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Fear and Numbing in the TV Zone
by Norman Solomon
For most people in the United States, the picture of events
since
Sept. 11 has been largely framed by television. When pollsters with
Princeton Survey Research asked "Where have you gotten most of your news
about the attacks?" more than a week later, a whopping 87 percent of
adults
gave TV as the answer.
While newscasts are still apt to be disturbing, television is
mostly back to normal. Some commercials pay respect to patriotic themes,
and Old Glory continues to get a lot of screen time. But an ultimate
expression of media normalcy -- the relentless barrage of TV ads --
returned to full strength after a mid-September hiatus of several days.
The
one-two punch of mind-numbing commercials and checked-out entertainment
has
never packed more of a wallop than it does now.
Overall, the media disconnect is pretty extreme: Journalists
and a
range of commentators have told us that our world changed profoundly and
irreversibly on Sept. 11. Yet the vast majority of what's on television
is
in the same old groove.
In our society, the one-track momentum of commercialism has so
much velocity that even horrific events don't slow it down for very
long.
The corporate-driven locomotives of consumerism keep barreling ahead.
Like
the cloying MasterCard commercial with its endless variations, the
messages
are slyly contradictory: There are precious things that money can't buy.
So, to fully avail yourself of those precious things, be sure to buy buy
buy.
President Bush has stressed that Americans shouldn't fail to
shop,
as if pulling out credit cards is a defiant blow against "the
evildoers."
Thousands of TV commercials go on their merry way, oblivious to dire
circumstances outside the calculus of huckstering.
The sensuous imagery of a current Jaguar ad includes a man and
woman kissing as the word "wicked" flickers through sultry jump-cuts.
Flashing snippets seem to imitate the Orson Wells film "Touch of Evil"
--
all in the service of selling a high-priced car, marketed for prestige
and
sublimation.
Such commercials are merely business as usual, but at a time of
extraordinary crisis -- when the yearning for straight talk and human
connection is especially acute -- the customary TV onslaughts ring more
hollow than ever. And while advertisers can't stop treating the public
like
gullible children, top government officials can't resist using the
rhetoric
of idealism to paper over the huge gaps between pretension and policy.
The president tells us that the tragic events compel us to
engage
with our deeper values, that we should hug our kids, actively treasure
our
loved ones. On TV news, we see the Pentagon's grainy computerized-video
abstractions of a far-off war on Afghanistan. Tiny blips and pixels
represent Afghan individuals who -- with no more links to Osama bin
Laden
than you or I -- hugged their loved ones and watched them die.
This country's fabled "exceptionalism" -- aided by the buffers
of
huge oceans, massive economic clout and military prowess -- has involved
the wishful belief that to be an American is to be exempt from some
basic
human vulnerabilities. We're encouraged to assume that the United States
can keep speeding through history without really looking at grim
consequences for some other people on the planet. But they, too, want to
hug their children; they too want to provide their loved ones with a
safe
future; they too experience rage that springs from grief and fear.
Particularly in times of crisis, our mass-mediated democracy
makes
us part of a swift marketing loop: The media spin is intense; opinion
polls
gauge its effects; the polling results are grist for further media spin.
Among the American public, we're told triumphantly, the president's
favorable ratings -- like the approval numbers for the war -- are very
high. Television has served the White House well.
To credulously watch TV is to submit to a numbing process. What
television offers today, perhaps more than ever, is anesthesia in the
face
of apprehension. As a stunned spectator, the body politic is incessantly
coached as to the implicit limits of sensitivity -- the innocent lives
at
home are clearly precious, the innocent lives in Afghanistan nearly
worthless. With impressive high-tech visuals, the TV set offers us
expansive zones of unreality, swaddled in the comforts of commerce,
hermetic entertainment and propaganda. If we must watch, it's essential
that we recognize what we're seeing.
Source:
by the same author:
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