Particularly with the visit of Washington Post editor Len Downie just days away (whose speech we should have up online soon, for those who are curious), some of us at Spec followed closely the development of the rival New York Times‘ now-infamous story detailing (sort of) the romantic/professional ties of Republican candidate Senator John McCain with various lobbyists. The piece, which broke the story and was followed quickly by a Post article the same day (and which Downie admitted the Post needed before running their piece) took close to a year to develop. It drew instant backlash - to the point that the actual news was lost on some. Here, the Times editors respond to readers’ questions on everything from reporting logistics to the ethical merits of the decision to run the piece without what some would call key evidence. These Q&As with editors can make for great reads - at the same time, one can sometimes feel the judicious calculations made by the Times in how they pick and choose their response. Note, for example, a question about the Editorial side’s endorsement of McCain and whether it conflicts or has any relation to the News side’s work. While it may have been a coincidence, the Times was well-served by having the politics editor answer that one - after all, by its very nature, that editor could not speak for the Editorial side.

Also, an aside: Stephen Colbert’s hilarious segment on the “bad…bad journalism” exhibited by the Times. As one former Spec editor mentioned, maybe the “newspaper of record” simply got this one right, regardless?

Now, the actual point of this post. Thinking about the McCain story makes me think of the state of the media in general. If the Times can be discredited so well, so quickly, on a piece that took months of reporting, fact-checking, and editorial review, it seems anything can happen. Regardless of how one feels about the piece (I’m still iffy on its validity, myself), it speaks to the power of the press today, when watchdog journalism carries with it the perils of instant vilification in the blogosphere. The mainstream media, however small or traditional (read: reactionary) its role in the world, must feel threatened by all this. The Times also reports on an alternative form of media, Wikileaks.org, being shut down by a federal judge, drawing comparisons to the Supreme Court Pentagon Papers case. Ironically, the article reports:
“The feebleness of the action suggests that the bank, and the judge, did not understand how the domain system works or how quickly Web communities will move to counter actions they see as hostile to free speech online.”
Perhaps the Internet will save journalism? Perhaps.

I’ve been slow to post lately - there’s been a lot going on. The Spec is happy to welcome Washington Post executive editor Leonard Downie Jr. to Low Library Saturday night for our annual Blue Pencil lecture event. Mr. Downie, long-time top dog at the Post, will speak at 8:30 p.m. He’ll describe his views on the journalism industry and talk about diversity in a newsroom, the war in Iraq, and top stories making the news cycle. Semi-formal attire is requested.

The NYT ran an article the other day that has been floating around the Copy section ever since (and props to Amanda Sebba, a former Copy associate herself, who has been enjoying it with the rest of us). It can be found here: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/18/nyregion/18semicolon.html?ex=1360990800&en=d1bd9cdb6531580c&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss.

I’m not sure the semicolon has really been entirely jettisoned as a “pretentious anachronism,” but while Neil Neches should of course be commended on his correct usage of the notoriously slippery punctuation mark, this seemed like a good time to make my Editors Blog debut talking about something near and dear to all the copy editors at Spectator—the mighty em dash (see what I just did there??).

While we take most of Spec style from the Associated Press Stylebook, which is pretty much standard fare for most newspapers around the country, we are pretty strict on semicolon usage, which is not explicitly prohibited by the AP. The basic rationale is that this is a newspaper, not a Lit Hum paper, and as copy editors, we value writing that is clear, concise, and vigorous. Semicolons tend to obscure that goal by making sentences longer, so we use the more direct (and pretty) em dash.
Observe:
“The exhibit shows Johns’ willingness to experiment with different materials—paint, pencil, charcoal, and clay are all present, as well as silverware, rulers, flashlights, and string.”

The em dash basically takes the place of a semicolon and provides a clearer, more distinct pause between the two parts of the sentence. We love em dashes so much, in fact, that above the copydesk there is a sign that says “OPTION+SHIFT+HYPHEN” (the way to make an em dash on a Mac) to remind wayward Op-ed columnists and newswriters on deadline.

