TV writing -- especially in drama -- where the various plotlines all comment and expand upon aspects of the same theme.
Of course, you're not going to find a more potent broth to steal from than King Lear, but still, even in the early stages, the way that they're setting up the conflict between age and youth, and echoing the idea of the faithful daughter (Cordelia) versus the interlopers -- well, all of it is tremendously satisfying. Especially if you've read your Shakespeare.
For as much as sometimes I get down on Canadian TV in this blog, this is where I start to get really pissed off. The people who do this show have one of Broadway's biggest hits right now. This show is funny, and heartfelt, and as well-executed as anything I've ever seen come from an American and British source.
So where is the coverage?
Where are the articles? The Ads? The columns? The buzz?
I'm not talking about the half-assed "Slings and Arrows returns" pieces that greet the premiere. Any half-assed piece of shit gets that sop thrown at them -- usually all reprinting the same article by Canadian Press.
I have no truck with people who say you should watch Canadian produced shows just cause they're Canadian, if you're Canadian. That's a load. But Slings is one of the cases where, if you're not watching it, I can honestly say that culturally, humanistically, and from an entertainment point of view -- it's your loss.
So why is no one writing that?
Anyway, back to the ending. Hutt's performance is something -- fearsome, reducing cute little Sarah Polley to tears like that -- and then at the end you find out why and it's perfect, of course, but also...wow. It makes me realize anew the ultimate truth of TV writing -- Directors and Network types will always talk about the opening, and the teaser, as where you absolutely need to grab and hold the audience's attention. That's true, as far as it goes. But the real punch to the gut that brings you back -- where the decision to return is really made, far as I know -- is the ending. The ending, the ending, the ending. That's where your casual viewer converts to a loyal, regular viewer -- no matter how cluttered the viewing landscape.
LOST knows this. DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES used to know it, and hopefully will again. 24 is all over that. And SLINGS, with a tenth of the budget and nowhere near the histrionics of those American shows -- understands that lesson too.
And just because I couldn't figure out how to work it into the body of this post: Chris Leavins has a very deft turn as Geoffrey's therapist. Puts Huff to shame.
Of course, each season of Slings manages to nicely weave the theme of the major production through the offstage storylines. I guess I'm a traditionalist that way, but I really much prefer TV writing -- especially in drama -- where the various plotlines all comment and expand upon aspects of the same theme.
Of course, you're not going to find a more potent broth to steal from than King Lear, but still, even in the early stages, the way that they're setting up the conflict between age and youth, and echoing the idea of the faithful daughter (Cordelia) versus the interlopers -- well, all of it is tremendously satisfying. Especially if you've read your Shakespeare.
For as much as sometimes I get down on Canadian TV in this blog, this is where I start to get really pissed off. The people who do this show have one of Broadway's biggest hits right now. This show is funny, and heartfelt, and as well-executed as anything I've ever seen come from an American and British source.
So where is the coverage?
Where are the articles? The Ads? The columns? The buzz?
I'm not talking about the half-assed "Slings and Arrows returns" pieces that greet the premiere. Any half-assed piece of shit gets that sop thrown at them -- usually all reprinting the same article by Canadian Press.
I have no truck with people who say you should watch Canadian produced shows just cause they're Canadian, if you're Canadian. That's a load. But Slings is one of the cases where, if you're not watching it, I can honestly say that culturally, humanistically, and from an entertainment point of view -- it's your loss.
So why is no one writing that?
Anyway, back to the ending. Hutt's performance is something -- fearsome, reducing cute little Sarah Polley to tears like that -- and then at the end you find out why and it's perfect, of course, but also...wow. It makes me realize anew the ultimate truth of TV writing -- Directors and Network types will always talk about the opening, and the teaser, as where you absolutely need to grab and hold the audience's attention. That's true, as far as it goes. But the real punch to the gut that brings you back -- where the decision to return is really made, far as I know -- is the ending. The ending, the ending, the ending. That's where your casual viewer converts to a loyal, regular viewer -- no matter how cluttered the viewing landscape.
LOST knows this. DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES used to know it, and hopefully will again. 24 is all over that. And SLINGS, with a tenth of the budget and nowhere near the histrionics of those American shows -- understands that lesson too.
And just because I couldn't figure out how to work it into the body of this post: Chris Leavins has a very deft turn as Geoffrey's therapist. Puts Huff to shame.
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
That's All Well And Good, But What About The Feelings of The Sugar-Titted Community?
So the Mel apologies keep right on coming.
