Let’s give those headline writers some love

I’m starting a little something new at The Memphis Blog. Let’s see if it catches on.

This person apparently does not understand what ‘news’ is

this person apparently does not understand what "news" is

Screencapped from the comments of this story. You didn’t click, did you? What if I said it was a story about a BDSM-fetish B&B in Collierville? Clickadoodledoooo!

Anyway, I’m sure Hillybob looks forward to the days when news outlets will be capable of reporting on every fucking mundane thing in the world AS IT IS HAPPENING.

Day 8/365: Contest Consideration

8jan2

Trying to decide which — if any — pages to send to competitions.

[Project 365]

Another batch of news designs

Don’t mind me, I’m just clicking and dragging and portfolioing.

Shelby Farms: Urban oasis
A story about the growth and change Shelby Farms is experiencing, accompanied by stunning photos.

11/28/2010 SUNView0V1

11/28/2010 SUNView0V2   11/28/2010 SUNView0V3

11/28/2010 SUNView0V4   11/28/2010 SUNView0V5

Check out the story here, as well as Jim Weber’s beautiful photo gallery.

In the shadows
A follow-up to the shocking CA story about civil rights photographer Ernest Withers’ secret life as a FBI informant.

Withers part two design 1

Withers part two design 2   Withers part two design 3

Withers part two design 4   Withers part two design 5

Check out part two of the Withers saga here.

‘I’M AL QAEDA’ design

The CA, for a few months now, has been receiving letters from self-identified jihadist Abdulhakim Mujahid Muhammad as he spends time in prison for his part in the death of one soldier and the injury of another at a military recruiting center in Little Rock. This past Sunday, we printed some excerpts of those letters, in which Muhammad describes his purpose and what he sees as an all-out war on Uncle Sam by those Muslims who have been called to fight. It’s interesting and pretty terrifying stuff. I figure most of all, it’s just sad to see someone give himself over to violence with such fervor and sense of moral duty. I don’t get it.

Read the story and take a look at his writings here. Here’s how the spread looked in the paper:

'I'M AL QAEDA' page one

'I'M AL QAEDA' page two   untitled'I'M AL QAEDA' page three

'I'M AL QAEDA' page four   'I'M AL QAEDA' page five

In other design news, I found out late last week that I won a Scripps third-quarter design award for the work I did on the Ernest Withers special section. Awesome! That brings me to three Scripps quarterly awards. It’s nice to know that the company is paying attention to how the paper looks, and giving our team some kudos!

I’m getting verklempt

Can you just imagine: Being deep inside the earth and learning that your way out had failed, thinking you were going to die down there in the darkness while the usable air just disappeared all around you, and then, to the amazement and delight of the entire world, one day being brought to the surface to see your friends and family again? To get that kind of second chance?

I will never be able to understand this depth of hatred

On the drive in to work today I had my dial tuned to American Family Radio. It’s an addiction, don’t judge me. “Focal Point with Bryan Fischer” is the show that’s usually on when I head to work (except for on Saturdays, when it’s “Down Gilead Lane,” which I LOVE SO FUCKING MUCH IT’S GROSS), and today they were apparently discussing the recent spate of young gay people killing themselves. A caller said of Rutgers student Tyler Clementi: “He killed himself because deep down he knew what he did was wrong.” Fischer thanked him for his excellent point and said that it wasn’t possible that his kid offed himself because of gay-bullying, because the kid Clementi had sex with on camera didn’t off himself.

Jeeeeesus.

And then the next caller, presumably taking the gay-suicide discussion further, asked Fischer — with the slightest tremble of giddiness in his voice — when a person knew it was time to pray imprecatory prayers. Fischer said the time, friends, is whenever your heart feels like pouring out its need for righteous vengeance to the Lord. One imagines that the caller spends his evenings rocking in the corner, muttering to God to smite the sodomites.

What has gone so rotten in your chest and your head that you cannot even fathom allowing your fellow men and women the basic dignities of existence, that you must plead with your sky friend to constantly bring pain and suffering to people so that you can feel better about the world you live in? What is wrong with you people?