Here is part of your response,  in which you basically say the audience doesn’t get it, but never for a moment thinking that maybe you are the one who doesn’t get it:

Normally I’d want the work to speak for itself — normally I’d not want to explain jokes, or short stories, or a piece of non-fiction that we publish — people always read things the way they’re going to read them. In this case, since I see that it’s stirred the pot somewhat, and some people have misinterpreted it very quickly…

You add:

The fact is, it’s not a satire about Obama – it’s a satire about the distortions and misconceptions and prejudices about Obama.

To get an idea of the range and depth of the discussion you are dismissing, see Richard Prince’s Journal-isms column at the Maynard Institute. And if you really want to see political satire in a cartoon look at Mike Luckovich’s cartoon of Jesse Jackson at the same site. It is enormously humorous based on reality, not some Drudged-up, manufactured slime. Prince, by the way, writes of the New Yorker cover:

What makes this piece of satire unusual is that the objects of the satire — those who are distorting the Obamas’ personas — aren’t pictured. Instead, the Obamas are shown.

That’s Prince’s polite way of saying that many of the audience members think you have helped Drudge-up the relentless slime that is being used against Obama and his wife as a way of slithering around true political discourse. This New Yorker cover rather than ignoring that slime factory or exposing it has only added to it with this iconic image.

The other argument I see out there is that you and the New Yorker are too cowardly to do the same to the Right — for example running a cover cartoon of a drooling John McCain in wheelchair being pushed by Karl Rove or Dick Cheney in an old people’s home with President Bush — not in a turban — but in a dunce cap in a portrait in the background.  I do believe the Left would find it amusing, excellent satire because it speaks to an exaggeration grounded at least in part in truth. And the Right, rightfully so, would be running about screaming foul.

Also I notice that others in the media who defend you and other journalists at all costs, have written this audience criticism off as left-wing hysteria. For example, Gary Kamiya at Salon proves that Rush Limbaugh was right by using the language that has been invented by the slimemeisters. Look at the catch phrases Kamiya uses to make this argument, in which he dismisses any audience argument:

• witnessing the left-wing blogosphere’s bizarre reaction
• Vast swaths of the left
•  the cowering — but oh so semiotically sophisticated — left-wing commentariat
• The more brain-dead among the posters on left-wing blogs angrily denounce
• Some on the left, however, are so terrified that Americans
• the left’s reaction
• What next — riots in the left-wing blogosphere
• The magazine’s left-wing critics, understandably scared (and perhaps deafened)

 So there we are, the audience as usual, when it voices angry complaint is hysterical, brain-dead  or simply not smart enough nor sophisticated enough to comprehend the wisdom of journalists big and small like you and Kamiya.

Of all the things I have read and heard about the torture in Iraq’s Abu Ghraib prison — from the ignorant rantings of the blowhard Rush Limbaugh agreeing with a caller that it was no harsher than a fraternity prank to the Bush administration’s defense of the practices to all the stories and debates —  nothing, not even the photographs, have struck me as hard as reading the letters that Harman wrote to her partner stateside. Here they are from the New Yorker article. Remember as you read this she is not a squeamish person, indeed, you might define her as a bit ghoulish, so it makes her words here even more poignant.  

Kelly,
The lights went out in the prison so here we were in the dark—in the prison. I have watch of the 18 and younger boys. I hear, misses! Misses! I go downstairs and flash my light on this 16 year old sitting down with his sandal smacking ants. Now these ants are Iraqi ants, LARGE! So large they could carry the family dog away while giving you the finger! LARGE. And this poor boy is being attacked by hundreds. All the ants in the prison came to this one boys cell and decided to take over. All I could do was spray Lysol. The ants laughed at me and kept going. So here we were the boy on one side of the cell and me on the other in the dark with one small flashlight beating ants with our shoes. . . . Poor kids. Those ants even Im scared of.

So that was the start of my shift. They’ve been stripping “the fucked up” prisoners and handcuffing them to the bars. Its pretty sad. I get to laugh at them and throw corn at them. I kind of feel bad for these guys even if they are accused of killing US soldiers. We degrade them but we don’t hit and thats a plus even though Im sure they wish we’d kill them. They sleep one hour then we yell and wake them—make them stay up for one hour, then sleep one hour—then up etc. This goes on for 72 hours while we fuck with them. Most have been so scared they piss on themselves. Its sad. It’s a little worst than Basic training ie: being naked and handcuffed. . . .

