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YouTube Hunter: EPIC 2014 and the Future of Newsprint]

This month's Atlantic includes a fascinating article by Michael Hirschorn on what newspapers have to do to stay relevant in an increasingly diffuse, almost schizophrenic, media environment. We've got blogs and MySpace and YouTube and, shucks Jimmy!, however are newspaper supposed to stay afloat? Certainly, as everyone's been saying for some time now, the future doesn't look bright. Circulation figures are dwindling, younger generations haven¹t developed their parents' taste for broadsheet, blah blah blah barf. Being forced to read these same stories over and over is almost enough to make you throw in the towel and root for the Death of the Newspaper.

Occasionally, though, a piece of doomsday-ism comes around that is too entertaining to deny. EPIC 2014, which Hirschorn kicks off his article describing, is one. Produced in 2004, it foretells the death of old media at the hands of a hyper-personalized news disseminator run by Googlezon, which is what Google and Amazon call themselves after the predicted merger. Before watching the video, two quick notes: 1) Don't forget that everything after 2004, not 2006, is pure conjecture. 2) Thrill to the way the narrator gratuitously emphasizes certain words--"participatory journalism PLATFORM!" It's delightful and also a little creepy.

I wasn't kidding about the over-zealous narration, huh? Anyway, as tiresome as newspaper death stories are, solution-based ones can be fun, if for no other reason than you can look back three years from now and see how silly we all were for writing this stuff down. And that¹s precisely the kind of piece Hirschorn has written, and as smartly as can be expected.

His suggestion for staving off impending doom is this: newspapers should move the business of breaking original news"“"in the form of stories, postings, and community""“entirely to the web and leave the paper version for longer analytical pieces akin to the New York Times' occasional Washington Memos. It's a relatively simple and, it seems, inevitable step, since the public is getting increasingly used to reading and commenting on the news not every morning, but more like every minute.

I believe his specific proposal is unlikely to succeed, however. He says, by way of example, that the Times should give its music critic Kelefa Sanneh his own blog/social network so that he can post his own reviews, myriad thoughts, and the like, and his readers can respond in kind with their own reviews, myriad thoughts, and the like. That way Sanneh isn't bound by the strictures of a daily publishing schedule and can reach out to his readers whenever he has something to say. And, in turn, his readers can reach out to him. Interactive-errific! A number of studies suggest that readers respond to that kind of give-and-take, and, according to Hirschorn, almost every reporter would have his own blog: Dana Priest of The Washington Post would write about intelligence, Adam Nagourney of the Times on Washington scuttlebutt, etc.

My problem with this plan is that as much as it strokes my ego to think readers recognize bylines and would follow individual reporters to their own sites, I seriously doubt it¹s true. It's too much of a media world-centric point of view for me. I understand this is anecdotal, but whenever I mention the name Adam Nagourney to fellow journalists, they
instinctively respond, "Oh, you mean the guy who can't find enough ways to write a story about The Democratic Party In Turmoil?" But when I mention him to other people outside the bubble...crickets. It's natural. I can't name more than two hedge fund managers.

The idea of moving breaking news to the web is essential"¹especially, as Hirschorn notes, if newspapers wise up enough to "microchunk" the content, syndicate it, and get a share of the the ad revenue from sites that pick it up--but the parent companies would be a lot better off if instead of giving reporters their own blogs, they gave sections of the newspaper their own blogs. Say, intelligence.washingtonpost.com instead of danapriest.washingtonpost.com. In addition to combating the false sense of name recognition Hirschorn believes in, this approach would also be able to better harness the collaborative advantage newspapermen have over bloggers. It's not Dana Priest who makes all the phone calls and does all the research. She has an excellent research team, and she occasionally works with other reporters on the same story. Don't make her the star, make the Post's intelligence team the star. The site can still have all the social networking you want, but you'd be playing up your home court advantage. Plus, identifying a section of the paper rather than a single reporter is better for strengthening brand loyalty.

Using this approach"¹if we take a very rosy outlook"“might also help some of the mid-major newspapers that, according to media critic Jack Shafer, are too small to compete with the Times and the Post and too big to focus on the very local news that'll most likely keep the smallest papers alive. How? Let's use the Detroit Free Press as an example. They can scale back on some of their more expensive national and international coverage by picking up syndicated pieces not just from the AP, but from other papers, too. Then, they could put more resources into creating their own newspaper destinations that other papers would link to and they could earn syndication money from. The obvious example for the Free Press would be to generate the country's best automobile industry coverage. And in the same way, other mid-major papers would jockey for their own little
niches. Gardening for the Orlando Sentinel, for instance, or travel for the Philadelphia Inquirer. Papers fill be scrambling to these gaps, and as a result of market forces, the quality of journalism would have to get pretty high to become a niche leader. I, for one, am dying for a Pulitzer-winning gardening story. Where are you, Orlando?

