2003-06-28|9:42 p.m.
In my email box sits my daily news from CNN�s internet news-page. The main headline? �Woman gets 50 years for windshield death.� I�m sure that just about everyone has heard about it. My close circle of people whom I interact regularly with has made sure that I�ve heard about it several times (they meant well). It was plastered all over every news station on television.
�Can you believe she�d do that?� we said.
A even watched the footage of them reading her the sentence of her life on a cable news service. 50 years.
I begged him to just change it.
I know that if you look closely enough, there might be some socio-economic type of message to gain from it. Or not.
But I am sick and tired of this being what we consume day in and day out and day in and day out. My head managed to replay her sentencing, the image of her face stained in tears, all night. Why did I bother to let myself see that?
I believe in exposing yourself to the suffering in the world that you might normally spare yourself the sight. To see what lurks on the other side of my relatively sheltered paradise is instrumental to understanding oneself and mankind. It expands yourself to so many things. It�s a glimpse into what part of mankind�s existence is all about. The world suffers. There is also something very universal in the language of grief, and this includes happiness as well. A documentary on the Juarez killings, though unbearable to watch at times, can yield insight.
But this, I believe, differs from the news that we sometimes devour on prime time television. These news stations compete with reality show after reality show. They have to contend with the high ratings of sitcoms like Friends, CSI, Ally McBeal, Buffy, and ER. Real life has to be entertaining and as awe-inspiring as fiction (and that includes reality shows, believe me). If it bleeds it leads is clich�, but also really true. Our televised debates on political topics between pundits look more like wrestling matches than intellectual discussion. Sound bite. Yelling. Name calling. It all makes you want to tout a sign proclaiming your support for one side or the other. Go Team.
Plus, there�s something cathartic in seeing the woes of others. �This world is going to hell in a hand basket.� Child molesters, violent crimes, death, blood, horrors. Your unpaid credit card debts, your unmanageable mortgage, and Johnny on Ritalin pale compared to the stigma of the man who killed his pregnant wife and dumped her body in his favorite fishing spot. Admit it. You know who I am talking about. And you know their names.
The other day, my brother found a cable station that was called something like Repo Man. Like the show Cops, you could watch as a repo man repossessed the belongings of other people.
There�s nothing more entertaining than the misery of others.