by Alex Massie
Meanwhile, file this in the folder marked Everything New is Actually Older Than You Think. In the course of a lovely tour through the boozy squalor of the Fleet Street novel, Christopher Hitchens notes:
Admirers of [Michael] Frayn's second novel [Towards the End of the Morning] are sneered at by those of us who are in the know, and who appreciate that it is his first novel about journalism that really demonstrates his genius. In The Tin Men, published in 1965, there are some boozers and louts and misfits, to be sure. But the brilliance of the thing lay in its attempt to reduce the business of hackery to an exact formula. At a demented research institute named for William Morris, eager eyes gaze at a computer that can handle UHL, or "Unit Headline Language". A survey is conducted, in which people are shown the random headlines:
ROW HOPE MOVE FLOP
LEAK DASH SHOCK
HATE BAN BID PROBE
A total of 86.4 % of those responding say that they understand the headlines, though of this total a depressing number cannot quite say why. Thus the search must go on. Would people like to read about air-crashes with children's toys in the wreckage, or without children's toys in the wreckage? In the case of a murder of a woman, should the victim be naked or partially clad? Frayn re-summons the tones of old Fleet Street into this laboratory of shame, when the questing researcher Goldwasser is brusquely accosted by his vile assistant Nobbs: " 'Do you prefer a female corpse to be naked, or to be clad in underclothes?' he repeated to Goldwasser. 'That's what I call a good question, mate. That's what I call a good question.' "
Isn't this basically the business model for the Huffington Post?
The Dish 