Ever since the media emerged in our country, people have hated us. They ignore us when we report good news, and they blame us for bad news. They call us muckrakers, sensationalists. When we call out the government, they scoff at us; we only air dirty laundry.
They readily spew our defectors: Jayson Blair, Stephen Glass, Armstrong Williams, as if the select few who have defecated on the art represent the whole.
When a child brings a gun to school, it is the spawn of the media. When children fight on the playground, it must be the media. When a man hits a woman; when a woman kills her children—all the problems in our country eventually trace back to one entity: the media.
So I would like to issue a disclaimer. Well, no, a “claimer,” if such a thing exists. We are the media. The stories you read in this publication and in the world at large are stories that need to be told. And we proudly wield our pen and pads to tell them.
So sit back, enjoy. Or, perhaps do not enjoy. Get mad, upset, outraged, shocked, awed. Compose an e-mail, a letter to the editor.
But whatever you do, just read. That is all we ask. The tradition of pen in ink survives through the reader. On page 24, General Manager of the Daily Bulletin Steve O’Sullivan says that writing is simply about writing, rather than about readers. Although that may be true, readers are what keep writing alive.
People can write whatever they want, but it is the reader who makes it immortal. If somebody composes a piece, and nobody actually reads it, was it ever really there? It’s the proverbial “If a tree falls in the forest . . . .” dilemma. It is those who take it in—who are truly affected by it—who make it exist.
So although you may hate us, you are our reason for being. As long as you read on, we will be here, haunting your dreams, corrupting your children, causing hundreds of years of ills to a country that would be much better without us.
So check us out.