Business Class

My salad days in Hong Kong

Found broccoli trees

 Like mushrooms Chopped

This way and that way

In squares, rounds, boxes,

NEC, Kent and Camel

Splashed in a bowl

Between Center and Kowloon

Poured down the peak

A salad dressing of garlic

And sweat.
On the water music in Sydney

Past the Opera House

With extended wings we fly.

The boom sends back

Reggae beats to Koala bear screams

And we fly.

The red hot unfiltered sun

Soaks through the 15 salve

Infiltrating our backs

While we fly.
In Honolulu mama

We have done the hookey lau

The hookey lau

(You were laughing)

Eating poi

And drinking large vats of rum juice

(You were pointing)

Under orange skies

While earnest young faces

Mouth ????s

On a local and a global basis.

(You were watching)

I saw you there

Doing the hooky lau The hooky lau

2.
In the Frankfort follies

Halls and halls and halls

Of wheels

Pointed up and out

Dreamed up by little men

In white coats and jackets.

Each year the sheet metal

Rusts a little sooner

Until

One day a dot

Of brown falls upon

A sheet of blue

And then we know

We’ve driven too far. 

On my Magyar holiday

Upon the rim of the highest hill

In Buda

The sun drips down behind a higher hill

As we run between small singing girls

Climbing big guns ringing the war museum.

Lovers kiss

Boys play chess

And you and I

Find the night sky in Budapest.
On a direct shot from Messe

We bounced and skidded into Toronto

Making a right turn at Windsor

Where border guards carried no machine guns

And merely waved us through.

All of our lies went untold

How two lovers rounded the earth

And moved back to Detroit one night.

Now what?

Dear Dr Spong
(After six lectures by Bishop John Spong,
 noted author and Bishop of the Episcopal Church)
Now what?
73 years it took me 
Through Roman Catholicism
Greek Orthodox, Methodist, Buddhism
4 Years high Anglican 7 times a week
Incense even, serving at the altar,
Then Zen meditation, Republican moderation,
Atheist agnostic and finally swallowing my pride
Presbyterian – Da rolling over in his grave. 
First Church I ever joined voluntarily. 

And now you. 
Great stuff your daily messages. 
Us aged love it. We crowd around
Sitting in the rain
While you preach deconstruction,
Intelligence and, with the fervor of evangelism,
Common sense. 
Great stuff in deed.
But what are we to do now?

No pearly gates. No wise Peter at the door.
No forgiveness of sins. 
No great white father to comfort us
Now at the hour of our death. 
Where is the Peace?
Where is the choir of angels?
Where is my opiate of the people?
What are we to do now
That we no longer can cling
To our guns and Bibles?

Dr Spong you had to go
And wrench me back to my
Stubborn humanism and the religion
Of the Golden Rule. 
Now at the hour of my death
I have only my own score sheet of
Good and Evil.
Better balance the books,
Wouldn’t you say?

Sean Kevin Fitzpatrick

No ad that is bought ever runs. No ad that is Killed ever dies.”

The old creative director soothes the young creator:

Rejection is cruel. Rejection hurts. Rejection sucks.

But, there is good news. Rejection is an illusion – if you choose to think that way. Any creative director worth his salt will tell you that bought ads face many obstacles and changes before they ever run. From clients with second thoughts to screw-ups or failures in production technology, very rarely does your ad or commercial end up the way you wanted it. There is always something that makes you frown or say, “If only…”

But… Any creative director wily enough to stick around knows that while clients may kill ads, clients also die, or move or switch jobs or just goes away. The ad lives on and waits for its “day”. Maybe with another client.

So, my children do not commit seppuku when the client puts a dagger in the back of your ad. Soon – one day – that client will go away. Or you will go away and your ad will live again. Also, do not get overly excited when your ad is bought. It’s a long way to Tipperary. Advice: three glasses of red wine each night and a loving spouse and don’t play your reel until it’s in the can.

Now, I remember one particular rejection in Los Angeles about 20 years ago on the Toyota account. The client killed a commercial about Corolla that showed zillion clowns coming out of the Corolla. We thought it was clear that this positioned the corolla as the new VW Beetle – the favorite import in the USA at that time. The client stabbed it dead. Why? The Japanese said, “Too many clowns. Corolla does not have that many seat belts.”

“What!” the creatives screamed to each other. “What?” Everybody knows that in the circus a VW beetle drives up and a million clowns jump out. Everybody knows that don’t they? Well, we know it. Obviously, this was part of our culture. But it was not a part of the Japanese culture. So the answer is “no”. Not everybody knows “that” whatever that is. The Japanese client didn’t and he killed the commercial. No amount of explanations after the fact was going to change that.

