Longform’s New, Free App Lets You Read Great Journalism from Your Favorite Publishers

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If you have man­aged to keep your atten­tion span intact dur­ing this dis­tract­ing infor­ma­tion age, then you’re almost cer­tain­ly famil­iar with Longform.org, a web site that makes it easy to find some­thing great to read online, espe­cial­ly if you like read­ing infor­ma­tive, well-craft­ed works of non-fic­tion. Last week, Long­form enhanced its ser­vice with the release of a new, free app for iPhone and iPad. It’s the “only 100% free app that fil­ters out the inter­net junk and deliv­ers noth­ing but smart, in-depth reads.” And, draw­ing on mate­r­i­al from 1,000 pub­lish­ers, the app lets read­ers “cre­ate their own cus­tom feeds of high qual­i­ty, fea­ture-length jour­nal­ism,” and then read it all on the go. It’s a mis­sion that cer­tain­ly aligns with ours, so we’re more than hap­py to give the new app a plug.

Sign up for our dai­ly email and, once a day, we’ll bun­dle all of our dai­ly posts and drop them in your inbox, in an easy-to-read for­mat. You don’t have to come to us; we’ll come to you!

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Conspiracy Theory Rock: The Schoolhouse Rock Parody Saturday Night Live May Have Censored

You’ve prob­a­bly seen “Illu­sion of Choice,” a 2011 info­graph­ic detail­ing how six media con­glom­er­ates “con­trol a stag­ger­ing 90% of what we read, watch, or lis­ten to.” (The enti­ties named are GE, News Corp, Dis­ney, Via­com, Time Warn­er, and CBS.) Anoth­er “Illu­sion of Choice” info­graph­ic from last year doc­u­ments how “ten huge cor­po­ra­tions con­trol the pro­duc­tion of almost every­thing the aver­age per­son buys.” Are these webs of cor­po­rate con­nec­tion kooky con­spir­a­cy the­o­ries or gen­uine cause for alarm? Do the cor­re­la­tions between busi­ness enti­ties cause polit­i­cal cur­rents that under­mine democ­ra­cy and media inde­pen­dence? It’s not par­tic­u­lar­ly con­tro­ver­sial to think so giv­en the amount of mon­ey cor­po­ra­tions spend on lob­by­ing and polit­i­cal cam­paigns. It’s not even par­tic­u­lar­ly con­tro­ver­sial to say so, at least for those of us who aren’t employed by, say, Via­com, Time Warn­er, GE, etc.

But point­ing fin­gers at the cor­po­ra­toc­ra­cy may have not gone over so well for famed com­e­dy writer Robert Smigel in 1998 when his recur­ring ani­mat­ed “Sat­ur­day TV Fun­house” seg­ment pro­duced the “Con­spir­a­cy The­o­ry Rock” bit above for Sat­ur­day Night Live. A par­o­dy of the beloved School­house Rock edu­ca­tion­al ‘toons of the 70s, “Con­spir­a­cy The­o­ry Rock” fea­tures a disheveled gentleman—a stereo­type of the out­sider crackpot—leading a sing-along about the machi­na­tions of the “Media-opoly.” Fig­ured as greedy octopi (rem­i­nis­cent of Matt Taibbi’s “vam­pire squid”), the media giants here, includ­ing GE, West­ing­house, Fox, and Dis­ney, devour the small­er guys—the tra­di­tion­al networks—and “use them to say what­ev­er they please and put down the opin­ions of any­one who dis­agrees.” The seg­ment may have raised the ire of GE, who own NBC. It aired once with the orig­i­nal episode but was sub­se­quent­ly pulled from the show in syn­di­ca­tion, though it’s been includ­ed in sub­se­quent DVD com­pi­la­tions of “Sat­ur­day TV Fun­house.”

Now “Con­spir­a­cy The­o­ry Rock” is cir­cu­lat­ing online—ampli­fied by a Marc Maron tweet—as a “banned” clip, a mis­lead­ing descrip­tion that feeds right into the sto­ry of con­spir­a­cy. Edit­ing a sketch from a syn­di­cat­ed com­e­dy show, after all, is not tan­ta­mount to ban­ning it. While the short piece makes the usu­al com­pelling case against cor­po­rate rule, it does so in a tongue-in-cheek way that allows for the pos­si­bil­i­ty that some of these alle­ga­tions are ten­u­ous exag­ger­a­tions. Our unwashed pre­sen­ter, for exam­ple, ends the seg­ment mum­bling an inco­her­ent non sequitur about Lorne Michaels and Mar­i­on Bar­ry attend­ing the same high school. For his part, Michaels has said the seg­ment was cut because it “wasn’t fun­ny.” He’s got a point—it isn’t—but it’s hard to believe it didn’t raise oth­er objec­tions from net­work exec­u­tives. It wouldn’t be the first time the show has been accused of cen­sor­ing a polit­i­cal sketch.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

