Lildis

Lil Dis, Lil Dat

Goodbye Grantland

I’d been meaning to write about the demise of Grantland, the ESPN sponsored website that was unceremoniously shuttered by the worldwide leader last week, but I was still too pissed off about the whole thing to be cogent.  Of course, there are some who would claim that I must be permanently pissed off because I am hardly ever cogent, and to them I would simply say, “You’re probably right”. 
I would then go on to remind them that since the topic at hand seemed to involve “piss off”, that’s exactly what they can do.

But back to Grantland.  In June of 2011, when I first started writing here, one of the first things I posted was a notification that Grantland was commencing operations, that it was the brainchild of Bill Simmons and that it would be interesting to see what became of it.  I said that it was “worth checking out”.  It sure was.  Grantland became one of the touchstone sites on the internet almost as soon as it began publishing its content.  It quickly morphed into a place where you could find first class sports writing but also intelligent and unique cultural articles concerning film, television, the state of journalism itself and a host of other topics.  Simmons was, by all accounts, an innovative editor and a good guy to work for.  He was also, by any reliable measure, a pain in the ass for his superiors.  He had a reputation for pushing hard for the stories he wanted, regardless of the corporate consequences, he would tweak the nose of the powers that be in Bristol (the Connecticut sanctorum where ESPN's corporate headquarters can be found) and he would knowingly give the business to some of ESPN’s biggest business partners.  Most notable of these was the time he got himself suspended for calling Roger Goodell a liar, which to me is a bit like calling Michaelangelo a “painter”. 

Of course he paints, and he’s a damn good painter.

But Simmons was also extremely good for ESPN and did exactly the job he was hired to do – expand the company’s internet reach, produce good content and ideas and make the brand relevant to a new universe of viewers/readers.  He developed the concept for the brilliant “30 for 30” documentary series, recruited amazing talent and made ESPN, if not “hip” at least tolerable to a generation of fans who had pretty much soured on Chris Berman’s swami routine.  Simmons was also, despite the confrontations, always open in his admiration for the opportunities presented him by ESPN, once devoting an entire podcast to the story of his improbable rise from bartender to media phenomenon and how pivotal the people at ESPN (whom he addressed by name) had been in making his career a success.  So what else would you do but fire him, which ESPN did earlier this year.

Then there was Grantland, which had to be considered the crowning glory of his tenure at ESPN.  Named after legendary sportswriter Grantland Rice the site was universally respected both for its approach to stories (which was amazingly eclectic yet retained a recognizable house “style”), and for its talent.  Bill Barnwell on football, Wesley Morris on film, Katie Baker on hockey, Charlie Pierce (as documented in this blog) on whatever he felt like writing about, plus a myriad of other talents along with Simmons  – you didn’t have to like everything on Grantland, but, trust me, you would like something.  On any given day you could find an oral history of the Pacers- Pistons brawl in Detroit, a review of the latest films, a podcast with the President of the United States or a bracket by bracket tournament conducted between the greatest movie sequels of all time.

So ESPN had a problematic but valuable group of employees who had created a vibrant and well-respected website loaded with talented and devoted writers, editors and staff - what else could you do except shut it down?

ESPN has issued the usual drivel about “difficult times” and “hard choices” that basically means they didn’t think they would make much money off the website.  This is nonsense. The content at Grantland was so good that it seems impossible to fathom that it didn’t make money for ESPN at some level.  Just the sales of “30 for 30” box sets, marketed so effectively via Grantland, would probably provide some decent revenue.  Nonetheless I accept that the site wasn’t conventionally profitable.  The problem I have is that it should have been – that the reason it wasn’t making money had little to do with the site and everything to do with the network’s attitude towards the site.  It was never promoted properly, was never featured as the prime location it was and gained significant notice from its parent only when it was being handcuffed, chastised, hushed up or finally, shut down. 

ESPN claims their decision was based on the bottom line – but here’s the real bottom line.  If you can’t make money off one of the best websites around that is a failure of the business department and senior management, not the editorial department or writing staff.  So why wasn’t there a purge of the people who managed to make chicken shit out of chicken salad?  Because, at the end of the day, the network saw Grantland as a pain in the ass, just like they saw Simmons.  Sure, they could have toughed it out for the sake of their audience and the concept of good journalism – but – that would have taken some effort, planning and, in all likelihood, some bloodletting amongst the ruling class at the network.  ESPN was sick of worrying about placating the NFL, hand-wringing over interviews with political figures, monitoring the movie reviews for disparaging comments about Disney films or staking out a claim on real journalism.  It was easier to let the whole thing go.  And we’re all the worse off for it. 

