I see blogging as the cyber equivalent of the role of host in the medieval ale house. Long before the advent of licensing regulations, the ale house was a private house, a place to gather in congenial company and exchange gossip and opinion. Customers made their choice of venue dependent on whether the host was interested in the latest results of ‘kick the pig’s bladder’ or the sexual proclivities of the Lord of the Manor. If customers became overly rowdy and aggressive, or perhaps had eyes that were fractionally too close together for his taste, the host reserved the right to unceremoniously toss them out of the door.
His house, his rules, his choice of conversation.
There are a number of different conversations going on in the blogosphere today concerning the rise of the independent blogger, whether they represent a threat, and to whom. Andy Burnham MP wants to put in place a system whereby some content, and by extension, some blogs, would not be available for general view. Where children are concerned that is fair comment, and it is right that children are excluded from the ale house these days. The suggestion that bloggers should be regulated as to their choice of conversation has created a firestorm of comment on the Internet and begs the question of why they should be seen as such a threat?
Professional writers are feeling threatened by the blogosphere, they have to fight to be heard alongside those of us afflicted with the Grocer’s apostrophe. It was their choice though, to enter the blogosphere. They already had their own closed shop where they effectively controlled the written conversation.
Yesterday I was invited to post a guest piece on Old Holborn’s riotous blog; it elicited a hilariously misspelt response denouncing my own ignorance of punctuation and grammar (I admit, I am useless and eternally grateful to my very own ‘apostrophe policewoman’ and her daily e-mails!), whilst admiring the:
‘sheer nerve it takes to share this drivel with others, as though it had merit, purpose, vitality, originality’
This suggests that there are cyberpeople within the blogosphere who wish to confine the right to blog to those professionally trained in the art of written communication, surely the philosophical equivalent of wanting to confine speech to the professional orator.
I have sympathy with some journalists such as the inimitable Guidowho have chosen a blog as a way of highlighting political events that the Lords of the Media preferred to keep quiet; Jay Rosen had an interesting theory which I wrote about discussing how and why journalists exclude some voices. It fails to explain the current moves to exclude some voices from the blogosphere.
Could it be that having entered the cyber world, politicians and their slave journalists dislike the ease with which their own voice can be lost in the madding crowd?
Kerry McCarthy MP, muses on his blog
I do wonder though – as more and more people start blogging, will it destroy the sense of a blogging community, as it gets more and more fragmented between lots and lots of sites? Will people hop around more from one site to another, and become ever more promiscuous with their affection, or will it be like newspapers and magazines – they stick to their regulars and only occasionally take a peek at something else? And will it eventually get to the point where newspapers comment columns are redundant because whatever they want to say, it’s already been said before and said better somewhere in the blogosphere?
Which ties in neatly with a piece I found here– it seems that the Falmouth University College is posing the same question to Media students. I trust they will blog on the results of their project, I would be genuinely interested to learn of the views of those just entering the professional writing world with an inbuilt understanding of social media – do they feel threatened and offended by sharing a space with the grammatically unwashed?
Even the best bloggers only report from within their own circle of interests, my view is that newspapers will survive as a genre of ‘public broadcasting’, and so will continue to require the rigorous training and writing ability expected at present; bloggers will continue to strike up conversations of interest to them and those around them in a cacophony of regional accents and patois.
Anna is the landlady of the Raccoon Arms. She lives in the Monbazillac area of South West France and still takes a keen interest in British politics.
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I’m sure he would be delighted to have you Gloria, Old Holborn is great fun.
So long as we don’t lose your very own brand of merit, purpose, vitality and originality around here. Your sparring partner stuck his head in the door a minute ago, I think he’s just gone off for coffee.
I wish I hadn’t thought up that title, I’ve been humming the tune endlessly in my head, can’t get rid of it!
Nah. I think I’ll stick around here thanks, if it’s all t’same t’you. I like the idea of an apostrophe policewoman on patrol.
In the spirit of the thread, I’m just off to see if I can borrow one of Old Smuddy’s checked shirts and, of course, there’s an oily chain-saw in the futility room!
I like the idea of the blogosphere as a medieval ale house
Will you come back to us and let us know how your project went?
It used to be that all the hacks gathered together in the Boozer and swapped all the stories they couldn’t print, a sort of in crowd who were in the know. Deals were struck with editors to not publish, in return for another story.The Internet and e-mail has brought the whole world closer. There is hardly any secrets anymore, the cat is soon out of the bag. It is this lack of control, this ability to firefight stories that is getting on their nerves. Newspapers and television can easily be controlled, it is the lone voice that is difficult to keep track of, plus the many who read and instantly pass it on.
