Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Fact or Fiction?
True Enough written by Farhad Manjoo explores the current crisis that faces media of the technology age: Fact vs. Fiction. In an age where trusted news involves four aging cronies who hate life along with old men who tout their own ideals (and books), many can see that fiction is easy to confuse with fact.
In chapter four Manjoo mentions an incident in which the child’s game of telephone snowballed out of control. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. published an article in Rolling Stone, alleging proof that President Bush stole the 2004 Election. This came from his knowledge of Steven Freeman’s articles on the subject, who in turn took his knowledge of the subject from Kathy Dopp whose information and research was faulty.
This silly game of telephone would be hilarious, if people could take the information they’re being given as “opinion” not “fact.” One recent instance of this “telephone effect” is the fiasco that was the 2008 Presidential election. Rumors ran wild about President Obama and his heritage, religion, and true place of birth. These gossipy tidbits spread by mouth, email and numerous social networks. Some wrote them off as untruths, but a dangerously high amount of people believed each rumor without a single question or thought.
The sources for these rumors? Unknown. The tangible data to support these facts? Nonexistent. In short, there is no proof to substantiate these claims, yet people give them credence. In school they teach us to never use Wikipedia and to always provide a source for our information. Why then, is it so hard for people today to demand sources from their news providers?
In all honesty I believe the answer more often than not is laziness. I’ll admit I’ve had a moment where I’m far too lazy to really research something and instead choose to quickly check Wikipedia for information. I would not, however, use this information to write a column or purport this knowledge as fact. The problem is, in a world where every second is worth money, easy avenues of information are taken when they shouldn’t be. It only takes one lazy and irresponsible person to misinform millions. Then those millions in turn misinform another million. It’s a spiraling snowball effect of disaster.
I found the Dr. Fox trick hilarious until I remembered my own personal experience in getting duped. My freshman year of college I had a professor for Humanities whose ideals of the world neared those of a paranoid psychotic. But he was interesting and some of the facts he told us were amazing. Like how Coke-cola created the red and white santa that we all know and love. This is untrue of course. After I found the cracks in this “fact” I began to unearth other “fact’s” he had taught us. All of them fictional ravings of what I now realize was a madman. I was horrified. I had hung onto every word he said because he was so dynamic, so eccentric and excited about the topics. I realize now that his enthusiasm and energy drew me in and made me complacent that he would only speak so passionately about things he knew incredibly well. That he was an “expert” in Humanities. I felt dirty when I came to realize he was, quite honestly, full of it. I couldn’t believe I had bought into his hype simply because of how earnestly he delivered it. I can identify with the victims—I mean test groups—of the Dr. Fox trial. I now obsess about checking facts and cross referencing sources to ensure that I’m not buying into anything someone is selling.
In chapter four Manjoo mentions an incident in which the child’s game of telephone snowballed out of control. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. published an article in Rolling Stone, alleging proof that President Bush stole the 2004 Election. This came from his knowledge of Steven Freeman’s articles on the subject, who in turn took his knowledge of the subject from Kathy Dopp whose information and research was faulty.
This silly game of telephone would be hilarious, if people could take the information they’re being given as “opinion” not “fact.” One recent instance of this “telephone effect” is the fiasco that was the 2008 Presidential election. Rumors ran wild about President Obama and his heritage, religion, and true place of birth. These gossipy tidbits spread by mouth, email and numerous social networks. Some wrote them off as untruths, but a dangerously high amount of people believed each rumor without a single question or thought.
The sources for these rumors? Unknown. The tangible data to support these facts? Nonexistent. In short, there is no proof to substantiate these claims, yet people give them credence. In school they teach us to never use Wikipedia and to always provide a source for our information. Why then, is it so hard for people today to demand sources from their news providers?
