What draws us to the doom yet to arrive? CNN, pre-tsunami (in Hawaii), donates its screen time not to the already devastated areas of Chile (and elsewhere), but to the image of Hawaii’s beaches, from a distance, untouched, near-pristine. That’s the image that stays on the screen, the reporters anticipating–and building anticipation for us–the disaster waiting to happen. There’s a reason they show us this; if there wasn’t, they’d move on to something else, like Chile, where the proverbial shit has already hit the fan, or even New Zealand, where tsunami conditions have already arrived (and gone by the time this post hits the Inter-waves–pun intended). I suspect that our obsession with impending doom in the news is intricately linked with our love of dystopia in film and literature. The connection, I think, lies in our unwillingness to deal with reality–not in an absolute sense, but in a more immediate sense. Dystopias offer a way for us to see doom without facing it here on Earth, and without dealing with the immediacy of the doom that has already arrived. It is, perhaps, “safer” for our identities as human beings to imagine the end than to witness it firsthand. That’s not to say that we aren’t interested in the end, per se; we are, and, in fact, I imagine right now CNN is flooded with images of what may very well be the disaster of the week. But, our interest in disaster is not in the disaster itself, but in the leading up to it. The aftermath is an afterthought. There’s a hole in the argument, though. After all, we did focus so much attention on Haiti, where disaster had already struck before any focus was paid upon it. But this doesn’t apply for two reasons: 1. The disaster had already struck; there was no possibility for anticipation. 2. The disaster has slowly become less about the disaster itself and more about how the disaster can/could be turned into salvation. The controversial statement made by the unrepentant racist Pat Robertson (that this is a blessing in disguise) is, perhaps, not terribly far from the truth. Prior to the disaster, the international community had, largely speaking, paid little attention to Haiti, at least not in the capacity that it deserved. Yes, Haiti’s poverty was never a secret. Yes, there were organizations who put money and labor into helping Haiti prior to the disaster. But only after the disaster has Haiti received any considerable amount of attention and finances (and the promise thereof) to be used towards rebuilding the country. Yes, that very thought is a sick and disturbing one: that only after disaster do we provide legitimacy to the impoverished conditions of a nation that has been suffering the aftershocks of colonialism for centuries. The obsession continues, though. Whether or not Hawaii will (has) witnessed disaster, we are (were) fixated on our screens, witnessing the anticipatory moment, and in our free time, when we are/were not fixated, we pour(ed) our souls into the dystopic (not necessarily science fiction, but certainly dystopia in its non-speculative forms–what we might call “depressing” fiction). No wonder our ability to address the human issue at hand is deficient.

The great thing about podcasting is that just about anyone can do it. The bad thing about it is that a hell of a lot of people try it, but end up producing a product that is of low quality, even if top-quality equipment and top-notch audio editing skills are employed. Some of the below has been mentioned before, but I’ve extended the list and updated it to be more relevant and more clearly defined. Regardless, below are a few new and expanded ways to fail at podcasting. PodcrowdingBringing all your friends into the podcasting world isn’t a bad idea, in principle. But, there is such a thing as too many damned people on a podcast at one time. For the listener, having any more than three people in the same podcast is basically like trying to listen to twelve people in real life without getting confused or disoriented when person #10 interrupts #3, who is then interrupted by #5, who comments on something #7 said, who originally had responded to #8’s question after #10 and #9 said something to #4 and #2 about something #1 had said to #Z…I mean #6. See what I mean? Pull back. Three people is enough. It’s less confusing for you, less confusing for listeners, and certainly less confusing for any guests you might have. Podcrowding is a disaster waiting to happen. Listen to the podcasts that do this. Count how many minutes are wasted on things that have nothing to do with the actual podcast (i.e. the hosts being confused about who’s next to speak). PoddroningNot everyone has a voice for radio…err, podcasting. It’s not the kind of truth anyone wants to hear, but it’s the truth nonetheless. For me, one of the most annoying things any podcast can have is a host who is boring enough to put me to sleep. These hosts include people with monotone voices, people who take forever to say a simple sentence, people who are impossible to understand (possibly because they mumble), or people who simply have nothing interesting to say. Some of this can be fixed with practice; some of it can’t. Accept your limits, though. There’s nothing wrong with having a regular old blog. Sometimes your voice is best served by the written word. Don’t put your audience to sleep. PodrepeatingOne of my biggest beefs with the podcasting community is that it constantly repeats itself, particularly in the fiction aspect. I’ve stopped listening to a number of podcasts because they stopped being about fresh content and instead became devoted to being a platform for plugging other “big names” in the podcasting world. The thing is, most of what was a novelty about podcasting went out of fashion almost two years ago. It’s not “new” anymore, and anyone doing a podcast isn’t doing something that hasn’t been done before (unless you’re actually doing something new with the form, which is something to note). Podcasting has become, in some circles, a giant circlejerk. For some listeners, like myself, it’s a podkiller. Even if the repeat offenders have something new to plug, they often repeat some of the same things they said the last time. It makes for some rather dull content. PodpluggingIf a podcast is about you, then it should be clearly defined as such. Mur Lafferty, for example, makes it damn clear that her podcast is about her (though she has branched out to include interviews with authors and the like). Unless your podcast is actually about you, however, don’t use it as a secret way to plug yourself. Why? It’s frakking annoying. If you do interviews with authors, then make sure the interviews are about them. When you start trying to relate everything to yourself, it not only irritates, but makes you look like a self-centered jackass. If you want to talk about yourself, then make a podcast about yourself; otherwise, don’t waste the listener’s time. PodologizingWhen every single podcast you release begins or ends with you apologizing for something you failed to do in relation to the podcast, then there is a problem. Occasionally apologizing is perfectly acceptable; all of us have time constraints, personal problems, and the like that can get in the way with an extracurricular activity like podcasting. Still, if you’re going to promise something, and then never deliver, then you need to reassess your podcast model. Apologizing for some failure on your part every single time is both annoying and also drawing attention to the fact that you kind of suck. Either get with the program, or change the way you do things. Leave the apologizing to truly unexpected issues. Now I want to know what you think is a quick way to fail miserably at podcasting. What has annoyed you in the past?