(This has not been checked by the apostrophe woman)
PS , when are we gettting that bloody semi colon man?
Re: Semi colon man
I think he’s having a fitting for his colostomy bag.
He’s busy on a big irrigation project at the moment.
Yes, that kind of thing takes guts – sometimes it can be a real strain and you won’t get wind of me pooh-poohing a project of that nature.
What an honour to be linked to in a post – it was our first pingback. I will make sure that we update you on the findings of our project.
Since September we have been drilled constantly on the importance of the internet and being adaptable in order to survive. All of us on our course were asked to set up (and maintain) blogs of our own so we can get an idea of the wealth of options open to “consumers” in this digital age. As you rightly say, it is no longer a “closed shop” but I don’t see that as a threat to journalism. Instead it is a way of ensuring its survival.
Whereas once the news was a lecture – you were told what the headlines and main stories were without the opportunity for discussion – it is now more like a seminar. Since entering the blogosphere I have found a voice and a space to discuss the current events which speak to me. Which then brings the news to life.
Ultimately without people you have no news, so I say bring on the “cacophony of regional accents and patois,” because I for one don’t want to live in a monolingual society.
Mary,
I think most professions have displayed ‘masonic’ tendencies at times, and tried to exclude the ‘uninitiated’; the ability to exclude and a private language is almost the definition of a profession. Web 2.0 arrived and journalists found the doors of their work place thrown open overnight with no opportunity to prepare themselves. As you say, your generation is going out into the market place forewarned and forearmed.
The Internet has opened a lot of windows for me.
Do blogger jacks Log in to fence posts and bark at other posters if they don’t like the timbre of what they are saying?
If a blog falls in cyber space does anyone hear it?
Sorry – I’ve just been opening my new tabs – what have I missed?
You are welcome here Mary. Do come back and pass comment.
Welcome to the Raccoonteurs!
(quick nod to GS)
Yes, welcome Mary. If it’s a cacophony regional accents you want, oiy kin dew quoiyte a noiyce Brrummiey …
If a blog falls in cyber space does anyone hear it?
…………………………..
Come on then – does anyone hear it or not? Don’t sit on the fence …
“““““`computer accents.
I’m hedging my bets.
Probably wiser than going at it like a bull at a gate, but for a moment I thought you were stonewalling me.
Very Dry. I’m glad you didn’t take offence.
(oldies but goldies)
I’m not quick to take offence but I am easily unhinged.
Here’s me thinking you were pretty stable.
It’s not widely known; in fact, it’s just between you, me and the gatepost.
Too late to shut that door, everyone has seen it now.
I see semi colon man is around.
Has she bolted?
I’m obviously just thinking of something else to say! Semi-colon man had better look out – Exclamation Mark is about …
Is he any relation to Punctuation Mark?
I believe they do belong to the same family; their parentheses are cousins, I think.
Or the Black Sheep of the family…….No Mark.
Or their seaside uncle, Tide Mark?
Not forgetting the Irish link , Mark O’Polo.
I believe one member of the extended family can trace his ancestry back to the aristocracy – he’s Top Mark, obviously.
Did you see another cousin on How Clean is Your House? – Skid Mark?
What about the medieval Quickoff?
I also love your image of the medieval ale house AR – nice one. Wilkes and Liberty!
Evening Janes!
And his diminutive sidekick, Shortoff?
Hmmm. Mark O’Polo. O’Really?
Or the twins.. Mark One and Mark Two.
Evening Anna, evening janes – should we stop this stuff and nonsense now?
Actually – they were triplets, but nobody mentions Low Mark ..
I’m new to blogging. I find it refreshing that no longer are we tied to the MSM for an insight into current events.
I also like, that I can rant whenever I please, and occasionally people agree with me. I can take out my bottled up resentment, and damn anyone to stop me. If they don’t like it then don’t come to my blog.
PS Not that anyone does!
Welcome Nick,
It’s anarchy in here, but I’m sure you’ll find your feet.
There’s a Marks out of ten there somewhere but I’m Buggered if I can find it!
Hmm. That could be your Starter for Ten, though.
Now I’m challenged.
There
Now I
Put another shilling in then.
Gas Coin (sorry)
Hi Nick, your feet are located at the end of your legs.