Okay, all this is just a start. The issue is obviously complicated enough to write a book about. But I want to know what you think. Am I crazy? Is there anything you agree with me on? Do you have any other ideas on how newspapers are going to survive the next ten years? Let me know.

And I promise to write about something totally frivolous next week.

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entertainment
5 Things We Know About Stranger Things Season 2
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Netflix

Stranger Things seemed to come out of nowhere to become one of television's standout new series in 2016. Netflix's sometimes scary, sometimes funny, and always exciting homage to '80s pop culture was a binge-worthy phenomenon when it debuted in July 2016. Of course, the streaming giant wasn't going to wait long to bring more Stranger Things to audiences, and a second season was announced a little over a month after its debut—and Netflix just announced that we'll be getting it a few days earlier than expected. Here are five key things we know about the show's sophomore season, which kicks off on October 27.

1. WE'LL BE GETTING EVEN MORE EPISODES.

The first season of Stranger Things consisted of eight hour-long episodes, which proved to be a solid length for the story Matt and Ross Duffer wanted to tell. While season two won't increase in length dramatically, we will be getting at least one extra hour when the show returns in 2017 with nine episodes. Not much is known about any of these episodes, but we do know the titles:

"Madmax"
"The Boy Who Came Back To Life"
"The Pumpkin Patch"
"The Palace"
"The Storm"
"The Pollywog"
"The Secret Cabin"
"The Brain"
"The Lost Brother"

There's a lot of speculation about what each title means and, as usual with Stranger Things, there's probably a reason for each one.

2. THE KIDS ARE RETURNING (INCLUDING ELEVEN).

Stranger Things fans should gear up for plenty of new developments in season two, but that doesn't mean your favorite characters aren't returning. A November 4 photo sent out by the show's Twitter account revealed most of the kids from the first season will be back in 2017, including the enigmatic Eleven, played by Millie Bobby Brown (the #elevenisback hashtag used by series regular Finn Wolfhard should really drive the point home):

3. THE SHOW'S 1984 SETTING WILL LEAD TO A DARKER TONE.

A year will have passed between the first and second seasons of the show, allowing the Duffer brothers to catch up with a familiar cast of characters that has matured since we last saw them. With the story taking place in 1984, the brothers are looking at the pop culture zeitgeist at the time for inspiration—most notably the darker tone of blockbusters like Gremlins and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

"I actually really love Temple of Doom, I love that it gets a little darker and weirder from Raiders, I like that it feels very different than Raiders did," Matt Duffer told IGN. "Even though it was probably slammed at the time—obviously now people look back on it fondly, but it messed up a lot of kids, and I love that about that film—that it really traumatized some children. Not saying that we want to traumatize children, just that we want to get a little darker and weirder."

4. IT'S NOT SO MUCH A CONTINUATION AS IT IS A SEQUEL.

When you watch something like The Americans season two, it's almost impossible to catch on unless you've seen the previous episodes. Stranger Things season two will differ from the modern TV approach by being more of a sequel than a continuation of the first year. That means a more self-contained plot that doesn't leave viewers hanging at the end of nine episodes.

"There are lingering questions, but the idea with Season 2 is there's a new tension and the goal is can the characters resolve that tension by the end," Ross Duffer told IGN. "So it's going to be its own sort of complete little movie, very much in the way that Season 1 is."

Don't worry about the two seasons of Stranger Things being too similar or too different from the original, though, because when speaking with Entertainment Weekly about the influences on the show, Matt Duffer said, "I guess a lot of this is James Cameron. But he’s brilliant. And I think one of the reasons his sequels are as successful as they are is he makes them feel very different without losing what we loved about the original. So I think we kinda looked to him and what he does and tried to capture a little bit of the magic of his work.”

5. THE PREMIERE WILL TRAVEL OUTSIDE OF HAWKINS.

Everything about the new Stranger Things episodes will be kept secret until they finally debut later this year, but we do know one thing about the premiere: It won't take place entirely in the familiar town of Hawkins, Indiana. “We will venture a little bit outside of Hawkins,” Matt Duffer told Entertainment Weekly. “I will say the opening scene [of the premiere] does not take place in Hawkins.”

So, should we take "a little bit outside" as literally as it sounds? You certainly can, but in that same interview, the brothers also said they're both eager to explore the Upside Down, the alternate dimension from the first season. Whether the season kicks off just a few miles away, or a few worlds away, you'll get your answer when Stranger Things's second season debuts next month.

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Food
The Gooey History of the Fluffernutter Sandwich

Open any pantry in New England and chances are you’ll find at least one jar of Marshmallow Fluff. Not just any old marshmallow crème, but Fluff; the one manufactured by Durkee-Mower of Lynn, Massachusetts since 1920, and the preferred brand of the northeast. With its familiar red lid and classic blue label, it's long been a favorite guilty pleasure and a kitchen staple beloved throughout the region.

