Now, as you may recall, I'm not exactly overwhelmed by blogtopia aggrandizement, and if you catch me in a bad mood I'm liable to toss a "Glen Reynolds--now there's a successful blogger," or "How 'bout that revolutionary All-Star Blogger Convention coverage, eh?" at you. But today I'm just tickled, but not as much as I was by Amy herself:
Then there is the amount of space that many bloggers spend on minutiae. Who cares where they went over the weekend or how their children did in the science fair and what movies they saw? I mean, if I don't have the time and patience to read such ephemera, I suspect that you don't, either.
Because, one, it's certain she's never read what such ephemera can be in the hands of Chris Clarke or Michael Bérubé, e.g., and two, she seems to have an odd blind spot over just how much mindlessness is perpetrated by important, that is to say, paid journalists, despite the fact that the empty calories of Missing White Girl of the Week and Tom Cruise Watch make up such a high percentage of the National diet. It's just a guess, but I'd bet the Enquirer has a greater circulation than Dissent and Commentary combined (which would make them Dissentary, if I may steal the best gag Woody ever wrote). And I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Rita "Howlin' Wolf" Cosby outearns James "James Wilcox" Wolcott.
That the worldview of the terminal journalistic careerist is impervious to any assault from self-reflection doesn't surprise me anymore; I remember catching a panel discussion retrospective on the 2000 election coverage, which included "Dean" Broder and "Steno Sue" Schmidt, giving themselves high marks for their work. I mean, Corporate Medicine, Inc., spends a lot of time going after midwives and chiropractors and herbal remedies, but they manage to examine their own practices from time to time, don't they?