Tuesday Newsday: Can't Keep It In

Twitter and I have sort of a love-hate relationship, mainly because my life is usually not interesting enough to lend itself to minute-by-minute microblogging (although this does not appear to deter almost everyone else on Twitter). However, I have to give it props today, because it's part of the reason Iranian protesters have managed to organize massive demonstrations over the country's disputed presidential election for the past two days.

Reading some of the posts from Iranians on Twitter makes me feel like the most vapid person in the world. My most recent Twitter entries are on spotting Rob Pattinson outside my dorm yesterday, while the latest missives from Tehran are on violence and arrests and protests. It's scary stuff, but it's also pretty cool to follow what might be a revolution in the making.

"Citizen journalism" is not one of my favorite concepts, mainly because over here, actual journalists do it better (and more ethically, Mayhill Fowler). But in a country where the press has been banned from reporting on the streets, where foreign journalists' press credentials have been revoked, where the government is reportedly starting to crack down on electronic media, citizen journalism might be Iran's last best hope.

Tuesday Newsday: The Start of Something

Remember that shot from the opening credits of 30 Rock, where they zoom up the front of the GE Building in Rockefeller Center while jaunty music plays in the background? At some point, that shot likely goes past my window on the fourth floor, which, predictably, excites me to no end.

I've been making a valiant effort over the last few days to not gush too much about where I'm working this summer, but I am giving up all pretenses now because there's just no point anymore. 30 Rock (yes, they actually call it that) is just too awesome. For starters, it's just nice to be back in a newsroom -- any newsroom -- and the Hardball offices are pretty sweet. I get to swipe into the office with my official MSNBC intern badge (my ID comes complete with the worst picture of me ever taken), I have a computer with two monitors that will never cease to amaze me, and I get to walk past various tourists on the way up pretending I am Very Busy And Important. Score.

I've been a print journalism devotee for as long as I can remember, so trying out broadcast is daunting but really, really interesting. The deadlines are earlier -- instead of going to print at 2 a.m., we're on the air at 5 p.m., which can get harrowing but is kind of exciting. Mostly, though, broadcast is about collaboration -- with producers, anchors, tech people, camerapeople, and so on. A newspaper story goes through a long chain of editors before it goes to print. Getting a broadcast story on the air is not so linear -- it's like a giant web of people, all contributing to the same product at the same time. As evidenced by my terrible attempts at metaphors, I don't understand a lot of it, but I'm getting there.

When I'm not geeking out over the journalism-y goodness of it all, I have been keeping my eyes peeled for the famous ever since I found out that Saturday Night Live films a few floors above us and Brian Williams' office is a floor below me. (Hardball's own Chris Matthews films, unfortunately, from Washington.)

When you spend most of the year in central Pennsylvania, just being in the vicinity of television royalty is pretty damn exciting. And since random awkward encounters with broadcast personalities are kind of my thing (it's how I got this internship, after all), it's about time I started initiating awkward water-cooler conversations with my more famous NBC brethren. Lorne Michaels, you have been warned.

Tuesday Newsday: Aspirations Wrapped Up In Books

As weeks go, this one hasn't been the best for the newspaper industry, and it's only Tuesday. The Chicago Sun-Times filed for bankruptcy today, and according to a Monday rumor, the venerable New York Times will soon be eliminating its City section and regional weeklies.

Newspapers need money, but more importantly, they need buyers -- people willing to invest time and energy in reenergizing and reinventing the business model that so many have failed at. So, in lieu of giving in to the man and accepting bailout funds, here's a solution: let's buy them ourselves.

At least that's Andrew Dunn's plan. Dunn, a journalism student at the University of North Carolina, runs the Web site Let's Buy A Newspaper, where, since January, journalists have been pledging money to -- you guessed it -- buy one of the country's various struggling papers. The now-defunct, almost universally beloved Seattle Post-Intelligencer and Rocky Mountain News were once first on the site's list of potential purchases. That list now includes papers like the Miami Herald and the San Diego Union-Tribune.

On the site's "About" page, Dunn admits that he started the site on a whim when the news broke about the Post-Intelligencer but would be open to following through on the experiment if enough pledges come through.

Yes, only $28,000 has been pledged to save newspapers that are asking for hundreds of millions of dollars. Yes, the site might be a little too idealistic for its own good. Yes, there's almost no chance that Dunn's endearingly bare-bones site will actually manage to buy a paper of its own.

But at the same time, click around the site and you'll find a bunch of concerned, intelligent journalists discussing new practices in newsroom management, laying out a business plan and outlining a payroll for 20 reporters and seven editors. It's kind of like playing house -- what would we do with a whole newspaper of our own? -- but already, contributors are putting forth ideas about investors, advertising and potential locations. Reporters and editors from publications as venerable as the New York Times and as small-scale as college newspapers are pledging $50 and $500 and $5,000 if the project gets off the ground.

Maybe it's wishful thinking; maybe it's a shot in the dark. But that's what new media is about: taking a crazy idea that just might work and seeing where it goes. At the very least, Let's Buy a Newspaper is bringing together print journalists across the country to talk about the future and share ideas in a time when ideas are all we have left.

And if the whole thing does work out, they can have my $50, any day.