Monday, October 31, 2005

A quiet, wretched piece of nonchalant crap

You know what pisses me off? That lately, I don't have an opinion.

Yes, the bunny has no opinion. Since when?! How the heck should I know. I took out the article I wrote earlier this semester about blogging (before it got all passe) that was featured in iPlay and realised how much I had to say before, I dunno what happened, but yes, this bunny had a lot to say about everything. Don't I sound like an annoying psychopathic attention-seeking journalist wannabe bimbo. And then I looked at this month's issue of Sportlight (yes, that monstrosity) and when the editorial screamed in big ugly bold font "InDesign is such a b**** to use!!!" I wasn't the least bit surprised.

I rummaged through my "portfolio" and found what I had to say about an issue of Sportlight two semesters ago.

Journalism takes a punch

Anybody got a copy of this November’s SportLight? SportLight, for the benefit of the more fortunate among us who have been spared the agony of this brainless read, is the NUS Students’ Sports Club newsletter. And like all newsletters, serves to keep students in the loop of the activities of the club, and is also a platform through which Sports Club members have the opportunity to showcase their journalistic flair.

The above information, which traditionally is included in the editorial, was completely omitted, leaving first-time readers to arrive at their own deductions. If I were to represent one of these clueless readers, I would have thought that this magazine was a photo illustration of the sports club management committee.

The editorial, typically meant to provide readers with a comfortable introduction to the contents and offer any sentiments the club would like to share with the masses, was a disorganized muck of shameless ramblings by the (and I can only infer, as there was no indicated position) editor and assistant editor. After the initial digestion of the editor’s message, which included her major and a myriad of details about her academic life and personal choice confusions, I was greeted with a whole 2 paragraphs worth on her trials and tribulations with the daunting Photoshop. After reading what seemed like two blobs of brainless narcissistic ramblings not unlike what is found on a tasteless blog, I swallowed my urge to throw the newsletter away and turned to view the next few pages with much trepidation, not knowing what other indecencies to journalistic integrity have been committed.

A quick read confirmed the SportLight reputation of being grammatically erroneous, badly punctuated and Anglo-challenged. The report on the Sports Ball 2004 turned out to be a badly documented report on the organizing of the event, ala project proposal, rather than an actual report on the happenings that night. But of course, having a budget larger than 10 Takashimayas, this full-colour, 16-A3-page monstrosity told its stories in photos, given that the standard of the publication seemed like the target audience are morons anyway, and cannot possibly digest anything literary.

As I was about to fling the newsletter away, the shoddy layout of the front page caught my eye, and the “star features” screamed “Exclusive interviews with U. K. Shyam and an extraordinary runner”. I realized that the editors somehow think this other guy’s name wasn’t worth mentioning next to U. K. Shyam. This guy (his name is Cheong Peng Tat in case you’re wondering) incidentally, had a more extraordinary story to tell than the national runner. Oh, the irony.

Having headed numerous publications myself, I am disappointed that such a monstrosity could even be passed as a piece of journalism. Their reputation precedes them; Sports Club has done it again. THIS is where student subscription money goes.

21st November 2004

Evidently, the standard of the "publication" has not improved. In fact, bad writing and the lack of professionalism has propogated in the Sports Club pulications committee culture. And it sucks, but now, I don't bother.

So full of angst I was. I think I'm only silently angsty now, but markedly nonchalant.

Hey, who gives a fuck anyway?

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