Mano E Mano: The Editorialiste meets "The Editorialist"

Dear Rob Anderson,

We've got to talk. This new blog, "The Editorialist"? I must admit, I'm feeling a little snuffed. I spend my time, my blood, my sweat, and hyperlinks to analyze the grassroots movement and often throw in my opinion - editorializing, so to speak - to fill a niche market and my desire to write when freelancing in New York doesn't pay the bills. But then I read on IWantMedia that you've got better ideas. In fact, your idea is so good, so original, that you're gonna launch it with The Washington Post. Without an "e."

Ouch.

All for an "e," Rob? I'm hurt. This was just Valentine's Day! Where's the saccharine love?

Sure, your blog covers op-eds, and mine covers the components of a changing industry. Sure, I write this on my own unpaid time living below the poverty line and you write this commanding health benefits and a prestigious masthead. But Rob, baby - what's a blogger to do when you hijack his name for use in mainstream media? And nary a link to me in sight!

Robby, you're pushing me ever farther into the fringe media, the netroots, the blogging jungle. And you, that lovely mainstream media, get all the credit for being "cool," "with it," "hip." And most times, I'm with you on that - sometimes you MSM people need to loosen up a little, and I like seeing you walk around with iPod nanos and podcasting and all of that. You're really getting with it; good for you. But why did you have to steal a poor blogger's thunder?

Tell me - was it your editor's idea?

After all, what if the L.A. Times started "DailyDose" or the Chicago Tribune started "Gonzette" or the Philadelphia Inquirer started "Talker" or the Wall Street Journal started "Bizmodo"? Would that be cool?

No. Not cool at all, Robert.

There are plenty of freelancers who get their ideas copped by their editors. But a blog? That's low. Surely WaPo HR has room for a young blogger - who by day is actually is a living, breathing, ethical, hard-working journalist! - who needs a regular paycheck to support his pipe dreams of, you know, life stability in an era where higher education equates with Mercedes-Benz and it takes 40 (yes, 40!) times my $2000 rent to live where I went to school...a block from the projects.

You know, instead of ganking his calling card. I'm running out of PB&J for lunch, you know.

In the face of adversity, Nick Denton would be asking for his acid martinis extra-shaken. But me? Well, let's just say that I'll be writing with a stiff upper lip.

A blogger scorned. It's on, Anderson.