Thanks for your three ha’poth, Saul, you old groat.
T’ is a Far better thing I do now.
Welcome Nick. No current affairs at this end of the thread, I’m afraid. Anna tries to tie us to current events but some of us are securely tethered to the terminally trivial. I’ll be forcibly removed from here with a size 12 clog in a little while so that e-bay can be watched but, till then …
Penny for your thoughts.
Stirling stuff.
Penny for your thoughts.
……………
Tommy Steele singing ‘Alf a Sixpence, since you ask.
Traffic seems to have come to a grinding halt, again. Is it something I said?
Or not!
E Bay Gum, chew on that for a while.
Saul …. You said that, I didn’t. Don’t think you can Wrigley your way out of it, either.
(sorry janes. Anna – put us into moderation, for goodness sake, or we’ll keep going!)
It’s just bubbling under Anna, don’t burst our bubble.
That’s a relief, she has gone. Wrigleying out of it was my last resort.
Perhaps we should discuss tactics for this blog – or should that be tictacs?
I’ll chew it over for the night…….
Just stick with us for a little longer…
So long as I don’t put my foot in it……
It should definitely be tictacs, jane! Brava!
Yes, Anna, it’s a sticky situation but if you tread carefully you should get a clean getaway. Unlike Saul. He’s just too TuttiFrutti for my liking sometimes.
No Tictacs for ITV. A major sticking point for them.
Touch
I understand you have a lot on your palate at the moment; it’s your blog and clearly it isn’t easy deciding whether you should castigate those who continue to masticate.
Rusticate perhaps, rather than castigate.
Or isolate.
What if I obfuscate?
Or, inadvertently, evacuate? I am easily startled ….
Or, excommunicate, ‘cos then you can let us back in later…
Pardon me while I ruminate.
Maybe somebody should open a window.
Slow down Girls, give the old Buggers a chance.
Here follows an interval in which to cogitate …
Give Saul a chance to conjugate.
Methinks he’s gone for a quick perambulate.
Codgertate, much bette Janes, poor old git, all these women, so little time.
Or codgertate
.. oh, and, err … open the window … just a crack … good idea …
.. actually, I have just been for a ‘comfort-break’, but you will be relieved to know, merely to micturate …
Can be fatal to procrastinate, Gloria.
Come back Saul! You don’t want to give us time for all our oestrogen to saturate the thread, do you?
So, have you given up Saul or are you still trying to trump us (no need to open the window)?
Good point, Anna. I’ll hesitate.
He’s in the dictionary looking up penultimate.
Either that or Middlesborough just scored……..
Can you not delegate Saul?
Yes, come on Saul – retaliate!
Did they? Whay-hey!
Perhaps he’s profligate…?
He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
Suspendies and a bra
He wishes he’d been a girlie
Just like his dear papa
Perhaps it were something he ate?
Rats Janes, I’ve been singing the damn song all day, I’d nearly dropped it, then you go and start it up again………
he’s certainly suddenly rather inanimate …
I must remonstrate. I was Googling “Help”
Goggling Helen more likely!
He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch
He goes to the lavator-eeee
He puts on women’s clothing
And has buttered scones for teeeeeee
Do we refer to young Masser Smudd by any chance?
OK. Better late. Than never.
I will send an e-mail to google tomorrow…Pomegranate is no help!
Well, ’tis time for me to terminate.
Off to ma pit, see ya in the morning all.
It’s the spit of him. Except for the bit about the women’s clothing. And my scones are not really ever very nice. So it’s usually a packet of Hob Nobs. So a bit like Smudd (trees, lunch, going to the lavatory, being a lumberjack and being OK and having tea)
Sleep! Good idea. So, dear Anna, sleep well and wake refreshed. Oh, and did you know when you sleep, your epidermis takes the opportunity to regenerate?
And all the good ideas germinate!
And the bedbugs come out to suck your blood.
Somnambulate.
Last and best word Saul – well done!
Torpidity.
Posted, I might add janes, with admirable alacrity.
Well, I’m not going to bed yet. It’s not that late.
I’m not in the same time zone as you lot – or on the same planet!
Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water………….
Greetings Earthling
On the qui vive Gloria?
Whatever qui you like, janes; you hum it, I’ll play it!
Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water
Gulp!
I cut down trees, I skip and jump
I love to press wild flow’rs
Play that Quiche as long as it is not too cheesy.
yes … I know … the bit about women’s clothing should come next, followed by ‘And hang around in bars..’ but I’m an old lady, slightly giddy on swollen legs and my best friend is my Breville sandwich toaster. Forgive my ineptituded?
and my typos?
