Why I hate listening to 'Serial' - but I won't stop

Serial, the latest podcast spin-off of This American Life hosted by producer Sarah Koenig, should be commended for what it is: An extremely well-researched, smartly edited look at an irresistible crime story.


But it lacks the context that makes its parent program such a mainstay of the public radio culture and what elevates crime reporting from a simple recitation of facts (disputed or not) to what it can and should be – a means to question our values and morals, and to shine light on how we treat those in our society who we've decided should be stripped of their rights.


Perhaps it's unfair to judge Serial at this point, just five episodes in to its first season in an endeavor that is obviously different from the Ira Glass-hosted juggernaut. But the program hinges upon your shared curiosity with Koenig, whereas the best pieces of journalism go beyond a reporter's curiosity to hit on themes of what it means to be human. It's no small coincidence that This American Life chooses themes each week, in the oft-repeated catchphrase of Glass, and brings you different stories on that theme. The effect is similar to reading the entirety of a page of a newspaper, I think. We're forced to think about how things we've learned work together and inform the world around us.


Serial is told entirely within the world of Adnan Syed, Hae Min Lee and a relatively small set of supporting characters from around Baltimore. Aside from a few brief and tantalizing clips in the episode exploring Syed and Lee's romantic relationship, issues of race, socioeconomic background and religion are largely played down for Koenig to narratively unfold her reporting. It's an addictive, yet reductive, way to tell a story, especially when you consider we're basically listening to the same pretrial occurrences each and every week, told in a different way.


I'm currently reading “Invention of Murder: How the VictoriansReveled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime” by Judith Flanders. The book's ambling thesis is this: As humans, we're morbidly fascinated with death, especially when it has to do with the young, love and passion. We've got all three ingredients in Serial, and while Koenig does a more-than-admirable job of presenting the tale, I can't shake the feeling – in the first five episodes at least – she's painting by numbers, following a storytelling formula that's been beaten to death in paperback fiction piling up in used book stores.



I hope she and her team prove me wrong as the podcast progresses, because I will say I am hopelessly hooked like so many others. But when I'm done listening, I feel more like I've scarfed down a fast food meal than dug in to a meaty storytelling experience.

A Place You Never Thought You'd Be

I don't like the idea of using a blog solely for the purpose of personal narrative. To me, a web log should be an outlet to explore ideas and practice the skill of persuasive or argumentative writing. You should always have a point, and you should arrive at it rather quickly in a decisive and satisfying manner.

Of course, sometimes we break the rules to prove a point, or to do something we couldn't possibly have done if we allowed ourselves to become prisoners of habit.

So, I feel the need to explain the reason for the lack of posting on this blog over the past couple of weeks. And the only way I can do that is to destroy the persona and speak to you, the reader, as plainly as I can. Part of the reason I haven't posted here has been technological constraints. My internet service was just hooked up yesterday here in Columbia and I'd been mooching bandwidth from the neighborhood Hy-Vee. You can only refill your coffee cup so many times before that kitchen attendant starts to wonder if maybe you're a transient beatnik poet who's decided to fuel his next cross-country masterpiece with Caribou and crab rangoon. I blame my long hair more than anything.

But I could have posted at Hy-Vee or any other free wi-fi spot I happened to stumble into over the past several weeks. The real reason I didn't post was much more complicated than that. This isn't where I thought I'd be four or five years ago. And, to be honest, it extends beyond the whole Kansas fan selling his soul conundrum. If it was just that, I'd have torched my new student I.D. card with the giant Bengal tiger staring me down and strutted down Broadway with my KU National Champions '08 shirt a long time ago.

No, this is more of an existential concern of mine. I know I want to be a journalist. I'm excited that I have a skill set that I believe will prove useful in informing the public and serving a basic civic function within a democratic society. I know all of that. I knew that when I applied here last fall, and when I made plans to attend here last spring.

Proust said that the individual is never whole or unified, but merely a succession of selves throughout time. The idea implies progress--or, at the very least, some sort of constant evolution in our personality and consciousness. Sometimes, when I find myself in a place I never thought I'd be, doing something completely different than what I've done before, I can't help but wonder if that succession of selves must always build toward something, or if we float around on the whims of a moment and where we end up, be it pre-ordained by a benevolent force or not, is unquestioningly what we are meant to do.

Tomorrow, I officially begin my education at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of Missouri. I'm excited, nervous, but most of all curious.

It's hard to write about video games, TV and what kind of violent circus is being held in the Kansas City Chiefs locker room with all that floating around in your head. But I promise to try. Stay tuned to the Shallow End, it's going to be an interesting fall.