2008 Woodie Awards
So long, Bat Boy: Demise of tabloid unfortunate
They're Only Words
By Lisbeth Wells-Pratt
Rocket Columnist
Issue date: 8/31/07 Section: Opinion
Welcome back-and yes, I know it is the beginning of a new semester, and that I could be talking about the new ID cards or Michael Vick, but I feel there are much more pressing issues that need to be addressed in my first opinion column.
In late July, I was hit in the head with one of the most painful pop-culture blows since Kurt Vonnegut's death. Not only was I going to have to survive on this bleak planet without Mr. Vonnegut's sweet musings of Ice-Nine and Kilgore Trout, I was going to have to do without my regular copy of the Weekly World News.
Founded in 1979, the Weekly World News prided itself on being the "World's Only Reliable Newspaper." Founder Eddie Clontz ran the paper with the interesting journalistic philosophy of, "Don't fact-check your way out of a good story."
If someone came to the newspaper in the early days of its 28-year run with a story touting their abductions by aliens, the writers would write it as seriously as any Associated Press article. The heydays of the WWN were marked by semi-true, semi-embellished stories that entertained millions of readers each week.
During the 1990s, however, something happened that would forever shape the destiny of the Weekly World News. With the discovery of a bat child (appropriately dubbed "Bat Boy") in the mountain wilds of West Virginia, the WWN became an instantly recognizable facet of newsstands everywhere. Bat Boy struck such a chord with the American public with his ambiguous sense of morality and politics that he even has a musical named after him.
However, in 1999, the WWN was taken over by a man, the aptly named David Pecker. Many of the older writers were replaced with young comics and the "news of the weird" became the "news of the absurd" and eventually fizzled out into the "news nobody cares about." In 2006, circulation had plummeted to only 83,000 and in 2007 parent company American Media pulled the plug on the publication.
Now Americans are left to their own devices. With no reliable media to report upon the escapades of Bat Boy, the extra-terrestrial adoptive children of Hillary Clinton, or even the "Manigator," where are readers to turn?
One can only imagine Sean Hannity or Lou Dobbs breaking the news of Barack Obama's alien love children or the discovery of a scalp-eating headscarf in Liz Taylor's closet.
But real news has started to rival even the Weekly World News' most fantastical articles. We are living in a world where nearly unbelievable bat children pale in comparison to the even more unbelievable amount of money spent to keep "illegal aliens" out of the country ($7.8 billion for the 2007 fiscal year).
In the larger sense of things, 28 years of tabloid bliss is hardly a blip in the galaxy of human existence. For as long as there has been human life, there have been far-flung beliefs that seem a little less than sane, and the WWN gave readers a chance to indulge in these stories on a weekly basis.
Never fear, however. The WWN will still continue to post stories online, entertaining audiences in the world of cyberspace. It won't be the end of the world (not yet at least-I think that's going down in 2045), only the end of a journalistic era. I urge all of you to keep Bat Boy in mind for president in 2028, keep your eyes to the skies, and keep a healthy dose of skepticism in your systems.
Lisbeth Wells-Pratt is a freshman creative writing major and a regular contributor to The Rocket.
In late July, I was hit in the head with one of the most painful pop-culture blows since Kurt Vonnegut's death. Not only was I going to have to survive on this bleak planet without Mr. Vonnegut's sweet musings of Ice-Nine and Kilgore Trout, I was going to have to do without my regular copy of the Weekly World News.
Founded in 1979, the Weekly World News prided itself on being the "World's Only Reliable Newspaper." Founder Eddie Clontz ran the paper with the interesting journalistic philosophy of, "Don't fact-check your way out of a good story."
If someone came to the newspaper in the early days of its 28-year run with a story touting their abductions by aliens, the writers would write it as seriously as any Associated Press article. The heydays of the WWN were marked by semi-true, semi-embellished stories that entertained millions of readers each week.
During the 1990s, however, something happened that would forever shape the destiny of the Weekly World News. With the discovery of a bat child (appropriately dubbed "Bat Boy") in the mountain wilds of West Virginia, the WWN became an instantly recognizable facet of newsstands everywhere. Bat Boy struck such a chord with the American public with his ambiguous sense of morality and politics that he even has a musical named after him.
However, in 1999, the WWN was taken over by a man, the aptly named David Pecker. Many of the older writers were replaced with young comics and the "news of the weird" became the "news of the absurd" and eventually fizzled out into the "news nobody cares about." In 2006, circulation had plummeted to only 83,000 and in 2007 parent company American Media pulled the plug on the publication.
Now Americans are left to their own devices. With no reliable media to report upon the escapades of Bat Boy, the extra-terrestrial adoptive children of Hillary Clinton, or even the "Manigator," where are readers to turn?
One can only imagine Sean Hannity or Lou Dobbs breaking the news of Barack Obama's alien love children or the discovery of a scalp-eating headscarf in Liz Taylor's closet.
But real news has started to rival even the Weekly World News' most fantastical articles. We are living in a world where nearly unbelievable bat children pale in comparison to the even more unbelievable amount of money spent to keep "illegal aliens" out of the country ($7.8 billion for the 2007 fiscal year).
In the larger sense of things, 28 years of tabloid bliss is hardly a blip in the galaxy of human existence. For as long as there has been human life, there have been far-flung beliefs that seem a little less than sane, and the WWN gave readers a chance to indulge in these stories on a weekly basis.
Never fear, however. The WWN will still continue to post stories online, entertaining audiences in the world of cyberspace. It won't be the end of the world (not yet at least-I think that's going down in 2045), only the end of a journalistic era. I urge all of you to keep Bat Boy in mind for president in 2028, keep your eyes to the skies, and keep a healthy dose of skepticism in your systems.
Lisbeth Wells-Pratt is a freshman creative writing major and a regular contributor to The Rocket.
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