There’s a pervasive fear in the print-media industry that readers increasingly get their news not from disheveled, poorly dressed reporters, but from disheveled, underdressed bloggers, with objective, puritan journalism exchanged for snarky opinion.
Even the notion of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein chasing down leads had a hint of action. But who’s going to make a movie where the caffeine-addled hero jockeys a sofa, rifles pronouncements from a cyber-soapbox, all while smoking menthols and gratuitously instant-messaging a network of friendsters?
