Scribbler Rage
At AngryJournalist.com. Type and gripe just hit the 21st century. Type and whine was already there.
Angry Journalist #1985:
Disorganization. Incompetence. Zero planning. Substandard storytelling. The editors’ - that’s plural, many plural - explain:
“Hey, you work at a big metro daily newspaper. Get used to it.”
What an excuse to fall down on your job, repeatedly. Any other industry and they’d be looking for other work. And rightly so.
Angry Journalist #1984:I write a newsletter for members of a humanitarian club at school, in which I arrange various text boxes in an aesthetically pleasing manner and write articles so that they don’t have to sift through the crap on the internet or so that they will actually go out and buy a newspaper.
I choose headlines and crop photos and cite every single one of them, and make sure they know about what is happening in Sri Lanka or Spain or bloody Jerusalem.
And of course, no one bothers to read it.
Angry Journalist #1983:
I get my ass handed to me if I miss a deadline by a fraction….but have to spend hours a week defending the magazine for its tardiness on its own publication schedule.
Angry Journalist #1982:
I win an award for something I wrote and I write good articles that get published every month, and I bring home the school newspaper to my mother every month so she can see why I haven’t slept in three days. And she’ll nod, and say good job.
And then I will bring her my pink registration card, and she will ask my why I’m taking Journalism again. Later she’ll ask my why I’m not going into pharmacy, or radiology, or pediatrics. And then I’ll open up my acceptance letter to Northwestern, and she’ll hand me one from UCI.
Angry Journalist #1981:
I’m a first year writer at my high school newspaper, and I’m angry because my editor undermines everyone on the staff and their potential.
We’re a small school so we don’t have beginning journalism classes, so if you’re joining the paper you’ve never seen an AP style book, have never written for News or Sports or Op-Ed, and really have no idea what the hell is going on.
But she attacks people for their articles when they aren’t up to her par (which she can’t even reach herself). Edits aren’t edits, sometimes they feel like insults. And I’m fed up with her telling people they’re sh*tty writers.
It’s perfectly understandable to be angry as an editor, it’s perfectly understandable to be mad when students turn in their drafts an hour or two late, but if I’m going to turn in my draft 3 hours ahead of the deadline, why don’t I ever get edits?
So…why does our adviser keep defending you?
Angry Journalist #1980:
I’m angry because I can feel myself becoming twisted and bitter just over stuff that happens at my student paper. It seems like nobody knows what they’re doing, and whenever they mess up and print something wrong the most they can do is shrug and say mistakes happen, then not run a correction or follow-up article or anything. In the last year they’ve managed to alienate everyone on campus, go insanely right-wing, and print the most outlandish and unresearched articles possible.
What makes it worse is that it’s a student paper, and I know nobody outside (and most people inside) of campus don’t care about it at all. I’m getting worked up over nothing.
Angry Journalist #1979:
I consider my self very luck to have my job, I love what I do every day. But… when i ask to take half a vacation day and am told “no I need you to sit in the office incase something happens.” It really pisses me off.
Angry Journalist #1978:
I just got laid off from my journalism job of the last 4 years out in California, due to the ongoing “right-sizing” of the Los Angeles Newspaper Group (please feel free to vomit at reading that term). I consider myself lucky simply due to the fact I got a decent severance package. I am going to take 3 months while I can spend my severance on beer, whiskey, and baseball tickets, while also collecting unemployment as long as the Governator doesn’t try to kill me while I don’t really look for work.
Or something like that. See some of you, my disgruntled brethren, out at bars and ballparks across America.
It goes on for pages. My advice to all of them. Law school. Or join the Army and get something worthwhile to gripe about. Nod to Moderate Voice.
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 11:01 am on Monday, March 10, 2008
4 Responses to “Scribbler Rage”
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March 10th, 2008 at 12:02 pm
heheheh
Interesting site. I just emailed the owner and asked if her wanted to link to http://www.angry.net.
March 10th, 2008 at 2:19 pm
When are people going to learn that nobody cares. They are simply not interested. They are so overwhelmed with getting through today and their own problems that they have neither the time nor the energy to care about you or your problems.
Further, I can guarantee you that no politician cares. They think you are as disposable as a dirty piece of kleenex, and are interested in you only to the extent that you might give them money.
Finally, the Federal government really doesn’t care. It is an aggregation that has no heart and no mind. Its politician employees don’t care, I disposed of them in the previous paragraph. The civil servants have civil service and cannot be fired. They really don’t care.*
Nobody cares. Stop whining. Get over yourself. Go get a life. STFU.
*I liked the movie Seabiscuit. But, the film makers felt the need to put in a plug for their favorite political party and its greatest accomplishment — the “New Deal”. So they tossed in some 1930s Depression era photographs and added the following narration:
“They called it “relief,” but it was a lot more than that. It had dozens of names; N.R.A., W.P.A., the C.C.C. But it really came down to just one thing. For the first time in a long time, someone cared. For the first time
in a long time, you were no longer alone.”
If you have been paying attention, you know that statement is a lie — a bald face lie, because No One Cares!.
March 10th, 2008 at 5:29 pm
I’m reminded of that venerable old saying, “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” It must have some applicability. The Marines enjoyed it.
March 11th, 2008 at 3:30 am
I am not nearly so cynical about my fellow man. I think he has a healthy aversion to someone telling him that it is his duty and moral imperative to care about the things another cares about. A thing espoused as a duty denies the benevolence and generosity of the giver. A moral imperative denies the individual his choice of what to think about and what to value. My response is “take care of your own business and I’ll take care of mine.”
Frankly, I don’t trust anyone who tells me he is concerned about the world. It usually means he has the narcissistic vanity of a brute and a parasite — which is what he accuses others of being. What is there to care about in such a person?