Our solution: we started creating social – economic – cultural statements about the commercials we wanted to present. We translated these to Japanese and circumspectly shared them with the Japanese clients about a week before the presentation. We rarely ever lost a commercial after that. Because the client did know what we were talking about.

Five years later, I started to work with the Chevrolet client in Detroit. This client turned down commercials with bizarre explanations. I found out that the Americans at Chevrolet didn’t know much more about American culture than did the Japanese at Toyota.

These clients worked hard every day – from 7 a.m. To 6 p.m. They never watched TV. They never had time to read a book. They never had time to go to a movie. They never went shopping (wife’s job). They never bought or serviced a car (company car). They never even went on vacation (they went on dealer trips where they were escorted). No wonder they didn’t recognize the movie plot or the popular song. They were working themselves to death and didn’t have time for life.

Our solution: a culture report just like the one we did for the Japanese. Only this time we did it on video – and it worked. In fact, it is one of the ways we sold the then avant-garde Heartbeat of America.

Some basic tactics I’ve learned over the years help avoid premature or peremptory rejection. First, creative people jealously guard their ideas thinking that if any part leaks out the whole idea will be ruined. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, grim faces and peremptory rejection often greet big surprises. The best way to sell an idea is to carefully massage the client with parts of it until the client believes it is his or her idea. Ask any politician; a bill that goes in for vote is a bill that will die. Games have to be played first.

Second, state the idea in one single declarative sentence. If you can’t do that, the client suspects you don’t have an idea.

Third, don’t show the client white space – or black. The back of the ad or storyboard is what most clients see while the creative person rambles on nervously about his pet project. Some clients hate this so much they reject ideas they might like and approve otherwise.

Fourth, once you’ve sold your idea, get out. Don’t leave time for rethinking. Never mind all the warm feelings in the room and the flush of success. Just get out and get to work producing it.

Fifth, and finally, when you present your client the finished product, use the simple tactics that helped you sell it. Pre-sell. After the pre-sell, give a simple declarative sentence describing the idea. Show the rough layout or storyboard quickly and simply. Play your spot three times at least. If it features music, play it five times minimum. Finally, when you finally have a sale, get out and get back to work or go get drunk. Familiarity breeds contempt.

If none of this works, get yourself a great account guy and tell him to sell it or don’t come back.

What happens to bought ads may be worse. Now that we have a sold ad, we have many parents: Clients who need to manage the process; directors who have their own opinions; actors who won’t read the lines; editors who pervert the story line; budgets that don’t cover the plan. But don’t worry, all of these geniuses will disappear when the final ad or spot fails.

One thing every young creative should keep in mind: rejection is an illusion. If you believe it, it’s true. If you believe in yourself and your work, it’s all-just a matter of time. Remember: it’s not your mother rejecting you. It’s not your girlfriend or boyfriend rejecting you. It’s not even the army rejecting you. It’s just a client – and he’s rejecting the work – for now.

And as we already know, “nothing that is ever bought runs; nothing that is ever killed dies”.

Business Class

Business Class

My salad days in Hong Kong
Found broccoli trees
Like mushrooms Chopped
This way and that way
In squares, rounds, boxes,
NEC, Kent and Camel
Splashed in a bowl
Between Center and Kowloon
Poured down the peak
A salad dressing of garlic
And sweat.

On the water music in Sydney
Past the Opera House
With extended wings we fly.
The boom sends back
Reggae beats to Koala bear screams
And we fly.
The red hot unfiltered sun
Soaks through the 15 salve
Infiltrating our backs
While we fly.

In Honolulu mama
We have done the hookey lau
The hookey lau
(You were laughing)
Eating poi
And drinking large vats of rum juice
(You were pointing)
Under orange skies
While earnest young faces
Mouths ????s
On a local and a global basis.
(You were watching)
I saw you there
Doing the hooky lau The hooky lau
2.

In the Frankfort follies
Halls and halls and halls
Of wheels
Pointed up and out
Dreamed up by little men
In white coats and jackets.
Each year the sheet metal
Rusts a little sooner
Until
One day a dot
Of brown falls upon
A sheet of blue
And then we know
We’ve driven too far.

On my Magyar holiday
Upon the rim of the highest hill
In Buda
The sun drips down behind a higher hill
As we run between small singing girls
Climbing big guns ringing the war museum.
Lovers kiss
Boys play chess
And you and I
Find the night sky in Budapest.

