Snip, Burn, Solder Blog

So, I continue to write a column for the Ann Arbor Chronicle, this month focusing on Miss America 2014, the Miss America Pageant Organization, and local media (the 2014 winner, Nina Davuluri [she’s the one on the right], is a U-M alum and was in Ann Arbor on Nov. 1 for a business conference, where I interviewed her).
The column begins by asking why I was the *only* member of the media who showed up to report on this–U-M, who hosted the event, had sent several different branches of its own internal and alumni media to cover the event, but no local paper or blog was there, nor were the Detroit Metro area papers. The column ends with me pointing out that the job of the media is to show up places and tell us what they see so that we can draw reasonable conclusions about the state of the world. In the middle, we have about 16 pages of Miss America history and analyzing Ms. Davuluri’s business and marketing tactics, as well as American “diversity.”
Anyway, here’s a nice two-up of reactions to the column:

The upper tweet is, obviously, Miss America. The lower tweet is from someone who writes for the local paper I called out for not showing up.
Man, I don’t know where to start with this. First off, what’s with using the passive voice, Ace? The column wasn’t twisted by some unknown force; I twisted it. I wrote the damn thing. See, that’s the second line of the job description at the Ann Arbor Chronicle. The first line is Show the fuck up and the second is tell us what you saw.
Beyond that, this article didn’t *twist.* It isn’t like I started out *OMFG IM SITTIN WITH A BATHING BEAUTY!!1!* and then in the final graff pulled this wicked 180 and stabbed you in the back. I started out saying “Hey local media: Get off your fucking duffs and come see what’s happening!” and then ended up saying “Hey local media: You are violating your contract with the readers by not showing up to report what’s happening!”
I the last week I’ve thought about this a lot, because it’s been a good week to reflect on how far new media has drifted from The Job (i.e., “showing up and saying what you see”). 50 years ago a barrier-breaking US president was murdered in Dallas. The reporters who showed up to watch his parade, they could not have expected a story: There was no speech scheduled for the damn parade route; it was just a dude cruising by in a convertible. But they showed up–because that’s The Job–and something so terrible happened, something that fundamentally shook this country like nothing would until a clear-skied September morning in 2001.
No one knew that would happen–even Oswald must have had his doubts that he’d pull it off–because none of us know what is going to happen. That’s *why* there’s a job that consists of showing up and saying what you saw, because who knows what will happen where. Like a Boy Scout (incidentally, JFK was the first Scout elected PotUS), we must Be Prepared.
Likewise, no reporter could expect there to really be a *story* at Oswald’s funeral: Assumed murder goes in box, box goes in ground. But they showed up, ’cause that’s The Job–and several of them wound up being pall-bearers, because the funeral was so sparsely attended, and the attendees were almost all women and children.
That’s a remarkable, weird, gonzo story. And it’s a human story. And it is a story that allows us to reflect on what it means to be American and human, and to live in the age in which we live.
That’s the result of doing The Job, and it is why The Job is a sacred Job, just like preaching and teaching and standing next to the bed for someone’s beginning or end.
And I was the only one who showed up to do The Job–but not because our town and our county and our region lack for people paid to do something very much like The Job. It’s just that the media has abandoned The Job, because they think they already know all the stories there are to tell, so why bother showing up? Why bother seeing what you see if you already know what you are going to write about it?
Incidentally, it’s worth reading the comments to my column, too, because a Miss America volunteer wrote in with a counter-narrative. See, even though I did The Job, I still fell down–because I’m human, and because I’m living in the same 21st Century as all the other media people, the ones I excoriate for abandoning the Faith, and because I struggle under the same constraints of time and money and energy as every other ink-stained wretch since the dawn of the damned printing press. Just like the rest of the media, I retold a story about Lenora Slaughter–an early Miss America reformer–and racism in the pageant, a story that I’d gotten from *other* media folk. I parroted this line–because it was just *too* good not to repeat–without chasing down primary sources for verification and without digging deep enough into what I had to realize the limitations of what it really said. And so I missed one more really interesting facet to this story, and failed to give you all one more bright shard of what it means to be American then and American now.
But still, I did The Job, and despite the title of my column, I didn’t do it for the money; I did it because it’s what I owe you for agreeing to take The Job at all. You do The Job because, in the absence of The Job, this shit is just words, words, words, full of sound and fury, but signifying fuckall.
Amen.