5 Musi­cal Guests Banned From Sat­ur­day Night Live: From Elvis Costel­lo to Frank Zap­pa

William S. Bur­roughs on Sat­ur­day Night Live, 1981: A Quick 100th Birth­day Cel­e­bra­tion

School­house Rock at 40: Revis­it a Col­lec­tion of Nos­tal­gia-Induc­ing Edu­ca­tion­al Videos

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The New Yorker Web Site is Entirely Free This Summer (Until It Goes Behind a Paywall This Fall)

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Yes­ter­day, The New York­er mag­a­zine pub­lished “A Note to Read­ers,” announc­ing the new strat­e­gy behind its web site. The site now has a dif­fer­ent look and feel. It will also be gov­erned by a new set of eco­nom­ics, which will include putting the entire site behind a pay­wall. The edi­tors write, “in the fall, we [will] move to a sec­ond phase, imple­ment­ing an eas­i­er-to-use, log­i­cal, metered pay­wall. Sub­scribers will con­tin­ue to have access to every­thing; non-sub­scribers will be able to read a lim­it­ed num­ber of pieces—and then it’s up to them to sub­scribe. You’ve like­ly seen this sys­tem elsewhere—at the Times, for instance—and we will do all we can to make it work seam­less­ly.”

But, until then, the site won’t be half open (as it has been dur­ing recent years). It’ll be entire­ly open. Again, the edi­tors write: “Begin­ning this week, absolute­ly every­thing new that we publish—the work in the print mag­a­zine and the work pub­lished online only—will be unlocked. All of it, for every­one. Call it a sum­mer-long free-for-all. Non-sub­scribers will get a chance to explore The New York­er ful­ly and freely, just as sub­scribers always have.”

What should you read while The New York­er is open? I’d focus on the old stuff, which will pre­sum­ably get locked up too. Here are a few quick sug­ges­tions: Tru­man Capote’s In Cold Blood seri­al­ized in the pages of the mag­a­zine in 1965; J.D. Salinger’s Jan­u­ary 1948 pub­li­ca­tion of his endur­ing short sto­ry “A Per­fect Day for a Banana Fish;” and, of course, Han­nah Arendt’s orig­i­nal arti­cles on “the Banal­i­ty of Evil”?  If you have prob­lems read­ing the text (in the lat­ter two cas­es), be sure to click the pages to zoom in.

via Gal­l­ey­Cat

 

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Free Download: They Might Be Giants Play Their Entire First Album Live

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They Might Be Giants released their epony­mous debut album in Novem­ber, 1986 and it imme­di­ate­ly attract­ed the atten­tion of Vil­lage Voice music crit­ic, Robert Christ­gau, who, in giv­ing the album an “A,” said “the hits just keep on com­ing in an exu­ber­ant­ly annoy­ing show of cre­ative super­abun­dance”. Almost thir­ty years lat­er, the band per­formed the sem­i­nal first album live in its entire­ty dur­ing its 2013 world tour. And now, as a spe­cial gift to fans old and new, they’re mak­ing avail­able a record­ing of those per­for­mances for free. It runs 47 min­utes. To get the record­ing, click the “Free Album Down­load” but­ton below, and fol­low the instruc­tions. Or click here.

via Laugh­ing Squid/Boing­Bo­ing

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The Rise of the Patent Troll: An Animated Primer by Kirby Ferguson

Recent­ly, I’ve been spend­ing time inves­ti­gat­ing copy­rights, keen to find out if it’s crick­et for me to impose my vision on cer­tain authors’ long ago work. An author myself, I freely admit, I might not cot­ton to it were some stranger to have her way with my work, with­out per­mis­sion, on a stage, for all to see! Either way, I’d pre­fer things to be set­tled with­out a law­suit.

My head was so full of copy­right impli­ca­tions and loop­holes, I was unaware that a par­al­lel sit­u­a­tion was blow­ing up beyond all rea­son in the world of patents. Such igno­rance is a lux­u­ry unavail­able to legions of small soft­ware design­ers, pod­cast­ers, and small busi­ness own­ers, as artist and film­mak­er Kir­by Fer­gu­son of “Every­thing is a Remix” fame makes clear in his ani­mat­ed primer, “Rise of the Patent Troll.”

