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Western Carolinian Volume 60 Number 20

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  • February 16, 1995 Western Carolinian 1 Editorial A Regurgitation of Flies Note: What you have in your hands isn't what I originally turned in to the Editor. The first draft to this was really depressing and angry, typical Williams fare. This is what happens when the author stops bullshitting and tries to get to the point. Hope you get some mileage out of it. HiHo. Me and a friend were sitting around the house the other night, smoking, drinking, listening to music. The subject of the future came up. My friend is going to be in school another year so all he has to do is continue to make good grades (he's currently maintaining a 3.4 GPA) and then maybe he'll consider grad school. Maybe not. Maybe he'll drop the whole damn academic process altogether, who knows. The subject soon came up about my future. I said that I was scared. That after four years of education, of being constantly challenged and enlightened with so many new experiences and ideas, my biggest fear is going out into the Real World and trying to (don't laugh) carve a niche for myself. Let's be honest, folks, the majority of the stuff that I write is too weird for a normal editor or publisher. People like Blake Frizzell are unique because they're willing to take a chance with a new idea, even if they s e c t i o n don't like or understand it. The n.'rr.ial" guys just don't have that same bold pioneering spirit, especially in the "Real World," and that's a shame because that's the place that needs it. College needs to nourish creativity and the Job Market needs to make sure that it gets out there to the public who will then decide whether or not it sucks. But, let's be honest, that's not the way it is nor'the way it's-going to be. We're being taught to be creative in a society that doesn't encourage (much less pay) people to think and to be creative. The days of the freelancer are over and the small magazines are barely managing to keep their electric bills and office rents paid. The worry about actually "paying" their writers wages that sort of closely resemble enough money to live on is laughable. The big money is at Time and Newsiveek but you have to be an Ivy League boy or a Hartford man or some other stupid "shit" that has "fuck-allito do with what you've specialized in. WCU ,ust doesn't cut it in their eyes. Your employer sits there behind his (or her) desk and asks "Where's that at?" and you're forced to give him (or her) an answer. Scary. But I'm getting off the subject. Sorry, I was being creative. As my friend and I talked, the subject of suicide reared its ugly head. I'll be perfectly honest; there are days when I want to end it all, put a gun up to my head and blow my brains across the wall. But then I thought about all of the people that would be sad once they learned of my demise. Then I thought about all of the people who would laugh and get the satisfaction of knowing that 1 was too much of a "chickenshit" coward to see life through, especially all of my fans at Power 91 who would probably throw the ultimate keg party on receiving the news. Then I was reminded of the axiom "Living well is the best Revenge" and I smiled again. I've been on this really depressing trip lately. 1 observe all of my friends writing up their resumes, getting everything ready for their big leap into the "Real World." They've made their connections and they're getting ready to take their final flight outta here, and that's cool; I hope they eventually become their ideal. What the hell could I, Mr."Dave Fuckin' Williams," tell a prospective employer ? "Will work for food?" I don't think so. You see, I arrived at WCU just as the Communications Department was dividing itself into factions. This means that I will now have a degree in a nonexistent field, despite the intensive training that I've had with Radio and Television equipment, all manners of computers related to the field, and a considerable amount of writing experience. Do I feel qualified ? Not by a long shot. I feel like I've barely skimmed the surface. I've done a considerable amount of work in my chosen field of study, all of it on my own terms and in my own style. All of it 'unmarketable." So I guess the big question is: "Hey, where do all of the smart-assed creative people go to get a job and earn a living ?" I'm too weird for the Sylva Herald & Franklin Press. Asheville Citizen ? Yeah, Right. Since I've got some radio experience, how's about working at WRGC or KISS-FM ? I'd be fired in a week. The minute I started playing some John Prine or Grateful Dead, I'd be out the door. And besides, radio isn't about playing music and entertaining people, it's about selling advertising and making money. It's not about "Hey, I wonder if this guy has talent and knows his shit ?" It's about "Hey, I wonder how this guy would look in a suit ? How many ads can he sell?" I understand the need for money. I can't live without it. But I also understand having a gift and not being allowed to use it. "Welcome to the Unemployment Line, College Boy. You now have enough education and experience to successfully manage a McDonald's. You want any fries to go with that ?" Damn. "It only costs a quarter" WC Advisor offers insight to readers "It only costs a quarter." Lewis Grizzard, the Pulitzer Prize winning syndicated columnist whose soul must surely be at play in the fields of a journalistic Valhalla, wrote that simple response to people who expected too much from their newspapers. Although newspapers generally cost 50 cents or more now, his point remains valid when adusted for rising prices. Some recent letters to the Western Carolinian suggest that some of its readers need to be reminded that 'It only costs a quarter.' Actually, it costs even less, but more on that later. Grizzard knew that newspapers would never be able to fix the world's problems or resolve fundamental differences among people. He knew that today's newspapers would never do more than carry temporary messages and then become puppy trainers or garbage wraps. Within almost crippling budgetary and deadline constraints, newspapers attempt to gather information from people called sources. Some sources want to manipulate newspapers for personal or political gain. Many are reluctant to talk to reporters or other independent information gatherers. Some have reasons to lie and conceal pertinent details. Newspapers get the information and then seek to verify as much of it as possible in the time available by checking potential facts with other sources (who may be equally unreliable). When editors judge that enough facts are assembled, newspapers communicate verified, factual information to people called readers who may or may not want all of the messages communicated to them by newspapers. Typically, readers select messages they feel are important and skip over others. Whichever messages readers decide to select on a given day, newspapers provide them by anticipating reader demands and choices. Sometimes newspapers anticipate reader demands, provide factual messages responsive to those demands, and manage to come up with writing of high quality. But, such writing is exceptional. More often, available time is consumed with information gathering and verification. Precious little time remains for even basic copy editing, much less for polishing literary style or coming up with the most creative layout. In short, newspapers serve as messengers. That's it. They're just humble messengers. Sometimes they entertain us in the process, but that's a bonus. Grizzard knew that accurate and timely messages most of the time were "Advisor," Continued on Page 18
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