And it’s “Time for bed” said Zebedee. Bet you can’t hum that one.
(a hippo typo – should that be a hyppo?)
I can hum flight of the bumble bee.
Of course I can! It goes “Dee-de-dee-deee-dee, Dee-de-dee-deee-dee, Dee-de-dee-deee-dee, Dee-de-dee-deee-dee,…(repeat)… DUM!-di-diddle-dum-di-DEE-di-DUM-di-DA-dum-di-dee-di … Dee-de-dee-deee-dee, Dee-de-dee-deee-dee, Dee-de-dee-deee-dee ….. (and fade)
You should hear me do that on my kazoo – it’s Magic!
Oh, buzz off. And don’t pretend you can really fly, it’s mathematically impossible, apparently.
You cannot Bee serious.
OK. The size 12 clog has just been kicked into my posterior area by He Who Must Be E-bayed, so it is with a cold nose, a glad heart, glaucoma and a clicky-hip that I bid you all a fond goodnight.
They don’t sell kazoos individually any more. It’s a health and safety thing. Hmmmm!
My eternal thanks to e-bay.
E-bay gum?
It’s a northern saying Janes, it means well I never. Or would you believe it.
On here it is a loose conction to a thread.
Connection, or concoction even.
Phew! It’s not where you start it’s when you finish.
A good night and sleep well to all our readers.
G’night.
I’m glad that’s all over, I must say.
Excuse me Girls. just like to take the last word. After all I have to sweep up around here.
Sweep sweep, mutter mutter, students!
That’s all we need. Before you know it we will be targeted by the younger generation.
Have they got a voice?
Can they comment?
Watch this space.
Oh no …. !
And I missed all of this tonight?
Not fair.
Mumble, mumble, mutter, mutter…
Let me do the cleaning up this time, Saul.
Hey! I’m the cleaner upper around here. However to avoid a Euro row I will let you wipe the bar down.
Have they got a voice?
Can they comment?
Watch this space.
………..
They’ve got fashion sense and boundless energy, they’ve got new ideas, they’ve got loans, they have livers yet to be shot through by drink, they’ve got cans of baked beans and tuna and pasta and they can shove them all into the oven and feed themselves; they’ve got long hair, they’ve got to work out how not to be destroyed when a crusty old tutor pulls the rug out from under their feet during a ‘crit’, they aren’t living at home with their parents, they are just young and they will replace us, eventually. But now, let’s hope they join in with their own entertaining plays on words, their own new and excruciating puns .. I look forward to it!
Not more Bloody Puns! There is a limit.
Right you are. ‘pun my word, no more puns. Promise.
Anyway. I’m trying to clean up here, pick your feet up!
Oh! Go on then Students are welcome, only if they say something other than recipes for baked beans.
They will, Oscar, they will.
That’s easy for you to say Felix.
(lifts girlie mules from stridently-patterned floor covering, lifts vodka to mouth, nestles back into florid crimplene stretchy-seat cover and flicks remote to Sexcetera …)
Watch out for the Coo-coo Pigeon Sisters, Saul!
Don’t get into a flap when they turn up at your door. Think about it and you’ll seed what I mean. x
Aha! a crimplene snob, what about the poor buggers who only have bean bags!
”do they feel threatened and offended by sharing a space with the grammatically unwashed?
Even the best bloggers only report from within their own circle of interests, my view is that newspapers will survive as a genre of
Had a big Real Life day today ………… Sorry to have missed everyone.
Back with a vengeance tomorrow ………………
Every one needs a Plumber. However choice is a fine thing.
Right Then! Back to cleaning up, (for the second time) Scrub Wipe clean clean, where’s that brillo pad?
Saul!
Coco Pet!
The Masters of The New World Order are not half getting their knickers in a twist about who can read what on the internet aren’t they!
Gordie’s Government must be as paranoid as fuck to even telling us their thoughts on this!
Scary …………… If everybody on the internet becomes a journalist there will be too may people telling us what to do!
Gordie’s crew would prefer that just a very select few people are the disseminators of pap
Not only have we been threatened by the Government about our activities on the internet ………… but we had a poster called Heather giving us advice about cartels! Strewth! She must be in the know and wanting to keep us out of trouble.
I am a “terrorist blogger”….I am the most wanted right now in Spain …..
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