Since I was old enough to pick up a pencil and write something down, words have never failed me. They are a constant solace, a light in the darkness and an infinite joy. I could not live my life the way I do without them. But just lately I've been forced to acknowledge that for many in the world out there, words no longer have any currency. There are so many people out there writing so much, being paid so little, just to fill the blank space between revenue opportunities on company websites. And who is listening? Who will take the time to craft their words carefully, and who will take the time to read them and consider the weight of their meaning, when everyone knows you can get your message across on Twitter in 40 characters or less?
There have been many words written and spoken about the demise of the newspaper industry in this country. Stirring words. Heartfelt words. But words that mean nothing to the men who would rather look at numbers on a page than the strange and foreign language that is human sentiment.
I will not be turning my back on words, just as they have never forsaken me. This blog will be my therapy, just as it has always been, and hopefully soon I will have new ways of making words with my pernickety press venture.
In the meantime, I have a few choice words I could share with Fairfax management, if I had the inclination. If nothing else, 21 years of journalism has educated me on the finer points of swearing like a fucking trooper.
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