What is the hottest item dominating the domestic media scene now? It is neither the largest-circulating Chosun Ilbo nor the public broadcaster KBS but an audio podcast named ``Naneun Ggomsuda (I am a petty trickster),” the nation’s first President-bashing lampoon.
Not many people might know it but the Internet talk show, better known by its abbreviation of ``Naggomsu,” received the Democratic Journalism Award from the National Union of Media Workers last week.
The journalists’ union gives the award to individuals or organizations that made the greatest contribution to democratizing the nation’s media industry in a year. So its selection of Naggomsu’s as the recipient for 2011 was not a small incident for those in the journalism sector nor for the rest of society.
True, Naggomsu has been enjoying explosive popularity since its debut eight months ago with pungent criticism and satires of not only President Lee Myung-bak but also large conservative media and even lethargic political opposition, especially among those in their 20s to 40s. But few media people probably imagined the union’s award would go to non-journalists this year.
It means the media union acknowledged the accomplishment of this new program, which broke all existing concepts in both format and content.
Especially noticeable is its content. Americans accustomed to Saturday Night Live or Harvard Lampoon would find little that’s innovative in the non-stop chats and giggles targeting mostly the chief executive and his cronies. For Koreans, especially younger ones who can’t find outlets to vent their anger from dismal economic and social situations, the unrestrained lampoon comes as the greatest refresher. Its followers reach 6 million, larger than the readers of the three biggest conservative papers combined.
The four-member talk show demonstrated its influence in the Seoul mayoral election last month. Without Naggomsu’s encouragement of young voters to hit the polls, the little known activist-turned-opposition candidate couldn’t have beaten his more articulate and glamorous opponent from the governing party. And without the talk show’s exposure of President Lee’s secretive land purchase for a retirement home and the ruling party candidate’s frequenting of a prohibitive beauty shop, the occupant of the mayor’s office today could have been someone else.
In a more desirable situation, journalists should have made such revelations. But they have failed to do so for some reason or other. This is why the established media had better attack Naggomsu as just some rumor mill of sorts.
Particularly, the conservative papers should reflect on themselves, pondering whether they have been faithful in their foremost duty of checking those in power or studying the faces of the powerful elite in expectations of some gifts in return for silence, such as broadcasting licenses.
Of course, Naggomsu, too, leaves much to be desired as a media format.
For the podcast to continue to serve as a more trusted media, it needs to rethink its one-sided ideological partialness, refine its expressions and most of all, filter unverified allegations.
The Lee administration should shake off temptations to suppress the program and its participants from political motivations. After all, it is the government, and the overly strict media policy it adheres to which pulled down the nation’s press freedom, from free to partially free, contributing most to the show’s birth and popularity.
Just join the audience, laugh with them and listen to their demands. Better still, don’t provide the fodder to be a laughing stock in the first place.