Posts Tagged ‘Media’

Is it possible to not relate to the relative magnanimity given to other writers when you are one?

I guess musicians may go through a similar thing.  They create music.  They make a tune or a symphony. Someone is beguiled by it. Then someone projects all certain desires upon it and its creator.

Most often I have seen artists just shrug and go back to their business of making. Love or not loved they produce because they produce, like a Salmon on a spawn run or a fruit bearing tree. There is just a natural compulsion driven by known-but-unseen forces to produce an image or an art object.  The making is simply not dependent on the market. It is the only hope left for magic.

I guess I have been under some illusion writing is in some separate mundane magic where its craftsmanship is dammed up behind misers of a different type. Those who are word-killers. I imagine a type of A-list hunter who seeks to kill the craft for the sake of completive spite or avarice. They  seek to control a maker making or a writer writing. It’s the anal retentive would-be-Svengali who sits on what other people make for their own perverse solitary power trip. Few seem to think the joke is funny, but, again, they shrug and move on to whatever gets published that day like organized insects busy on their pile of dirt.

Prior to this tirade, I read a prop piece on Edna O’Brien’s recent book in Smithsonian magazine. (What was I doing reading Smithsonian in my free time? It showed up in my mailbox, suspiciously, one day.  It was later discovered a relative had sponsored a subscription for us.) The prop piece was written by someone truly fascinated by the author. It wasn’t just her book process.

I guess I have been so spoiled by professional behind-the-scenes relays from filmmakers and directors, that I was somehow offended when this magazine writer became a starry-eyed drone hovering over Edna O’Brien. Despite my discomfort I realized this author wasn’t merely observing and reporting about another  author. They were commenting on journey and style of Irish writers.

I took a class on Irish authoring. This may tip a few Holy Cows here but I don’t get Irish writing. I don’t get why people fawn over Irish derived writing as if reading the geographic or even genetic writing is somehow like watching a live birth of an elf covered in opals telecasted in a rough gaelic translation. I just don’t get it. To this day when I read or witness people nearly worshipping Irish writing I feel really strange.

I have a similar reaction to people who flock to the feet of New York writers because they made publishing space for some new display of carnality or vileness for really bored and vile rich psychopaths as if it can be newly understood gutter oil under this piano lamp. I can’t share their fate. I have to run. Far. Away. To a Turd Polisher’s Anonymous meeting.

Criticism has to be justified. In Edna’s case this coverage was somehow about the integration of a genocidal war maker on the lam with his love story in her new book. The notion is unsavory and a little outrageous, but in some universe also conceivable and human. I think humanizing psychopaths who routinely get a break in all runs of the press daily everywhere is bad form for human life.

I guess this comes from a deeply disappointed bitter place that nearly psychotic writers and editors end up in charge of what I read. Its the same type of publishing parsonage who bank the prosperity of their writing career on being taken into intimacy with convicts.They have been making terrible editorial decisions my entire life to let genocidal megalomaniacs off of the hook by not printing the horror of what it is they do or demurring to political forces who want to smooth over what genocide actually is to some socially accepted thing.

I think this is happening so certain world leaders don’t have to face the emperor in his nudity or when they are proximally close to the same people who ascended to power by killing hundreds or thousands of regular people. I am so sorry for their discomfort, because I have been there. However, the writer and journalist must call spade ‘SPADE’ when it is our turn to use the written word to tell the truth. They have to stop being sops to deadly or powerful people because they can kill indiscriminately.

Someone has to be the adult in the room.  To adulate Edna O’Brien for her careful pass at probably humanizing the love interests of a genocide perpetrator is conservative form and noteworthy for me. The Smithsonian’s coverage is the same tone and caliber of whitewashed insanity that makes some intentionally enforced poverty and segregation of native americans and former slaves in America kept humming consistently in the background unnoticed by the regular people. There are tons of it in inventory in vast grades and quantity in this market.

I know the whitewash will still be reliably printed and ran. Writers will make their living from conflicts either bowing to them or defying them. I just cannot be expected to read on happily without a single complaint.


While not a deportable offense, Piers Morgan’s misunderstanding of American base fears, by scoffing at them, is not helping.

Tonight I witnessed the spectacle of Piers Morgan confronting the man calling for his deportation on his national nightly broadcast program.

I actually thought I was witnessing the rarest of events, like a 500 year eclipse or the sighting of an albino tazmanian marsupial.  It was simply Alex Jones, a Texas alternative broadcaster accustomed to the vacuum environs of his bully pulpit, drawn victim to a mainstream media television trap to be prodded into an irrational frenzy.

Morgan, who sat there like a right chuffed old gentleman, cut to commercial as Jones started to get really loud.

Of course, Jones responded like a cornered animal.  He lashed out at Morgan, as he represents everything essential to what he fears.  For Jones can only be terrified by a Eurocentric, blithely elitist, white man from the old country whose comparative dominance comes like a long lost relative hanging around for the moment of American economic death. Jones might fear this will result in some comprehensive windfall to displace US real estate to Old Europe; which is a hard boiled reason to keep secession on the stove of any Texan.

