The Media
“Bashing the media” is a popular sport down here in my neck of the wood—especially of late, as the national news pipelines have become high-pressure water cannons blasting away at Republicans, from the president on down to congressmen and cabinet members. This being a state redder than crimson, most folks here are nervous and on edge, and so they bash the media with extraordinary energy. “Aw, that’s just the media. None of that stuff’s true!” “The media hates the president because he’s a godly man!” [In my state we think “media” is singular and “license” is plural: “Didcha get your license?” “Yep, got ‘em yesterday.”]
My own politics being diametrically opposed to most in my state, I used to feel sympathy for the media. Sometimes, on finding myself in the middle of a media bash, especially if I’d had a beer or two, I would snatch the ball and run it with crazy, mad sarcasm. Someone might’ve just said, “The media NEVER gives us the GOOD news from Iraq!” And I would steal the ball and bark, “That’s right! You know, don’t you, that the war is actually over. We won! The troops are all home. But the media is making us think it’s still going on and we’re losing!” Usually, this would bring the game to a shuddering halt—a sudden silence, many eyes looking quizzically at me, until someone said, “Don’t be a smart ass.”
In the recent past, however, I’ve resigned my position as defenseman, owing largely to the religiously-themed crap that the media has been bringing front and center. How ‘bout this Michael Baigent character with his book The Jesus Papers: Exposing the Greatest Cover-Up in History? I’ve got less problem with the author—who has a right to write an inane book and engage a publisher and publicist—than I do with networks who park their first-string anchors across from Baingent and nod and blink with gravitas as the guy explains how Jesus conspired with authorities to fake his death and eventually slip away to Provence with Mary Magdalene. (And, turns out, this book is a re-hashing of another he co-wrote in 1982.)
Then, there’s the “Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer” (mentioned below by Lynn) published last week in the American Heart Journal. Again, my beef isn’t really with the document itself so much as with how the media set it on the hook and then bob and weave and tease with it. This study is among a multitude of similar studies conducted over the past two decades which—if tallied altogether—would reflect mixed results. But less than three weeks before Easter, it splashes across front pages and leads at least one evening network newscast.
Finally, tonight, I flip on CNN (will I ever learn?) where Wolf Blitzer, going to commercial, teases me with the promise of an upcoming report on the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, a new document that, says Wolf, may shock the Christian world. I’ve had enough. I switch off the TV. Two months ago, I had seen this thing in a tiny recess on the internet: The document, possibly 1,600 years old, may provoke a substantial dialogue among serious Christian scholars. Again, my gripe isn’t with the document itself; it’s that our friends the media (the big media) have sat on the story until right before Easter. It’s not about the news; it’s about the effect.
It dawned on me not long ago who the media really is. He’s a salesman. I used to think he was a newsman—a person whose mission was to bring me the news, the truth of “what’s happenin’ now.” Now I see he’s a salesman, whether he knocks on my door as Fox News, CNN, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, etc., his primary mission is not to bring me the news; it’s to sell product to me. He will package his “news” so that it best sells me whatever products he’s peddling (advertising). And don’t start with that NPR mantra; they’re panderers, too.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not completely cynical. Having lived in a dictator-led nation, I see benefits to journalism here in a relatively free society. But I’ve lost my faith in “the media” as a reliable source.
I’ve thought a lot about that word “media.” Is this not an agent that, by definition, must “mediate” something? I think so. The media gather up stuff, all kinds of stuff, and then they mediate (mold it, fold it, squeeze it) and pitch it toward you and me. Thus we live in an extremely mediated world.
What would be an alternative to a mediated world? Might it be an “immediate” world? And there’s the rub—for me, at least—everywhere I turn, it seems we’re so taken by the mediated world, that we’ve lost touch with the immediate one. In our churches, in our denominations, in our casual conversations, our view is primarily a result of a reality described by the media.
I’m beginning to think there’s an immediate world all around us that we’re not noticing.
Will you help me find it?
