In reply to Jason's post: I absolutely agree that cable TV and the Internet are in cahoots. Yes, cable has the bigger megaphone, but the Internet now serves as its giant research engine. Basically the cable talk shows are watching the Internet chatter every day and plucking out the stories that seem most provocative. Their coverage then feeds back into the system the following day, and the story might gain more momentum, especially if some detail or development can be added onto it; if so, then perhaps the cable shows run with it again. Eventually the story will recede online, and the cable news shows will stop hitting it -- sometimes in that order, sometimes the other way around.

In general, I think we're almost at the point that it doesn't really make sense to differentiate between mainstream and Internet media, at least in terms of their broad cultural effects. This is, in part, because the mainstream institutions have now completely embraced the new media, throwing themselves wholesale into blogging, Twittering, etc. But also -- way more importantly -- mainstream outlets now look at the Internet as the greatest (i.e., easiest) source of wisdom about What's Really Happening in the world.

This is obviously true in politics. The Internet where the activists and wonks are talking, and so if you cover politics for a newspaper, or produce segments for a cable show, you're going to watch the Web as your bellwether for the newest political developments. But really, it's true across the board, for reporting on anything in the culture. Look at a lot of newspaper lifestyle reporting these days; they're finding their anecdotal examples through online communities. The "man on the street" has been replaced by the "man on the comment thread." And why not -- I mean, who wants to go out in the street, anyway?! There are ugly people there!

So even if the large institutions still have more power, on balance, in spreading narratives, I'd argue it's the dynamics of the Internet that are now determining what's actually being spread. In the book, I do an interview with John Harris and Jim VandeHei of The Politico, and let me quote part of it here:

"One of the insights Jim and I had over at the [Washington] Post," Harris told me, "was that if you look at the most-emailed stories, it tells you whether you're succeeding or not." He meant succeeding not just as journalists but as provokers of conversation. "Somebody sends that story in email: 'Hey, did you read this?' 'Check this out.' 'This an interesting point.' 'This is bullshit.' Somebody is engaging with that story." And despite the Web's reputation for sensationalism, the stories on the most-emailed list were, he added, "the ones that we were most proud of. They were the ones that were the most serious, original, enterprising."

Harris and VandeHei began to ask themselves: Why aren't we doing that more often? Why, in Harris's words, "are we printing so many boring stories? Why are we doing so much obligatory duty coverage?" As an example of this latter, dutiful variety of story, VandeHei mentioned the classic pseudo-event: a presidential press conference. At major newspapers like the Post, he said, "you feel this sense of obligation to lead your newspaper the next day with a story about what Bush said at the press conference, even if he didn't say anything that was all that revelatory, and despite the fact that it's pretty damn stale: most news consumers have not only consumed it, they've digested it and moved on."

He contrasted this with a recent Politico story that, he noted, the Post did not touch, that "ten years ago would have been confined to the inside pages of Roll Call": the revelation that Rep. Loretta Sanchez (D., Calif.) had quit the Congressional Hispanic Caucus and alleged that its chairman, Rep. Joe Baca (D., Calif.), had called her a "whore." This story, VandeHei said, was "a perfect example of how media has changed. We put it upfront early on the webpage. Instantly it's linked to by Drudge and all the other blogs; Fox News is doing a story based on it; MSNBC is doing a story based on it; and then the next day, on the Colbert Report, he does twenty minutes on 'whore.' So you have just, from this perch, been able to reach significantly more people than I would have reached even at the Washington Post." The challenge for The Politico, he said, is "figuring out how to put things into that pipeline."

Now, VandeHei didn't say this last part in a cynical way, and I honestly don't think he thought he was being cynical. Look about it from a traditional newspaper editor's point of view: after decades of television, where the American public seemed to become increasingly less interested in the details of politics, the Internet suddenly brings together a giant, engaged audience that really cares about the day-to-day intricacies and intrigues.

Most-emailed and most-blogged stories aren't always the sensationalist stories; sometimes they're gaffes and scandals, yes, but sometimes they're serious developments or investigations. In short, they're the nanostories.

On some level, I suppose we should be inspired to see people engaging so passionately with political news, even if sometimes that news is about one member of Congress calling another a "whore." But -- apropos of my last post -- I do hope that a counterweight can develop, either online or offline, against the nanostory-making machine.