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Lately I’ve been focused on unpacking, meeting the birds and trees in the nabe, writing my book, and doing my other job. I’ve been disinclined to take on much beyond that, but yesterday I sent my first Tiny Letter since January, and it felt good.

After a couple years of erratic dispatches, I think I’m going to aim for once a week now. SI’m always glad when a description I give at the beginning of something fits what I end up doing with it, and this one does: Ideas & Intimacies.

The letters aren’t archived online–I like the veneer of privacy–but unless I’m working on a new one, I usually send the latest to new subscribers.

This is one of those books that immediately after you start reading you know you are in the hands of a wonderful writer. Atticus Lish has delivered a delicately savage critique on post-9/11 America and the so-called American Dream in a beautiful love story of an illegal immigrant and an American soldier recently returned from […]

By Barbara Zelizer

A New York Post photographer snaps a picture of a man as he is pushed to his death in front of a New York City subway. An anonymous blogger photographs a dying American ambassador as he is carried to hospital after an attack in Libya. Multiple images following a shooting at the Empire State Building show its victims across both social media and news outlets. A little over three months, three events, three pictures, three circles of outrage.

The most recent event involved a freelancer working for the New York Post who captured an image of a frantic Queens native as he tried futilely to escape an approaching train. Depicting the man clinging to the subway platform as the train sped toward him, the picture appeared on the Post’s front cover. Within hours, observers began deriding both the photographer and the newspaper: the photographer, they said, should have helped the man and avoided taking a picture, while earlier photos by him were critiqued for being soft and of insufficient news value; the newspaper, they continued, should not have displayed the picture, certainly not on its front cover, and its low status as a tabloid was trotted out as an object of collective sneering.

We have heard debates like this before — when pictures surfaced surrounding the deaths of leaders in the Middle East, the slaying of Vietnamese soldiers and civilians, the shattering of those imperiled by numerous natural disasters, wars and acts of terror. Such pictures capture the agony of people facing their deaths, depicting the final moment of life in a way that draws viewers through a combination of empathy, voyeurism, and a recognition of sheer human anguish. But the debates that ensue over pictures of people about to die have less to do with the pictures, photographers or news publications that display them and more to do with the unresolved sentiments we have about what news pictures are for. Decisions about how best to accommodate pictures of impending death in the difficult events of the news inhabit a sliding rule of squeamishness, by which cries of appropriateness, decency and privacy are easily tossed about, but not always by the same people, for the same reasons or in any enduring or stable manner.

Pictures are powerful because they condense the complexity of difficult events into one small, memorable moment, a moment driven by high drama, public engagement, the imagination, the emotions and a sense of the contingent. No surprise, then, that what we feel about them is not ours alone. Responses to images in the news are complicated by a slew of moral, political and technological imperatives. And in order to show, see and engage with explicit pictures of death, impending or otherwise, all three parameters have to work in tandem: we need some degree of moral insistence to justify showing the pictures; we need political imperatives that mandate the importance of their being seen; and we need available technological opportunities that can easily facilitate their display. Though we presently have technology aplenty, our political and moral mandates change with circumstance. Consider, for instance, why it was okay to show and see Saddam Hussein about to die but not Daniel Pearl, to depict victims dying in the Asian tsunami but not those who jumped from the towers of 9/11. Suffice it to say that had the same picture of the New York City subway been taken in the 1940s, it would have generated professional acclaim, won awards, and become iconic.

At a time in which we readily see explicit images of death and violence all the time on television series, in fictional films and on the internet, we are troubled by the same graphic images in the news. We wouldn’t expect our news stories to keep from us the grisly details of difficult events out there in the world. We should expect no less from our news pictures.

Barbie Zelizer is the Raymond Williams Chair of Communication and the Director of the Scholars Program in Culture and Communication at the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Pennsylvania. She is the author of About to Die: How News Images Move the Public.  

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The post Why we are outraged: the New York Post photo controvery appeared first on OUPblog.

By Barbie Zelizer

A New York Post photographer snaps a picture of a man as he is pushed to his death in front of a New York City subway. An anonymous blogger photographs a dying American ambassador as he is carried to hospital after an attack in Libya. Multiple images following a shooting at the Empire State Building show its victims across both social media and news outlets. A little over three months, three events, three pictures, three circles of outrage.

The most recent event involved a freelancer working for the New York Post who captured an image of a frantic Queens native as he tried futilely to escape an approaching train. Depicting the man clinging to the subway platform as the train sped toward him, the picture appeared on the Post’s front cover. Within hours, observers began deriding both the photographer and the newspaper: the photographer, they said, should have helped the man and avoided taking a picture, while earlier photos by him were critiqued for being soft and of insufficient news value; the newspaper, they continued, should not have displayed the picture, certainly not on its front cover, and its low status as a tabloid was trotted out as an object of collective sneering.

We have heard debates like this before — when pictures surfaced surrounding the deaths of leaders in the Middle East, the slaying of Vietnamese soldiers and civilians, the shattering of those imperiled by numerous natural disasters, wars and acts of terror. Such pictures capture the agony of people facing their deaths, depicting the final moment of life in a way that draws viewers through a combination of empathy, voyeurism, and a recognition of sheer human anguish. But the debates that ensue over pictures of people about to die have less to do with the pictures, photographers or news publications that display them and more to do with the unresolved sentiments we have about what news pictures are for. Decisions about how best to accommodate pictures of impending death in the difficult events of the news inhabit a sliding rule of squeamishness, by which cries of appropriateness, decency and privacy are easily tossed about, but not always by the same people, for the same reasons or in any enduring or stable manner.