Professional sports is entertainment – and very good entertainment.  It tries to market itself as somehow “character building” or a force for good in the community – but that’s all nonsense.  If there is that impact it’s because of the devotion of the fans who make the brand capable of raising dollars for charity or just making people feel good.  The teams just play games that people like to watch, discuss and read about.  And that’s enough – it really is.

If there is any other impact that pro sports have (and I’m including big time college sports in this equation because, well, big time college sports is professional) it is that it can sometimes serve as a useful microcosm of the larger issues in society.  That’s why Ken Burn’s “Baseball” actually works as an historic review of the issues of race and labor relations in America.  It’s why Jim Bouton’s “Ball Four” was correctly identified as one of the most influential books of the last century.  And it’s why the debacle that ESPN has created over Grantland is a perfect example of what’s wrong with corporate journalism today.  The reason there is a complete lack of respect for the media these days is because things like this happen. The corporate parent calls the shots – and it is much easier to run a website that only posts the scores and when you can tune in to the games than one that writes things that are truly interesting.  Oh, there’s always an excuse - “we worried about editorial control” or “times are tough and we had to tighten our belts” but the reason you see less and less analysis and more and more talking heads shouting at each other is because no one in control has the guts to fight back.  The same cowardice that led ESPN to remove its name from a report on concussions and football (see here:  http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/10/sports/football/by-shunning-concussion-documentary-espn-gives-it-a-lift.html?_r=0) is behind the Grantland decision.  They were cowards then, they are cowards now and, truth be told, they’ll be cowards tomorrow.  I would say that the executives who made this decision will have to live with it on their conscience, but you need to have a conscience for that to be true.

In all of this my heart goes out to the people who have lost their jobs.  The “interim” Editor in Chief Chris Quisling, I mean Chris Connelly, has said that Grantland will “honor the staff’s contracts, including exclusivity”.  It’s a contract Chris – you have to honor it, and the “exclusivity” part – we know that means you won’t let the one’s you want to prevent from joining Simmons get away so easily.  You’ll make them cover curling or something.  Meanwhile a guy like Charlie Pierce, who was doing tremendous work, has to go through this shit yet again.  The guy must worry that he’s like a fart at a dinner party.  He’s left the Boston Phoenix, The National and now Grantland on the ash heap of history.  It’s not you Mr. Pierce, it’s the man.  That goes for all of the writers, Simmons and the other contributors to Grantland.  Thanks for what you did and what you had the guts to try to do.  Too bad you didn’t have a network with the guts to let you succeed.

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

The argument about genetically modified foods and the role of large corporations like Monsanto in marketing the same is now in full boil on the internet.  People who have never done more than read the caption on a Facebook photo suddenly feel compelled to warn the planet of crops so dangerous that they are seemingly only one step away from joining the Taliban and invading our cities.  Despite the clear and present danger of an enraged onion knocking on my door I will nonetheless try to clear up a few myths surrounding this topic (while always understanding that for the true believers there is no way to convince them that GMO doesn’t stand for “Guaranteeing Mankind’s Obliteration”).

Myth One:  Modifying Foods' Genetic Makeup is “New Science”

I would hope that everyone is aware that we’ve been modifying the genetic makeup of foods since, probably, prehistoric times.  A banana in its natural state is a finger length inedible sprout.  It’s been so heavily engineered via selective breeding and genetic manipulation that it is now actually incapable of independent reproduction (that's why there are no seeds in bananas).  There are now hundreds of varieties of this one crop (most bananas in tropical countries are used for cooking and aren’t as long or soft).  All of this is due to a prolonged period of genetic manipulation. But nobody calls for banning bananas (say that 5 times fast).  In truth – almost all of our foods are genetically modified to a certain extent – it’s just that until we developed the knowledge of the genetic structure the means by which these modifications were introduced into the plant was through selective cross breeding in greenhouse laboratories or via independent farming “trial by error” horticulture.  This was actually often far more dangerous as it could result in the development of a product that might mask vulnerabilities. 

Take the potato as one example.  Having been introduced to the Old World following the Spanish conquest of South America it became a sensation in Europe, where it was bred into a larger, more easily harvested variety.  This then became the staple food for many countries – including, most famously, Ireland.  Unfortunately the modification of the potato crop by what would nowadays be deemed “natural” processes led to the plant losing its disease resistance.  When this resulted in the failure of the crop in mid 19^th century Ireland millions died or were forced to emigrate.  If current scientific methods had been available it is quite possible that the most traumatic event in Irish history could have been avoided.