In all honesty I believe the answer more often than not is laziness. I’ll admit I’ve had a moment where I’m far too lazy to really research something and instead choose to quickly check Wikipedia for information. I would not, however, use this information to write a column or purport this knowledge as fact. The problem is, in a world where every second is worth money, easy avenues of information are taken when they shouldn’t be. It only takes one lazy and irresponsible person to misinform millions. Then those millions in turn misinform another million. It’s a spiraling snowball effect of disaster.
I found the Dr. Fox trick hilarious until I remembered my own personal experience in getting duped. My freshman year of college I had a professor for Humanities whose ideals of the world neared those of a paranoid psychotic. But he was interesting and some of the facts he told us were amazing. Like how Coke-cola created the red and white santa that we all know and love. This is untrue of course. After I found the cracks in this “fact” I began to unearth other “fact’s” he had taught us. All of them fictional ravings of what I now realize was a madman. I was horrified. I had hung onto every word he said because he was so dynamic, so eccentric and excited about the topics. I realize now that his enthusiasm and energy drew me in and made me complacent that he would only speak so passionately about things he knew incredibly well. That he was an “expert” in Humanities. I felt dirty when I came to realize he was, quite honestly, full of it. I couldn’t believe I had bought into his hype simply because of how earnestly he delivered it. I can identify with the victims—I mean test groups—of the Dr. Fox trial. I now obsess about checking facts and cross referencing sources to ensure that I’m not buying into anything someone is selling.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
BUDGETS ARE THE HEART OF GOVERNMENT
Budgets are the heart of government. I honestly never thought I’d hear someone compare a budget to a heart in my lifetime. Preston Trigg proves me wrong and helped me understand budgets a little better and how they can help me write a story.
First rule of budgets? They are the root of all good—and evil. As many reporters will tell you, “follow the money” and you can snag a fantastic story. Every government agency must have a budget and in Florida all three levels of government are open to public eyes.
A bit of helpful information contained in budgets is the number of employees and information about the organization as a whole. Budgets are usually approved in late summer or earlier.
There are two and sometimes three basic portions of a budget: revenue, expenses, and debt.
Every budget contains an executive summary, and as reporters we have to be incredibly leery of these. Typically they are written in a way that sheds a light on all the fantastic points of the budget and amazingly skip all the questionable ones. Because of this a good reporter will completely bypass this summary and read the actual budget instead.
Budget officials are excellent sources for a reporter. They adhere to and are bound by their own set of ethical standards and they will typically tip you off if there’s something fishy occurring.
There are three types of expenses: personal, capital, and operating. A personal expense is the money associated with people like salaries and benefits. A capital expense is a onetime purchase of anything over one thousand dollars. An operating expense is usually reoccurring like utilities or leases.
Revenue is money coming into the government, typically by way of taxes, user fees or fines.
When you really look into a budget you can find a great story about how the community will be affected and whether the budget will be beneficial or detrimental.
First rule of budgets? They are the root of all good—and evil. As many reporters will tell you, “follow the money” and you can snag a fantastic story. Every government agency must have a budget and in Florida all three levels of government are open to public eyes.
A bit of helpful information contained in budgets is the number of employees and information about the organization as a whole. Budgets are usually approved in late summer or earlier.
There are two and sometimes three basic portions of a budget: revenue, expenses, and debt.
Every budget contains an executive summary, and as reporters we have to be incredibly leery of these. Typically they are written in a way that sheds a light on all the fantastic points of the budget and amazingly skip all the questionable ones. Because of this a good reporter will completely bypass this summary and read the actual budget instead.
Budget officials are excellent sources for a reporter. They adhere to and are bound by their own set of ethical standards and they will typically tip you off if there’s something fishy occurring.
There are three types of expenses: personal, capital, and operating. A personal expense is the money associated with people like salaries and benefits. A capital expense is a onetime purchase of anything over one thousand dollars. An operating expense is usually reoccurring like utilities or leases.
Revenue is money coming into the government, typically by way of taxes, user fees or fines.