The prob­lem, he says, owes to a gap between cen­turies old patent law and a new tech­nol­o­gy that yields “inven­tions” whose parts can’t be attrib­uted as eas­i­ly as your aver­age sewing machine’s or cot­ton gin’s.

Depict­ed here as hairy, pointy-eared sto­ry­book fig­ures, the real life bad­dies are much more scary—newly formed cor­po­rate enti­ties oppor­tunis­ti­cal­ly seek­ing to enforce patents for dig­i­tal inno­va­tions they don’t real­ly own. Not sur­pris­ing­ly, they’re tar­get­ing the lit­tle guys, indi­vid­u­als who don’t have the resources to defend them­selves when attacked. Yes, in this con­text, a fair­ly renowned come­di­an can be con­sid­ered a lit­tle guy.

Fer­gu­son joined forces with dig­i­tal watch­dogs Elec­tron­ic Fron­tier Foun­da­tion, Pub­lic Knowl­edge, and Engine to make the film, but the prob­lem proves too slip­pery to ful­ly explore in three ani­mat­ed min­utes. I think the car­toon is actu­al­ly bait, to get view­ers like me to sit still for the next three min­utes, in which the artist turns the cam­era on him­self, to enu­mer­ate what cit­i­zens can do to make a pro­posed patent reform bill stick. If it all feels rather urgent, I’m guess­ing there’s a rea­son.

For more back­ground on what patent trolls are all about, don’t miss this episode of This Amer­i­can Life.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Film­mak­er Kir­by Fer­gu­son Explains How Apple’s iPhone Was A Remixed Cre­ation

Ayun Hal­l­i­day would freak worse than a goat if one of these trolls came after her. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

The Problem with Facebook: “It’s Keeping Things From You”

You liked our Face­book page. Now you’re expect­ing to see our mate­r­i­al in your Face­book news feed. It’s not an unrea­son­able expec­ta­tion. But it’s also very unlike­ly to hap­pen. As Derek Muller, the cura­tor of sci­ence video blog Ver­i­ta­si­um, explains very artic­u­late­ly in the video above, “The prob­lem with Face­book is that it’s keep­ing things from you. You don’t see most of what’s post­ed by your friends or the pages you fol­low.” And that’s part­ly because, Muller goes on to explain, Face­book is over­whelmed by con­tent, and busy try­ing to find ways to mon­e­tize its news­feed. Fol­low­ing a change to an algo­rithm in Decem­ber, the prob­lem has only got­ten worse. (We have 245,000 fol­low­ers, and maybe 7,000 — or 2% — see a post on aver­age in Jan­u­ary, as com­pared to 30,000 in Novem­ber.) If you care about how you use Face­book — either to con­nect with friends, or gath­er infor­ma­tion — the video is well worth watch­ing. It clear­ly lets you know that Face­book is con­trol­ling your social media expe­ri­ence, when it should be you.

Note: If you want to make sure you receive all of our posts, get our dai­ly email or sign up for our RSS feed. Face­book does­n’t con­trol those … yet.

You can read more about this issue at Slate.

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A Young Björk Deconstructs (Physically & Theoretically) a Television in a Delightful Retro Video

Björk’s first inter­na­tion­al hit, “Human Behav­iour” (1993) received scant radio play in North Amer­i­ca. Rather, the Ice­landic singer’s fame only grew as a result of MTV’s heavy rota­tion of the sur­re­al­ist music video that accom­pa­nied the song, direct­ed by Acad­e­my Award win­ner Michel Gondry. Despite the debt of celebri­ty she owed to tele­vi­sion, Björk was not always a fan.

In the undat­ed video above, Björk expounds on her Christ­mas­time TV-watch­ing habits.  Imme­di­ate­ly, the video takes an odd—or, I sup­pose, char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly Björk-esque—turn when the young singer decides to take her TV apart:

But now I’m curi­ous. I’ve switched the TV off and now I want to see how it oper­ates. How it can make, put me into all those weird sit­u­a­tions. So… It’s about time.

The var­i­ous com­po­nents prove fas­ci­nat­ing, and Björk pro­ceeds to describe the television’s hard­ware in her whim­si­cal, oth­er­world­ly man­ner:

This is what it looks like. Look at this. This looks like a city. Like a lit­tle mod­el of a city. The hous­es, which are here, and streets. This is maybe an ele­va­tor to go up there. And here are all the wires. These wires, they real­ly take care of all the elec­trons when they come through there. They take care that they are pow­er­ful enough to get all the way through to here. I read that in a Dan­ish book. This morn­ing.

