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SO MINE, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HATEMAIL HEADACHES
David Judson
Hurriyet
Friday, January 29, 2010
In one of several encounters over the years with the psychiatrist's
couch (the first was when I was nine or 10), the good doctor offered
the appraisal that I was in the wrong business. In his estimation I
suffered from what he called "high approval needs." Translation: I
like to be liked. Why this is a flaw, and moreover one to be fixed at
the rate of $150 an hour, remains a mystery to me. But at the time of
the conversation I was willing to entertain his suggestion that people
in my condition are not suited for the newspaper business. Lots of
people don't like newspapers or newspapermen. They think, write and say
nasty things about them. This hurts. And it takes some getting used to.
This week, losing a game of chess to my visiting 10-year-old niece
Mine, for some reason I found myself chuckling over the chat with the
shrink years ago. "If only he could see me now," I muttered, speaking
really to no one. But 10-year-olds, particularly ones who are devils
at chess, pick up on odd things. She wanted to know who "he" was and
why I was laughing to myself. Then she joyfully nailed a bishop.
"Well, I am awfully glad you seem to enjoy my company," I offered. And
then I sought to explain.
I left out the part about running a small newspaper that is part of
a larger journalistic war for survival. On several fronts. I omitted
the recent attempt at humor on the front page of a Turkish language
newspaper hinting that I actually work for the CIA. I skipped over
such details as the CFO of my company calling me a "sponge" this week
in the presence of a dozen others. Yes, I know I lose a lot of money.
Details of a pending reorganization of the newsroom, the
inevitable anger and stress did not seem to interest her. She had,
of course, heard of the political firestorm enveloping Turkey called
"Sledgehammer." Thankfully, the roundups of alleged Kurdish terrorists
and al-Qaeda members in the east had escaped her attention. I mumbled
a little bit about disputes over how to handle all this that arose in
the course of the week. I added something about my loss of newsroom
fans over my decision to make desperate Haiti the cover of our culture
supplement, City Brief. Mine was more interested in pointing out a
rule in chess that you cannot move the same piece successively more
than three times. (I did not know this).
I did spot some empathy when I complained of the headaches of the
Internet. Mine, you see, has her own Facebook account. And she
seemed to think my dilemmas would be eased if I signed up for MSN
Messenger, which she offered to do for me. I declined. This part of our
conversation, however, somehow summoned from the recesses of memory
a book called, "A Wrinkle in Time," by Madeleine L'Engle. We were on
to a new round of chess, so I tried to recount the book I read when
I was about her age. I forget the storyline but I do recall it had
something to do with the effort to enable faster-than-light travel
enabled by something called "tesseract." Tesseract was pretty complex
stuff for me back then. Much like the Internet is now. Mine promised
she'd read "Wrinkle" if I can find it in Turkish.
But what finally, to my loser's relief, got Mine to set aside the
chessboard was when I got to the hate mail. She wanted all the
details. She didn't get them all, of course. But I did explain
the flood after our story by Umit Enginsoy on the role of angry
Armenians in a recent local election in Massachusetts. Most thought
this disparaging, deceitful and the result of an "anti-Armenian,"
or in some cases, a "conspiratorial" mind. It was a little thinner
on sourcing than is usually the case with Umit, one of the Daily
News' most thorough reporters. But the fault is mine. I asked for
it on the shortest of notice. When you can't give reporters a day
off, you can allow for the off day. And Umit did do a good job of
sorting through the case being made for his thesis by Armenians in
Massachusetts themselves.
There was the usual stuff that comes in from Greece, my being an
apologist for Turkish barbarity and the like. I was an anti-Semite
at least twice, a syncophant for Hamas at least once. One bitter
complaint from Yerevan I concluded was reasonable. A headline twisted
a call for renewed urgency in peacemaking into an implied threat of
war. We also identified the Dashnak political party, a member of the
Socialist International, as "far right." Ultranationalist, certainly.
But "far right?" Not synonymous. Just after I lost my second knight
to a 10-year-old, I get a journalistic checkmate from Yerevan. The
writer had me. I did what I could and hereby apologize.
