I have struggled since then with the awareness that my impression of what I write does not correspond with the impressions others have. While I do use some tortured construction, and I seem the compound-complex sentence's best friend, I aim for clarity at all times, both of argument and of language. Apparently, however, because I don't use simple sentences (and believe me, I admire those who can construct pithy sentences that get to the point), my dreams of a career in journalism will never be fulfilled. I have resigned myself, reluctantly, to living two lives - the life in my head where I write clear sentences and paragraphs, and the life of readers who struggle through searching for a thread to get them from the beginning to the end.
With the media's shrill attack on Al Gore's book, The Assault on Reason, I feel I am in good company. The chief complaint against Gore, and his book, is that they both are too smart. The first piece of evidence I will introduce is from Eric Alterman's latest column from The Nation, which should be read in its entirety here:
The Post's Outlook section published . . . another assault on Gore, this one by Weekly Standard editor Andrew Ferguson. Astonishingly, Ferguson began his screed by asserting, "You can't really blame Al Gore for not using footnotes in his new book.... It's a sprawling, untidy blast of indignation, and annotating it with footnotes would be like trying to slip rubber bands around a puddle of quicksilver." I say "astonishingly" because, as the annoyed Mr. Milbank pointed out in the same newspaper, the book contains 273 source notes spread across twenty pages right there in the back. So common was the anti-Gore animus that it apparently blinded everyone involved with the piece, thereby allowing Ferguson to humiliate himself as well as the newspaper with an accusation so amateurish it dissipated with a mere glance at the book.
In an attempt to complain about Gore's erudition, Ferguson tried to assert that Gore did not source his work. Happily for the rest of us, Ferguson only embarrassed himself by missing the fact that Gore used endnotes rather than footnotes, which most readers feel are disruptive and break the flow of argument.
Another example, from today's Daily Howler, is the first entry, entitled "Millbank Bollixed Again", captured in full:
Once again, Dana Milbank ran into too many big words when he watched a Big Dem give a speech. White House hopeful Bill Richardson was giving the speech—with subsequent Q-and-A’s, no less!—and poor Milbank found himself stuck in the audience:
MILBANK (6/28/07): Leading a detailed, hour-long discussion about Iran in which words such as "fissionable" and "Abrahamic dialogue" were invoked, Richardson demonstrated why he is running a distant fifth for the Democratic presidential nomination, and why, in a CNN poll released this week, 54 percent of respondents had either never heard of him or had no opinion of him.
Poor Milbank! The discussion in question had lasted an hour, and several large words had been said! Later in his confessional “sketch,” Milbank helps us see how brutal it was. The speech “occupied nine single-spaced pages and had the warning ‘3,325 words’ at the top of the text,” he explains. He details the brutality:
MILBANK: When an attempt at a joke fell flat, the candidate added: "That's supposed to be funny." He could be heard to utter phrases such as "I revert back to the Nunn-Lugar initiatives, which have been underfunded," and "the IAEA naturally has the lead on nuclear issues," and "there are at least six major reasons why Iran is strategically significant." When he finally uttered the words "in conclusion," Richardson chuckled, perhaps realizing the challenge he had presented to his listeners.
Imagine being asked to sit through such statements as “the IAEA naturally has the lead on nuclear issues!” And imagine how it feels to be told that there are six reasons for something!
For years, the Post has reveled in its growing know-nothing culture, with various pundits rushing to complain about the long speeches they’re forced to endure—speeches which may contain long words and statements of stunning complexity. In August 2000, David Broder said he almost fell asleep during Gore’s convention speech—a speech which plainly rocked the election, sending Gore soaring in the polls. In recent years, Broder has continued to grouse when Hillary Clinton makes him listen to detailed discussions, and Milbank recently embarrassed himself with the utterly ludicrous “Washington Sketch” about all the big, long words Gore used when he discussed his new book. The sheer stupidity of such presentations doesn’t faze these toasted Posties, who express the type of Versailles culture often found among powdered elites.
Tomorrow, we’ll offer final thoughts on that op-ed column in which the Post asked someone who counts on her fingers to expound about global warming. Increasingly, the Post seems incapable of being embarrassed. But life has always been like that inside the world’s great pleasure domes.
Milbank is one who chided Gore and his book because Gore manages "to annoy just about everyone" because "he's the smartest guy in the room". This complaint would be silly if it weren't partly to blame for the past six and a half years; the press's relentless attacks upon Gore's intelligence - not that he didn't have any, but that he seemed to have too much - are part of the reason George Bush managed to eke out enough votes to force the Florida showdown (read The Daily Howler if you don't believe me; I'm not saying it's the only reason, but it sure is part of it).
If it were just these examples, I would shake my head in wonder. It isn't. Charles Krauthammer spent months touting George Bush as the next Winston Churchill, including our dysphasic Presiden't attempts at giving speeches. The press insists on writing about issues such as evolution and global warming as if there were two sides to the story (it's all about fairness and balance after all . . .) when no such other sides exist. The tortured and overused construction, "There are those who say . . .", is a lazy journalist's fallback when he or she would like to insinuate controversy where none exists. Chris Matthews spends hours on end gushing about Fred Thompson's looks, Mitt Romney's shoulders, and complaining about Hillary Clinton's voice, and we are led to believe he is a serious person doing serious journalism.
The impression I am left with after this cursory survey is that it is our media whose reading level hovers at around age 11. They have difficulty understanding dense issues of substance, or they are so entrenched in the superficiality of our television/glamor/tabloid culture that they can't escape discussing our Presidential candidates as if they were celebrities on the red carpet, or through some weird paternalism they assume most Americans (among the best educated people on the planet) are so stupid that discussions should avoid complexity, confusing substance, and nuance - whatever the reason, I am glad I didn't get that job at the Greensville County Paper. Why would I want to work with people who thought their audience was that stupid?
