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How people consume news and take actions based on what they read, hear or see, is different than how human brains process other types of information on a daily basis, according to researchers at the University of Missouri School of Journalism. While the current state of the newspaper industry is in flux, these journalism experts discovered people still love reading newspapers, and they believe a newspaper s physical layout and structure could help curators of digital news platforms enhance their users experiences. Many people still love print newspapers, and to an extent, we also see that they like the digital replicas of print newspapers as much as they do the physical version, said Damon Kiesow, a professor of journalism professions and co-author on the study. But we believe there is more to understanding this notion than just simply habit and experience. We feel newspapers are fulfilling some sort of need in a person s daily life that is not currently being effect
University of Missouri-Columbia
How people consume news and take actions based on what they read, hear or see, is different than how human brains process other types of information on a daily basis, according to researchers at the University of Missouri School of Journalism. While the current state of the newspaper industry is in flux, these journalism experts discovered people still love reading newspapers, and they believe a newspaper’s physical layout and structure could help curators of digital news platforms enhance their users’ experiences.
“Many people still love print newspapers, and to an extent, we also see that they like the digital replicas of print newspapers as much as they do the physical version,” said Damon Kiesow, a professor of journalism professions and co-author on the study. “But we believe there is more to understanding this notion than just simply habit and experience. We feel newspapers are fulfilling some sort of need in a person’s daily life t
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Along the portion of Interstate 70 that runs through Missouri, yellow rocket swarmed the roadside, redbuds laid magenta feathers against the stolid pines and green-misted treetops framed mile after mile of farmland the glittering silos and the black cows, the sudden absolute red of an American barn inevitably followed by a white house with a green roof nestled under a few shade trees amid fields either fallow or plowed.
Driving this road recently, my throat thickened and throbbed. For a moment I thought it was in response to the simple wonder of seeing spring rising from the heartland, gracious and inevitable, even after this terrible year. Then I looked at my son, in the front seat, and remembered that I am a mother and mothers always cry at a child’s graduation, even when that graduation is small, masked, socially distant and a year too late.