The most puz­zling part of the video comes when Björk men­tions that her cav­a­lier approach to tele­vi­sion is rel­a­tive­ly new. Until recent­ly, she had been guard­ed about her view­ing habits:

I remem­ber being very scared because an Ice­landic poet told me that not like in cin­e­mas, where the thing that throws the pic­ture from it just sends light on the screen, but this is dif­fer­ent. This is mil­lions and mil­lions of lit­tle screens that send light, some sort of elec­tric light, I’m not real­ly sure… Your head is very busy all the time to cal­cu­late and put it all togeth­er into one pic­ture. And then because you’re so busy doing that, you don’t watch very care­ful­ly what the pro­gram you are watch­ing is real­ly about. So you become hyp­no­tized.

Thanks to the wis­dom con­tained with­in an unnamed Dan­ish book, how­ev­er, Björk has grown more at ease with the poten­tial of television’s being used for mind con­trol and hyp­no­sis. At the end of the clip, she offers a final pearl of wis­dom:

You should­n’t let poets lie to you.

via The Atlantic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Björk and Sir David Atten­bor­ough Team Up in a New Doc­u­men­tary About Music and Tech­nol­o­gy

Ice­land in the Mid­night Sun

Ilia Blin­d­er­man is a Mon­tre­al-based cul­ture and sci­ence writer. Fol­low him at @iliablinderman.

Gay Talese Outlines His Famous 1966 Profile “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold” on a Shirt Board

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Click image once to enlarge, and yet again to enlarge fur­ther.

The assign­ment was impos­si­ble: a sub­ject that refused to be inter­viewed, research that took over three months, and expens­es that reached near­ly $5,000 (in mid 1960s mon­ey). The result: one of the great­est celebri­ty pro­files ever writ­ten.

Recent­ly hired by Esquire after spend­ing the first ten years of his career at The New York Times, Gay Talese’s first assign­ment from edi­tor Harold Hayes was to write a pro­file of the already icon­ic Frank Sina­tra.

Accord­ing to Esquire:

The leg­endary singer was approach­ing fifty, under the weath­er, out of sorts, and unwill­ing to be inter­viewed. So Talese remained in L.A., hop­ing Sina­tra might recov­er and recon­sid­er, and he began talk­ing to many of the peo­ple around Sina­tra — his friends, his asso­ciates, his fam­i­ly, his count­less hang­ers-on — and observ­ing the man him­self wher­ev­er he could.

In an inter­view last month with Nie­man Sto­ry­board, Talese explained that he didn’t want to write the sto­ry in the first place. “Life mag­a­zine just did a piece on Sina­tra,” he recalls. “What can you say about Sina­tra that hasn’t already been said?” How­ev­er, for a writer who has writ­ten many bril­liant pieces, the result­ing pro­file, “Frank Sina­tra Has a Cold,” is his most indeli­ble.

Above is Talese’s out­line for the pro­file. Instead of note­books, Talese used shirt boards to write down his obser­va­tions. As he told The Paris Review in 2009, “I cut the shirt board into four parts and I cut the cor­ners into round edges, so that they [could] fit in my pock­et. I also use full shirt boards when I’m writ­ing my out­lines.”

What is also vital to Talese’s process is his per­son­al obser­va­tion. If you read Talese’s out­line (click on the image above to enlarge), you will uncov­er more of what Talese thought and felt dur­ing that day than facts about Sina­tra. “What I’m doing as a research­ing writer is always mixed up with what I’m feel­ing while doing it,” Talese notes, “and I keep a record of this. I’m always part of the assign­ment.”

This style goes to the heart of what became known as New Jour­nal­ism, which, among oth­er things, estab­lished the right for a writer to use his or her imag­i­na­tion to make a scene come alive. While the style was adopt­ed by Talese, along with Tom Wolfe, Joan Did­ion, and oth­ers, it was first born out of neces­si­ty to com­plete the Sina­tra pro­file. “The cre­ativ­i­ty in jour­nal­ism is in what you do with what you have,” Talese says.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Gay Talese: Drink­ing at New York Times Put Mad Men to Shame

The Ten Best Amer­i­can Essays Since 1950, Accord­ing to Robert Atwan

Watch Frank Sina­tra Play “Snarling Mad Dog Killer” in 1954 Noir Sud­den­ly

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