Thank you France!
Here is the Just a Chair podcast episode two from season one on fake news.
Here is the photo that is described in the podcast:
If you know me, you know I know something about news. You know I was editor in chief of the English news department of an independent Turkish news agency for three years. I also have shared what I believe as pivotal world news stories. Given I was situated between Greece, the Ukraine, Syria, Iran, Iraq, and Cyprus for a decade and a half, maybe, just maybe, I have enough street ‘cred’ to choose a story.
However, my knowledge didn’t all come from within. It came from many people that I worked with. The people who I call journalists, correspondents, and reporters. These people all know their jobs. Some of them, never came home after an assignment. Some were in the field for months and even years. Some I trusted, others, trusted me. (I may explain this comment one day.) You see the trust of support and news-gathering is symbiotic. The most difficult part of working in news is seeing a story die before it is ever shared to the public. I saw thousands of news stories being produced around the world via my computer. The software that combined 10 different news sources that streamed all their news. Including the news I sent out to the world.
That news, which was prepared for broadcasting clients, typically panned out to four or five stories on the evening bulletins. Not really indicative of all that ENG work we thousands of people around the globe spent all day working on. News outlets rule the roost. Period.
This is a screen grab from Instagram that I took this morning of a former colleague of mine. This is the reality of how a story happens. My friend, on the left, is out there doing his job. Yes. His job. Be thankful you have people like this out there keeping you informed. Just like this blog post, you need to be reminded of where your news comes from.
I hope to see some comments here. Not just ‘likes’ on Facebook. Your ‘duty’ to be an informed news consumer is to make an attempt to filter fake news. The news reading public should actually visit the site where the story originated from. I see so many people share stories from third parties. If your going to share a story, share the link to the site, not some paid advertising Facebook page.
Like this blog post I have spent over thirty minutes preparing, writing, editing, and posting. I really would like to see some comments below. It lets me know you’re awake.
Martin @ the crossroads
Season one, episode one… just a chair podcast. Introductions and a bit of history about the development of this series.
you can always help me out. When you do, you help the words of truth out as well.
Since July, I have been working on my new show. There was the pilot, that was actually more the audition for the show. Once I was accepted by ShawTV to produce the show, we went into pre-production mode. Well, sort of. In the talk based world of TV, sometimes real world events put a camera and microphone in your face when least expected. Not a problem for me but it’s never a dull day in my life.
From street interviews, guest interviews, location selection, all take time and, of course, expense. Looking for sponsorship, gaining access to unusual places, and arranging volunteers to help out are all a lot of fun and craziness. Of course, there’s a little creativity happening as well. With all the work done so far, we now have the debut ready for air next week, and as well, we have two more instalments ready for air as well.
The show will be in a half-hour format and will repeat at different hours through the week. Once the show has been broadcast, it will then be made available on the ShawTV North Island YouTube channel.
A new episode will be aired every two weeks and will have a new guest along interviews from ‘everyday’ people who live in the region. So if you see the ShawTV/ Martin @ the Crossroads sign up at events, malls and parks, come by and say a few words on camera!
Sunrise is an event that tells us another day is upon us. From darkness lines and shapes form up until reality returns.
This morning something came before the sun to wake me. Rain.
The recent forest fires here in western Canada have taken their toll not only on thousands of hectares of forest, but also have spread a brown pall over the sky. The rain is extremely necessary to clean the air.
Maybe, just maybe, my eyes will stop burning soon… until then, this sliver of the sun peeking out between the strata of clouds is what I will share with you this fine Saturday morning.
I heard a strong whoosh of air…
and then a commanding voice…
above me in my back yard…
I aimed my camera and took this shot…
the exact moment as the visitor rushed off…
for its next important meeting…
This visit, of course, reminded me of the great literary masterpiece by Edgar Allan Poe
[First published in 1845]
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door –
Only this, and nothing more.’
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore –
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door –
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; –
This it is, and nothing more,’
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!’
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; –
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door –
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.’
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.’
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,’ said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.’
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’
`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! –
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’
`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting –
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!
Want to see the whole show from one camera? Here’s a quick look at the future of my work. We’re working on productions using 360 degree video technology. Pretty soon you’ll be right here in the studio, or on location with us.
Here is a test video of the 360 degree camera in action. If you’re using a tablet or smartphone. Turn the device, to look around, or use your thumb or mouse to scroll the video. Just so you know, Safari browsers are still in the jungle to play these videos. In other words, it cannot play 360degree video…
Don’t forget to comment here on our site. We love to hear from you!
Fake, false, fabricated and inflated… news has really hit us hard as of late. But where do we go for it? You know the real stuff. I’ve told people time and time again that my days working with a news agency taught me a lot about how broadcasters work. Or should I say, present the news.
I always checked at least four sources to feel like I know around half the story. I don’t have time to check every one any deeper. Unless of course, you want to start paying me. Anyhow, cut to the chase, I found this site and wanted to share if with you. It’s connected to other groups around the world. So you may find one in your region. The site is https://fullfact.org/ out of the UK.
I already felt a sense of calm just looking at the headlines… I hope you feel the same way too.
Oh… What a mistake I made.
I changed the email address on my Apple account. I spent the past two days finding out that it didn’t update my log-ins so my messaging, FaceTime, iCloud (calendar, password, and contact updates), all ceased to work or notify me of calls, messages, and backups… seamless became senseless.
It’s fixed now, however, it cost me a day of frustration and some missed connections. Words of warning, “Don’t change it unless you really need to!”