Y'know, the whole weekend I kept thinking that this scene was so over the top that if you wrote it you'd get a bunch of notes about how over the top it was.
Has Real Life Always been OTT, or is that a more or less recent thing?
What It's Like Being Alone in a Northern Town
Caught a couple of new CBC summertime offerings last night.
The first was a CBC half hour comedy called Northern Town. This is a series set in the Yukon, and it's kind of like a Canadian Northern Exposure. Good so far. I loved Northern Exposure.
The whole thing seems to be built around a meteorite that explodes one night over the town. Slacker Brian (Luke Kirby) wants to find it and get rich. His hyper-loquacious boss, Heinz (Tom McCamus) is a skeptical naysayer in a winning deadpan performance. Good thing he has crazy Iveson (the always winning David Fox) to inspire him. There's also cutie wildlife officer Mona (Jessica Greco) who manages to be gamine and winning with her hands in bloody marmot entrails (don't ask.)
Northern Town is a sweet little series populated by oddballs with their own little obsessions. (I told you it was NX-like) but with a nice Canadian perspective. The main character saying, "I don't want to do this," while doing something -- well, that's Canadian to the core. And Iveson's quixotic desire to defend Yukon airspace from the Americans flying out of Alaska, well...let's say that I usually don't find the phrase "godd**** Americans!" funny. But in this case -- it's all in the delivery.
The show comes courtesy of Daniel Irons, one of the producers of Slings & Arrows, Daniel Janke, a writer based in Whitehorse, and Director Gary Burns. Other writers include Kate Miles Melville and Bob Martin -- who also wrote Slings and is currently heating up Broadway as Man in Chair in The Drowsy Chaperone.
The show could perhaps be a little tighter...but they've got the right cast and it's a setting we haven't seen -- at least not since NX. It has terrible opening credits, however. Like, Grade School Art project terrible. More glitter and macaroni, please!
This is a show that if nurtured and supported, could have the potential of becoming CBC's Corner Gas.
And they'll probably strangle it in the crib. Wheee!
I wanted to like What It's Like Being Alone. And I'll probably give it another chance. The animated series comes from Brad Peyton, an ex-Canadian Film Centre Guy who grabbed a lot of heat a few years back for his hilarious short Evelyn the Cutest Little Dead Girl. It was produced by new CBC Head of Programming or whatever his title is, Fred Fuchs. There's a lot to recommend the show: it's got that Tim Burton-Nightmare Before Christmas kind of look -- there's a crazy character named Princess Lucy who flops back and forth from being annoying to being funny in the same scene. I'm sick, but there's also a one armed character named Armie whose head hits the floor any time he tries to use his one appendage to do anything. It's that kind of show.
Ostensibly, there are all these ugly orphans in an orphanage just trying to get by. Good setup. But the jokes are obvious and a little heavy handed. The second half of both episodes I've seen, once the plot kicked in, I didn't laugh once. There's something there, but it desperately needs a story editor.
But they did manage to namecheck my favorite flash thing ever. Shout out to Strindberg & Helium!
Both shows are a step up from what CBC has commissioned over the last few years in terms of ambition and execution. Let's see if they survive the new regime.
The first was a CBC half hour comedy called Northern Town. This is a series set in the Yukon, and it's kind of like a Canadian Northern Exposure. Good so far. I loved Northern Exposure.
The whole thing seems to be built around a meteorite that explodes one night over the town. Slacker Brian (Luke Kirby) wants to find it and get rich. His hyper-loquacious boss, Heinz (Tom McCamus) is a skeptical naysayer in a winning deadpan performance. Good thing he has crazy Iveson (the always winning David Fox) to inspire him. There's also cutie wildlife officer Mona (Jessica Greco) who manages to be gamine and winning with her hands in bloody marmot entrails (don't ask.)
Northern Town is a sweet little series populated by oddballs with their own little obsessions. (I told you it was NX-like) but with a nice Canadian perspective. The main character saying, "I don't want to do this," while doing something -- well, that's Canadian to the core. And Iveson's quixotic desire to defend Yukon airspace from the Americans flying out of Alaska, well...let's say that I usually don't find the phrase "godd**** Americans!" funny. But in this case -- it's all in the delivery.
The show comes courtesy of Daniel Irons, one of the producers of Slings & Arrows, Daniel Janke, a writer based in Whitehorse, and Director Gary Burns. Other writers include Kate Miles Melville and Bob Martin -- who also wrote Slings and is currently heating up Broadway as Man in Chair in The Drowsy Chaperone.