On a direct shot from Messe
We bounced and skidded into Toronto
Making a right turn at Windsor
Where border guards carried no machine guns
And merely waved us through.
All of our lies went untold
How two lovers rounded the earth
And moved back to Detroit one night.

How to be a writer and actually get paid

I am a writer by trade and by choice. That choice led me to become a newspaper reporter, an advertising copywriter, a motion picture maker and now a college professor. These may seem to be very different types of professions but they are really quite similar. In all of them we are not only writing but we are selling – a product, a service, an idea a way of life. We are also listening, seeing and reading because in order to connect with our communications target, we must understand both the rational and the emotional behavior of our target; and we must understand how our target will believe and behave when the message is received.

The best piece of advice I ever received in my writing endeavors was from my first city editor, a grizzled old Arkansan by the name of Lew Winkler, who cut his teeth on The Stars and Stripes during WWII. He would say to me, “Fitz, the fog is too thick”. For a while, I couldn’t understand his accent. A kind soul in the city room whispered to me, “He says the fog is too thick.”

I said, “The fog is too thick?” The editor smiled tiredly and said,” Yes, Fitz, it doesn’t pass the fog index”.

The fog index was how he judged if the copy would be understood. You take the number of words in a paragraph. Divide by the number of sentences. If the result is higher than seven, then the fog is too thick. The reader will not understand. You can have a thirteen-word sentence, but it must be followed by a one-word sentence. Otherwise, the average person will not understand you.

I have found the fog index is a valuable indicator. For more sophisticated audiences, I suppose you could move the number up to eight or nine. But don’t count on being understood by the handyman or a college professor.

Words have connotative and denotative values. That means words denote specific, concrete references. They connote baggage references, implications connected to society or culture. These are implications in the head of the writer and in the head of the reader separate and distinct from the denotative value of the word. For example, will “box cutter” ever have the same meaning after 9/11? And would it have the same meaning for someone ignorant of 9/11?

Now add the complexity of a sentence. We studied grammar in grade school and immediately forgot it. Yet, how a sentence is constructed and punctuated is crucial to the understanding of the meaning of the sentence. One misplaced comma can pervert the meaning of a sentence into something altogether different from what was intended.

Now add a spoken voice to the mix. The tone of voice can change the meaning or create ambiguity. A face, complete with body language, offers more opportunities for ambiguity. Now add a recognized face to the statement. More baggage. More ambiguity. More fog.

Now add a language change and the influence of a translator. Culture change. Maturity levels of the culture.

Von Clausewitz warned us about the “fog” of war. Richard Heurer, the guru of intelligence analysts, warned us about the “fog” of bias and personal observation when trying to sort information. Add all of these fog generators to the normal fog of communication, and the real miracle is that anything at all is communicated correctly or understood with precision.

The objective is a written, persuasive communication. The battlefield is a blank sheet of paper. The standard weapons are abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxy and z. The warrior is the copywriter. The secret weapons: imagination and discipline. Throughout the history of advertising, a well-turned phrase has separated the sheep from the goats. A daring, big idea has separated the sheep.

“Woman nearly itches to death.” That well-turned phrase was the beginning of a small space advertisement that captured the imagination of early twentieth century America. And how could it not? It was succinct and imaginative. It promised unimaginable rewards for the reader. It was a great one-shot advertisement. It was the product of imagination.

“Lemon” was the beginning of the first breakthrough advertisement for Volkswagen, the breakthrough automotive campaign that changed the advertising industry. The headline was the product of imagination. But the strength of the copy was that the cleverness evolved from a big selling idea and a daring that challenged prevailing notions of what the client would accept.

IN the decades of the 50’s and ‘60’s, the prevailing notion of what made a great automotive campaign evolved from David Ogilvy:”At 60 MPH, the loudest sound in a Rolls Royce is the ticking clock”.

Or it came from the magnificent, polished and retouched photo illustrations from Andy Nelson, the legendary JWT art director and pal of Lee Iacocca. Frequently the imagination accompanying Nelson’s work was limited to “All New. Lower, Longer and Wider than Ever Before.” Every now and then, some imagination crept in as when JWT creatives declared that the 1965 Ford rode quieter than a Rolls Royce. This unbelievable copy claim was quite true although the audience did not believe it. The audience, upon seeing the advertisement, was convinced that the 1965 Ford would ride quieter than a Chevrolet. This was the main point. Quiet equaled quality. And if the consumer believed that Fords had eliminated the rattle to become higher quality than Chevy’s, which was the main point. I mean, how many Rolls owners contemplated buying a Ford or Chevy. Creativity comes in many modes and in sometimes-devious ways.

