COVER -> MY GLASS HOUSE
And queries! More queries...
My pal, JOE O'NIELL, from Belfast --- who wrote our first IRISH EYES articles, telephoned me to offer us a shot at a great piece of investigative reporting. I received a query from a freelancer in Moscow offering me a story on the Russian mafia's latest activities.
I start pulling my hair out. Okay, I'm an Editor! I accept it! But there's still a Writer living just under my skin. And he gets more antsy by the day. That prick!
I think of this for any number of reasons. For example, G21 reporting on the NATO bombing of Kosovo last year correctly reported inaccuracies in the so-called precision bombing. Now THIS YEAR sources in the USA (Newsweek) and UK (BBC) confirm our story. Depending on the source you choose, the accuracy of this precision bombing was either 30% (the US Pentagon figure) or more like 15% (the Royal Air Force figure.)
So I have to ask: Why didn't these mammoth, multinational news organizations see what this little, essentially pro bono publication could see from taking reports from people on the ground?
FORGIVE ME, I'M LYING. MY REAL QUESTION IS: Since if we could see it, they could see; WHY DIDN'T THEY WANT TO GET THE STORY RIGHT THE FIRST TIME --- INSTEAD OF A YEAR LATER?
I don't believe they had less access than we did, it's patently clear they had much more. Logically, then, we must assume there was a reason that these media conglomerates did not go after the truth about the bombing and report it accurately. I think you get my meaning...
So in this task of being at the helm of an alternative Web publication willing to report on unpleasant or "politically incorrect " (depending on your orientation) topics, I often find myself suffering from the "Editor's Disease."
What I mean by that phrase is that I often find myself publishing stories, editorials and commentary I disagree with. This is because I tend to focus on the writing not the thesis.
I've been tempted to write rebuttals to articles published here in the G21 over the years. But I don't. That's not my place or my role, though I've certainly never stopped other writers and contributors from rebutting articles we've run.
I hope the writers here will continue to engage and disagree with each other --- and our reader comments --- as that makes for a lively dialogue.
But when I put on the "editor" hat, I feel my sole responsibility is to ensure that the author --- even if it means forcing those pesky re-writes I'm known for --- gets his or her point across to our audience in the most concise and informative way possible. That what they say is engaging, accurate, provocative and clear. This is not to say that I don't have an overall editorial stance for G21, but only that I try not to limit the conversation, the riffs played by this jazz band, to a "party line."
The Personal is Political
My e-mail correspondent from my high school days sent me along a piece I wrote back in 1969.1969! Good Grief! I didn't think ANYONE had stuff I'd done that long ago.
Here, take a look:
Happiness is...
As I sit upon the beach alone, I can look at the ocean, listen to the waves caress the rocks; but I cannot truly see. And that that I can see is only an apparition of someone loved...and lost.They tell me now to think of happiness.
Happiness was that agile bird that gracefully flitted into our lives, but -- once gone -- took so much of our lives with it. Happiness is life itself condensed into one experience, a single beautiful experience, that seems to make all that sorrow and loss of the rest of the world seem minute.
Happiness is that marble that broke the pack and won me admiration, the smile that kindled a flame inside me that seemed to warm the world. I cannot remember ever being happy when it did not take all of me to be so. And thus when it's gone -- the bird, the marble, the smile, the warmth -- I can miss it so. Miss it as a loved one...away.
They tell me now to think of happiness
"...is flying a kite."
"...is riding a pony on Sunday afternoon."
"...is a million dollars."
I could not think of a formula for bringing happiness; it simply came to me. It came without fanfare, little ribbons... It did not wear a shining suit of armor, but came as it was born. (I think this made me love it more.) And when they told me it was more than the black boy on the street dancing because it was in his soul and in his bones; and more than the baby giggling and burping at being full, or more than the old man in the park picking a daisy...I could not believe them.
They tell me now to think of happiness.
Rod Amis
October 1969
Reading this, after all these years, I certainly recognized rhetorical touches which have remained consistent over the years. But I also thought, ruefully: Cripes! What a soulful little boy! Lest I puke!
Dweebs like him have no place in a serious and hard-bitten profession like writing....
THINGS THAT BOTHER ME THIS WEEK
1. Bringing our new Macromedia Flash 4 feature to you by Labor Day. (Eeek! That's next week, isn't it?)2. Cash Flow.
3. Complaints from old friends that I'm becoming too much the "virtual" person.
4. Catching up on my reading.
Thanks for coming back this week.
"Work like you don't need the money,
"Love like you've never been hurt,
"Dance like no one is watching..."
Rod
ROD AMIS has published this magazine since 1990. It first appeared as a hardcopy 'Zine. In March, 1996, he launched it here on the Web. Rod was a Contributing Editor at Suite101.com, where he wrote the " 'Net Publishing" feature. His work has been featured in the San Francisco Bay Guardian Online, NRV8, and at WebLab's Reality Check site. Rod was also a contributing writer on technology for Faulkner Information Services.
Rod was a columnist for the Andover News Network, where he wrote over two hundred articles on web design and development issues. He is also principal writer and Editor for IT Manager's Journal, where he reviews technology issues weekly. He became the Managing Editor for Electronic Mail/Newsletter Publications at Andover.net at the end of February, 2000.
He lives in Baltimore, MD, at the moment (though it seems to most people he *actually* lives on the Web,) edits the writing of people from four continents for The World's Magazine, and wonders who The Last Woman will be in his "spare time."
Our Editor does listen!