SFist on SFist
Ombudding: Behind your back, it's become a trend. With all the hoo-haw lately about the mainstream media running with shaky stories, it seems that even ESPN has decided they need an ombudsman on-hand for when the fecal material contacts the rotating blades. Meanwhile, over at the New York Times, their first "Public Editor" (an ombudsman in disguise) has just hit his term limit of 18 months, and decided to go out with a bang, viciously (but fairly?) skewering three of the paper's Op-Ed writers. Here at SFist, the ombudsmanship has no built-in expiration date, so we don't know exactly when we'll be penning our last missive, but when the time comes, it's nice to know that the professional thing to do is toss a couple of grenades over your shoulder on your way out the door. (We expect great things from the new PE at the Times, Barney Calame, because as everyone knows, fresh buds are best.)
What can we say about May? It was another rockin' good month for SFist. Traffic continues to grow, which means our contributors are one step closer to that special dinner at Denny's that our Gothamist overlords have promised if we meet our targets.
Comments remain hit-or-miss. We have some days where most of our posts garner none at all, and other times, our readers won't shut up. Which is just fine: This is just one way we have of figuring out what y'all want to read about. We already knew that transit postings are popular, but who knew that our coverage of the latest rap killing would garner such an outpouring of raw emotion and social commentary? All right, bad example, although we honestly would like to have our suspicions confirmed regarding what it means that one reader claims to "ALWAYS SMELL LIKE KIESHA." We feel like we've got an inexcusable slang defecit, here.
A seriously neat comment came in from Jim Leff, the man behind chowhound.com, whose book we reviewed, not altogether positively. Jim could have taken the approach that is all too common online, posting an angry "Eff you, SFist!" sort of comment, but he didn't. He defended his work and described his motivations calmly and rationally. In the end, it doesn't matter whether Cedric's post or Jim's defense is more convincing; what's worthwhile is that that the two components taken together provide a clearer picture of the reviewed work than either component taken alone. Kudos to Jim for generating a discussion there without bringing any nasty emotion into the frame. We appreciate it, and our readers do, too.
Another comment we took note of this month came from AF, who suggests that future updates of "We Read the Weeklies" should sport a running scorecard of how many times each rag has won the weekly throwdown. This is a fantastic idea. How about it, Rita? (And while we've got the attention of one of our most prolific contributors, what the hell ever happened to ChronicleWatch Watch?)
When Cheshire ranted about bicyclists, we knew the comments would roll in. They did. And although they got heated, they stayed civil. Reader Brianna Hoffner took a page from the Slashdot playbook when she rated Cheshire's piece "-1 flamebait," and we didn't flinch at all. We get pretty flamebaity when we Rant. If we didn't, it wouldn't really be ranting, would it?
A bit of a policy issue broke out in the comments to our review of "I'd Kill For a Parking Space." Rita had thanked the PR rep who scored SFist a set of tickets, mainly as a way of disclosing to our readers that yes, sometimes we get freebies. Nothing wrong with that: It serves both to remind folks that SFist has a bevy of contributors just chomping at the bit to go out there and experience stuff and write about it (as long as we don't have to pay to get in), and also to remind our readers that sometimes we don't have to pay to get in. That said, we don't feel obligated to disclose our arrangement every time someone hooks us up. When you read reviews in the mainstream media, you assume the writer got a free ride. (Yes, that's right: Roger Ebert did not pay to see Revenge of the Sith. No, he did not mention this in his review. And no, we would neither dare nor dream to compare ourselves to Ebert.) In these dawning days of "citizen journalism," we'll sometimes remind you that sometimes we get treated like the big kids. Sometimes.
Sometimes we'll also not react well to criticism. This happened after the Trimethyldioxypurist's latest post. Reader JumboShrimp says that the java at Ritual Coffee tastes like dirt. The Trimethyldioxypurist (I am so not typing that again) himself slapped JumboShrimp down with what reads like withering sarcasm -- an unfriendly move. Reader George. (I'll forego the pesky period in subsequent references; hope you don't, mind, George) then responded with snark of his own, suggesting that SFist doesn't welcome opinions in the comments. SFist Eve didn't care for that, wondering out loud why George hates us, and the thread was capped off by the T-cup labelling JumboShrimp's comment "simplistic idiocy."
Ahem. If the ombudsman had been paying attention that day, he would have sent both Eve and Jeremy to their rooms for a time-out. There is absolutely nothing inherently idiotic about expressing the opinion that a given cup o' joe tastes like dirt. There is also nothing wrong with George pointing out that this site has a history of being harsh with people who post comments. Besides, look at the inoccuous little discussion we'd have had if JumboShrimp's comment had gone unaddressed, or at least unscorned. Sure, the comment was no well-reasoned argument, but that is not a requirement for commenting. JumboShrimp didn't attack anybody or lower the level of discourse on the site enough to merit the sort of attention he got. What ended up on display, in the end, was either insecurity or grumpiness on SFist's part. Next time around, to borrow a phrase from Judge Alex Kozinski of the 9th Circuit, "The parties are advised to chill."
Apropos of nothing else at all, we would just like to say that this post housed the month's scariest image, and this post laid claim to the sauciest. See you next month. Happy SFisting.