Behind the Front Page [antikvár]

Introduction: Clique Journalism h have a friend-in California, naturally-who does not read a newspaper. He does not take any magazines. He does not own a television set. And he says he does not turn on the radio except to get the weather forecast when the evidence before his eyes is ambiguous. If you ask him how he keeps up with what is going on, he says conversations teli him what he needs to know. He rides the bus to and from work-he is an odd Californian in that respect, too-and hears people talk about the news that has attracted their interest. His friends keep him up to date on the fortunes or vicissitudes of those he cares about, and they let him know if there are movies or plays or sports events he might be interested in attending. As for the rest, he does not figure he is missing much. By recreating the conditions of an earlier era, when rural and village folk depended on conversations at church or tavern or marketplace for all they knew, he has built his own cocoon. He lives a full, happy life, as far as I can judge from our occasional visits, and has time to work in his garden, take long walks, read good novels, and sit and reflect- time that we news junkies squander on our addiction. I am one of those. I wake up in the morning to an all-news public radio station, watch a morning news show on television at breakfast, read anywhere from four to six papers in the course of the day, and usually watch more than one television news show in the evening. I subscribe to more magazines and buy more books than I can read. My garage-I hope the fire department is not listening-is full of old