The show could perhaps be a little tighter...but they've got the right cast and it's a setting we haven't seen -- at least not since NX. It has terrible opening credits, however. Like, Grade School Art project terrible. More glitter and macaroni, please!
This is a show that if nurtured and supported, could have the potential of becoming CBC's Corner Gas.
And they'll probably strangle it in the crib. Wheee!
I wanted to like What It's Like Being Alone. And I'll probably give it another chance. The animated series comes from Brad Peyton, an ex-Canadian Film Centre Guy who grabbed a lot of heat a few years back for his hilarious short Evelyn the Cutest Little Dead Girl. It was produced by new CBC Head of Programming or whatever his title is, Fred Fuchs. There's a lot to recommend the show: it's got that Tim Burton-Nightmare Before Christmas kind of look -- there's a crazy character named Princess Lucy who flops back and forth from being annoying to being funny in the same scene. I'm sick, but there's also a one armed character named Armie whose head hits the floor any time he tries to use his one appendage to do anything. It's that kind of show.Ostensibly, there are all these ugly orphans in an orphanage just trying to get by. Good setup. But the jokes are obvious and a little heavy handed. The second half of both episodes I've seen, once the plot kicked in, I didn't laugh once. There's something there, but it desperately needs a story editor.
But they did manage to namecheck my favorite flash thing ever. Shout out to Strindberg & Helium!
Both shows are a step up from what CBC has commissioned over the last few years in terms of ambition and execution. Let's see if they survive the new regime.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Darth Vader, The Great White Hope, and Perspective
An interesting thing happened to me last night. After a long and, sadly, not particularly lucrative poker game (though not as dire as some,) I found myself trying to find, for a friend, this hilarious video I'd come across on a website last week of a bunch of scenes from Star Wars recut so that they used James Earl Jones' voice from other movies to craft a slightly new narrative. Of course, I couldn't remember what the remix or mashup or whatever we're calling it this minute was called so I trolled YouTube.
This is the video I found first:
Pretty funny, right? I mean, I laughed, and my friend laughed at this one. Cause it's funny. But it wasn't the one I was looking for. This one was way more...well...obvious.
The one that I'd laughed my butt off a couple days before had struck me because besides being just funny, it actually took the thought to recast all of Star Wars as Vader's personal death (star) spiral: a journey that was partly racial, partly sexual in nature -- and far more the portrait of a Sith Lord in the grip of a serious existential crisis.
It was a more sophisticated piece of work. Yet it sprung from exactly the same idea -- and though entertaining, let's come out front and state for everybody, it aint exactly a rocket science, off-the-charts, original idea: take clips from other James Earl Jones movies and mash them into images from Star Wars.
See, what "The Vader Sessions" (the version below) has that the other doesn't is narrative vision. It actually arranges its clips in a cohesive way to explore a theme, and not just go for the easy laugh.
It also helps that the guy who arranged The Vader Sessions had access and knowledge of a much richer and wider palette of clips to choose from: including one of my favorite James Earl Jones movies, the film adaptation of The Great White Hope. (The story of Jack Johnson. No. Not the singer from Hawaii. Seriously. If you don't know who Jack Johnson is, or his story, go. We'll wait.) See? Like Ali, only earlier. Neat, huh? Okay.
See, this is what people talk about when they say that you can't copyright an idea. I you're serious about telling stories, the tale of the YouTube Vader mashups is where you can start on the idea of interpretation. You should also probably take a look at the two versions of the Exorcist prequel, by Paul Schrader and Renny Harlin.
But the other thing to keep in mind when you're exploring this territory is: what's your depth? What do you know? What have you read? What have you experienced? Are you sure you're attacking your story from a fresh point of view that actually takes into account what came before?
I remember when I was in high school, and I'd hear a song and someone would later tell me that the version that I'd heard was a cover, I'd feel a little silly or ashamed that I didn't know the original version. These days, I'm constantly running into people who -- never mind they don't know that riff or sample is from James Brown or whoever -- they don't care. Seriously. If you're looking to make music or generate filmed entertainment in the early years of the 21st century, and you don't realize that the medium has about a century's worth of history on you...well...then...ugh. Sad for you.
I know that this is a classic old fogey move...but I can say with conviction that over the last few years -- in the time that I've taught a new crop of 20 year olds every year...I've seen the appreciaton for and the knowledge of culture outside your immediate frame of reference go down. I think Hollywood TV weathered the storm a few years longer than it maybe should have because all those smartypants grads from Harvard actually had a good education -- but education doesn't replace curiosity, especially when it comes to culture.