Never the less, the standards for automotive advertising were loving, prestigious copy and or glossy glorious photography. In this climate, the agency that had the Volkswagen account kept the ugly little bug invisible. Not Bill Bernbach, who captured the account and the hearts and minds of millions of Americans by daring to do the unthinkable, He called the car a “lemon”.

Many advertising critics and creative directors celebrate Bill Bernbach and DDB for imagination; I celebrate them also for discipline and hardheaded salesmanship. The “Lemon” copy, that followed the headline, communicated a litany of product benefits that spun into a glorious multi-decade campaign. Each advertisement in the campaign, regardless of medium, featured a consumer benefit enhanced by disciplined imagination and a relentless commitment to the integrity of the campaign.

The big selling idea, the imaginative turn of phrase, the disciplined copy strategy and the integrity of the campaign produced a body of work perhaps never equaled in the fifty years since. It also created a challenger brand that cut through the big, fat happy brands of the domestic automobile industry of the day. Furthermore, the VW campaign modus operandi created a blue print for a modern advertising industry that hardly resembles what came before.

Larry Dobrow, an advertising man and editor and founder of AD Magazine, points out in “When Advertising Tried Harder” that DDB’s notion of the copywriter and art director working as a team revolutionized the creative department. It used to be, figuratively, that the copywriter wrote some copy and slipped it under the door of the art director. The next morning, the art director slipped the layout under the door of the creative supervisor. And so on.

When I started at JWT in 1964 on the Ford account that was the way it worked. The offices on the west side of the building contained copywriters. The wall on the north and east side of the building contained art directors, for the “light”. Those of us who aspired to be big shots, were crammed into foggy glass cubicles, willy-nilly throughout the center of the room. Downstairs, there was a huge art studio called the “bull pen” where artists and lettering men and makeup artists fabricated presentation pieces from the scribbles of writers and the pastels and water colors of art directors.

At DDB, the copywriter and art director worked as a team and pinned their creations on the wall. In the morning, Bernbach would walk through the halls and collect what he determined to be the winners and present them to the client.

Today, almost everyone works as a team. The dominance of television as a visual medium demands creative collaboration between copywriter and art director. The old notion of the producer disappearing with the script to Hollywood and returning with a finished product is unthinkable today, as it should be. When I started in the business, television producers were refugees from Hollywood who convinced agency management that only they could be entrusted with the script. Television was a relatively new and expensive medium and nobody wanted to let a writer or art director screw it up. In the new scheme, the copywriter, art director and producer collaborate to produce a finished creative product. The pendulum swung the other way. And some might say it has swung right off of its axis. The absurdity of runaway productions is wonderfully captured in Randall Rothenberg’s brilliant,”When the suckers howled at the Moon”.

Nevertheless, creative collaboration was a new thing in the 60’s and created success. Undoubtedly, that success is one cause. Another cause may well be the degree of difficulty of copywriting on a blank sheet of paper by yourself. A more likely cause is the failure of the education system, which is failing to produce students capable of, writing a paragraph of English. Whatever the cause, with the exception of a few gigantic exceptions, copywriting has become a lost art.

Young creative wannabes show up with books filled with speculative television copy and storyboards. Or, they may even bring in semi-finished television spots they have created on their own computers. I admire their presentation skills. But can they write? This is a question asked by creative directors in public and private and frequently answered negatively.

Ask most anyone who has to staff a department. The most difficult thing to find is good, strong writers. A creative person who can take hard product facts and turn them into persuasive consumer benefits in replicatible copywriting is worth his or her weight in gold. Make that diamonds.

This is why I have always provided a copy test for young creative wannabes. It is a modification of a test I once received from David Ogilvy, himself, and which if faithfully completed will reveal to the wannabe if he or she wants to be a writer. And it demonstrates to the potential employer whether or not the applicant has potential. Most who actually finish the test report that they find work in our business. Several, to my knowledge, today hold important positions with important creative firms. I would bet they too revere the VW campaign.

Here is how that VW copy continued:” Lemon. This Volkswagen missed the boat. The chrome strip on the glove compartment is blemished and must be replaced. Chances are you wouldn’t have noticed it. Inspector Kurt Kroner did. There are 3,389 men at our Wolfsburg factory with only one job: to inspect Volkswagens at each stage of production.”

