For this post we’re supposed to pick a topic that relates to the future of jounalism. I feel that “Citizen Journalism” will be very important to the industry in coming years. With the creation of blog sites and video streaming sites such as youtube, these citizen journalists are becoming more and more popular.

Someone like Perez Hilton is a prime example of how effective citizen journalism can be. Who ever heard of this guy before 2 years ago? Now he’s a blog phenomenon (www.perezhilton.com) with a cult-like following. His blog is updated all the time, with new dirt on the celebrities posted everyday, accompanied by pictures with often ridiculous captions. He has somehow managed to weasel himself into the entertainment business, by being a nosy guy in Los Angeles who writes a blog. He makes appearances on various entertainment shows to announce the latest gossip, and give everyone the “inside scoop.” Muchmusic will sometimes interview him live on air during Much On Demand to find out all the latest celebrity news. He’s even making cameo appearances on TV, music videos and movies now.

I believe that with the layoff of more and more journalists, due to companies giving in to conglomeration, that citizen journalists are almost going to be relied on. With cutbacks in staff, companies are having less people do more work, and because of that I think that alot of important stories with go undiscovered. If citizen journalists are used and paid a lump sum for their stories, I think mediums suffering from being understaffed can definately benefit from it. It’s not fair for people like us who are going to school for it, but it’s something that could be done, just as like a freelance sort of thing. We just had to write a story for Kurt’s class on how The Spectator just laid off a bunch of people, and how a professor from Mohawk said that the quality of the paper is going to be affected. You could even use citizen journalists as a means of finding out stories that more people actually care about, in an attempt to make more people read.

In the end, as much as real journalists look down on “citizen journalists”, they may help the industry out in times where conglomeration is eating away at jobs. They may just save the ass of the news industry if things keep going the way they are.

*the link for this post is Perez Hilton’s blog site.

My dislike of Valentine’s day isn’t just because it’s a stupid corporate holiday, or that I’ve never had a good one, because I have, it just ended terribly. On Valentine’s day in grade 8, I was on top of the world. I was queen of my school’s valentine’s dance, and my crush, was my king. I had a volleyball game coming up after school that day, and I was always pumped to play sports, and I was the captain of the team which made every game a little more special to play. I still remember it so clearly, some of my friends were acting really strange, it was like everyone knew something that I didn’t. Near the end of the day, me and about 4 or 5 of my closest friends were sitting against the wall listening to The World’s Greatest by R. Kelly, and my mom and step dad walked in. My dad had been battling lung cancer since August, and they had come to tell me that he had passed away. I thought I was going to pass out, I couldn’t see straight, I could barely walk, they were holding me up by my arms.

Valentine’s day is 3 days after my birthday, and I had just turned 14. My dad had been sick on and off since I was 12, diagnosed with cancer when I was 13. One of my first memories of Hamilton, was coming here to visit him in the ICU of Henderson Hospital, because they didn’t think he would make it through the night. He did, and he recovered, but they thought he had lupus. It wasn’t until a giant lump grew on his neck that they knew what it really was. He underwent chemo. Then more chemo. Was in the hospital. Then out of the hosiptal. And here I was, at 13 years old, finally really getting to know my father, having a good relationship with him, and he was dying on me.

All of a sudden, by bright-eyed-bushy-tailed, full of life, hockey plaing father that everyone loved, was bald, couldn’t go anywhere without an oxygen tank, had a drain implanted into his side, and looked like he had aged 50 years. My mother and step father withheld the word that he only had 3-6 months to live until Decemeber, when I argued I didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve with him because it was a break in tradition. I don’t know if I was in denial, but I knew my dad had cheated death a bunch of times before, I just thought this was just another hiccup on his lifeline.

After Christmas, his attendance to my sporting events was declining, while his stays in the hospital were becoming more frequent and longer. I missed the heckler in the stands who would holler at my coaches to put me on the floor when I was only off to take a rest and let other people play. His voice was becoming strained, his energy deteriorating.

My grandma paid for home care for him, and I had to stay there more often than the every second weekend agreement my parents had. They would make me sit in there holding his hand. I just couldn’t do it as much as they wanted me to. I couldn’t sit in there watching him waste away. Everytime I talked to him, he would tell me how much better he was feeling and how he was going to get through it, and everytime I heard that, I gained a little more hope and rubbed it in my mom’s face that she was wrong and he was going to be okay. He wasn’t going to be okay though.

I remember being about 6 years old, in the car with my mom, going to Cambridge to visit my dad, who I didn’t really know at the time (he was an alcoholic until I was about 8, so I didn’t get to see him that often), I told her that I’m not sure I would be all that sad if he were to die. Those words have haunted me since the day he died. In my defense, not only was I 6 and almost single-handedly raised by my mother, and I didn’t really know him. But man, I wish I would have never uttered those words, because my OCD leads me to believe that had I not said that, none of this would’ve happened.

