“Anyone can commit an act of journalism.”

That’s what Ana Marie Cox said during last Sunday’s McLaughlin Group discussion devoted to “new media.” The panelists didn’t mention that neither New Media nor the older term for it—Web 2.0—is very new, but they clearly weren’t assuming their television audience to be Net-savvy multitaskers: Even blog was explained graphically (WEB + LOG) for those not yet up to speed.

Panelist Scott Gant’s book was cited, too, but one of the most genuinely important aspects (in my opinion) of New Media’s journalistic standards never came up. I raised my point in the following feedback submission:

Dear McLaughlin Group staff,

I enjoyed the discussion on September 2, 2007, about evolving journalistic practices in the Internet era, though I was a little surprised to see “new media” still treated as though it’s news.

In Ana Marie Cox’s words, “Anyone can commit an act of journalism.” That statement’s implicit allusion to vandalism made me realize that one area in which old media diverges significantly from the new is adherence to (or disregard for) conventions of style and usage. Generally speaking, dot-com companies—and individuals who self-publish on the Internet—don’t have access to, or possibly even perceive the need for, the editing and proofreading resources taken for granted in traditional mass media.

I wonder if it might be newsworthy that some people are actively trying to remedy that disparity. Even vigilant volunteers (as, for instance, at Wikipedia) are promoting a less anarchic, more grammatical model for the user-generated content that drives “Web 2.0.” Of course, it’s great to get the details right on principle—but when represented only by words, one’s reputation and success could be at stake, too. Raising people’s awareness of the role our writing plays is the first step of enterprises like my own (www.sharpermessage.com).

Best regards,

Whoops! I forgot to end my message with “BYE BYE.”

Duck, it’s a coup de gras!

On Sunday, September 2, 2007, Chris Matthews, speaking as host of his morning talk show, listed some Republican politicians whose behavior proved troublesome for the party’s image: Bob Livingston, Newt Gingrich, Mark Foley, David Vitter and “the latest coup de gras [sic]: Larry Craig.”

Wikipedia’s explanation under Coup de grâce is characteristically illuminating:

The French pronunciation of the phrase is [ku də gras], but English speakers sometimes mispronounce it as [ku de’gra]. Not pronouncing the final “c” is an example of a hyperforeignism: in French, this mispronunciation sounds like coup de gras, which means “a blow of fat.”

I didn’t know coup de gras was representative of a linguistic phenomenon; I wondered where Mr. Matthews might have encountered that mispronunciation. Now, for many viewers who will be citing The Chris Matthews Show as the place they heard it spoken that way, another hyperforeignism has been added—or its presence confirmed—in their own idiolects.

Did the WTC collapse form energy?

“It was just an enormous amount of energy that was being formed by the collapse of the building, and that energy compressed the air and caused the dust to be blown out of the side of the building.” Gene Corley, Structural Engineer, “The 9/11 Conspiracies: Fact or Fiction,” The History Channel.

Does that make sense from a scientific viewpoint? This statement caught my attention because I’d assumed that energy is released.

I admit that it’s been a long time since my high school physics class. (At least it was math-based; my college course was as close to a “mick”—i.e., an easy class with watered-down material (in this case for humanities majors)—as UCLA offered in those days.)

Wikipedia: “The total amount of mass and energy in a closed system … remains constant. Energy cannot be created or destroyed ….”

Is this definition accepted only as applies to a “closed system”—which I’m not sure I understand!—or does it have broader application? Is it accepted as scientific fact, or considered an aspect of the theory of relativity?

Grasping the science is probably both beyond me and beside the point. I just wondered if a falling building forms energy, or if it’s plausible for a scientist to say that.

“Helmsley’s inheritance for her dog”

When one thinks of inheritance, is it implicitly from the perspective of the beneficiary? Is an inheritance—like a birthright—understood to be received or possessed, rather than bestowed or given? I think so, though I didn’t find supporting evidence in the definitions I found.

This was the announcement of an upcoming segment on Entertainment Tonight, WCBS-TV, on September 1, 2007:

“Inside Leona Helmsley’s inheritance for her dog.”

Helmsley’s point of view is established by the prepositional phrase for her dog. Wouldn’t what she gave her dog be better described as a bequest or a legacy? I feel pretty strongly that’s the case, but don’t have any explanation but the prosaic one: different words, different shades of meaning.

On a lighter note, the phrase brought to mind Groucho Marx’s old chestnut, too:

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too hard to read.”