This gooey, spreadable, marshmallow-infused confection is used in countless recipes and found in a variety of baked goods—from whoopie pies and Rice Krispies Treats to chocolate fudge and beyond. And in the beyond lies perhaps the most treasured concoction of all: the Fluffernutter sandwich—a classic New England treat made with white bread, peanut butter, and, you guessed it, Fluff. No jelly required. Or wanted.

There are several claims to the origin of the sandwich. The first begins with Revolutionary War hero Paul Revere—or, not Paul exactly, but his great-great-great-grandchildren Emma and Amory Curtis of Melrose, Massachusetts. Both siblings were highly intelligent and forward-thinkers, and Amory was even accepted into MIT. But when the family couldn’t afford to send him, he founded a Boston-based company in the 1890s that specialized in soda fountain equipment.

He sold the business in 1901 and used the proceeds to buy the entire east side of Crystal Street in Melrose. Soon after he built a house and, in his basement, he created a marshmallow spread known as Snowflake Marshmallow Crème (later called SMAC), which actually predated Fluff. By the early 1910s, the Curtis Marshmallow Factory was established and Snowflake became the first commercially successful shelf-stable marshmallow crème.

Although other companies were manufacturing similar products, it was Emma who set the Curtis brand apart from the rest. She had a knack for marketing and thought up many different ways to popularize their marshmallow crème, including the creation of one-of-a-kind recipes, like sandwiches that featured nuts and marshmallow crème. She shared her culinary gems in a weekly newspaper column and radio show. By 1915, Snowflake was selling nationwide.

During World War I, when Americans were urged to sacrifice meat one day a week, Emma published a recipe for a peanut butter and marshmallow crème sandwich. She named her creation the "Liberty Sandwich," as a person could still obtain his or her daily nutrients while simultaneously supporting the wartime cause. Some have pointed to Emma’s 1918 published recipe as the earliest known example of a Fluffernutter, but the earliest recipe mental_floss can find comes from three years prior. In 1915, the confectioners trade journal Candy and Ice Cream published a list of lunch offerings that candy shops could advertise beyond hot soup. One of them was the "Mallonut Sandwich," which involved peanut butter and "marshmallow whip or mallo topping," spread on lightly toasted whole wheat bread.

Another origin story comes from Somerville, Massachusetts, home to entrepreneur Archibald Query. Query began making his own version of marshmallow crème and selling it door-to-door in 1917. Due to sugar shortages during World War I, his business began to fail. Query quickly sold the rights to his recipe to candy makers H. Allen Durkee and Fred Mower in 1920. The cost? A modest $500 for what would go on to become the Marshmallow Fluff empire.

Although the business partners promoted the sandwich treat early in the company’s history, the delicious snack wasn’t officially called the Fluffernutter until the 1960s, when Durkee-Mower hired a PR firm to help them market the sandwich, which resulted in a particularly catchy jingle explaining the recipe.

So who owns the bragging rights? While some anonymous candy shop owner was likely the first to actually put the two together, Emma Curtis created the early precursors and brought the concept to a national audience, and Durkee-Mower added the now-ubiquitous crème and catchy name. And the Fluffernutter has never lost its popularity.

In 2006, the Massachusetts state legislature spent a full week deliberating over whether or not the Fluffernutter should be named the official state sandwich. On one side, some argued that marshmallow crème and peanut butter added to the epidemic of childhood obesity. The history-bound fanatics that stood against them contended that the Fluffernutter was a proud culinary legacy. One state representative even proclaimed, "I’m going to fight to the death for Fluff." True dedication, but the bill has been stalled for more than a decade despite several revivals and subsequent petitions from loyal fans.

But Fluff lovers needn’t despair. There’s a National Fluffernutter Day (October 8) for hardcore fans, and the town of Somerville, Massachusetts still celebrates its Fluff pride with an annual What the Fluff? festival.

"Everyone feels like Fluff is part of their childhood," said self-proclaimed Fluff expert and the festival's executive director, Mimi Graney, in an interview with Boston Magazine. "Whether born in the 1940s or '50s, or '60s, or later—everyone feels nostalgic for Fluff. I think New Englanders in general have a particular fondness for it."

Today, the Fluffernutter sandwich is as much of a part of New England cuisine as baked beans or blueberry pie. While some people live and die by the traditional combination, the sandwich now comes in all shapes and sizes, with the addition of salty and savory toppings as a favorite twist. Wheat bread is as popular as white, and many like to grill their sandwiches for a touch of bistro flair. But don't ask a New Englander to swap out their favorite brand of marshmallow crème. That’s just asking too Fluffing much.

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