The Magazine–a really excellent digital periodical–is doing a Kickstarter to fund an annual print edition. You should *really* consider kicking in $30, like, immediately to get a copy. Barring that, $15 is a great deal–gets you a one-year subscription at about 40 percent off–and even a buck or five helps.
That annual print edition–which is really the brass ring on this one–is gonna be a big, fat hardcover with 130 of the most-notable articles, color glossy pictures, the whole shebang. Here’s a layout preview–which happens to feature the first article I wrote for them, about the world’s greatest aftermarket “lens” for doing old-school pinhole photography with catching-edge consumer-grade digital cameras. Backers who come in at $30 or more (as of this writing) will get the hardcover, plus DRM-free digital editions of the book. (You can back at a lower level and still get some pretty sweet swag, though. For example, if you come in at $15 you get a one-year subscription, which normally retails for ~$20–and costs, like, $24 if you buy it monthly, like I do, because I’m a damn rube).

If you’re one of this “I Give a Damn About the Future of Long-Form Journalism and Think Pieces,” then you should be backing this project; The Magazine is basically the only forward looking periodical I’ve come across. They pay well, and the editors are meticulously ethical, extremely scrupulous, and great to work with–every story becomes the best possible version of itself.
Also, *DISCLOSURE* if this project funds, I’ll get a reprint payment of a couple hundred dollars. They don’t *have* to do this–not with the contract I signed; they’ve already paid me for the work. They are *choosing* to do this because it’s the right thing to do. Like I said, if there’s a future in this non-fiction thing, The Magazine is that future.

My story “The New Guys Always Work Overtime” (which debuted in the Feb 2013 ASIMOV’S) is included in the latest StarShipSofa podcast: StarShipSofa No 312 David Erik Nelson | StarShipSofa
A second story in this series–a novelette titled “There Was No Sound of Thunder”–will run in ASIMOV’S next summer.
Also, I’m speaking about booze at Ignite Ann Arbor on Nov. 17. They’ve chosen the unconventional tactic of making the most erratic speaker go last, likely in an effort to clear the room prior to going into overtime and incurring additional rental fees. You should come check it out, because when I really totally flop, it is usually pretty exquisite.

I continue to write a monthly column for the Ann Arbor Chronicle. In this latest installment we meditate upon the instantly controversial RoboRoach from Backyard Brains:
The Ann Arbor Chronicle | In it for the Money: Cockroach Thanksgiving

As I mentioned before, part of my relative silence here is due to me working on a new DIY book, which is all musical instruments and noise toys (primarily electronic and wicked *awesome!*) and slated for completion sometime prior to the heat-death of our universe. For those interested in how the sausage gets made, here’s a snapshot of today’s work:
I’m revising Project 7, which is 26 pages long. The only page that has *zero* revisions is Page 8:

(Just in case you think that’s a function of the paucity of text on Page 8, I’ll have you know that I have a page with just *nine* words on it, and *it* has red ink.)
Pretty much every other page looks more like good ole Page 23:

*Everything* I write goes like this. I write a page, only to scrawl basically an entirely new page overtop that typed page, then merge the two and cut 1/6th of it. That’s a process. It’s like I’m making Oreos from scratch only so I can crunch them up to be Oreo crust for a Jell-o Pudding Pie.
Anyway, if you’re ever feeling totally overwhelmed at what a hash your project seems to be mid-build, just look at Page 23 and say: “Christ; at least I’m better at this than Dave is at writing!”

Teller is an excellent straight-man, and so is all too often undersold for his grace as a performer and genius as a magician–and, really, his qualities as an artist who basically never gets called an artist.
But none of that matters. What matters is that I see this, and it just breaks my heart, it’s so damn pretty. (The trick is the second one in the video, at the 3:30 mark–or click the link, which will take you to the video all queued up and ready to go.)

Penn & Teller on The Royal Variety Performance (UK 2011) – YouTube

I’m not a huge fan of Penn & Teller’s program BULLSHIT!–Penn Jillette’s rhetorical style is often senselessly inflammatory, and his gloss of Social Security in this particular episode is simplified to the point of complete distortion–but theatrical yelling aside, this is both a heartbreaking and informative snapshot of “multi-level marketing.” It’s shocking how many hours well-meaning people fruitlessly sink into these hopeless mutli-level sales schemes; the folk taking advantage of their earnestness and dedication is absolutely contemptible.
▶ Penn & Teller: Bullshit! – Season 8 Episode 5 – Easy Money – YouTube

. . . which is why the posts here are getting pretty dusty. But even when I’m working on the long stuff that keeps me from posting here, I can still be found kibitzing on various even-shorter-format social media thingies, like these:

Twitter

Google+

Goodreads

Pinboard
Connect! Open yourself to my near constant pestering! Enjoy!