Research

I'm sitting here staring into space again and I don't know why why why I just can't seem to get my arse in gear especially since my deadline is one week today!

I guess it must be the curse of being a journalist (any excuse...), but since I've been faffing about for the whole day, I decided I shall share something really hilarious that I came across while doing my research.

To put things in context, my thesis is largely based on the digital age. The impact of new media on old media – or what some pundits choose to call it – 'we media' versus 'elite media'. Citizen journalism versus tradition journalism, bloggers versus professionals.

Which reminds me... Janet Street-Porter from the Independent on Sunday wrote this very sharp, slightly scathing, but nevertheless insightful article about blogging. In her words, "bloggers are those who, at the end of the day, can't get published."

But how about people who can get published but blog too???

Speaking of which, today I realised the very fine line between being officially published, and trying to blog anonymously. I created a blog the other day in my name and stupidly forgot to take it off my usual profile. Someone from News International apparently googled my name and came across my profile, which led to this blog, and the one with my real name on it. Doesn't take a genius to marry the two together, and I realised with one sick feeling that my frivolous posting, my blogging, without a care to sound like my published self, has been discovered by someone who was trying to find out something about me. There's something really eerie about knowing someone out there's googled your name, maybe in innocence to find out what stories you've written etc, but stumbled onto your personal life instead, in all its full frothy, flippant glory. What if I know that person in a professional context? What if I said something really silly and embarrassing; that has nothing to do with my published self! Still, but still, we persist in blogging details of our life to varying degrees. And publish it on the web. Not fully comprehending that anyone in the world could read it anytime and anywhere. (Unless of course it contains explicit porn, or paedophilic content, in which case, your site will be banned from most ISPs) Why! Is the question.

Maybe Porter was right, if you get published, don't blog. Leave that to those who don't. But then again, there's something so therapeutic about inane blogging – don't we all agree? Who cares who reads it? As long as I get the satisfaction out of it. But – and here's the danger – in the seemingly anonymous world of cyberspace, everything is deceptively hidden, but nothing really is. So once again, I have to remind myself, keep my published name, separate from my blogging self – rants and frivolous posting aside, I need to maintain my professional image. Can't have a potential newsmaker/client/mere acquaintance find out my innermost fears, hopes and desires, now... can I?

There's something very egotistical about blogging which everyone indulges in, but I just can't seem to find the guts to post a picture of myself online, with my name, and my personal life in beautiful detail (odd, for a – as my friends wrongly claim – rather egotistical person like myself. I prefer to call it confidence. ) I either display my name in relation to official stuff, or strictly business-only content. Or blog behind a pseudonym, revealing my other self in all its self-censored revelry. Maybe one day I'll finally be able to reconcile it in my head and do it. Just. do. it.

It can really be a headfuck. Take for example, Zoe Margolis, author of the blog Girl With A One Track Mind whose anonymity was recently exposed by The Sunday Times. I was working at another newspaper and happened to come across, at the photocopier, a piece that she had written for the paper (due to be published that week) and in that piece, she talks about being confused; how she's become a laughing stock in her profession and the vulnerability of it all – having your life exposed to anyone. who reads.

But she must have seen it coming. A few people in the newsroom were discussing how naive it is to think that one can write behind a mask, publish a book and chart her sex life in pornographic detail – make fame and money from it, and still expect to emerge unscathed.

Maybe my inability to reconcile the 'publish' side of myself, and the 'blogging' side of myself is a result of my cynicism and skepticism towards anonymity – that one day perhaps all the lewd (only at times) and brutal details I've ever written will come back to bite me on my peachy bum.

Do I really want to deal with the actualization of that reality?

It never pays to be naive.

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But I digress.

The really hilarious thing that I was gonna share at the start, was actually this podcast from The Mr Brown Show.

Context (mainly for my English friends): Mr Brown was a (satirical) columnist in a free newspaper in Singapore; he still is a prominent blogger in the Singapore community website. And he was mentioned in the recent Prime Minister's Rally Speech because of a controversial article he wrote. Without getting involved in what the controversy was (this is part of my dissertation and you can read it when I've finished if you want to), Mr Brown responded with his own podcast, an...er, adaptation of... er, part of PM Lee's speech.

It is all good harmless fun. Very, very funny. I absolutely pissed myself when I heard it. I still click on it now and then just to make myself laugh.

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