Ger
My own politics being diametrically opposed to most in my state, I used to feel sympathy for the media. Sometimes, on finding myself in the middle of a media bash, especially if I’d had a beer or two, I would snatch the ball and run it with crazy, mad sarcasm. Someone might’ve just said, “The media NEVER gives us the GOOD news from Iraq!” And I would steal the ball and bark, “That’s right! You know, don’t you, that the war is actually over. We won! The troops are all home. But the media is making us think it’s still going on and we’re losing!” Usually, this would bring the game to a shuddering halt—a sudden silence, many eyes looking quizzically at me, until someone said, “Don’t be a smart ass.”
In the recent past, however, I’ve resigned my position as defenseman, owing largely to the religiously-themed crap that the media has been bringing front and center. How ‘bout this Michael Baigent character with his book The Jesus Papers: Exposing the Greatest Cover-Up in History? I’ve got less problem with the author—who has a right to write an inane book and engage a publisher and publicist—than I do with networks who park their first-string anchors across from Baingent and nod and blink with gravitas as the guy explains how Jesus conspired with authorities to fake his death and eventually slip away to Provence with Mary Magdalene. (And, turns out, this book is a re-hashing of another he co-wrote in 1982.)
Then, there’s the “Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer” (mentioned below by Lynn) published last week in the American Heart Journal. Again, my beef isn’t really with the document itself so much as with how the media set it on the hook and then bob and weave and tease with it. This study is among a multitude of similar studies conducted over the past two decades which—if tallied altogether—would reflect mixed results. But less than three weeks before Easter, it splashes across front pages and leads at least one evening network newscast.
Finally, tonight, I flip on CNN (will I ever learn?) where Wolf Blitzer, going to commercial, teases me with the promise of an upcoming report on the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, a new document that, says Wolf, may shock the Christian world. I’ve had enough. I switch off the TV. Two months ago, I had seen this thing in a tiny recess on the internet: The document, possibly 1,600 years old, may provoke a substantial dialogue among serious Christian scholars. Again, my gripe isn’t with the document itself; it’s that our friends the media (the big media) have sat on the story until right before Easter. It’s not about the news; it’s about the effect.
It dawned on me not long ago who the media really is. He’s a salesman. I used to think he was a newsman—a person whose mission was to bring me the news, the truth of “what’s happenin’ now.” Now I see he’s a salesman, whether he knocks on my door as Fox News, CNN, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, etc., his primary mission is not to bring me the news; it’s to sell product to me. He will package his “news” so that it best sells me whatever products he’s peddling (advertising). And don’t start with that NPR mantra; they’re panderers, too.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not completely cynical. Having lived in a dictator-led nation, I see benefits to journalism here in a relatively free society. But I’ve lost my faith in “the media” as a reliable source.
I’ve thought a lot about that word “media.” Is this not an agent that, by definition, must “mediate” something? I think so. The media gather up stuff, all kinds of stuff, and then they mediate (mold it, fold it, squeeze it) and pitch it toward you and me. Thus we live in an extremely mediated world.
What would be an alternative to a mediated world? Might it be an “immediate” world? And there’s the rub—for me, at least—everywhere I turn, it seems we’re so taken by the mediated world, that we’ve lost touch with the immediate one. In our churches, in our denominations, in our casual conversations, our view is primarily a result of a reality described by the media.
I’m beginning to think there’s an immediate world all around us that we’re not noticing.
Will you help me find it?
Ger

1 Comments:
Gerald,
I couldnt have said it better myself. Though it was a bit disconcerting to read a column by Cal Thomas in the morning paper that expressed similar sentiments (though without your finely tuned ambivalence toward the media in general).
Better, however is an op-ed piece in today's New York Times, by Raymond Lawrence, the director of pastoral care at Columbia Presbyterian in NYC. I think you will find his views on the prayer "study" on the mark.
The link is http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/11/opinion/11lawrence.html?ex=1145419200&en=69aa...
Dee
Post a Comment
<< Home