The copy goes on to delineate minute imperfections that are eliminated from Volkswagens. The copy segues easily into consumer benefits. “This preoccupation with detail means the VW lasts longer and requires less maintenance, by and large, than other cars. It also means a used VW depreciates less than any other car. We pick the lemons, you get the plums.”

This is not artsyfartsy work. It is cold-blooded product sell, enhanced by an imaginative use of daring and detail.

Later a VW commercial depicted a foggy snows cape on an early morning. A VW drives through the murk into a garage. Out of the garage comes a truck with a snowplow. The copywriter explains, “Have you ever wondered how the man who drives the snow plow drives to the snow plow? This one drives a Volkswagen. So you can stop wondering.”

This commercial is frequently described as the greatest commercial ever produced. The campaign is frequently mentioned as the greatest campaign ever created and run. It has no clever theme line to burn it into the memory. It has no music, to speak of, to tap into our right lobe. It has no glamour and no glitz.

It does have imagination, daring and detail. It converts product facts into consumer benefits. Its body of work captures a brand and its core constituents. And I believe it would work today almost as well as it worked in the late 1950’s, 1960’s and 1970’s.

The VW campaign is copywriting at its best. Does that mean copywriters should not use music and theme lines and all the tools of modern communication. No, it does not. But it certainly calls for the study of copywriting as a commercial art form. Copywriting requires countless hours of practice and critique. Eventually, the copywriter will learn to self-edit. Before that happens, it is back to basics.

Basics is the alphabet and grammar mastered. Basics is creative ideas expressed simply and directly. Basics is grabbing the imagination with a well-turned phrase and delivering meaningful content easily absorbed. Basics start with expository writing and evolve into creative writing. Basics are the fundamentals that can guarantee success in a multitude of creative careers.

Writing ability and creativity are two different talents. The first can be taught and learned. The second is inherent but can be enhanced.

A report in the Journal of Creative Behavior, by Dr. Douglas West describes the creative process across borders from a number of countries around the world.

He describes creatives working in hotels or inns or wherever to escape office routine. He notes sleeping, walking and/or lying down are ways of gaining creative insights. Einstein formed his time and space theory while sick in bed and James Brindley, a creative engineer of all things, would take to his bed for days in order to solve a problem.

On the artistic side, there are numerous examples of the importance of work patterns and activities to creativity. Emile Zola pulled the shades in mid-day in order to simulate the night. Ralph Waldo Emerson left his family and rented a hotel room to gain solitary conditions to write. Hemmingway wrote in the mornings and spent the nights carousing. Debussy and Beethoven needed nature to work. Schubert had a regimented schedule from 9 a.m. To 2 a.m. Haydn rose at 6:30. To work while Berlioz and Beethoven worked all day and night if needed.

Sounds much like creative people at the agency, doesn’t it. Studying work patterns may seem trivial to those not in a creative industry, but to the individual creative they are often an important process in itself.

West notes that wide experience is a pre-requisite to creativity. He notes master chess players largely play from experience. They use knowledge to determine possible moves and how they should respond.

He describes creative problem solving as combining disparate thoughts. He introduces us to the concept of “bisociation”, where previously unrelated ideas are combines. To bisociate, creative thinkers need to draw upon wide experience.

And if you think about it, the greatest creative people you have met take unconnected things and then find connections between them.

Deadlines play a major role in creative activity. Rossini was known to leave his composing to the last minute. I know a couple of copywriters and art directors like that. Rossini’s advice was to “leave work until the evening before the opening night”. This method leaves little time for man in the street interviews.

West states that the ideal creative director would be a creative “pace-setter” and a creative coach, ideally cultivating the creativity of all those around him. And above all else, the creative director must feel the power of an idea and its connection to the goal. The good creative director is the copywriter’s best friend. The director is not just a copy judge. Rather the good creative director is helping the copywriter to expand good copy and a good idea into a great idea with great copy.
Aristotle, in Rhetoric, wrote “a speaker who is attempting to move people to thought or action must concern himself with their emotions. If he touches only their minds, he is unlikely to move them to action or change their minds, the motivations of which lie deep in the realm of the passions.”

Bill Bernbach pointed out many years ago a communicator must be aware of this or fail. “Facts are not enough.” He said. The copywriter must embrace the facts and convert them into pleasing benefits.