Pictures are powerful because they condense the complexity of difficult events into one small, memorable moment, a moment driven by high drama, public engagement, the imagination, the emotions and a sense of the contingent. No surprise, then, that what we feel about them is not ours alone. Responses to images in the news are complicated by a slew of moral, political and technological imperatives. And in order to show, see and engage with explicit pictures of death, impending or otherwise, all three parameters have to work in tandem: we need some degree of moral insistence to justify showing the pictures; we need political imperatives that mandate the importance of their being seen; and we need available technological opportunities that can easily facilitate their display. Though we presently have technology aplenty, our political and moral mandates change with circumstance. Consider, for instance, why it was okay to show and see Saddam Hussein about to die but not Daniel Pearl, to depict victims dying in the Asian tsunami but not those who jumped from the towers of 9/11. Suffice it to say that had the same picture of the New York City subway been taken in the 1940s, it would have generated professional acclaim, won awards, and become iconic.

At a time in which we readily see explicit images of death and violence all the time on television series, in fictional films and on the internet, we are troubled by the same graphic images in the news. We wouldn’t expect our news stories to keep from us the grisly details of difficult events out there in the world. We should expect no less from our news pictures.

Barbie Zelizer is the Raymond Williams Chair of Communication and the Director of the Scholars Program in Culture and Communication at the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Pennsylvania. She is the author of About to Die: How News Images Move the Public.  

Subscribe to the OUPblog via email or RSS.
Subscribe to only media articles on the OUPblog via email or RSS.

The post Why we are outraged: the New York Post photo controversy appeared first on OUPblog.

4 Stars Chase Danger, Super Spy: Pirates of Pineapple Island Chase & Lisa Olivera Adam Goodman 32 Pages:    Ages: 4 to 7 ................... From Website:  7-year-old super-spies Chase Danger and Princess Ali Bali must think fast when they discover pirates have stolen Zalezgon’s magical pineapples.  But that’s not all!  Ali’s little brother Aiden has been [...]

5 Stars

Mark Simon Smith

Sir Nathan and the Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook: A Somewhat Silly Story

Queen Gobbledeegook has gone missing and it is up to Sir Nathan, the Hero of Mariskatania, to find her. Along the way he meets all sorts of odd folks, including pixies and wizards and a hulking creature named Mazy that likes to knit. The land of Mariskatania is a colorful one, filled with bright Jubb Jubb Trees and fuzzy, blue Hobnobber Squirrels who spend all their time looking for a snack guaranteed to poison them.

The sub-heading, A Somewhat Silly Story, is by no means false advertising  Mark Simon Smith has crafted a clever tale that produces laughter, groans, and everything in between.  Silly it is. The creatures he has invented include Tinker Toads, MechaMonkeys, Licorice Lambs, and Hobnobber Squirrels, to name a few. Each has interesting and sometimes hilarious traits.

Silly does not stop with the weird, strange, and often nice creatures he comes into contact with while on his quest to find the missing queen. Sir Nathan takes off riding his trusty steed Tupolev, a talking horse.

“You want me to climb a tree?” asked Tupolev in a shocked voice.

“Why would you think I am any good at . . . oh, right.

I forgot I’m a squirrel now. Sorry.”

I enjoy silly movies with slapstick in them . I equally enjoy clever, creative, and silly books like Sir Nathan and the Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook: A Somewhat Silly Story.  I think this is a good book for reluctant readers.  The story is easy to follow, fun to read, and will brighten the spirits of anyone who reads it.

There are illustrations scattered throughout the book. These black and white line drawings are a great compliment to the story. If you have never seen a MechaMonkey, Pixie Sisters, or a giant Warlock’s Assistant, Derek Gebler’s art will help you imagine the unimaginable. His illustrations are clean, clear representations of the author’s unique brain.

Unfortunately, there are not enough of these wonderful illustrations in the book. I would have liked to see one at the beginning of each chapter, if only to help me visualize what is going on his the author’s brain when creating his characters.

Sir Nathan is one of those books that sparks the imagination. Many books are clever, others are creative, and some are fun. Sir Nathan and the Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook is all three.

For those that like to read chapter books, one chapter at a time, as the nightly bedtime story, this book will have your kids mesmerized, wanting to know more. Their dreams will be pleasant, not nightmarish, since even the evil creatures have a good side. Girls will like this book as equally as boys will.   When your child has devoured the book, and willing to part with it, sit down and read one of the better new children’s authors debuting in 2012.

Book 2: Sir Nathan and the Troublesome Task: Another Somewhat Silly Story is now available in paperback!

Sir Nathan and the Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook: A Somewhat Silly Story

Author/Illustrator: Mark Simon Smith  website   FB  blog
Illustrator: Derek K. Gebler   website
Publisher Platform: CreateSpace
Release Date: March 9, 2012
ISBN: 978-1-4700-5906-4
Number of Pages:  223
Ages:  8 to 12
....................

In a cost-cutting measure, 62 branches of Queens libraries in New York City stopped adding new books in December 2010. According to The New York Daily News, Queens libraries annually purchase 8,500 new books.

This means Queens patrons do not have access to the latest titles or new copies of old favorites. With mayor Michael Bloomberg‘s  looming “Agency Gap Closing Programs” proposal, things look worse than ever for New York City library services.

Here’s more from the article: “Overall, city libraries are facing nearly $100 million in budget cuts, which they say would lead to an estimated 1,500 layoffs…Without restored funding, city libraries would be forced to shorten hours and close dozens of branches, library officials testified.” (via Ron Hogan)

New Career Opportunities Daily: The best jobs in media.

I'm bringing back the "100 blah, blah fill in the blank" thing I did for "Fathers and Sons" as we slowly approach the release of "Liars and Thieves."