And not knowing about "The Great White Hope" seriously burns you when you're trying to do the definitive James Earl Jones Vader mashup. Just sayin'.
Here's The Vader Sessions on YouTube:
Or check out the original site and tell them what you think.
This is the video I found first:
Pretty funny, right? I mean, I laughed, and my friend laughed at this one. Cause it's funny. But it wasn't the one I was looking for. This one was way more...well...obvious.
The one that I'd laughed my butt off a couple days before had struck me because besides being just funny, it actually took the thought to recast all of Star Wars as Vader's personal death (star) spiral: a journey that was partly racial, partly sexual in nature -- and far more the portrait of a Sith Lord in the grip of a serious existential crisis.
It was a more sophisticated piece of work. Yet it sprung from exactly the same idea -- and though entertaining, let's come out front and state for everybody, it aint exactly a rocket science, off-the-charts, original idea: take clips from other James Earl Jones movies and mash them into images from Star Wars.
See, what "The Vader Sessions" (the version below) has that the other doesn't is narrative vision. It actually arranges its clips in a cohesive way to explore a theme, and not just go for the easy laugh.
It also helps that the guy who arranged The Vader Sessions had access and knowledge of a much richer and wider palette of clips to choose from: including one of my favorite James Earl Jones movies, the film adaptation of The Great White Hope. (The story of Jack Johnson. No. Not the singer from Hawaii. Seriously. If you don't know who Jack Johnson is, or his story, go. We'll wait.) See? Like Ali, only earlier. Neat, huh? Okay.
See, this is what people talk about when they say that you can't copyright an idea. I you're serious about telling stories, the tale of the YouTube Vader mashups is where you can start on the idea of interpretation. You should also probably take a look at the two versions of the Exorcist prequel, by Paul Schrader and Renny Harlin.
But the other thing to keep in mind when you're exploring this territory is: what's your depth? What do you know? What have you read? What have you experienced? Are you sure you're attacking your story from a fresh point of view that actually takes into account what came before?
I remember when I was in high school, and I'd hear a song and someone would later tell me that the version that I'd heard was a cover, I'd feel a little silly or ashamed that I didn't know the original version. These days, I'm constantly running into people who -- never mind they don't know that riff or sample is from James Brown or whoever -- they don't care. Seriously. If you're looking to make music or generate filmed entertainment in the early years of the 21st century, and you don't realize that the medium has about a century's worth of history on you...well...then...ugh. Sad for you.
I know that this is a classic old fogey move...but I can say with conviction that over the last few years -- in the time that I've taught a new crop of 20 year olds every year...I've seen the appreciaton for and the knowledge of culture outside your immediate frame of reference go down. I think Hollywood TV weathered the storm a few years longer than it maybe should have because all those smartypants grads from Harvard actually had a good education -- but education doesn't replace curiosity, especially when it comes to culture.
And not knowing about "The Great White Hope" seriously burns you when you're trying to do the definitive James Earl Jones Vader mashup. Just sayin'.
Here's The Vader Sessions on YouTube:
Or check out the original site and tell them what you think.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Torn in Toronto
So, here's the deal.
This blog gets many more hits than comments. I do mix it up a bit -- probably write too much about the CBC, but you know, it's the summer. I keep up the TV writing stuff when I can, and I do enjoy writing about other work. But I don't think I've ever been shy that the primary function of this blog, for me, is to give focus (and thereby, control) my bouts of procrastination.
We're about three weeks away from my blog-a-versary here, and I'm faced with a philosophical decision.
It's about commenting. Anonymous commenting.
Blogger lets you set three levels of comments. The first, and most restrictive, means that only "members" of the blog can comment. Not what I'm looking for. The second allows people who've registered an account with Blogger to comment. It's easy to sign up. I think they still have it worded so you "have to set up a blog" to comment -- but you really don't. You can just go through all the steps and then just register without starting a blog. It means you have a screenname, and any blogger blogs you go to, you'll be able to comment under that screen name.
It's the first level that's giving me pause. Blogger also allows a setting where "anyone" can comment. You see these -- they're the 'Anonymous' comments that show up. It's the quickest and easiest way to go. It means you'll get more feedback.
But...
It also means that the person really is anonymous.
