Although it wasn’t on my calendar, I’m pretty sure Monday was National Juxtaposition Day.
I often wonder how what makes it into the headlines gets there, and on Monday I think I found out. Partially found out, I’m sorry to say, but it’s a start.
On the Media is one of NPR’s more obnoxious programs, but I listen. I think it’s an interesting idea, and I do like the stories they fish out from around the world about how news becomes news, or doesn’t. Unfortunately the two hosts are hard to take for an entire hour – they’re so caught up in their own self-congratulatory brand of cleverness that they somehow wink over the radio, which takes talent, I think. I tune in and out depending on what’s going on in my house.
And what was going on in my house on Monday was Brent Payne, the search engine maestro for Tribune Interactive, as in Chicago. Search engine optimization, or SEO to the cool kids, is all the rage. Job descriptions are littered with the term and, not surprisingly, so are resumes. There is a certificate factory in Portland that specializes in SEO training. There are conferences on SEO, there are SEO columns in trade publications. If there isn’t already, there will soon be a monthly magazine that is all about SEO, and there will be an awards program for SEO experts.
I could hardly listen to Mr. Payne, who came across as a pompous ass of the most insufferable sort, but I couldn’t stop listening either. Headlines written with intelligence and linguistic dexterity, he explained, are no longer the goal. That’s because it’s important to keep the searching function in mind when writing a headline, which, in his world, is nothing more than a tool for driving traffic (that means getting people to click on your Web site, and the more traffic you attract the more you can charge for advertising). He illustrated the complexity of his job by saying that if you’re writing a headline about Michael Jackson, check the alliterations etc. at the door and just be sure to include the terms “Michael Jackson” and “dead.” And if you don’t, he’ll change it for you, because that’s his job. In fact, he can change the stories too. He’s been given that much authority. This guy is so ahead of the curve he didn’t even use the word “newspaper.” He used the terms “Web property” and “destination” instead.
Convincing me further that it was a juxtaposition holiday was the fact that Brent Payne, much like the social media experts I’ve encountered, took a good shot at the “elitism” of what they call traditional journalism. What made the news used to be determined by a select few. Now it’s more of a conversation. The playing field, so they say, has been leveled. Which is funny, because each and every one of these self-appointed czars of the next big thing I have ever met, heard or read has come across as completely condescending. Payne, for example, posted a Tweet recently about how even though there isn’t a single condo in his building that cost less than 400 K, he can still hear neighbors arguing. How cool of him, how down with the masses he is. I guess I’m stuck up, but I’d trust the news more if I thought it was influenced only by “media elites” rather than people like Brent Payne, whose resume reads like a marketing textbook glossary, including the part about his degree from a college I’ve never heard of in Utah, where he majored in technical sales. That’s right: a person who majored in technical sales, whatever the hell that means, is playing a role in what news goes where. Given that, it’s not quite as surprising that news about dead celebrities and reality television holds its own against news about our adventures in Iraq and Afghanistan.
At the other end of the juxtaposition, and toward the end of the holiday, I received a telephone call from a woman with a very smoky voice. She wanted to know if I’d be interested in being part of a focus group that goes around town evaluating grocery stores. I like grocery stores, so I said sure. She asked me a few non-invasive questions as I pulled her company up on the Internet to make sure it wasn’t a bogus call. Then we got to the employment part. She asked if anyone in my household – including me – had ever worked in marketing or PR. I told her I had and that I still do. She said she was sorry but that my employment history disqualified me. “I’d love to work with you, but we don’t make exceptions,” she said. She apologized for wasting my time and we said our goodbyes. I shut the computer down for the day, figuring I’d quit while I was ahead.
I often wonder how what makes it into the headlines gets there, and on Monday I think I found out. Partially found out, I’m sorry to say, but it’s a start.
On the Media is one of NPR’s more obnoxious programs, but I listen. I think it’s an interesting idea, and I do like the stories they fish out from around the world about how news becomes news, or doesn’t. Unfortunately the two hosts are hard to take for an entire hour – they’re so caught up in their own self-congratulatory brand of cleverness that they somehow wink over the radio, which takes talent, I think. I tune in and out depending on what’s going on in my house.
And what was going on in my house on Monday was Brent Payne, the search engine maestro for Tribune Interactive, as in Chicago. Search engine optimization, or SEO to the cool kids, is all the rage. Job descriptions are littered with the term and, not surprisingly, so are resumes. There is a certificate factory in Portland that specializes in SEO training. There are conferences on SEO, there are SEO columns in trade publications. If there isn’t already, there will soon be a monthly magazine that is all about SEO, and there will be an awards program for SEO experts.
I could hardly listen to Mr. Payne, who came across as a pompous ass of the most insufferable sort, but I couldn’t stop listening either. Headlines written with intelligence and linguistic dexterity, he explained, are no longer the goal. That’s because it’s important to keep the searching function in mind when writing a headline, which, in his world, is nothing more than a tool for driving traffic (that means getting people to click on your Web site, and the more traffic you attract the more you can charge for advertising). He illustrated the complexity of his job by saying that if you’re writing a headline about Michael Jackson, check the alliterations etc. at the door and just be sure to include the terms “Michael Jackson” and “dead.” And if you don’t, he’ll change it for you, because that’s his job. In fact, he can change the stories too. He’s been given that much authority. This guy is so ahead of the curve he didn’t even use the word “newspaper.” He used the terms “Web property” and “destination” instead.
Convincing me further that it was a juxtaposition holiday was the fact that Brent Payne, much like the social media experts I’ve encountered, took a good shot at the “elitism” of what they call traditional journalism. What made the news used to be determined by a select few. Now it’s more of a conversation. The playing field, so they say, has been leveled. Which is funny, because each and every one of these self-appointed czars of the next big thing I have ever met, heard or read has come across as completely condescending. Payne, for example, posted a Tweet recently about how even though there isn’t a single condo in his building that cost less than 400 K, he can still hear neighbors arguing. How cool of him, how down with the masses he is. I guess I’m stuck up, but I’d trust the news more if I thought it was influenced only by “media elites” rather than people like Brent Payne, whose resume reads like a marketing textbook glossary, including the part about his degree from a college I’ve never heard of in Utah, where he majored in technical sales. That’s right: a person who majored in technical sales, whatever the hell that means, is playing a role in what news goes where. Given that, it’s not quite as surprising that news about dead celebrities and reality television holds its own against news about our adventures in Iraq and Afghanistan.
At the other end of the juxtaposition, and toward the end of the holiday, I received a telephone call from a woman with a very smoky voice. She wanted to know if I’d be interested in being part of a focus group that goes around town evaluating grocery stores. I like grocery stores, so I said sure. She asked me a few non-invasive questions as I pulled her company up on the Internet to make sure it wasn’t a bogus call. Then we got to the employment part. She asked if anyone in my household – including me – had ever worked in marketing or PR. I told her I had and that I still do. She said she was sorry but that my employment history disqualified me. “I’d love to work with you, but we don’t make exceptions,” she said. She apologized for wasting my time and we said our goodbyes. I shut the computer down for the day, figuring I’d quit while I was ahead.