Yes – current methods for modifying crops are more sophisticated – but this does not mean they are more or less dangerous than the methods used in the past.  The science is largely the same – everyone has always been trying to find out how to change a plant to make it bigger, tastier, more resistant to disease, cultivable in drier soil, impervious to higher or lower temperatures, etc.  The difference is that now we know where to go to within the plant to make that happen.  It is the method that is new – not the science.

Myth Two:  The Debate Over GM Foods Pits Big Business Against “The Little Guy”

Actually – no.  This debate is really one group of corporate giants against another.  It’s just that one is much more skillful at remaining hidden and manipulating the public.  That side is not the one that includes Monsanto, which has proven incredibly inept at generating good publicity.  No – it would be the agribusiness concerns that oppose greater expansion of GM usage that are the stealth bombers of this fight. 

The large concerns that have, for example, managed to get the EU to threaten to allow a ban on GM crop importation (that’s right – “threaten” – the EU has not banned all GMO’s, as many American activists like to allege) are doing so not because they have any real fear of genetic modification, but because they worry about their own bottom line.  This is what European science actually says about GMO’s:

The main conclusion to be drawn from the efforts of more than 130 research projects, covering a period of more than 25 years of research, and involving more than 500 independent research groups, is that biotechnology, and in particular GMOs, are not per se more risky than e.g. conventional plant breeding technologies.

So it’s not really the science that worries the people in Europe who wish to ban GMO’s – but what then could it be that creates the opposition?  The fact is that European agribusiness fears the cheaper crops that might actually cause its food businesses (among the world’s largest) to compete in the real marketplace.  Genetic modification might mean that African farmers, who currently can’t grow large volumes of crops because of the soil conditions and climate difficulties they face, might suddenly become competitive if given hardier crop varietals that could survive these conditions.  To forestall this –as well as competition from the Americas – there are wealthy and powerful interests that see an outright ban as the proper response to this threat.  The problem with this is that it condemns an entire continent’s worth of farmers to crushing poverty for no good reason.  It also means your food costs more than it really should.

All I’m really saying here is that you shouldn’t fool yourself into thinking that all the big money sits on one side of the controversy .  There are entrenched and powerful interests with less than pure motivations all over the place.

Myth Three:  There Is No Way To Tell What Food Is Modified And What Isn’t

There is an enormous amount of outcry over the fact that not everyone has seen fit to require companies that make use of GM foods in their products to advertise that fact on their label.  When you ask these people what type of GM they wish to have notified the typical answer is “anything”.  In which case you would simply put a label on just about every food known to be consumed by humans (see “banana”, above).  Eventually this demand is rolled back and labelling is requested “only” of those foods that have some degree of genetic engineering via gene splicing or “laboratory enhanced” means of altering the crop.  Unfortunately – this again would cover just about anything that includes corn starches, most sugars, large amounts of rice and even more products that have some contact with the commonly used means of putting together processed foods. 

Now I don’t necessarily like processed foods but I’m smart enough to realise that if I buy a box of Pop Tarts they probably weren’t sourced from a commune in upstate New York.  The ingredients (things like “blueberry preserve and fruit flavouring” or “enriched wheat”) are listed – but the somewhat subjective designation as to the genetic origin of those ingredients is not.  Big freaking deal – if you assume that there are no such ingredients in the product just because it isn’t listed on the label – you’re an idiot.  The best way to insure that you aren’t getting genetically modified foods if you don’t want genetically modified foods is to look for the label that says “This product was made without the use of genetically modified ingredients” or “100% organic”.  Believe me – if the producer of the product went to the trouble of keeping GM ingredients out – they’ll tell you about it.

This really goes to the core of the problem with the “nanny state” debate.  The assumption on the part of any group taking a position on something is that the sole reason to disagree with them is lack of information.  To the anti-GM activists it is the failure to inform that keeps the masses ignorant of the truth.  In reality it is much more reasonable to assume that people simply don’t believe that version of the “truth”.  We’ve all heard about this controversy – and the conclusion many have reached is that the proper term for corn that has been genetically modified and corn that hasn’t been genetically modified is – wait for it – “corn”.  I don’t need more information – the science has supplied enough evidence for people to decide that there is no rational basis to differentiate.  No – we are not all just too stupid to know what is good for us.  No – we are not all victims of corporate manipulation.  No – we are not all desperately waiting for enlightenment on this subject. I would never prevent a seller from truthfully telling someone they have not used a certain ingredient in their product.  Since this is the case all I would say is don’t make other producers notify me of a distinction that is, according to a perfectly rational argument, not worth making.

