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Dan Carlson
Houston, Texas

I'm a twentysomething white male with ambitions to be a professional film critic and generally spend my days getting paid to watch movies and write about it. A compulsive reader and stubborn cineaste, I take an often contrary stance to my more fundamentalist peers and upbringing by celebrating the pursuit of the good, and the Good, in life, love, art and film. If you watched enough episodes of certain TV shows — for starters, "The Hungry and the Hunted," "The Cut Man Cometh," "The Body," "The Zeppo," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April Is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day," "An Echolls Family Christmas," "Look Who's Stalking," "The Garage Door," "Charlie Gets Crippled," "Wind Sprints," and "Corner Boys" — you would understand me completely, and you'd also realize that much of my worldview and philosophical insights are heavily influenced by fictional works/programs, and many of the good things I've said in my life are just a regurgitation of someone else's imaginings, or at any rate a heartfelt attempt to interpret them. I guess I was made to be a film critic.

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March 11, 2008

"A Newspaper Can't Love You Back"

By Dan Carlson

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The title of this post is taken from a fantastic and also terribly depressing essay David Simon recently wrote for Esquire. You can read the whole thing here. When you're done, hop on over to the sites listed below for a broader view of the general unrest and unhappiness that's worming its way through the industry and the medium.

Excerpts from AngryJournalist.com:

Angry Journalist #1106: I’m angry because I work so much that I can’t get a decent date to save my life. Then I take a day off to go to the doctor, who says I’m stressed and charges me $150. His recommendation: Have more of a social life. Thanks genius for completing the Catch-22.

Angry Journalist #1107:
I’m angry because print journalism is dying, internet journalism doesn’t exist yet and there’s just not much else to do for someone who’s young, energetic and loves to write. I’m angry because the medium is committing suicide as fast as it’s dying and the people who should care the most — average people and readers and thinkers — don’t give a shit. I’m angry because in the age of information, I’m being scared off the only profession I’m suited for.

Angry Journalist #1272:
I’m angry because as a music journalist in the UK, there will be no realistic job prospects for me when I get to my mid-30s, by which time I will have fulfilled a lifetime ambition but still won’t be able to afford to live in anything but a shared house or contemplate such things as saving for a pension or, in fact, getting a taxi back home from a night out instead of the night bus with the crack-heads.

Angry Journalist #1268:
2/29/2008
22 out at the L.A. Daily News (buyouts and layoffs)
9 at the Daily Breeze (layoffs)
8-9 at Long Beach (layoffs/attrition/consolidation)

Also, Headsup: The Blog is a great resource for info and gripes related to copy editing. Then again, I'm the kind of person who can talk about how happy he was when AP made "fundraiser" one word in all instances, so the site's right up my alley.

If you need a happiness chaser, there's also Happy Journalist, or this puppy howling.

Comments: 4

Awwww! Cute puppy howling!!!

(Sorry, I know how obviously lame this comment is, but after the past couple weeks of hell, I can only stand the cute and fluffy stuff. I'll read that article later, and maybe have something insightful to add. But until then...)

AWWWW!!! So CUTE!

Armando

Oh boo-hoo! Try being a composer of classical music!

All right, all right...have a hug.

Armando

I know, I was a total prick there. It was just the pajiban way to say, "I feel your pain."

Hater from Siloam Springs

Wow. What a pathetic bunch of ...

Listen -- it may come as a shock, but most people don't live the dream of being Hemmingway or Woodward and Bernstein. Most of us realized early that writing is a privilege and an art, not an entitlement.

So go get a real job, work that for 10 or 15 years, write every day either first thing or at night while living a human life rather than one in a tower which you thought was ivory but turns out to be a tradesman dungeon, and when that's all done, you can publish something worth reading rather than your journeyman narrative reporting which is frankly as disposable as any blog, and probably not received as joyously.

"the only profession you're suited for" is a self-perpetuated myth. If you need to eat, you can and will work, and if you hate sorting mail or filing or scanning crap at WAL*MART you'll figure out how to demonstrate initiative without kissing some idiot's hairy ass so you can lead rather than follow.

But to cry about the end of print journalism -- dude, print journalism died a decade ago, and the circulation numbers are just now catching up because people are sick to death of picking up newspapers in their driveway when they can (and have already) set up an RSS feed to their mobile device from their Feedburner.

Think of it this way: this is your contribution to global ecology. No more newspaper to throw away is a big win for the environment.

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The Lines

The Quotes

"The critic is the only independent source of information. The rest is advertising."
— Pauline Kael

"Film lovers are sick people."
— Francois Truffaut

"I hope I strike a blow for chubby bald men everywhere. I hope they rise like an army."
Paul Giamatti, quoted in the Los Angeles Times, 12/14/04

"Let others praise ancient times, I am glad I was born in these."
— Ovid

The Shelves

Dan's  book recommendations, reviews, favorite quotes, book clubs, book trivia, book lists

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the wisdom

Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
— Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe

Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives.
— John Stuart Mill

We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget.
— G.K. Chesterton

We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy.
— Me, Fall 2003

There is a time in the lives of most writers when they are vulnerable, when the vivid dreams and ambitions of childhood seem to pale in the harsh sunlight of what we call the real world. In short, there's a time when things can go either way.
— Stephen King

Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town.
Ask the Dust, John Fante