REAL, FAKE NEWS—An editor at the Los Angeles Times once offered me the opportunity to write a first person account of how I went from being a print reporter to becoming a television news producer.—me, December 9, 2016, 8:34 am
1/ maewestside.tumblr.com/post/154250253…
1/ maewestside.tumblr.com/post/154250253…
It was a generous opportunity by a paper that had blessed me with 15 years of real estate as a nightlife columnist and music writer. But each time I drafted the memoir, it kept coming out bloody: as a writer you’re always running with the bulls in the Pamplona of your mind.
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Figgered as an investigative producer in a local tv market, it was best to stay under the radar and reach for the gutter with the rest of the Great Unwashed.
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Things got pretty squirrelly both in print and tv, as media ate itself, and I curtsied and went my own way.
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As “real” became “entertainment” and “entertainment” became “real,” and “outrage” became #normcore and F.E.A.R. Sold Ad$, it got pretty difficult to ascertain what was Real, Fake News.
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Ergo, a Pageant Guy is now your Twitter Tyrant—bot and sold—network built and operated, a Real Genuine Phony who wants to be liked but seems incapable of empathy. People who knew I produced a business series whisper, “The economy is gonna be great! Everyone will have money!”
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My head hurts.
I had a dream about the Pageant Guy: I was strolling down a boardwalk and there he was, looking 60 if he was a day. The sun was out and we recognized each other. I smiled and said, “If I give you light, will you receive it?”
He nodded, and said, “Yes.”
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I had a dream about the Pageant Guy: I was strolling down a boardwalk and there he was, looking 60 if he was a day. The sun was out and we recognized each other. I smiled and said, “If I give you light, will you receive it?”
He nodded, and said, “Yes.”
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I gave him knocks and sent him light.
I walked away still uneasy. Words have no meaning for those who lack empathy, so I had no way of knowing if he would receive the light or if he could receive the light.
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I walked away still uneasy. Words have no meaning for those who lack empathy, so I had no way of knowing if he would receive the light or if he could receive the light.
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I awoke from the dream, to my 17-year-old daughter, a poet and activist, screaming she’d just gotten accepted to @Wellesley, and I think I finally understand the universe. #yinyang
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Spanish street artist Isaac Cordal taught me there are only two types of people: good and bad.
It simplifies things.
#freepress
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It simplifies things.
#freepress
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****
Author Heidi Siegmund Cuda is giving empathy for Christmas this year.
12/9/2016, 8:34 am
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Author Heidi Siegmund Cuda is giving empathy for Christmas this year.
12/9/2016, 8:34 am
11/
Reflecting back on my early writings and reporting into TrumpRussia.
Trump and his cabal of goons would always steal and misappropriate my words.
The Resistance was real. And so we’re the ops.
I compiled my posts from 2016-2019 here.
ko-fi.com/s/7eaa40d5ef
Trump and his cabal of goons would always steal and misappropriate my words.
The Resistance was real. And so we’re the ops.
I compiled my posts from 2016-2019 here.
ko-fi.com/s/7eaa40d5ef
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