Come February of every year, scads of entertainment journalists engage in a ritual peculiar to their beat. They apply for press credentials to cover the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ annual Academy Awards.
An awards ceremony for motion pictures presented on television epitomizes traditional media. If the gold statuette was wrapped in newspaper like a fish, perhaps the event could be even more quaintly 20th century. Despite its antiquarian trappings, this year Oscar is poised at the nexus of traditional and social media.
In addition to the usual questions used to vet journos’ credibility in the online credential application, a new query appears: “Tell us about how we can find you online—blogs, Twitter, Facebook, other social media platforms.”
Social media like Twitter have been a boon for journalists, and not merely for those upgrading their bylines to brand names. (The Pew Research Center’s Project for Excellence in Journalism cited the “personal branding” of journalists online as a major trend in its State of the News Media Report for 2009.) Social media tools have also enabled journalists laboring under repressive regimes to bypass censors and transmit reportage to the world, if only at 140 characters at a time.
For some media critics, freedom of the press coupled with free blogging services have resulted in either a free-for-all or a free fall. Consider the so-called citizen journalists, whose training consists of little more than glossing the “Terms of Service” agreement on a video-sharing site and who routinely break stories via social media. In an era when an anonymously posted YouTube video depicting the death of 26-year-old Iranian activist can put those who produced it in the company of New York Times and New Yorker reporters when winning journalism’s prestigious George Polk Award, the redefining of what a journalist is must be under way.
In its own way, the Academy Communications Department, which dispenses Oscar credentials, has contributed to this process. In short, professional journalists are now expected to have a social media presence—just like the amateurs.
ABC, which broadcast the Oscars this Sunday, has yet to reveal an official policy regarding tweeting at the Oscars, whether that be by journalists, attendees or even nominees (Up in the Air director Jason Reitman seems to be the only nominee with an active Twitter account). Rival network NBC, however, has had to contend with the social media factor head-on as some of its current XXI Olympic Winter Games broadcasts are released on taped delay; it is hopeless to prevent medal results from being tweeted to the world. There is, as yet, no such thing as a tweet-delay, though the Iranians are surely working on one.
The International Olympic Committee speaks to this, in part, with its “IOC Blogging Guidelines for Persons Accredited at the XXI Olympic Winter Games, Vancouver 2010,” a four-page document intended to police the social media habits of accredited attendees.
“It is required that, when Accredited Persons at the Games post any Olympic Content, it be confined solely to their own personal Olympic-related experience,” it states, suggesting that no news is good news, but writing of one’s aspiration to appear on a box of Wheaties is acceptable.
Moreover, “the IOC considers blogging, in accordance with these guidelines, as a legitimate form of personal expression and not as a form of journalism.” Micro-blogging, fittingly, was addressed via tweet on the Olympics’ official Twitter account where athletes were encouraged to share the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat: “Athletes go ahead and tweet, as long as it’s about your personal experience at the games.”
As a live event, the Oscars have little fear of its winners being revealed prior to some celebrity saying, “The envelope, please.” At worst, entertainment journalists will offer a deluge of online snark, which they will later recapitulate online, in print and wherever else news goes to die. If Oscar winners tweeted their acceptance speech à la “You like me, you really like me. #Oscar,” that might warrant a re-tweet or two. But, alas, no.





Under penalty of public humiliation, never ever ask me for a creative contribution based on the prospect of “great exposure.” The fact that you believe this to be attractive to a working professional means I’m overexposed as is. And apparently to the wrong people – the kind of people who lack respect for the fact that I’ve got to buy food for my infant son to wear.
James Joyce, it is said, became so disgruntled while drafting his first novel that he threw it on the fire. His girlfriend rescued the work-in-progress from the flames, and the subsequent rewrite became A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Such acts of literary self-immolation and redemption could only occur in our once-analog world, when the permanence of erasure moved only as fast as fire. These days, the irreversible deletion of one’s work is a mere keystroke away.



Though Sonoma boasts a statue here, a mural there, the Valley’s relative dearth of public art may account for an increasingly apparent faction of rogue artists who have come to fill the void.
Consider the stenciled pseudo-mural applied to the rear wall of a building on the west side of the 500 block of Broadway. It’s a fairly faithful rendering of both Michelangelo’s David and the Venus De Milo, applied in bold strokes of black spray paint in striking 2-D. In lieu of the fig leaves that sometimes accompany more modest depictions of these sculptures, bold censorial banners obscure certain parts of David and Venus’ otherwise nude anatomy. Written on the banners is the word “Sensored,” which I believe is a misspelling of the word “Censored.” While in the throes of creativity, the artist apparently neglected the difference between a sensor and one who censors (one senses the other is nonsense). Further confounding interpretation of the tableaux is the illustration of a surveillance camera focused upon the figures. I suspect the artist was groping toward an Orwellian-hued commentary a la Big Brother or at least Big Step-Brother: “I’m watching you – except for your naughty bits.” Perhaps the artist intentionally misspelled “censored” to suggest what techies call a “sensor deviation” which can result in a “sensitivity error” when measuring for various data. Unless Michelangelo’s inspiration was not like the other boys, he probably endured a sensitivity error at some time or other, so perhaps here the artist made his point – or not, as the case may be.
Nestled within the clutter of visual white-noise advertising all manner of live music, yoga classes and personal services, is a simple epigram in plain black and white: “Imagine – Imagine wonderful things, imagine a better tomorrow.” The artist completed the instruction with a vamp on ye olde guerilla marketing technique of fringing a flier with pull-tab takeaways. Instead of the usual phone number, however, there is a reiteration of the “Imagine” message.
With Fond Sediments
If you discover you have sediments in your glass, do not reel in terror that you’ve been drinking purple dirt. You’ve just been invited to peer into the future. Raise your glass to the light and turn it such that you’re looking from the bottom up (tea leaf readers do the opposite and consequently are always “looking down” on the future, which it hates). Regard how the sediment is distributed in relation to the stem of your wine glass. If you’re not drinking your wine from a wine glass, you may position a pencil at the bottom of your mayonnaise jar or whatever you’re using to achieve the same effect. Now, notice how the sediment is concentrated – whether it’s atop the stem or circling it like a ring (if its in a ring, skip to the bottom). If it’s clumped above the stem, consider which of the following shapes it most closely resembles.
Anchor – If the sediment suggests an anchor, you’re going to very likely have an unfortunate run-in with your ex. This doesn’t mean it will be unfortunate for you specifically, but it might rile your current sweetie. Of course, this happens in small town Sonoma more than most care to admit, seeing as the dating pool seems to consist of only eight people at any given moment. Note, if the sediment you’re analyzing was revealed while drinking wine with your ex, you’ve got more doubts about the future than sediment can reveal. Put the glass down, call Vern’s Taxi and tell your partner you were with me (unless I’m your ex, in which case, call my wife, the Contessa, and have her pick me up).
Ring – If the sediment in your glass appears in a ring around the stem it means that you’re you’re out of wine. What else? You will soon be drinking more wine. How can you be sure, you ask? You’re in Sonoma, which means you’re either at the beginning of a wonderful adventure – or the end.