|This is part of a text that I wrote to a Facebook acquaintance.|| |
The style of the New York Times was so competent and so consequent that it was almost exciting to pay attention to the flow of logic within a story.
When I say "consequent," I mean that if an article once addressed a particular picayune matter in a cursory way, it would *always* return to it in more detail. It was that way every time, trustworthy.
It felt good. I could trust a New York Times article, as a piece of reading material, because I knew that somebody had written it with respect for the competent reader.
I used to be able to be able to recognize a New York Times article half-way through a syndicated re-print The "style" (or competence) was that distinctive.
Then something happened. There was the invasion of Iraq in 2003. There was the financial decline of print journalism. I don't know what it was.
But it's gone now. The New York Times is not fun anymore. It's worth following because it's important, but it's not usually worth buying. It's not always worth reading. I don't find much left that is.