Is the honeymoon over?

I came across C.C. Chapman's post today about the honeymoon of social media and marketing being over, and it now being time for the "work" part of the relationship to begin. I found myself unsure of whether I agreed with him or not; I can understand his point, but I'm not convinced that there are enough social media evangelists within the business world (or, in my case, the traditional media world) to even consider the two truly married.

A friend recently wrote a major paper for her journalism ethics class on the value of Twitter in journalism. Throughout the course, she told me her attempts to convince the students of social media's importance fell on entirely deaf ears. The professor pooh-poohed the choice of topic until she promised him she could find some legitimate research. I encountered the same resistance recently from colleagues at the City Desk - they could see no way in which Twitter (and I use Twitter as an example, rather than the end-all, be-all of social media) could serve any journalistic purpose.

This, I suppose, is going to be my greatest challenge as a believer in both "new" and "old" media. I still feel that newspapers are a valuable part of a society (everybody wanted a copy of USA Today from 11/5/08, not a printout of the website), but I've been on-board the social media's usefulness since early on. It's a matter of making those two perspectives gel.

But the point is - they don't yet. The majority of those in the field still find social networking to be a nuisance at worst and a casual association network at best. I can't classify it as a marriage - they're dating, perhaps, but nobody's proposed yet.

Million

"Million", by Jawbreaker

Would that you could touch this angel in a clutch of snakes.
Oh pretty, pretty, I'm aflame.
So excited, so unslept.
Somewhat littered, so unswept.
You have to sleep before you wake.

I am spilled and poured.
I am peeled and cored.
I am hanging from the floor.
Flicker like a freak through a sleepless week
In a black cell of forever.

There's a point to this.
A point I think I often miss.
Oh clever, clever, where's your heart?
You can turn a phrase until it reads a million ways.
It makes no sense but it's as good as it is sad.

I am sad, elated.
I am segregated.
There's this stitching and it's itching.
All my friends are dead.
Asleep in distant beds.
At least these enemies stay close.

Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be a pretty one.
Sign me to a nice girl so she can ruin me eternally.

They offered me a million bucks.
All I want's a steady fuck.
Oh steady, steady, where are you?
Channelsurf a sea of static,
See the prize but you can't have it.
There's something thankless in a wish fulfilled.

I am thrilled and bored.
I am unskilled, adored.
All of both and none of one.
I would kill for more.
I haven't killed before.
I could set this heart on stun.

Take me to the pretty ones.
I want to be original.
Sign me to a nice girl so I can sing her something meaningful.
In my perfect world I'd be assigned to a nice girl.
It would cost one million kisses.

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It's from this song that I drew the title of my blog here.  Just thought I'd share it.

Million