Coming back from the commercial break we heard words from governor, Chris Christie, who moderated that we can’t treat our schools like prisons by staffing them with armed guards.

I watched this media circus continue as Morgan dragged out a Harvard analyst promoting gun bans on all assault weapons because it is what Europe does. His law professor  then debased the notion that Americans are competent to elect their own government and because they  choose to own guns. Morgan, who was comparatively terrified by Jones literal gun ownership, may believe that there ARE other people better qualified to run American lives better than Americans. Our mentally ill run the streets and assault children “for God’s sake”!

This act was followed by another legal extremist caricature, Sheriff Joe “pink underwear” Arpaio. Arpaio openly frustrated Morgan’s efforts by disclosing he would be equipping his Lords of The Border with AR-15 and related assault weapons.  [Can you blame, Arpaio? If the ATF is feeding military grade weapons to Mexican drug cartels floating on loans from HSBC, a European old world bank, he’s got to step up his game.]  Morgan sniffed it up and moved to a commercial.

Morgan’s final play was to see us a pair of Kennedys, a useful equivalent to American royalty, for a full flush. The gambler relied on the idea this will galvanize his effort to be believable, credible, understandable and non-threatening to other Canadians. The Kennedy’s managed, amid the floral gasps of indignation, to sliver in the identified problem of allowing America’s mentally ill to access to firearms. No resounding policy elucidation on how to fix this problem from the pair of Kennedys.

Apparently, Morgan does not understand American fear. The Kennedy’s did get an edge out on a very tangible fear. Even they do not have enough protection from imagined threat of violence.  We overincarcerate against crimes that aren’t violent.  We are armed to the teeth and yet we are still terrified every day. Of what?  An efficacy arc of controlling personality, greed and corruption out of reach from the cleansing might of the people. A power out of touch with the increasingly grinding everyday unkindness in our lives. The same one riding the elephant in the midst of the room; which no one can speak of.  And you wonder why we are so insecure.

The pains of being 3rd world America never really left the national soul.

The fears of Alex Jones are based on being recolonized by an external remote control, totalitarian, extortionist society of slave owners, crushing tax leviathans with no representative government. Jones fears his life as an American debtor would mean he could die an indentured servant in wars started for profit by old royal families from across the pond.

What? It’s not like it’s never happened before in human history. If it was dissimilar to what we are actually doing to ourselves now, Jones might have bought himself some psychic distance from this cycle of depravity. Unfortunately, he doesn’t really have that luxury.

It’s not dissimilar enough from fears of common Britons, perhaps even mirroring the fears of Mr. Piers Morgan. Jones presence on primetime evening television suggests, in undertone only, that we are being recolonized if only between our ears.

Morgan has a broadcast in America, but he doesn’t deliver America to Americans. He delivers bewildered, clippy milquetoast commentary, all edges cut away for television. What’s entertaining about it is watching Morgan trying to figure out our celebrities, our pain and our diversity.  However, Morgan never broadcasts a single evening episode based on his ability to necessarily relate, but to float over the concept of America. Which is why he is so easy to wave away by the serious living and deep public reform work agonized over by real, naturalized and invested American citizens vs. media props set up by teevee producers at CNN.

That is why it was such a wistfully sad moment to watch Alex Jones, so terrified by the clandestine serial erosion of our nations basic Constitutional Liberties, reduced to an emotional last stand, hysterically pounding out notes of resistance at CNN’s unsympathetic anchor.

And I may relate to Alex Jones. I am not some sheep who heeds him like a pied piper as Morgan, suggests. I might relate to him because he doesn’t insist on icing over facts about why American life has drastically changed since the Bush Administrations policy takeovers. These same policies are being amplified without reason by Obama, leaving most of us without basic agency, 4th Amendment protections or an economy.

I may relate to’s Abby Martin more. She reports what is egregiously omitted in our political engines and news dialect. It doesn’t slide on unnoticed.

Morgan at CNN provides no such public service as the 4th Estate.

Morgan is not discussing the criminal insanity of his network, CNN, for handing the policy mic to Pentagon interests. Morgan isn’t paid to do that. Morgan is paid to ensure effete New York elderly will have some television programming at night. [Michael Bloomberg]

Our government may rule, but it has been divested from a lot of public trust. If you are an American patriot today you are using your right to dissent before that gets criminalised by a Dept. of Defense contractor lobby.

While Piers Morgan may have agitated Alex Jones’ emotional on camera blowout with his challenging rhetoric, there’s simply no prospect of  him moving me. I know the hidden menace under every American bed, tricking us out of our sanity, our national fiscal solvency and our Liberty isn’t Piers Morgan.  It isn’t the guns, the commies, the jews or illegal aliens.

[So what is it?]

Apparently, I can’t know because it’s a matter of national security.

It may have something to do with the War on Terror.

If so, maybe the cultural answer is as simple as a goal to stop the fear itself so government can’t confound us out of our natural rational senses and personal power.