When you really look into a budget you can find a great story about how the community will be affected and whether the budget will be beneficial or detrimental.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
DOG TETHERING: TO ALLOW OR NOT TO ALLOW?
It was on the elevator ride up to the meeting that I caught sight of the “animal advocate” t-shirts and a commissioner from a neighboring county. The moment they told me “this will be a great thing to cover,” I knew I was in for a lengthy back and forth debate. I never really allowed myself to think that someone would be FOR animal tethering, much less show up and defend that thought!
When the podium was opened for the public to speak on the issue, the night began with the usual slightly out-of-it older gentleman who chose to verbally shake a finger at the subcommittee and basically just waste time. Another woman showed pictures of tethered dogs and explained that the people who do this won’t stop just because an ordinance is changed. A few more pleas were made on both sides, and then it was up to council members to duke it out.
It’s amazing how such nice looking older ladies can say something so sweetly, but when you stop and realize what they said, it’s no more than a verbal slap to the face! You had the argument that tethering is a viable means to hold a dog and that just because someone can’t afford a fence they shouldn’t have to give up their dog. The retort being, if you can’t afford a fence, you don’t need to have a dog.
By far the best argument (a critical thinking professor would be proud) was that of a gentleman serving on the committee. It was his prerogative that some animals should be tethered because if forced to come inside they might be violent to humans occupying the house.
…………
Yes, that’s right. Let’s keep a violent animal tethered outside so it doesn’t harm anyone inside the owner’s house, let’s not worry about the chances of the animal getting loose and attacking someone in the neighborhood. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he said his argument and was done, but the fact was that another council member addressed his faulty logic, and he tried to defend it!
It’s clear that with a person like him (dressed oh so professionally in a black t-shirt and ponytail) these ordinances will never be changed and animal cruelty will continue in Hillsborough County.
TEMPLE TERRACE CITY COUNCIL MEETING
I had the recent privilege of attending the City of Temple Terrace’s city council meeting.
The meeting began with a declaration of November being proclaimed as “National Hospice and Palliative Care Month.”
The first true order of business was a continuation from a previous meeting on October 19, 2010. It involved amending the text for the public school student generation rate rule. Commission member Joe Bell stood and gave a basic overview of the situation before handing over the floor to Lorraine Duffy-Suarez, Hillsborough County School Growth Management Manager. She stressed that fact that if the council did not vote in favor of the changes she proposed, changes the three other forms of government in Hillsborough County had already approved, they would not be in compliance with Florida law. Duffy-Suarez explained her role as liaison between each level of government on behalf of the school board. The issue, as she addressed it, is that every two years the generation rate is reviewed, and the four governments each convene four times a year to meet an examine these numbers. But with the recent United States census information, the generation rate will change so she would like to bump up the date in which they review the generation rate to now, rather than wait another two years. The city council members simply chose to pass a motion to pass the amendment on to the Department of Community Affairs.
The second order of business was a very detailed and incredibly boring presentation on a Temple Terrace “downtown community redevelopment”. Imagine my surprise discovering 56th Street to Bullard Parkway was considered “downtown” Temple Terrace. I’ve always just known it as “that place you don’t go to alone at night.” But I honestly felt for the poor guy who had to explain a PowerPoint on the redevelopment. The new plan would involve resident buildings and retail buildings and the Temple Terrace codes are so ridiculously strict that the man had to ask for at least fifteen exemptions to allow the buildings to be built. Even Council member Mark A. Connolly addressed that fact that rather than make builders ask for numerous exceptions and possibly lose their business, the council should look at changing the ordinances. He also took issue with the light posts for the new development because they weren’t EXACTLY like others on 56th Street. It really helped me to understand why Temple Terrace is…well…Temple Terrace. The council members seem to be really out of touch with topics that matter.
Temple Terrace city council meeting agenda can be found here
Thursday, October 28, 2010
TRAFFIC COURT...NOT AT ALL AS SEEN ON TV
Traffic court was quite possibly the most boring experience of my life. Lucky for me, boring can also be educational.
