As most of you know, the “Artful Strategist” offers up artful strategies for almost all of life’s problems, from international finance to Hartford politics to Connecticut business regulation to why you shouldn’t loan your neighbor your drill, if you ever expect to need it again.
But the Artful Strategist is not God, even if it often seems that way.
The Artful Strategist is haunted by problems of his own, for which there are no apparent artful strategies.
For instance, Cohen is a simple scribe, content to sit down at his electric typewriter, bang out a piece, and declare the day a remarkable success. But there are storm clouds on the horizon; there are trends and scenarios and perturbations that threaten the pastoral life of scribes who only want to be left alone.
Have you noticed that on a regular basis, the editor of this publication rouses himself, brushes the cigar ashes off his lapel, and appears on the local NBC television affiliate to report on business news?
Have you noticed that many journalists of every race, color, creed and size of publication produce blogs on the Internet, filled with their opinions and offering readers the opportunities to interact, to comment, to query, to pretend that they, too, are journalists, with trench coats and fedoras and cigarettes and stuff.
Even as we speak, the longtime ESPN hotshot Dan Patrick is escaping to Sports Illustrated, where he will write a weekly column, host live events, simulcast a radio show on the Web and, of course, write a daily blog, which will feature a streaming video of Patrick having sex with Paris Hilton.
Courant Events
There is no end in sight to this multi-media, interactive nightmare. Have you noticed the experiment that the Hartford Courant conducted with their coverage of certain local-yokel, small-city political campaigns? The poor reporters not only had to write their daily political porridge, but they produced lots of other political stuff for a special Web-blog thing, invited contributions and questions from readers, and offered up a streaming video of the candidates having sex with Paris Hilton.
And the Journal Register Co., which owns the New Haven Register and a number of other media properties in the state, is advertising for Web editors capable of sitting down next to their reporters, urging them to produce not only their Planning and Zoning Commission story, but also Internet analysis and exegesis; a blog; and, of course, a video of themselves in compromising positions with Paris Hilton.
Just the other night on the ABC News affiliate in New Haven, I saw a veteran television reporter offer up a story about Connecticut Department of Transportation truck and equipment drivers, and whether they should have to meet the same medical screening requirements as other commercial drivers. And then the reporter invited viewers to, of course, go online and offer up their opinions. He look haunted, that reporter. His producer made him say that. I could tell.
Cohen wants none of it. When his words hit the newsprint, the deal is done, the matter is settled, and he needs no input, no blog, no Paris Hilton videos.
Don’t you shrug this off as a petty Cohen problem, for which there must be an artful strategy. All your big-shot, smarty-pants, corporate CEOs are about 10 minutes away from being tricked into starting your own blog (“Oh, boss, you should do it; it will make you seem approachable”).
There you were, happy in the knowledge that all you had to write was that lame letter in the annual report (“We will continue to focus on increasing shareholder value, even as we recognize that our employees are our most important asset.”) Now, you’ll be spending three hours a day bantering electronically with 15 left-wing nuns in Nebraska who think you are a Merchant of Death, because you sell toothbrushes to the Pentagon.
This all must stop. I am not interested in interacting with you, except to open the envelope with the columnist gratuity that you send at Christmas time. I will write my column, you will do as I say, and that will be the end of it. No blog. No interactivity. No multimedia exposure. No streaming video.
Paris and I deserve our privacy.
Laurence D. Cohen is a freelance writer.
