Op-Ed
In the mayoral race, the traditional developer-vs.-preservationist stand-off is given an added cultural je ne sais quoi by fresh developments.
A letter from a supporter on the website of challenger David Bowers, who is gay, referred to incumbent Roger "Bo" Quiroga, who is Hispanic, as the "Macho Nacho." Quiroga, no stranger to the art of insult himself, has referred to the The Galveston Daily News as "the worst disaster to hit Galveston since the 1900 storm."
The latest furor is over whether to continue Beach Party Weekend, a phenomenon that attracts young people, some of whom get all knee-walkin', commode-huggin' drunk and misbehave accordingly.
The Daily News ran a picture of one celebrator holding a puppy by the ear, which an ally of the mayor's says proves the paper has a bias against the mayor. Actually, the photo is sort of interesting on its own merit, in a way.
How many times does he need to be warned? How much clearer could this possibly be? Texas prison guards are underpaid and overworked; the prisons are understaffed, and more guards walk off the job every week, leaving the prisons more dangerous for everyone in them, guards and convicts alike.
Tuesday's riot at Lamesa, with one prisoner dead and 31 injured, is the sixth time already this year that we have had violent episodes in the prisons. Twice this year guards have been taken hostage. In December, a guard was stabbed to death, and there was a riot at the Beeville unit.
Today, just six corporations have a forceful grip on America's mass media. We should consider how to break the hammerlock that huge firms currently maintain around the windpipe of the First Amendment. And we'd better hurry.
The trend lines of media ownership are steep and ominous in the United States. When The Media Monopoly first appeared on bookshelves in 1983, author Ben Bagdikian explains, "50 corporations dominated most of every mass medium." With each new edition, that number kept dropping -- to 29 media firms in 1987, 23 in 1990, 14 in 1992, and 10 in 1997.
Last Saturday, Chris Matthews was excitedly telling his MSNBC audience that the famous AP photo of the Elian snatch perhaps proved "the black-helicopter crowd" might be right when they said America was turning into a police state. Welcome to America, Chris.
The frenzy has now surpassed even the Dead Diana and JFK Jr. Missing cases, according to the Center for Media and Public Affairs.
The frequent misstatements of fact, both by TV newspeople and the people whom they interviewed, constitutes compelling evidence for the case that TV news must find a way to correct factual errors.
Many of these errors occurred during "analysis," "commentary" or "discussion," but they are still errors -- and misinformation poisons the well of public debate.
Perhaps the most astonishing was the consistent reporting of rumors -- clearly identified as such: "There is a rumor that ..." -- with no apparent effort to follow up as to the truth of the rumor.
Easter, it seems to me, is a good time to consider the gospel, and Silicon Valley seems like a good place to start.
Think "Silicon Valley," and what do you get? Multi-zillionaires, mansions, fancy cars and the heartbreak of Suddenly Acquired Wealth Syndrome -- that's the tragic dilemma afflicting those who become billionaires before they're 30 and are left trying to figure out what to do with the rest of their lives.
Would it surprise you to learn that seven out of every 10 jobs being created in Silicon Valley pay less than $10,000 a year? How much have you heard about that 70 percent of the residents?
The news media supposedly hold up a mirror of our society, but it seems more and more like a funhouse mirror. Headlines and great stretches of air time are devoted to the gyrations of the stock market, yet 50 percent of us own no stocks.
"(Be) not greedy of filthy lucre."
"Thy money perish with thee."
"Modern-day demonstrators say you just can't trust folks like us, the so-called corporate media," a CNN anchor explained, introducing a report that aired repeatedly over a two-day period. Correspondent Brooks Jackson took it from there. "They call themselves the independent media," he said, and that means working without ties to the large corporations of the media world.
"Global corporate media? Gee, that would be us," Jackson deadpanned, "CNN, owned by Time Warner, soon to be merged with America Online. They don't like us very much. They want to tell their story their way."
It was a classic example of Mean Politics, nativist hysteria fanned by wildly exaggerated tales of illegal immigrants coming here to live on Easy Street on our generous American welfare payments, etc. Ever since then, civil libertarians who tried desperately to stop the bill at the time have had the sour satisfaction of saying, "We told you so -- we told you so."
The standard media lexicon is filled with buzzwords that snap together as neatly as Leggo plastic blocks. Terms like "economic reform," "free markets" and "eliminating trade barriers" appear with such frequency and assurance that they seem to be noting the only rational economic path for less-developed countries. In reporting on the World Bank and the IMF, as well as the kindred World Trade Organization, familiar media jargon has long depicted the wisdom of their "reform" edicts as a no-brainer.
I blame it all on John McCain, who has this disarming habit of admitting it when he's wrong. I didn't know him from a hole in the ground, but he called me a couple of years ago just to say, "You were right, and I was wrong." That was on the 1996 telecom deregulation act, about which I was right and he was wrong. But I'd never had a politician do that before, so it startled me considerably.
This sort of behavior led to McCain's reputation for being "authentic" -- particularly as compared to the gross stonewalling that has afflicted pols from Watergate through Monica. And that in turn led to the dread menace of "authenticity."
"Authenticity" is the chief political buzzword of the year. Who has it (Jesse Ventura) and who doesn't (George W. Bush and Al Gore) is a source of endless debate.