Gstaad
One thing is certain, perception and reality sure are different, and we have the not-so-new peekaboo journalism of Rupert Murdoch to thank for it. The internet, of course, is the wild west of the Fourth Estate, but, thank God, I don’t know how to read it and even if I knew I wouldn’t. It is a dark new world. Slander for money, although no one really gets paid. Blogging, reading politically racy websites, texting by cellphone, it’s all Latin to the poor little Greek boy.
What it is is satisfying to the masses. Everyone now feels like a journalist, a profession that my father warned me against and even Charles Moore once admitted to me was one notch above that of child molester. (He was kidding, but not too much.) But there’s a problem. Hundreds of thousands if not millions of new bloggers the world over are playing at being hacks, yet have not managed to trigger the slightest change in the way the world is run.
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