Some days the "news" just gets to me. This morning I was flipping through the morning shows. There was Katie Couric, sitting on a high chair, interviewing three people about Martha Stewart. (Am I the only person who can't look at Katie any more without thinking, "Navy Seals ROCK!") Robin Roberts on ABC is directing a man through making and demonstrating homemade cleaners.
Remember after September 11th, when people were saying everything had changed forever? When the media had a hiccup of regret over spending the summer covering Gary Condit and Chandra Levy? That's when we got constant tickers crawling beneath the announcers on every news station. Those tickers told us how many people were thought to be dead, the rumors of life in the pile, stories that made us feel and care. But now our tickers are telling us about the Scott Peterson trial, and Martha Stewart's sentencing, and Kobe Bryant. And they never tell us anything about the Americans or the Iraqis who died in Iraq today, other than counting them like the score of a sick baseball game. What are their names? How old were they? How did they die? Tell us. Their deaths matter.
Frank Rich says it is the fault of happy talk news. I don't know why journalism has sunk this low, but it makes me sad.
Why hasn't one of the networks shown the video of Bush sitting in that Florida classroom for 7 minutes after learning the 2nd World Trade Center Tower had been hit? Why don't I have that video burned into my brain, instead of poor Howard Dean shouting over the crowd in Iowa?
Show me the My Pet Goat video. The country will not fall apart if we see Prances in Flightsuit as he really is. Give him his seven minutes of fame. Show some courage. Show some guts. Be journalists, not parrots. Do your job.
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