The future's so bright, I'm talking to myself
One of the wiser voices in my head recently reiterated something he's been saying for a while now: "You know, the mid-sized and community-based papers are the ones that will always thrive so long as they make a modest online investment and train a couple people how to go out and do video and web-type stuff. But the big boys? Oh boy, big trouble."
This is hardly rocket science.
If it was, I'd call that voice "Ronnie the Rocket Scientist." He'd be brilliant, but not too condescending. A benevolent brainiac, one might say. And handsome, too. Straight butter to the ladies. Translation: He'd be nothing like Danny's friend Tony. Nothing at all.
Anyway, that "conversation" came to mind today as I was leafing through one of the local weeklies, The Roxborough Review, while watching GW High take hoity-toity LaSalle down to win the Philly H.S. Championship. (Bravo, public schools.) Alas, Ronnie's theory kind of holds true because, as I cruise though their website to find three bits of interest I'd hoped to share with you, I can't find them.
And that sucks, because:
-- one was a photo of women toiling in what seemed to be a Honduran sweatshop under the headline, "Fun and frivolity in the Honduran sun,"
-- another was our budget-slashing, star-loving Mayor Mike Nutter done all up like Dog the Bounty Hunter laying down the "Tax cheats in this city will not be tolerated" by this guy,
-- and the other was a police brief that I'll transcribe: "A lighted pumpkin was taken from the 200 block of Green La on Oct. 24."
Solid stuff, all. And since people will always be interested in what neighbor actually called the cops after their lighted pumpkin was stolen, it's papes (pronounced like pope, except an A where the O would be) like these that shall thrive eternally.
I'd like to think the Inquirer has a similar future, but it's hard to imagine the model of the big-city daily that's poisted to tear shit up bid'ness wise going forward. This is sad, because today, they told me how some 20 percent of the weed shops in Amsterdam (including some that I probably visited back in the mid-90s, as pictured below; I'm far right, on a canal boat tour designed to pass some time between coffee-shop stops).
They also convinced me to invest in Campbell's Soup. Big time.
Also, be sure to check tomorrow's New York Times for the piece ripping Chinese Democracy -- a cardinal sin -- while breaking down Axl's whole path between using illusions in '91 and today, where he's a quote-unquote Best Buy whore. (Via Facebook, fellow Haddon Twp. product Rob Smentek also keenly pointed out this exceptional Axl-timeline yesterday.)
And, in the Times Magazine's "screens issue," a deep look is taken at the future of all media -- from big physical papers and movie screens to itty-bitty Blackberries like mine, which stand poised to destroy our children's minds. And our adult's minds. Just like Ronnie said they would.
The spottest-on quote from their roundtable on online advertisers:
Trevor Edwards, Nike’s main marketing guy, had a great quote. He said, “Nike’s not in the business of keeping media companies alive, we’re in the business of connecting with consumers.” That sums up digital pretty nicely.
Seems rather logical. So does the fact that "Napoleon Dynamite" has become Focus-of-Mystifyment No. 1 when it comes to people vying for Netflix's $1 million bounty to improve its guess-what-other-movies-you'll-like feature. Because Napoleon Dynamite was horrendous, yet some people pretend otherwise. Shame on them all.