Too windy for birds this morning. And for me, when it comes to the latest debates in journalism, too windy to haul rocks. Maybe I finally have a grasp of that cryptic phrase often heard from a late photojournalist friend, Richard Pipes, a real pro who hailed from the gusty plains of West Texas. I’m …

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Today was a day of ups and downs for me in my reading about journalists and the newspaper business. I don’t know whether to make heads or tails of it. I’ll just tell you how it went. I started by reading at elle.com an exciting profile of Jane Mayer, stellar investigative reporter for The New …

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This ship of state — this self-obsessed, rusting hulk of retired newspaperman — steadied the moment I felt the stillness of the coming autumn air. No pain this morning, only a sense of the gentle season ahead. I put out fresh water for scrub jays, finches, titmouses and Texas antelope squirrels, grateful that the rattlesnakes …

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Daily newspapers are the Quasimodos of public discourse — imperfect outcasts in smudged clothes, big-hearted bell ringers heaved in the dust, whipped in the town plaza but missed when not heard. Maybe they should survive just because they are so goofy. They search the horizon for new business models while really knowing no other way …

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Few things look sillier to me in newspaper retirement than breathless newspaper speculation about who will win the major party presidential nominations in 2016. I used to do it myself, of course. It’s standard fare for politics writers and editors. And speculation is one of the easiest forms of journalism. But, these days, I tend …

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