It’s often been said that the Melbourne Age’s world ends with the tramlines. Beyond is “Here be monsters” territory.
As its budgets, staff numbers, relevance and readership collapse, however, the borders of Age-world appear to be closing in too.
Here’s this morning’s coverage of the fire yesterday in Melbourne’s west that left half of the city blanketed in toxic smoke:
You’ll note that’s it’s reported as a bushfire, even though it occurred only 10 kilometres from The Age’s much-mortgaged Docklands home and a brisk stroll of less than 30 minutes west from oh-so-trendy Yarraville, home of fair trade decaf almond milk latte drinkers and Fairfaxistas who are swarming across the old industrial suburbs west of the Yarra (although they frequently complain about the working port alongside them, despite it having arrived first some 180 years ago).
So, if The Age now decrees the bush begins somewhere like a mere eight kilometres from its bunker, something serious is happening.
This shrinking of Age-world is not just a matter for media watchers. It should be a subject of public concern.
The Age is clearly collapsing inwards, black hole style.
When it reaches critical mass in, oh, December, when the Channel Nine takeover is official, will it take us all with it?
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