First of all, I never want to end up at traffic court in Hillsborough County. Floriland office park is really not a “safe” area. When the security guards have to scream at a man that his friend cannot park in front of the entry doors and must move his car, you know you’re not in the best place.
Any place that has not one, but four signs reminding people that their children must remain with them at all times, is not a place I’d like to be.
Upon entry to the courtroom, the police officer advises me that tomorrow would be a better day to come and I instantly know this will be a few hours of my life, wasted. I vaguely wonder if I should just bail and come back tomorrow, but no, I decide to stick through to the end.
As with all government agencies, the “event” started fifteen minutes late and under the threat of silence or expulsion. The judge issues an explanation of three possible pleas: not guilty, guilty, no contest. Then like cattle to a slaughter the proceedings being with a line of people with last names beginning with A, B, or C.
The people scatter forward in a race to be first in line, even though the judge calls you out in alphabetical order. The names are read too quickly to be sure of catching correctly and the people are so quiet in their responses I’m at a loss to catch their pleas.
D,E,F…
In an attempt to write down everyone’s name I inevitably miss out on a few, and some of the names were clearly original and the spelling of them a complete mystery.
G,H,I…
And don’t try to catch people on the way out because you’re not allowed to speak to them or you’ll be kicked out, and they certainly aren’t going to wait to get as far away as possible.
J,K,L…
At the very end, only if everyone else has gone and there is still time left on the clock, the judge will see people in shorts. Shorts are not permitted in the courtroom apparently. Neither are bare midriffs.
M,N,O…
Gum and newspapers are also prohibited.
…..and so on and so forth.
In layman terms, I never want to go to traffic court or EVER have to cover it for a story.
First of all, I never want to end up at traffic court in Hillsborough County. Floriland office park is really not a “safe” area. When the security guards have to scream at a man that his friend cannot park in front of the entry doors and must move his car, you know you’re not in the best place.
Any place that has not one, but four signs reminding people that their children must remain with them at all times, is not a place I’d like to be.
Upon entry to the courtroom, the police officer advises me that tomorrow would be a better day to come and I instantly know this will be a few hours of my life, wasted. I vaguely wonder if I should just bail and come back tomorrow, but no, I decide to stick through to the end.
As with all government agencies, the “event” started fifteen minutes late and under the threat of silence or expulsion. The judge issues an explanation of three possible pleas: not guilty, guilty, no contest. Then like cattle to a slaughter the proceedings being with a line of people with last names beginning with A, B, or C.
The people scatter forward in a race to be first in line, even though the judge calls you out in alphabetical order. The names are read too quickly to be sure of catching correctly and the people are so quiet in their responses I’m at a loss to catch their pleas.
D,E,F…
In an attempt to write down everyone’s name I inevitably miss out on a few, and some of the names were clearly original and the spelling of them a complete mystery.
G,H,I…
And don’t try to catch people on the way out because you’re not allowed to speak to them or you’ll be kicked out, and they certainly aren’t going to wait to get as far away as possible.
J,K,L…
At the very end, only if everyone else has gone and there is still time left on the clock, the judge will see people in shorts. Shorts are not permitted in the courtroom apparently. Neither are bare midriffs.
M,N,O…
Gum and newspapers are also prohibited.
…..and so on and so forth.
In layman terms, I never want to go to traffic court or EVER have to cover it for a story.
A NAME, A FACE, A LAUGH AND A SMILE
Tuesday I had the wonderful luxury of touring the Hillsborough County Medical Examiner’s office. My night after the tour was filled with candy self medication and horrible nightmares of empty brain cavities.
Cue shiver up spine.
I was informed of the office’s two main priorities: to investigate suspicious and unusual deaths, and to dispose of unclaimed bodies. They use autopsy as an investigative tool (not as a gross out factor like many Hollywood productions).
