Friday, 17 May 2013
Monday, 1 April 2013
Monday, 25 March 2013
“Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed: all else is public relations.”
– George Orwell
Can real journalism work in a school setting? No, it can’t – and this belief of mine was reaffirmed last week when I caused a bit of a stir with the publication of the “school” newspaper, The Student’s Standard.
The issues were printed, and I promptly when on a school camp, cutting myself off from the action. When I got back things weren’t in a good way. The school wasn’t amused, and all the issues had been collected up so that no one else would read this “defamatory” publication.
There were claims of slander, that I took someone out of context, that articles shouldn’t have been published. But then I made my counter claim: It’s a free press.
But this is the heart of the problem: any high school newspaper doesn’t really have a free press. The school, however disconnected, will always have some say it what goes to press. The editor – in this case me – is a figurehead that is still answering to higher forces. Perhaps like the “real” media, I wouldn’t know.
Perhaps this is my introduction to the real world. The real world where we may well say that “Oh, the free press is free”, but where in fact the press really is locked up.
“Comment is free,” wrote CP Scott in a Guardian editorial in 1921, “but facts are sacred.”
But, in the case of the little Student’s Standard, this is no longer the case. Anonymous publication is out, and every editorial must be run past the school. Every quote, too, must have accompanying written permission prior to publication. A student newspaper run by students is in fact controlled by adults.
The facts we printed – the ones which were faithfully checked – were considered sacred by us, but unholy by the school. Is it a fear of the truth? A fear that runs to the heart of our society? Yes, it probably is. The school doesn’t want the world to know anything bad about itself. It’s own reputation is sacred and shouldn’t be messed with – a dictum that is being forced upon me.
It is for this reason that high school journalism doesn’t work. Comment is free, and facts that are unholy are “forgotten” about.
As the editor, of course it was me who copped most of it. Now, my job, essentially, is to print public relations – stuff that the school would like the world to know about. Of course, they cover this up and say that it’s to prevent libel and lawsuits and things that I wouldn’t be able to manage, but really it’s obvious – the truth has become a scary business.
The student body is furious, too. We want to have our own voice, not one that is carefully checked and taught fine elocution and manners.
The word “journalism” will now have to be used in the lightest sense. Yes, it will be reporting – of the facts that we’re allowed to report on. And it’s because school-supported journalism is rubbish – they’ll teach us the skills and turn around and say, but no, you’re not allowed to use them.
But we aren’t deterred. We’ll be fearless – we’ll be free and open with everything. Because journalism is harsh – we’ve been told that by the school – but it’s effective in making the situation better in the long run. After all, how can you fix a problem if you refuse to believe it’s there?
N.B. The original version of this post was removed after I was kindly informed by Mr Michael Hohne that I didn’t actually mention the controversy as referred to in the original title “Journalistic Controversy”. This version, written with my brain switched on and with a new title, may actually make some more sense.
N.B. (again). You can read the issue that landed it’s editor and to a lesser extent his editor’s typewriter in hot water here: http://issuu.com/thestudentsstandard/docs/the_students_standard_7
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Three weeks isn’t a long time, really. Although my blog posting almost completely ceased for all of International Typewriter Appreciation Month, I was still tapping away on Olivettis, Hermes, Imperials, Brothers and Olympias. But three weeks does feel like a long time when you look back on it, even though when you were there it was speeding past and outrageous and surely illegal speed.
My gallant plan to write and edit and research and hand in a school assignment is still in the works. A descriptive essay is coming up, and I think that it is the sort of assignment that you can still do based only on books and stuff that’s in print. Other assignments can’t be converted back to the typewriter and library days that I’m searching for. Things that involve science and technical subjects and modern (last ten years, say) history just can’t be purely based on print resources. So when I can finally free myself of the totalitarian reign of the internet on current information, I’ll let you know.
My Olivetti Lettera 32 has been coming with me every Friday to school, now. It’s all for Media and Communications which looks after The Student’s Standard, the school newspaper.
Still proudly in print, but venturing into the murky waters of digital, we aim to provide a newspaper first and the digital business second. As Editor-in-Chief – a job that requires a level head and a secret stash of liquorice all-sorts – I sadly don’t spend as much time at the Lettera 32 as I would like to, as I’m always up around answering question and helping with articles. But most of my articles start out typewritten, that’s for sure.
(The “multi-media” chaps are going to interview their editor, me, about the whole enterprise, which I’ll post here when it happens)
You’re most welcome to look at some of last year’s early Student’s Standard work – complete with errors and awfully constructed sentences – here. And, just by the way, not trying to self promote any causes at all, but we’re on Facebook here and Twitter as @thesstandard.
My Corona 3 case is coming along well. I’ll be gluing it together this week. A trip to Robert Messenger’s (who blogs at oztypewriter.blogspot.com) has yielded some old typewriter case bits which will provide the hinges and perhaps the fittings. Robert was kind enough to hand over case bits and pieces for the project. The case won’t be too useful, though – it’s going to way three tonnes – but it will look nice, at least, that’s the plan.
And so I come to the end of my first post in three weeks, a post in which I proven that I will blatantly try and the get the 100 likes on Facebook we’re desperate for by the end of next week at The Student’s Standard; a post in which I have thrown being selfless to the wind; and a post in which I have proven that the internet will have to work against me a bit harder to get me off this soap box of a blog.
Wednesday, 6 February 2013
There was only one thing to think about when we were told about Woodwork projects: typewriters
School started and so with it all the subjects that I’ll be subjected to (pun not intended) this term. Woodwork is one of them, and the project is one which we get to design. The sky, and time, is our limit. Fairly quickly the idea of a typewriter case appeared, and the Corona 3 was a prime candidate for a nice new box.
Half the portability of a portable typewriter is the case, and my Corona 3 (gift of Robert Messenger, but currently not working), I think, deserves one. And so, sketches ensued:
The case at the top is the only really important thing on the piece of paper. The typewriter with the arrow is trying to explain the idea of a folding typewriter, and the “Corona” down the bottom was just filling in time before lunch.
But this is the point where I ask for assistance from the greater Typosphere. I would be really grateful if anyone could email me photos of an original Corona 3 case, and, I’d be very thankful if anyone would take the time to make some measurements. If you would be so kind, please get in touch via email: jasper [at] grapevine [dot] net [dot] au , or leave a comment below.