Last night, in my serious frustration with being sick, I looked up at the pictures of him I have on my wall in my dorm room, and started to cry. My friend Stef, who I went to highschool with, came downstiars immediately to listen to everything I had to say. She told me she doesn’t know anyone who has been stronger about a situation like this, especially given my age.

I was lucky in a sense. I knew he was going to die, I was forced to watch it happen. I would rather that then have it happen suddenly. I got to say everything I wanted to say to him before he died, some people don’t get that chance. I don’t sit here and go “I hate my life” because he’s dead. I’ve accepted it, it happens to people. No amount of crying, or screaming or heartache can bring him back. All I can do is live my life the way he would’ve wanted me too. And I know he’s up there looking down at me, still hooting and hollering. Still cheering me on. And yes it does hurt like a bitch to think that with every Valentine’s day that passes is one more year since I’ve heard his voice, or seen him. One more year of events in my life that he’s missed, and that there are many more years and events he will miss to come. But I also know that my dad and I are so similar that we butted heads alot, and if he was still here, it doesn’t mean that everything would be super awesome. There would be fights, and there would be crying, and there would be us being really mad at eachother. But he would be here.

Rarely do I talk about him to people. I try not to think about it. I hate telling people, because as soon as you say it, everyone gets really awkward and feels bad for asking about where my dad is because they only ever hear me talk about my mom. At the same time, I have to let people know, because I can’t let people think he’s just not in my life because he’s a deadbeat. He would be here if he could. And he would be here hooting and hollering and cheering me on, giving me shit for being in college instead of university, and for failing Current Affairs. He wanted me to be the best, and I’m not perfect, but when I’m on TSN, he’s going to be smiling and saying “that’s my girl”. So this is for my daddy, Charles Patrick Peters February 20, 1957 – February 14, 2002.

Why is she staying with him, if he’s so blantantly lying to her you ask? The simple fact that she loves him. But she was so hell bent on dumping his ass until he mentioned that in the next 5 years he wants to marry her, something she’s been wanting to hear. Katie is alot more mature than people of our age group, and is ready for babies and marriage in that time frame, and doesn’t want to waste her time on something that won’t go anywhere.

She does everything for Scott. Has since they’ve started dating. She buys him food and cigarettes, gives him a place to stay, unconditional love, and she doesn’t get much back in return. I really like Scott, him and I have a lot of fun acting like 12 year old when we’re out in public, and he is one of my male best friends for sure, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s only saying these things because he’s afraid of losing his meal ticket.

I dated Scott’s older brother Jaime on and off for over a year, but the 2 despise eachother. When all of this came about, it just so happened I was working with Jaime and asked his opinion on the whole situation. He had nothing but awful things to say about his brother and ranted for an hour. Everything from saying he has a drug problem to he cares about noone but himself to he’s cheated on every girlfriend he’s every had, which brings me to my question: if you’re once a cheater, are you always a cheater or can you change?

Katie seems to think that he can change, even after putting all the pieces together and figuring out he’s done it more than once. People keep telling her she’s making a huge mistake, and I’m thinking she might be too, but I told her I would support whatever decision she made, and if it all fell apart in the end, I’d still let her cry on my shoulder, and I won’t tell her “I told you so”. Maybe it’s because I know the family kind of), and how they are the most brilliant masters of deception I’ve ever met, but if me and Jaime were in the same position, I would probably take him back too. I call it the “Underwood effect” because Jaime and Scott, both seem to have this hold over people, where they can get away with anything they want.

I’m not even sure whether or not I’m being a good friend for supporting Katie. Am I a good one for supporting her when noone else will, or a bad one for almost encouraging her to get her heartbroken? Even though she won’t listen to anyone else anymore. But the question in the back of my mind, is that even though he did it, can her love make him change? If he’s anything like his older brother, he’s going to take advantage of how much she cares about him and completely shred her heart. But I want to believe that he’s a better person than that. He always says he’s a better person than that. But alot of things don’t add up. The whole situation is so confusing to me. I, as the best friend, am being turned to for advice, and all I can do is present the what ifs of both sides of the arguement to make her see what’s going on. But the fact that I think deep down she’s making a mistake, has me racking my brain over this. Ever since I’ve met her, it’s just been one bad thing after another and I hate seeing her cry. She’s my best friend and she’s gone through so many things at such a young age, and I just want her to be happy. Up until last Tuesday, Scott made her happy.

She says she’s willing to fight for it, especially if it can end up in marriage, but what if he’s just talking out his ass like everyone says he is? Can love really conquer all? The fact that Scott screwed up so bad he made his brother, whom I nicknamed Shithead at the low of our relationship, look like a friggin saint. The Shithead, who broke my heart into a million pieces over and over, looks like the good brother. There is something seriously wrong with this picture.

I guess at the end of the day, the real question is: is staying in a shitty situation for the sake of not being alone, worth being unhappy? I know she’s constantly going to be wondering where he is and who he’s with. That’s not fair to her. She doesn’t want to have to start from the beginning with someone else. She’s really only settling. Which leads me to my next blog…