[PHOTO] Garbage Bin at Bloor and Spadina
Jul. 10th, 2009 09:11 amThanks to
dark_age_gal for suggesting this subject for photography. Isn't the strike so photogenic?
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As I mention in the post on Crooked Timber (as an update in the comments), the particulars of the sample (that both age and educational level of the respondents is close to constant) likely means that the findings are more conservative than if you had a more diverse sample. That is, if we're going to see socioeconomic status differences (measured here by parental education) even among this group then we're likely to see even larger such differences if we had people from more diverse backgrounds.
Any true Chinatown is an experience for all senses. You smell a concoction of everything from live fish, cardboard boxes full of bok choy, to whiffs of barbecue-sauced pork. You hear the grocery store workers boast of discounts in thick rural Chinese accents, and you see an array of amateur signage in a jumbled assortment of colours and languages. We walk through the intersection of Broadview and Gerrard often, passing by without a second glance. Chinatown is Chinatown, we think to ourselves. But take a closer look into East Chinatown, and you’ll realize that although signs may be up, the interiors are largely empty—reminiscent of what was once a much livelier neighbourhood.
You’ll begin to notice the shops that are left. These mostly tend to be grocery stores and Vietnamese restaurants. The ones that aren’t Vietnamese have remained relatively unchanged for over a decade.
The tale of East Chinatown is one of decline that accelerated ten years ago during Toronto’s bid for the 2008 summer Olympic games. Proposals to build the Olympic village near East Chinatown raised its surrounding property values. But as we all know, in 2001, Toronto lost that bid to Beijing; and in turn, down went the property values until the development of the film studios by the southern Portlands. As land value rose again, the Chinese living in the community took the opportunity to sell their houses for more than double what they originally bought them for and with the returns moved up north amongst the new generation of established Hong Kong immigrants.
Today, you don’t have to go to a Chinatown to get kai lan (Chinese broccoli) or Hoisin sauce. They can be found in T&T Supermarkets or smaller chains of Chinese grocers all across the city. Even some Western grocery stores may stock a good amount of specialized Asian food ingredients.
While the demographic of the surrounding area has changed, the stores largely have not. The newer Chinese generation, the few that are left in the area, are more attracted to the clean and friendly T&T Supermarket on Cherry Street. Many of the new residents that have since moved in have no interest in pirated Hong Kong television dramas, or phone cards, or kai lan. They’re also given an array of food options outside the immediate area that are in direct competition with East Chinatown. They can eat on the Danforth. They can dine, drink espressos and visit galleries on the gentrifying Queen Street East. Or they can drop by the renovated stores at Gerrard Square. For many who walk through East Chinatown, it’s not their intended destination, but the in-between transition zone to a destination.
[S]urely the activity of these blogs--let alone their present inactivity--has never been of any real consequence.
Apart from a very small percentage which are informative, original or entertaining, they have little or no value. They are vanity publishing, only made feasible by the removal of costs.
The fact that their creators appear to be giving up on them is hardly surprising, given the amount of time they take to write, to discover and to read. Only a tiny proportion of any working population has this time to spare.
Worthwhile blogs--and there are many of them around--tend, according to my own anecdotal evidence, to be linked to well-known organisations able to provide time and resources, or they have become professional concerns in their own right.
They are also now far more easily discovered, thanks to websites such as Twitter, which enable filtering and highlighting of links to relevant content, according to users’ set criteria.
[R]ecently--over the past six months--I've noticed a new trend: fewer blogs with links, and fewer with any contextual comment. (I'm defining a blog here as an individual site, whether on Blogger or Wordpress or an individual domain, with regular entries.) Some weeks, apart from the splogs, there would be hardly anything. I didn't think we'd suddenly become dull. Nor was it for want of searching: mining for blog comments, I use Icerocket.com. Technorati.com and Google's Blogsearch.
Where is everybody? Anecdotally and experimentally, they've all gone to Facebook, and especially Twitter. At least with Twitter, one can search for comments via backtweets.com--though it's still quite rare for people to make a comment on a piece in a tweet; more usually it's a "retweet", echoing the headline. The New York Times also noticed this trend, with a piece on 9 June about "Blogs Falling In An Empty Forest", which pointed to Technorati's 2008 survey of the state of the blogosphere, which found that only 7.4m out of the 133m blogs it tracks had been updated in the past 120 days. As the New York Times put it, "that translates to 95% of blogs being essentially abandoned".
I see it: NetNewsWire, my RSS feed reader, has nearly 500 feeds. When one of them hasn't been updated for 60 days, it turns brown, like a plant dying for lack of water. More and more of the feeds I follow are turning brown. Why? Because blogging isn't easy. More precisely, other things are easier--and it's to easier things that people are turning.