Eccentric Flower:201012/At A Loss

What I've learned over the years is that many people seem to read web pages first thing in the morning or not at all. So when something gets posted after about 10 am here I assume that the East Coasters (who are on Correct Time) will not see it until the next day; and if it gets posted much after noon I assume that even the West Coasters (who are on Annoying Time)* will see it a day late.

So when I don't post something until 5:30 pm (Correct Time), I am leery of then posting something else the next morning, because I also assume that many people come and simply read what's on top and never bother to go down to look at things they may have missed.

But I suppose I could be wrong, and although I am fresh out of ideas at this time, I'll try to distract you for a moment by griping about our local not-very-alternative newspaper, The Boston Phoenix.

Now of course some of you will be amused and disrespectful about the concept of newspapers at all, but until someone invents a portable electronic newspaper or periodical that I can bring into the bathroom with me, or that I can move around and turn the pages easily while it is resting on the counter next to my lunch, that is just as cheap as the actual periodicals or cheaper, that contains exactly the same content, that is as easy to use, and has advertising as easily ignored as that in the print version, all you digital types need to hush up.

I will grant that there is one electronic reading device I do actually consider usable (that would be the iPad), but it's a little pricy to read magazines on, and anyway, the magazines and newspapers have so far done a crap job of making their electronic versions match their real one. What I mean is, I will pay for the virtual Economist when it looks and reads exactly like the real Economist - I want to load it up and see the cover and open it and get exactly the same page layout as the print version, start to finish. When that happens, you will hear no more from me about the virtues of print publications. But until you win twenty in the bigs ....

Meanwhile, let's talk about old-school newspapers. (And if you're not interested, please skip down to the end, where I have an Unrelated Request for you.)

* This designation is not intended as a slight on the lovely West Coast people, but is due to the fact that most of you do seem to be over on that coast, and so when I'm looking for new content to read in the morning, most of it isn't there because you all aren't awake yet. However, the term really began with the game industry, which is overwhelmingly West Coast based, which means that many online games do things like post updates or have downtime at a time which is inconvenient for those of us who live on the correct side of the country. Such a relief to play Turbine games (they are down the road in Massachusetts)!

So, the Phoenix is but one arm of what its owner likes to consider a fearsome media empire, which includes some other quasi-alternative newspapers in other towns, a radio station or two, a thin glossy biweekly called Stuff which is all about things you might want to buy, and a major personal ad distribution network which is the secret shame of the lot, and also its most profitable bit.

The people who work at the Phoenix are still encouraged by owner Stephen Mindich's mindset to think of it as a Brave Counterculture Warrior. The Wikipedia page on it compares it to The Village Voice, a comparison which is manifestly unfair to the Voice. Mindich would like you to think that the Phoenix is the watchdog of record, the seat of investigative journalism and alternative media in Greater Boston. What the Phoenix actually is is a set of personal ads and music/club listings, plus occasionally-acute political commentary, a film reviewer who is good but on his own planet, and two very good restaurant reviewers.

The Phoenix editorial department has been kind of on my shit list lately because of some baffling decisions in their front matter. Let's put aside the matter of the "Sports Blotter," which still causes me physical pain every time I open an issue and see where it's not**, and consider another (admittedly minor) example of their randomness .... They keep an artsy semi-autobiographical cartoon (admittedly, a very well-drawn one) about how its author Karl Stevens is such a stoner loser, but they drop Brian McFadden's "Big Fat Whale" and Matt Bors' "Idiot Box" - two genuinely funny and penetratingly sarcastic strips - without warning (some months back, when I commented about the disappearance of "Big Fat Whale," I got a note from McFadden saying, "That's very interesting, seeing how they never told me they were dropping it from the print version"). They sometimes have put those two strips back in when they've decided they need them to fill page space, but only intermittently. Not a word from the editorial staff. Even the Globe gives their readers a brief note when they decide to change the content of their editorial or regular features pages. Meanwhile Stevens stays. Either he's sleeping with somebody on the staff, or they just like him because they feel he gives them artsy/alternative cred they urgently need.

The fact is, the Phoenix's "alternative" reputation was based on them being an actual alternative - to the Boston Globe. But as the Globe sinks steadily on the horizon, this leaves the Phoenix with even less of an identity than usual, and these days, when I open it every Thursday, I realize just how little there is there. One wonders if Mindich does, but I doubt it, because I suspect Mindich is oblivious to such worldly concerns. I dislike the man intensely even though I have never met him. A couple of years back I was hoping for the public-funded expansion plan to Fenway Park just because I wanted to see Mindich's headquarters taken by eminent domain. He made it clear that it would have annoyed and inconvenienced him tremendously, which to my mind was a great reason to be for it.

I never worked for the Phoenix or any of the interesting bits, but I did work briefly for Tele-Publishing Inc. a few years ago. Notice that there is absolutely no trace of the Phoenix Media Empire in the name of that company. TPI is a personal-advertising service. In the world of online and print personals, there are a small handful of services backing a wide variety of brand names, like having several different models of car which all have the same engine and frame. TPI is (or was, at the time), one of the big ones, providing not only personals for the Phoenix itself but for many other clients. But you won't hear Mindich crowing loudly about that part of his business. It's not sexy enough; it's not "alternative" enough. He will not win any Pulitzers with personal ads. I suspect Mindich salivates to win a Pulitzer; I bet he dreams of it at night.

I keep reading the Phoenix every week because it is the only game in town. I wince at the fact that it seems to have no copy-editing whatsoever (then again, neither does the Globe these days) and that its editors apparently don't feel a need to explain or justify any of their editorial decisions to anyone. But it also still has two good restaurant critics and an at-least-always-interesting-to-read film reviewer. And once in a while it does offer some political and legal reporting the Globe won't do. But when the print version of the Globe dies, I prophecy the print version of the Phoenix will not be far behind; and at its present rate of decay, I can't say I am going to miss it too much when it does.

** Some folks - hi Shmuel! - have asked me why exactly I feel the loss of "Sports Blotter" so intensely that it's still annoying me months later. The answer is, "Sports Blotter" was the only thing of its kind; there is no replacement for it. (It was a weekly column describing, with great sarcasm and vigor, which professional athletes had gotten arrested the previous week and for what.) It was the only whisper of accountability I have ever seen on this topic; the only place ever to point out, repeatedly and emphatically, exactly what sort of thugs and criminals we pay untold millions of dollars a year just to watch them run around a playing area with a ball. The only place to point out consistently how morally bankrupt the professional-athletics industry is in this country, how crimes repeatedly get excused if you're a star player, and so forth. Professional sports is a cesspool; amateur collegiate sports have long since been tainted by the same; yet if you point out how bad it is, and how stupid it is that we pay these people who are incapable of doing anything else useful with their lives such obscene amounts of money, you get criticized for pointing out the truth. I know for a fact that Matt Taibbi often pissed people off with the "Sports Blotter"; the paper printed angry letters about it once in a while. Some people really don't want to admit that their heroes haven't actually been heroes for a long time. They should be forced to.

And now for an Unrelated Announcement, as promised. As you can see from the screed above, which is pretty petty even for me, I am running low on things to gripe about. Not that I ever have too much trouble filling space with blather (it's my one skill!), but it strikes me that it could be more pertinent to your interests if you were to drop me a hint or two.

So, if you're someone who comments here and you have something you'd like to see me blather about, post it below. Or if you're a Holidailies reader and it's probably not worth your trouble to apply for a user name here, you can comment over at the Reddit comment mechanism; I'll see them. (Email is probably not timely since I check it about once a week, whereas I look at these sites many times a day.)

All reasonable and most unreasonable requests will be considered.