What is it about us, about the U.S., that makes us blood-seeking missiles? A less polite way of saying that is blood-sucking missiles. We’re obsessed with non-stop, endlessly redundant media coverage of Grand Guignol current events: years of uncontested child molestation at Penn State; a suburban movie theater turned bloodthirsty horror show on the wrong side of the screen.
The Media eats this stuff up. Not the depravity of the events themselves, but the opportunity to “connect” with an expanded, rapt audience. Viewers will tune in more readily, fairly salivating for another morsel of insight into why these things happen, how victims’ families cope, what survivors have to say, and what will happen to the perpetrators.
I’m one of those viewers, those news junkies. I’m no different in that way, I’m afraid. It’s human drama writ larger than we normally witness, thank goodness. Though the catalyst is unspeakable, the stories that ensue of heroism and (literally) undying love for another easily bring tears to the eyes, mine included. The good that men and women do also is chronicled before our eyes, and serves as a necessary antidote to the droning moans of misery that underscore the surreality show.