I have a longstanding disdain for anonymous commenting going back over my whole career. When I first started work at the Small Educational TV Station, at some point they started a BBS, and in that BBS there was a provision for an "Anonymous Forum" where people could post...anything. Well. They did. This Small Educational TV Station was a terribly dysfunctional place, with lots of management by fiefdom and jealousy and frustration, and poison in the air. The anonymous forum got hairy pretty quickly. And because I was a fairly voluble young guy anyway, I got accused of making a lot of the posts in that anonymous forum. And 99% of the time, it wasn't me. Nope, I was (and am) actually dumb enough to tell you what I think with attribution.
At this same Educational TV Station, there were weekly leaks to a Canadian satirical magazine called FRANK. (Kind of like Private Eye, but not as funny.) One of the top execs -- a dour humourless bureaucrat -- became convinced that I was the leaker, even though most of the stuff that appeared was material about money and decisionmaking that I didn't even come close to having access to.
Anyway, though it was meant to be a valve, this first experience with anonymity plus the internet plus the desire to stamp out those who avail themselves of anonymity left a sour taste in my mouth.
Through the years, I've found that anonymity causes people to say things they wouldn't otherwise say, and also to be, obviously, less accountable for those things.
Anonymity works when you're trying to criticize the power structure. But in this blog, there is no power structure. There's me. I don't have power, or I have exactly the power you would expect a freelance writer to have.
The bottom line is: every time there's an anonymous comment on this blog, it seems to be something posted by someone looking to say something nasty that they wouldn't say if they could be identified. Now. I'm identified with this blog, but most of the time, I don't have a dog in that fight. Nor do I want to.
I know that if I change the settings I'll make commenting fractionally harder and less democratic. But -- it will remove the stigma of being attached to remarks that I would rather not be associated with.
What do y'all think?
This blog gets many more hits than comments. I do mix it up a bit -- probably write too much about the CBC, but you know, it's the summer. I keep up the TV writing stuff when I can, and I do enjoy writing about other work. But I don't think I've ever been shy that the primary function of this blog, for me, is to give focus (and thereby, control) my bouts of procrastination.
We're about three weeks away from my blog-a-versary here, and I'm faced with a philosophical decision.
It's about commenting. Anonymous commenting.
Blogger lets you set three levels of comments. The first, and most restrictive, means that only "members" of the blog can comment. Not what I'm looking for. The second allows people who've registered an account with Blogger to comment. It's easy to sign up. I think they still have it worded so you "have to set up a blog" to comment -- but you really don't. You can just go through all the steps and then just register without starting a blog. It means you have a screenname, and any blogger blogs you go to, you'll be able to comment under that screen name.
It's the first level that's giving me pause. Blogger also allows a setting where "anyone" can comment. You see these -- they're the 'Anonymous' comments that show up. It's the quickest and easiest way to go. It means you'll get more feedback.
But...
It also means that the person really is anonymous.
I have a longstanding disdain for anonymous commenting going back over my whole career. When I first started work at the Small Educational TV Station, at some point they started a BBS, and in that BBS there was a provision for an "Anonymous Forum" where people could post...anything. Well. They did. This Small Educational TV Station was a terribly dysfunctional place, with lots of management by fiefdom and jealousy and frustration, and poison in the air. The anonymous forum got hairy pretty quickly. And because I was a fairly voluble young guy anyway, I got accused of making a lot of the posts in that anonymous forum. And 99% of the time, it wasn't me. Nope, I was (and am) actually dumb enough to tell you what I think with attribution.
At this same Educational TV Station, there were weekly leaks to a Canadian satirical magazine called FRANK. (Kind of like Private Eye, but not as funny.) One of the top execs -- a dour humourless bureaucrat -- became convinced that I was the leaker, even though most of the stuff that appeared was material about money and decisionmaking that I didn't even come close to having access to.
Anyway, though it was meant to be a valve, this first experience with anonymity plus the internet plus the desire to stamp out those who avail themselves of anonymity left a sour taste in my mouth.
Through the years, I've found that anonymity causes people to say things they wouldn't otherwise say, and also to be, obviously, less accountable for those things.
Anonymity works when you're trying to criticize the power structure. But in this blog, there is no power structure. There's me. I don't have power, or I have exactly the power you would expect a freelance writer to have.
The bottom line is: every time there's an anonymous comment on this blog, it seems to be something posted by someone looking to say something nasty that they wouldn't say if they could be identified. Now. I'm identified with this blog, but most of the time, I don't have a dog in that fight. Nor do I want to.
I know that if I change the settings I'll make commenting fractionally harder and less democratic. But -- it will remove the stigma of being attached to remarks that I would rather not be associated with.
What do y'all think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)