But pictures were taken, you have to see them! A sandbag was put over their heads while it was soaked in hot sauce. Okay, that’s bad but these guys have info, we are trying to get them to talk, that’s all, we don’t do this to all prisoners, just the few we have which is about 30-40 not many.
The othernight at 3, when I wrote you, the firefight . . . 3 killed 6 injured—Iraqis. . . .
Its time to wake them again!!!

And later that same day, on her next night shift, Harman wrote:

 

Oct 20, 03
10:40pm
Kelly,
Okay, I don’t like that anymore. At first it was funny but these people are going too far. I ended your letter last night because it was time to wake the MI prisoners and “mess with them” but it went too far even I can’t handle whats going on. I cant get it out of my head. I walk down stairs after blowing the whistle and beating on the cells with an asp to find “the taxicab driver” handcuffed backwards to his window naked with his underwear over his head and face. He looked like Jesus Christ. At first I had to laugh so I went on and grabbed the camera and took a picture. One of the guys took my asp and started “poking” at his dick. Again I thought, okay that’s funny then it hit me, that’s a form of molestation. You can’t do that. I took more pictures now to “record” what is going on. They started talking to this man and at first he was talking “I’m just a taxicab driver, I did nothing.” He claims he’d never try to hurt US soldiers that he picked up the wrong people. Then he stopped talking. They turned the lights out and slammed the door and left him there while they went down to cell #4. This man had been so fucked that when they grabbed his foot through the cell bars he began screaming and crying. After praying to Allah he moans a constant short Ah, Ah every few seconds for the rest of the night. I don’t know what they did to this guy. The first one remained handcuffed for maybe 1 ½-2 hours until he started yelling for Allah. So they went back in and handcuffed him to the top bunk on either side of the bed while he stood on the side. He was there for a little over an hour when he started yelling again for Allah. Not many people know this shit goes on. The only reason I want to be there is to get the pictures and prove that the US is not what they think. But I don’t know if I can take it mentally. What if that was me in their shoes. These people will be our future terrorist. Kelly, its awful and you know how fucked I am in the head. Both sides of me think its wrong. I thought I could handle anything. I was wrong.
Sabrina

Then back to the story again:

On Tier 1A, Harman liked to sneak cigarettes and doses of Tylenol or ibuprofen to prisoners who were being given a hard time. These small gestures gave her comfort, too, and it pleased her that prisoners sometimes turned to her for help. But Harman was generally as forgiving of her buddies as she was of herself. When toughness failed her, and niceness was not an option, Harman took refuge in denial. “That’s the only way to get through each day, is to start blocking things out,” she said. “Just forget what happened. You go to bed, and then you have the next day to worry about. It’s another day closer to home. Then that day’s over, and you just block that one out.” At the same time, she faulted herself for not being a more enthusiastic soldier when prisoners on Tier 1A were being given the business. When she was asked how other M.P.s could go at it without apparent inhibition, all she could say was “They’re more patriotic.”

As I have said, nothing is as strong an indictment as her own words. Then coupled with her own photos, the true picture of what happened in Abu Ghraib is all the more sad for a country that once prided itself on being on the side of human rights. Yet, for all the power of her words, which are more powerful than those of Philip Gourevitch and Errol Morris, who wrote the story, it required journalistic digging to put it all into perspective.

Indeed, that’s a lot of what this citizen journalism, we media talk is all about. It is a fine weaving of the personal and the professional into a higher grade of journalism. It can be done and must be done for us to better to understand who we are.

Any how, read the story, it is a great piece of journalism — and watch for Errol Morris’ documentary Standard Operating Procedure. Of course, the whole package, the New Yorker Story, all the video sidbars, make for the kind of multi-media package that most news organizations only dream of having, but apparently can have with a little more investment in time and money.

I only want to go to panels and read articles that search for, and have suggestions for, providing new ways of ensuring that we will have high quality, ethically sound journalism in the future. I want it to be better than what we have now and had in the past.

For example, in the article the author Eric Alterman laments that with the fall of newspaper journalism we will have:

…the loss of a single national narrative and agreed-upon set of “facts” by which to conduct our politics.  

My question is who has agreed upon the set of “facts” to which Alterman alludes. White, middle class, educated me probably, but what about all the poor and disenfranchised ethnic minorities that make up this country?  Do they agree with that single national narrative? Did they get to participate in how it was written? I would argue, given that the newsrooms  writing the narrative are still overwhelmingly white and certainly 100 percent well educated and middle to upper class, that a single national narrative might not be such a great idea in a pluaristic society.

We might be better off, when we find a way to pay for it –and I am trying to find a way with my Representative Journalism concept — to have many people writing from across the spectrum from many places as we collectively try to find a national narrative that belongs to all of us.