This note — spotted by Erik in a break room at Northwestern‘s Medill School of Journalism — takes me back to my days as a bright-eyed young reporter cheerfully slaving away at my college daily, where the grizzled old alumni “mentors” working at the Times or the Globe always seemed to have the same advice: if we were smart, we’d get the hell out of journalism before it was too late. (“Ha ha,” we’d laugh, awkwardly.) It’s somehow reassuring to know that kids today (“kids today!”) are still blithely ignoring their elders to pursue a degree that just might be the most unnecessary in higher education.
But seriously now. At this point, you’re like, “What is this biotch rambling on about? Doesn’t she know I don’t read text longer than 140 characters at a time? Show me the picture, dammit!” And that, young j-schoolers, is the topic of next week’s lecture.
related: the silverware segregationist
extra credit: the twitter explosion [american journalism review]