Continuing from the previous post, perhaps I'm being overly sensitive to the often cadaverous finger-pointing of the newspaper trade in general. To each his own, and it's probably unacceptable to expect conscience and creativity from something that never promised either in the very first place. But, on the other side, “baby accidentally suffers burns in hot bath”—come on? We all open and close our eyes to the overly mundane and inane of our meager circumferences; giving ready voice to it only adds to a chattering chaotic world that's already threatening to slip through our collective grip.
There's too much data. The world is too cold and objective. I don't need computer read-outs of social entropy. I'm looking for a human voice.
The Times-Picayune has concluded an eight-part feature on one local homicide. Is it a harbinger of a different kind of reporting? I'm not sure. The behind-the-scenes account seems to borrow something from cable television. But it's damn interesting, and the reader is actually allowed to see and feel for the players: the detectives, the family, and the victim.
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