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Seven More Reasons to Feel Good About Yourself

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by Jason Roth

At some point, you might have convinced me that the American public was generally good. Stupid, but good. So when a plane, train, or space shuttle should happen not to make it to its destination in one piece, the American people might feel some sort of emotion that resembles the not very uncomfortable feeling you get when you hear that your third-favorite 1960s sit-com actor kicked the bucket:

"I loved that guy! What was his name again? Oh, whatever. Could you pass the butter?"

The reason that such a trivial emotion would be good, in my estimation, is that it would be honest. The lives of, say, seven individuals in a vehicle burning to death would rightly cause a tinge of regret. Maybe even a tad of disappointment. If you happened to be watching the whole thing live on cable news, possibly even as much as a dollop of dismay.

But what the big, fake, media-fabricated pretense of an American public is feeling (not the actual public I see on a daily basis) is something more akin to what you feel while watching your first born placed head-first into a blender set on purée while both your parents are forced at gunpoint to rape your best friend's dog.

No one even knew the Space Shuttle was in space, for Christ's sake!

The Columbia accident was a tragedy. No shit. But the way the media has been portraying the public at large is like we actually have displayed one iota of interest in science within the past decade. I actually heard Peter Jennings say that Americans were "holding back tears" as a result of the accident.

Are you fucking kidding me?

99% of the world would never have seen a photo of those astronauts, let alone known any of their names, had they not been made "heroes" by splintering into a thousand charred pieces all over the Lone Star state.

The media's definition of "hero", by the way, should be clear by now:

"A formally living individual who has been gunned down or incinerated while giving the true or false impression of seeking unselfish ends."

The mainstream media sure as hell didn't show any respect towards any astronauts' goals before this shuttle blew up. Unless you count that last time a shuttle blew up.

The only reason the Columbia landing was being covered on TV in the first place was that a landing spaceship makes for good TV. It was the spaceship that was being covered, not the science. And now that the media has a color photo of seven dead people, they're acting like the American public is a bunch of Star Trek geeks.

In his memorial speech, President Bush told the families of the astronauts, "Our nation shares in your sorrow." Congressmen are tripping over each other to tell us how much we're all "mourning". And yes, that we're mourning for seven "heroes".

Can we, please, during a moment of tragedy, not be a bunch of phony, pathetic fools? Is that too much to ask? If you didn't give a fuck about the Space Shuttle before the Columbia accident, try to keep your mouth generally shut about how goddamn weepy you are now and how you had to drink an extra cup of hot chocolate in order to get to sleep last night. Save the crocodile tears for when some gullible bastard might actually fall for it.

But I use the term "we" loosely. The fact is, I think the American public is basically good, and basically sincere. The "public" presented (and invented) by the media is nothing more than a figment of Dan Rather's teleprompter data-entry clerk's imagination.

The mainstream media isn't content to report facts. They want to tell you what to feel, too. They think that if they describe the emotions and thoughts of the masses preemptively, then the masses will follow their lead and fulfil the prophesy.

The media coverage of the Columbia disaster wasn't about respect. It wasn't a salute. It sure as fucking hell wasn't personal. It was pure misery bottled and sold.

But imagine a society that would pay for that bottle. A society so goddamn guilty about not actually having heroes that it finds it necessary to feel miserable when seven heroic coulda-beens are dead and gone. A society that likes its heroes the way it likes its burgers. Flame broiled.

If those seven had lived, they damn well would not have been called heroes. They would have occupied even less space in the collective consciousness than they will two months from now. Zero.

The real "public" is a drug addict. And the fix doesn't even get you high. It brings you down. Down to the point when you think your media-engineered depression means you must have had some values to begin with. If it feels like "loss", you must have had something to lose. Right?

You can't revere the hero. But good for you. At least you know which tie to wear to his funeral.

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