But the week's real gem came from somebody named Ergun Kırlıkovalı,
who lives in California and is "President-Elect" of ATAA. This is
the acronym for the Assembly of Turkish American Associations. I will
make no comment, except to note his letter was prompted by the same
story that unleashed the river of Armenian venom. Here it is:
Dear Editor,
I have noticed a persistent anti-Turkish, pro-Armenian slant in your
reporting in the past few years. Latest scandal is the Emit (sic)
Enginsoy article where he presents his comments (or gut feelings)
as facts to unsuspecting readers. I can add to this the ironical,
subtle, but nevertheless disconcerting, pro-PKK and anti-Turkish
coverage of late.
I cannot help but ask myself if perhaps the TDN came under the
domination of Armenian lobbyists, Kurdish nationalists, and liberals
with anti-Turkish leanings, not unlike the New York Times, Boston
Globe, and Los Angeles Times.
Should I be concerned about TDN being the new tool of the anti-Turkish
lobbies?
Sincerely,
Ergun KIRLIKOVALI
President-Elect, ATAA
One of my editors did a bit of research. Apparently Kırlıkovalı
is legit. He really is soon to be the head of the largest Turkish
lobby in the United States. And he really thinks me and my band of
50 Turkish journalists are out to get him? Guess so.
As I explained to Mine, this is frustrating when all you want from
life is just to be liked. I asked her what she thought I should do. "I
think you should give them all presents," she responded.
Like what, I asked. "Well, you could put coupons in the newspaper. As
soon as anyone collects 59 coupons, you could give them a new
Volkswagen." I actually suspect Mine's proposal might work. It would,
however, be tough for a money-sucking "sponge" to sell the idea to
his CFO.
Mine came back with another idea. She suggested I send everyone a
copy of a CD by Emre Aydın. It's sort of rock with a 70s beat that
she found for me on a trip to Ä°stinye Park with my wife.
I am not sure I can send copies to everyone who thinks ill of me. But
I will get a copy in the mail to Kırlıkovalı. And also to Giro
Manoyan. And to Dinos Plassaras, if I can find an address.
Mine thinks they will like track 6, "Kim dokunduysa sana, ona git." I
suspect not. Focus on track 10 I will tell them: "Dayan Yalnızlıgı."
They can all meet up on our Web site and sort out translation among
themselves.
Me, I just want to finish another game of chess with Mine. I know
she likes me. And she likes my stories. If you are in the newspaper
business, that's all that counts.
* David Judson is the editor-in-chief of the Hurriyet Daily News
David Judson
Hurriyet
Friday, January 29, 2010
In one of several encounters over the years with the psychiatrist's
couch (the first was when I was nine or 10), the good doctor offered
the appraisal that I was in the wrong business. In his estimation I
suffered from what he called "high approval needs." Translation: I
like to be liked. Why this is a flaw, and moreover one to be fixed at
the rate of $150 an hour, remains a mystery to me. But at the time of
the conversation I was willing to entertain his suggestion that people
in my condition are not suited for the newspaper business. Lots of
people don't like newspapers or newspapermen. They think, write and say
nasty things about them. This hurts. And it takes some getting used to.
This week, losing a game of chess to my visiting 10-year-old niece
Mine, for some reason I found myself chuckling over the chat with the
shrink years ago. "If only he could see me now," I muttered, speaking
really to no one. But 10-year-olds, particularly ones who are devils
at chess, pick up on odd things. She wanted to know who "he" was and
why I was laughing to myself. Then she joyfully nailed a bishop.
"Well, I am awfully glad you seem to enjoy my company," I offered. And
then I sought to explain.
I left out the part about running a small newspaper that is part of
a larger journalistic war for survival. On several fronts. I omitted
the recent attempt at humor on the front page of a Turkish language
newspaper hinting that I actually work for the CIA. I skipped over
such details as the CFO of my company calling me a "sponge" this week
in the presence of a dozen others. Yes, I know I lose a lot of money.
Details of a pending reorganization of the newsroom, the
inevitable anger and stress did not seem to interest her. She had,
of course, heard of the political firestorm enveloping Turkey called
"Sledgehammer." Thankfully, the roundups of alleged Kurdish terrorists
and al-Qaeda members in the east had escaped her attention. I mumbled
a little bit about disputes over how to handle all this that arose in
the course of the week. I added something about my loss of newsroom
fans over my decision to make desperate Haiti the cover of our culture
supplement, City Brief. Mine was more interested in pointing out a
rule in chess that you cannot move the same piece successively more
than three times. (I did not know this).