There are other myths out there and there are, admittedly, improvements in protocols that can be made.  But I can’t see the GMO argument as anything more than another version of modern Luddite behaviour.  “Science” is neither enemy or friend, conservative or liberal, capitalist or communist.  It is simply a process, a means of analysing data through the use of hypotheses, experimentation and conclusions.  It is people who are ideologues – but increasingly it is the scientific message itself that is seen as the purveyor of a position.  Look – the fact that the icecaps are melting is not a manifesto.  The fact that vaccinations have saved millions of lives is not a party political platform.  And a more efficient method for growing food in an increasingly populated world is not dogma – it is opportunity and should be treated as such.

Excerpt From "Along the Banks"

I've begun writing a guidebook/brochure that chronicles a bike trip I am taking along the proposed route of the Dublin to Galway cycle path. The majority of this will follow the course of the Royal Canal and I'm taking my mountain bike along the rough trail that currently exists in the hopes that it will help get the actual greenway, which is one of the best proposals for Irish tourism to come along in years, built.  So I'm going to take a trip along the canal and put down what I see with little side trips to discuss Croke Park, the original Bloody Sunday, Brendan Behan, fishing in Ireland and whatever else tickles my fancy.  Here's a very rough draft from the manuscript as a sneak preview. 

Every journey begins somewhere – and for the purposes of this book our beginning is on the North Wall Quay next to the metal drawbridge that marks the junction of the Royal Canal with the River Liffey.  The Liffey is a tidal river, and it is never going to be confused with the Thames, Mississippi or even the Shannon in terms of size, grandeur or economic importance.  But the people of Dublin have great affection for the river, celebrating it in song and story, and while its length may not be great it has a history that stretches from the Vikings through numerous wars, famines, kingdoms, empires, republics, declines and rebirths.  So before starting on the northside adventure that will follow the course of the Royal Canal have a pint in the Ferryman pub over on the banks of the southside, just a stone’s throw away from the Grand Canal (the older, southern, equivalent of the Royal) and gaze across the expanse of the river that provides one endpoint of the journey that lies ahead.

From the junction of the Liffey and the Royal, looking towards The Ferryman pub.

                                         

The symbol of the river is the famed “Anna Liffey” (Anna Livia) and a portrait can be found on an electrical box found at the junction of the canal and river.  Of course – there is no "Anna Liffey" – the name is actually a derogation from the Irish Abhainn na Life (meaning, believe it or not, “River Liffey”) but that hasn’t stopped artists from James Joyce to Pete St. John imagining the river as a woman.  Perhaps the most (in)famous attempt was a certain statue originally erected on O’Connell St. of a mermaidlike figure reclining in a fountain of flowing water.  Entitled “Anna Livia” the statue immediately fell prey to Dubliners’ inclination to provide nicknames to anything that remains in the city for more than a few hours.  The statue alternatively became the “Biddy in the Bidet”, “Hoo-er in the Sewer”, “Chick in the Crick” and the one that ended up becoming a nearly universally accepted moniker – “the Floozy in the Jacuzzi”.  The statue was moved from O’Connell St. to a less central location upstream some years ago – but we’ll see a few statues and memorials on our way up the canal.  So let’s get started.

A portrait of Anna at the start of the canal

                      

The "Floozy" back when she lived on O'Connell Street

 



The area where we begin has been transformed in the last twenty years from an industrial wasteland to a booming financial centre (well – sometimes more booming than others).  Known as the "International Financial Services Centre" (the "IFSC" to most) it has its origins in a tax concession that the Irish Government managed to obtain from the European Union.  The EU decided that it would allow businesses that agreed to relocate to the approximately one square mile area inside the IFSC to avail of a 10% tax rate.  The offer proved so attractive that soon the area was filling with international banks and fund managers - which led the Germans and other EU countries to reconsider whether they should have given the break in the first place.  Soon it was announced that the IFSC would have to conform to the same tax rate as the rest of Ireland - that the "special zone" status of the IFSC would be lost.  Ireland, faced with the prospect of the big boys taking their ball and going home asked the EU for a clarification - "Are you saying" they queried, "that all the corporations in Ireland need to have the same tax rate - that we can't have a lower rate for the IFSC crowd?"  "That's exactly what we're saying" replied the bureaucrats.  "Grand so" said Ireland, and lowered the corporate tax rate for everyone.  There it sits to this day, at 12.5% the lowest corporate rate in the EU, which bugs the hell out of a good few people in Brussels.  Before the tax break was given you were a thousand times more likely to run into a pack of wild dogs in the area of the IFSC than you were a banker.  Some might pine for the days of the wild dogs, but let's not be cynical just at the start of the trip.  

