Once I finish the chess tournament I’ll have some time to process and blog about (the nonconfidential parts of) the training course I attended this week. But the highlight was clearly a presentation by Rob Curley, Internet Punk. Rob is new media journalism on steroids, amphetamines and Red Bull. (Not literally, I hope.)
Possibly under the influence of a pear martini at Henrietta’s Table, I realized that Rob’s work is like Jimmy Neutron’s knuckleheaded sidekicks Carl and Sheen. Sheen is great fun because of his manic embrace of trivial matters. If the world is about to end, Sheen will fret mostly over missing a particular rerun of Ultra Lord and cough up some gem like “Why Oh Why couldn’t world end on a THURSDAY!”. Curley has a wonderful knack for finding great drama in places we’re conditioned to overlook or dismiss. Case in point: Full bore, nonstop , World Series-level coverage of little league games for a local paper in Kansas. If you’re not part of the league, your knee-jerk reaction is to say “ridiculous!” But if you’re in the league, it makes perfect sense.
Sheen would be proud.
And I should watch less television.