I did spot some empathy when I complained of the headaches of the
Internet. Mine, you see, has her own Facebook account. And she
seemed to think my dilemmas would be eased if I signed up for MSN
Messenger, which she offered to do for me. I declined. This part of our
conversation, however, somehow summoned from the recesses of memory
a book called, "A Wrinkle in Time," by Madeleine L'Engle. We were on
to a new round of chess, so I tried to recount the book I read when
I was about her age. I forget the storyline but I do recall it had
something to do with the effort to enable faster-than-light travel
enabled by something called "tesseract." Tesseract was pretty complex
stuff for me back then. Much like the Internet is now. Mine promised
she'd read "Wrinkle" if I can find it in Turkish.
But what finally, to my loser's relief, got Mine to set aside the
chessboard was when I got to the hate mail. She wanted all the
details. She didn't get them all, of course. But I did explain
the flood after our story by Umit Enginsoy on the role of angry
Armenians in a recent local election in Massachusetts. Most thought
this disparaging, deceitful and the result of an "anti-Armenian,"
or in some cases, a "conspiratorial" mind. It was a little thinner
on sourcing than is usually the case with Umit, one of the Daily
News' most thorough reporters. But the fault is mine. I asked for
it on the shortest of notice. When you can't give reporters a day
off, you can allow for the off day. And Umit did do a good job of
sorting through the case being made for his thesis by Armenians in
Massachusetts themselves.
There was the usual stuff that comes in from Greece, my being an
apologist for Turkish barbarity and the like. I was an anti-Semite
at least twice, a syncophant for Hamas at least once. One bitter
complaint from Yerevan I concluded was reasonable. A headline twisted
a call for renewed urgency in peacemaking into an implied threat of
war. We also identified the Dashnak political party, a member of the
Socialist International, as "far right." Ultranationalist, certainly.
But "far right?" Not synonymous. Just after I lost my second knight
to a 10-year-old, I get a journalistic checkmate from Yerevan. The
writer had me. I did what I could and hereby apologize.
But the week's real gem came from somebody named Ergun Kırlıkovalı,
who lives in California and is "President-Elect" of ATAA. This is
the acronym for the Assembly of Turkish American Associations. I will
make no comment, except to note his letter was prompted by the same
story that unleashed the river of Armenian venom. Here it is:
Dear Editor,
I have noticed a persistent anti-Turkish, pro-Armenian slant in your
reporting in the past few years. Latest scandal is the Emit (sic)
Enginsoy article where he presents his comments (or gut feelings)
as facts to unsuspecting readers. I can add to this the ironical,
subtle, but nevertheless disconcerting, pro-PKK and anti-Turkish
coverage of late.
I cannot help but ask myself if perhaps the TDN came under the
domination of Armenian lobbyists, Kurdish nationalists, and liberals
with anti-Turkish leanings, not unlike the New York Times, Boston
Globe, and Los Angeles Times.
Should I be concerned about TDN being the new tool of the anti-Turkish
lobbies?
Sincerely,
Ergun KIRLIKOVALI
President-Elect, ATAA
One of my editors did a bit of research. Apparently Kırlıkovalı
is legit. He really is soon to be the head of the largest Turkish
lobby in the United States. And he really thinks me and my band of
50 Turkish journalists are out to get him? Guess so.
As I explained to Mine, this is frustrating when all you want from
life is just to be liked. I asked her what she thought I should do. "I
think you should give them all presents," she responded.
Like what, I asked. "Well, you could put coupons in the newspaper. As
soon as anyone collects 59 coupons, you could give them a new
Volkswagen." I actually suspect Mine's proposal might work. It would,
however, be tough for a money-sucking "sponge" to sell the idea to
his CFO.
Mine came back with another idea. She suggested I send everyone a
copy of a CD by Emre Aydın. It's sort of rock with a 70s beat that
she found for me on a trip to Ä°stinye Park with my wife.
I am not sure I can send copies to everyone who thinks ill of me. But
I will get a copy in the mail to Kırlıkovalı. And also to Giro
Manoyan. And to Dinos Plassaras, if I can find an address.
Mine thinks they will like track 6, "Kim dokunduysa sana, ona git." I
suspect not. Focus on track 10 I will tell them: "Dayan Yalnızlıgı."
They can all meet up on our Web site and sort out translation among
themselves.
Me, I just want to finish another game of chess with Mine. I know
she likes me. And she likes my stories. If you are in the newspaper
business, that's all that counts.
* David Judson is the editor-in-chief of the Hurriyet Daily News