Not that most (any?) of you care about punctuation TOO much, but it’s worth nothing that the cockles of this copy editor’s heart were further warmed by the correction appended to the Times article and sent to me by News associate and former Copy staffer Mary Kohlmann:
“An article in some editions on Monday about a New York City Transit employee’s deft use of the semicolon in a public service placard was less deft in its punctuation of the title of a book by Lynne Truss, who called the placard a “lovely example” of proper punctuation. The title of the book is “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” — not “Eats Shoots & Leaves.” (The subtitle of Ms. Truss’s book is “The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation.”)”

The iron fist of Copy justice strikes again!

During one of my classes on Tuesday, I received the following e-mail from Tom Faure: “Yeah, my winter coat’s zipper is broken and I haven’t slept since Sunday. It’s time for a snowball fight. RIGHT NOW. … If you want a chance to throw snowballs at Amanda Sebba you may do so anytime–fire at will–no need to organize.” Putting aside the fact that it is NOT okay to throw snowballs at me anytime, Tom’s idea was great. We didn’t end up having our snowball fight until later that night, but it was worth the wait—and the 26 e-mails that followed Tom’s in the g-mail chain in order to plan the event.

Around 9, about half of the managing board headed down to Riverside Park to act like 8-year-olds. Our snowball fight turned into more of a snow fight, since the snow was too powdery to pack (being from Florida, I clearly know a lot about snowball-making techniques). The scene was exactly what you’d expect from a bunch of editors who have spent a lot of time together in recent weeks. Perhaps unsurprisingly, our sports editor decided that tackling people made it a lot easier to throw snow at them. Our online editor took some great photos that might make their way onto this blog eventually, but her camera was hit by more than one snowball in the process. Our finance director made some impressive sneak attacks. And, in case you were wondering, the girls won the fight.

When it was all over—i.e., when our hands were too cold to continue—we went back to the office for some hot chocolate. Finally, we all settled back into our editing jobs and put out the paper, since, you know, we needed to get around to that at some point.

The Eye got an awesome e-mail this week; I wanted to share it, but not badly enough to print it. (I hate talking about poop–this seriously qualifies as a “thing” with me—and I didn’t want the subject to grace our pages two weeks in a row.)

Here’s a link to the original article.

The e-mail is pasted below.

Dear Mr. Raphael Pope-Sussman,

I will have you know that the fist person who, having closed a toilet seat, took it into his head to say this is mine and found people simple enough to believe him, was the true founder of civil society. I should say immediately that I, too, used to have my own toilet. Twas indeed a throne, and I confess I know the “corpulent and pasty thighs” of those strangers of whom you speak. They haunted me for a time, but then I became a Communist. Now I share my toilet openly with all - and I highly recommend you yourself take a spin on it. (Get in touch, but wait until you’re sure it’s gonna be a good one.) You will not fail to be impressed with what Wien has to offer, except in one very important category that I sure you’re familiar with.

My complaints reside not with your pseudo-Lockean drivel, of course, but with the insensitivity I perceived in your diatribe to my own anal sensitivity. You’re right: You are no rocket scientist. And just four people shouldn’t go through an entire roll of toilet paper every day. It is this very intelligent declaration that concerns me, but not as a jumping-ground for suspicion of some hygienic intruder like perhaps my socialist self, as you intended it to be. Instead, I see your reflection as a noble and furious testimony of the greatest challenge facing Columbia University and every institutional bathroom in the Universe:

bad

toilet

paper.

Allow me to explain. The toilet paper at this revoltingly rich, elite University has the texture of fucking sandpaper. Besides providing my guests and myself with that acute sensation one might imagine a diamond feels at the polisher’s, the stuff they call toilet paper here doesn’t even work. The highly inefficient process of using more to wipe more only compounds the problem of anal pore suffering. On a good day, with a nice solid turd, I can cap off at three wipes. Most days aren’t good days. I hope this helps you to understand the dearth of toilet paper situation you mention, which I suggest we rename “the excess of coated-abrasives situation.” To repeat, you have no toilet precisely because it doesn’t work.

So we have a problem to solve. Often when people have problems to solve, they ask, “What next?” I have often considered we go on a poop strike. I can hear it now replaying endlessly on Fox News: “DEAN COLUMBO, HELP MY BUM YO!” We will most certainly invite Bollinger and his wife to come shit on the port-A-potties we could set up on Low Steps. When it’s time to wipe, you know what they’re getting.

Or, I could just save us all the fun and buy my own toilet paper. I hope I have found in you a sympathetic reader.

Yours truly,

Christopher Brian Duncan