The trip, while informative, was a total disaster for me. One of our first stops was the ominous file room where we were informed that each file was color coded in accordance to cause of death. If you’ve never known anyone to die an unexpected death, then you might have listened to the information given to you and walked on to the next part of the tour. If you have, you find yourself wondering if the loved ones you buried were also reduced to pieces of paper with a yellow and black sticker tacked to them. Then these thoughts spiral to the realization that each and every file was once a human being with a smile, a laugh and a life however they chose to live it. To simply color code death seems to take an air of respect from it.
Black- Traffic Accident
White- Non Traffic Accident
Yellow- Suicide
Red- Homicide
Still reeling from this depressing observation we were taken through the labs, a “safe” zone for the squeamish, unless you caught sight of the vials of blood on the way out the door.
But the WORST part of the trip, the part that makes me forget about anything informative I learned, was the autopsy room. When offered the chance to either go in or stay behind I assumed Shari Armstrong, who had previously stated “I will NOT be viewing any autopsies,” would have my back and stay behind. Oh no, I was forced out of my little shell of comfort and safety to accompany her into the autopsy room along with the rest of the class. Upon my first steps into the room I was really proud, ready to give myself a pat on the back. Then I saw the empty brain cavity of some poor human being, and I’ve never been so thankful that I forgot to each lunch. The rest of my time in the autopsy room was spent looking at any surface that didn’t have a body on it and trying to avoid vomiting.
It was only when I was out of the room and my brain function had returned that I realized this happens to all suspicious or unusual cases. In 2006 I buried a close friend who died in a traffic collision and it calms me to know her body was never put through an autopsy before she was cremated. In 2008 a best friend of mine died of causes that had to be investigated and the knowledge that at some point, his body was on a metal slab like that utterly breaks my heart. Now when the empty brain cavity flashes in my head it has a name, a face, a laugh and a smile.
Cue shiver up spine.
I was informed of the office’s two main priorities: to investigate suspicious and unusual deaths, and to dispose of unclaimed bodies. They use autopsy as an investigative tool (not as a gross out factor like many Hollywood productions).
The trip, while informative, was a total disaster for me. One of our first stops was the ominous file room where we were informed that each file was color coded in accordance to cause of death. If you’ve never known anyone to die an unexpected death, then you might have listened to the information given to you and walked on to the next part of the tour. If you have, you find yourself wondering if the loved ones you buried were also reduced to pieces of paper with a yellow and black sticker tacked to them. Then these thoughts spiral to the realization that each and every file was once a human being with a smile, a laugh and a life however they chose to live it. To simply color code death seems to take an air of respect from it.
Black- Traffic Accident
White- Non Traffic Accident
Yellow- Suicide
Red- Homicide
Still reeling from this depressing observation we were taken through the labs, a “safe” zone for the squeamish, unless you caught sight of the vials of blood on the way out the door.
But the WORST part of the trip, the part that makes me forget about anything informative I learned, was the autopsy room. When offered the chance to either go in or stay behind I assumed Shari Armstrong, who had previously stated “I will NOT be viewing any autopsies,” would have my back and stay behind. Oh no, I was forced out of my little shell of comfort and safety to accompany her into the autopsy room along with the rest of the class. Upon my first steps into the room I was really proud, ready to give myself a pat on the back. Then I saw the empty brain cavity of some poor human being, and I’ve never been so thankful that I forgot to each lunch. The rest of my time in the autopsy room was spent looking at any surface that didn’t have a body on it and trying to avoid vomiting.
It was only when I was out of the room and my brain function had returned that I realized this happens to all suspicious or unusual cases. In 2006 I buried a close friend who died in a traffic collision and it calms me to know her body was never put through an autopsy before she was cremated. In 2008 a best friend of mine died of causes that had to be investigated and the knowledge that at some point, his body was on a metal slab like that utterly breaks my heart. Now when the empty brain cavity flashes in my head it has a name, a face, a laugh and a smile.
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