The Samuel Beckett Bridge from canal side and at sunset.

One of the Liffey’s newest bridges – the Samuel Becket, built to resemble a giant harp, looms in back of you as you make your way up the first stages of the canal past Dublin’s convention centre and across its above ground rail line, the Luas.  Almost as soon as we begin our journey up the canal side – well - we have to leave the canal side.  That’s a bit of a bummer – but the canal is shut from a lifting bridge through a large series of rail yards and switching stations.  Probably for the best – and we only have to take a short detour up Seville Place (one of Dublin’s rougher neighbourhoods) to Amiens Street – where we’ll take a right at the Five Lamps and head up the road about a quarter of a kilometre until we get to Charleville Mall and the Newcomen bridge where we can rejoin the canal after about a five minute cycle. It is here we meet the first of the 46 structures that will be found the length of our journey.  It’s time for a word about locks.

                                                                         The first of 46 locks

The word “lock” has its origin in the old English/proto Germanic word “Luik” or “Lucan” which meant to close, fasten or create a barrier.  This is more than a bit coincidental in that there is a town, Lucan, that sits very near the course of the Royal Canal but the name of the town comes from the Gaelic Leamhcán meaning “place of the elms”, and has no connection with the barriers that allow boats to traverse a canal.  The system of locks are among the most ingenious engineering feats of the pre-industrial world.  The ability to figure out how to close a watertight door and fill a chamber with water in such a manner as to lift a boat uphill across hundreds of miles sounds tough enough.  Consider now that these chambers were built during a time when there were no electrical or internal combustion engines to facilitate the job.  Now consider that much of the stonework set in place to achieve this engineering marvel is still sitting, and functioning, just as it was when the canal was first built.  So the locks will be referred to in the text of this book mainly as milestones – points of reference to let you know just how far along you are – but take a minute to consider the work that they do and that went into making them as you pass on your way.

From the first lock the trip proceeds along a well maintained but very urban pathway. There are some low bridges ahead so proceed with caution and, as is the case with any urban cycling watch out for dogs, broken glass and winos as you get started on the first kilometre of the trip.  As you duck your head under the bridges your eye will be drawn ahead and upward to the first, and largest, of the monuments you will see along the banks of the canal.  Looming over you is the historic majesty of Croke Park.

Historic Croke Park

As the sign outside the stadium says Croke Park is the home of the GAA - the Gaelic Athletic Association.  Along the course of the canal you will see many other reminders of the extensive popularity and reach of the GAA throughout Ireland.  It is the governing body of the traditional Irish Sports of Gaelic Football, Hurling and Camogie (and of handball – which is deemed a Gaelic game and whose domestic headquarters is found just outside of Croker).  That description makes the GAA sound rather simple, sort of like the NCAA in America or (God forbid) FIFA in soccer.  But the GAA is more than that -it is a cultural touchstone in Ireland and its headquarters is an historic outpost in its own right.  The scene of the original “Bloody Sunday” massacre, when British troops slaughtered players and fans after bursting in to a match on the 21^st of November, 1920, resulting in 14 deaths, Croke Park's significance transcends the world of sport.  The event is depicted in Neil Jordan’s film “Michael Collins” and the scene is found on YouTube here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOiQRkK1tyg

The clip is not entirely historically accurate but the general thrust is correct – the player depicted as being shot is Thomas Hogan, and the “Hogan Stand”, on the north (far) side of the stadium, is named after him.  The canal actually passes under the stand at the “canal end” of the park, and so will you as you make your way up the canal.  It is through the canal end that the British forces entered the park on that fateful day.   But the GAA, and Croke Park, is about more than the events of Bloody Sunday.  The formation of the Association, back in 1884, occurred during a time known as the “Gaelic Revival” which included efforts to preserve the Irish language, develop the Irish theatre and promote Irish folklore and legends.  All these helped develop a sense of Irish nationalism, but by any objective measure the most successful was the GAA.  Traveling the one strip of land along the Royal Canal you will see dozens of GAA pitches and clubs – and that's not surprising since there are over 2,300 GAA clubs on the island of Ireland alone.  All of those clubs, and all of that activity, leads back to Croker at the end of each summer as the various counties compete to win the All Ireland finals in Hurling and Gaelic Football (the Liam McCarthy and Sam Maguire cups, respectively).  On final day the stadium will be filled with over 80,000 fans.  Similar crowds have been packed inside for concerts, rugby matches and the Special Olympics.  Any trip down the canal begins (or ends) in the shadow of this monumental edifice.

Gazing back at Croke Park from Phibsboro

(More to come)