Because You Never Asked

(4/99)

     The title of this essay is somewhat misleading because it does not really dwell upon our most recent rampage of cultural anxiety gone over the edge. For my feelings on what has now become a quasi-routine vista in the landscape of the American Dream, I shall simply say, see essay "Jonesboro", previously included in this mass of dubious philosophical patter.

     The shootings at Columbine High School led me in a different direction.

     I stumbled upon this story one late afternoon as I made ready for my almost daily jousts of frustration at the local tennis courts. Having now entered the realm of middle age decay, such preparations last longer than they used to in those longed for days of limberly youthful vigor. There are now pills to take, limbs to stretch, and decrepit bodily parts to protect in a complex web of braces, pads and paraphernalia, a process that can last as long as a half an hour. I frequently perform these preparations in the company of one of the seemingly infinite outlets for what is defined as "news" in the modern world.

     On the day in question, I zapped on the TV. As the roulette wheel of viewing possibilities would have it, the ABC version of the "news" instantly appeared on the screen. For those of us who are unfortunate enough to concern ourselves with such things, we know that ABC is just another way to say "Disney", meaning this was the Mickey Mouse version of the "news". As I tightened a brace around a knee that would rather stay home than go play tennis, I began to realize that something was amuck in the "Magic Kingdom" . again.

     As a cynically outspoken critic of the "Santa Monica Man" culture, I could only shrug, shake my head in helpless despair and mutter, "here we go again" as I vaguely listened to the story. I remained in this limbo between athletic preparation and civic attention for about 5 minutes, when something from the TV screen truly caught my attention. For me, the real news (as opposed to the "news") was the following:

     Disney's news anchor in the studio for this latest chapter of "breaking news" was, quite predictably, an attractive young woman. I will risk going off on an ill advised tangent by saying that there doesn't seem to be any "news" at all unless there is a beautiful woman or handsome man telling us about it. Perhaps all the world's problems could be instantly solved by having ugly newscasters. It's quite possible that this epidemic of bad "news" would wither and evaporate if this were to happen.

     In any event, our news-casting piece of ass had become the eye of the storm raging all around her as the Disney Empire tried to decipher the meaning of yet another American high school turned into a battleground. As I admired her good looks, I thought, gosh, what a cad I am, imagining her erotic potential as all these innocent kids were dieing at the OK Corral High School. Such guilt ridden examination of these amorous possibilities --- her pixy-faced, short haired, brunettely good looks --- were interrupted when I noticed a crucifix dangling from a delicate chain sitting just below the space between her collar bones (and such lovely collar bones they were). Make no mistake about it; there was nothing subtle about the intrusion of this well-known religious symbol. It was not lurking temptingly in the shadows of her cleavage, nor occasionally peeking out from under the frills and folds of a complicated dress or blouse. No. There it was, like an erect nipple demanding to be fondled. It even glittered with jeweled encrustations.

     This, to me, is news.

     Having noticed her ostentatious display of faith, I began rummaging in the vast data bank of my memory, eventually deciding that I had never seen such a thing before in all my years of watching the "news" on TV. (There doesn't seem to be any "news" in real life. It's only on TV.) I immediately felt uncomfortable with this trumpeting of religious devotion.

     It can only be considered a laudable thing when people living in a multiethnic, multi-cultural society, can freely proclaim their own form of spiritual delusion when and however they please. If somebody believes that the toe nail of a wildebeest dipped in turpentine is a sacred symbol, they should be allowed to wear it on the part of their anatomy they darn well please, whenever they damn well feel like it. But .

     . given the so called "objective" nature of anything having to do with reporting the "news" (yeah, sure), an exception to this rule must be made for somebody who's job is to present the reality of our existence without the intrusion of personal opinion. The newscaster should never editorialize. The viewer-listener should know as little as possible about who they are and what they believe. (Of course, as a private citizen off the job, they have the same right to wear their wildebeest toe as anyone else.) This obvious display of such a religious symbol is a statement of beliefs that are quite frequently in conflict with many of the millions of people gazing upon our Disney newscaster's suckable good looks. For any newscaster properly performing his or her job, such a statement of religious belief (or even non-belief) is something that undermines the credibility of their work.

     Let's leave the realm of such philosophical ramblings and get more specific. One of the more traditional bloodbaths found through the last 1500 years of history is the ongoing joust between Christians and Moslems, a conflict that is alive and well as I speak. The buzzards of the world have found a windfall of dining possibilities hovering over the carnage of this conflict. Although geo-political machinations quite frequently are the true root of many of the Christian-Moslem tensions in the world (oil and such), the bloodshed in the old Yugoslavia, in Chechnya and the nearby area known as Dagestan, in Cyprus, and in the Middle East in general, are all centered over this Christian-Moslem fault line. Can a newscaster wearing the symbol of her Christian faith be seen as an objective player in reporting these events?

     Let's hypothetically raise an example that, for us Americans, might make this point with a clearer focus. Let's substitute a Jewish Star of David for the cross sitting just below the opening in our Mickey Mouse newscaster's collarbones. Could she be expected to objectively report on a story where Palestinian youths are throwing rocks at Israeli soldiers? On Arab-Israeli peace talks?

     There seems to be an upturn these days in crosses staring us in the face. Nobody steps to the foul line without one, nor does the latest modeling sensation appear on Letterman in a state of crossless heathenism. Even the tattooed fornicators of MTV stardom are colorfully festooned with a generous assortment of religious reliquary. They are everywhere. I can remember when these spiritual concerns were a more private affair . a time frame that seems to coincide with an era when there were no Columbines or Jonesboros.