Copy is best when it eliminates anything that signal insincerity, naiveté, or phoniness, absurd claims, pointless humor, stilted dialogue, unlikely situations, bad talent, strange voice inflections, and most of all mediocrity. These cues summon consumer rejection faster than an Iraqi fighter on an Israeli radar screen does.
Another thing that summons consumer rejection is fog. Fog is too many words and too many sentences packed together. Fog is the ultimate destroyer of a great idea. The antidote to fog is to calculate the fog index. And live by its code.
I have always believed that the best movie about an advertising agency is Amadeus, the classic life of Mozart. In the movie, the young genius faces rejection of his opera by the client, the emperor. Mozart demands an explanation. The emperor is amused by this impertinence and seeks an answer. He comes us with one.
“Too many notes”, replies the emperor, enigmatically.
He meant to say, “The fog is too thick, Fitz.”

Holy Orders


Black pearl Mohammad’s beads

Hang from my back door.

Christian Cross and Star of David too.

Buddha would be there

Sikhs and idol worshippers and more.

Apollo, Zeus, Bibles, Korans, Talmud’s

Maybe even Bhagavad-Gita

But how many Katusha sacrifices,

How many holy murders

In the name Abraham, Allah?

Of Jews or Jesus or Moloch for that matter?

Which leads to a profound prayer for my soul

Pray that murder in the name of gods be no more.

Pray that all the righteous are righteous.

Pray that all soul tales come true.

Pray doubt be replaced with sacraments of wisdom.

Pray the artifacts on my door

Become one saving grace,
that 
peace on earth is not just the blessing

Before the collection plate.

While You Were Away At War

While you were away at war
I was driving my tricycle, eyes peeled for enemy planes
Above Naldo Street in Jacksonville, Florida
Waiting for da to come home
From Jacksonville Naval Air Station
Where he worked in the commissary.

While you were away at war
People loved and played and worked
At making more money, improving the old golf game
Cutting the grass while
Grousing about gasoline stamps and shortages of
Meat and booze.

While you were away at war
Life dripped on amidst the gold stars on window sills
The blackout curtains unfurled at dusk,
The pith helmeted air raid wardens
Who every now and then looked at the sky–
All to the big band tune of A String of Pearls.

While you were away at war
We slept in peace trying not to pee the bed,
And now that you sleep in peace
You should know that we do not study films
About our lives,
But we embrace yours.

Sean Kevin Fitzpatrick
June 6, 2010

At Dream Catchers

Walk On

“Walk On”
My fine white steed moves out to the center ring
Strong muscles bulge in ways I can feel
His mane is clean and tied into tidy knots for the circus crowd
He pulls my muscles in strange and unusual ways
That unexpectedly hurt and feel good
All at the same time.
They clap and call him Indy but I just smile and say
“Walk On”.
And I shall call him My Fine White Steed.

“Walk On”
My son will never hit the hanging curve, never field the bouncing punt
Never run to me and say, “I love you Papa”.
He will never have all A’s
Never be the class disrupter, never sling burgers at Mickey D’s.
But today my son passed by me saying,
“Walk On”.
And I called to my son with watery eyes.

“Walk On”
This boy has come a long way from dead silence and frothing resistance,
Fear trembling his lax frame. Living the life
Of wheel chairs and baby food, no boyhood memories
To take to an early grave.
But this is a good day for fun and games.
I can still hear the first words he ever spoke.
We all looked at each other not daring to believe
That this silent child had finally cried out,
“Walk On”.
Truly miracles happen on a horse’s back.

The Media Demon

Once upon a time, Columbia Journalism School offered me a Pulitzer grant to obtain a masters. I had finished second for the prize grant, but I had wanted to actually work as a reporter first. Thirty years later after a career that included journalism, motion pictures and advertising, I approached the J school about a project to track the triple convergence of advertising, entertainment and news. I was seconded by the executive editor of one of the tree leading news magazines who was interested in this phenomenon. Columbia had no interest.

That was thirteen years ago. Today’s Rolling Stone cover, much of the talking head madness on cable and the general demise of the news business in magazines and newspapers is the result of this convergence. AJ Liebling noted that the newspaper’s news had become the stale peanuts on the bar. The money is in the booze. The money is in the entertainment. And the entertainment has been poisoned with disguised advocacy. In many cases, it is not even disguised.

When you see the pontificating puppets on cable scream outrageously, turn it off. When you see the news hounds bark with pro liberal or pro conservative, turn it off. When the racist decry racism, turn it off. It is time to unplug. Or switch to wrestling. It’s more honest.

The J schools could start to change this sickness. Young journalist see nothing wrong with the Rolling Stone cover. Why? Because you taught them. You won’t find ethics courses in business schools for the most part. If they are in J schools, they aren’t working.