Admittedly, I’m something of a news junkie.
My primary fix is CNN, and I’m afraid I’ve become something of an unhappy addict.
The horrific death recently of Tyre Nichols, a young Black man in Memphis, Tennessee, beaten without mercy, causing his death, murdered by five Black police officers, is heart-rending and inexcusable.
Sadly, it is also emblematic of the worst of the all-to-frequent aggressive policing practiced, so its apologists say, to help reduce the soaring crime rate in Memphis and throughout the US.
Its TV coverage, at least on CNN, is also emblematic of our seemingly insatiable appetite for witnessing human tragedy close-up.
(Memphis Police Department releases Tyre Nichols bodycam footage.)
There is something deeply disturbing about the minute-by-minute way our news outlets serve up each morsel of intimate detail as if it were another course of a gourmet tasting menu.
CNN’s broadcasters framed the build-up to the release of the horrific hour-long video of the police violence, pieced together by Memphis authorities, into what might have been the ballyhoo leading to the premier of the Oscars.
It started with CNN’s line-up for early evening viewing with the aimable and avuncular Jake Tapper.
While obviously moved by the event, he dished out the background, bringing in, again and again, on-the-ground correspondents for ‘breaking news’, usually the latest self-serving ‘it wasn’t my fault’ snippet from the mayor, police chief, or city councilman.
Each was asked for a guesstimate of when the main attraction, the release of the full video, would take place. It was a tightly held secret, demanding continuous viewing.
Stay tuned because you wouldn’t want to miss the feature, the really brutal murder “which you may find disturbing,” and an exclusive interview with the grieving mother, would you folks?
It was thinly sliced meat, sandwiched between endlessly repetitious promotions for other programming and serious observations from dubious CNN and outside ‘experts’ delivering 90 to 120 seconds of thoughtful comment before “another short break.”
An hour or so of that was followed by ‘The Situation Room’ the centerpiece of CNN’s evening news coverage, hosted by the weary, imperious Wolf Blitzer presenting ever-more “Breaking News”, almost, but not quite world-shaking events interrupted only by sports, more promos, the temperature in Lima and San Francisco, and then returning to more breaking news from Memphis.
Sure, not knowing when the authorities would release the video, first Tapper and then Blitzer can be forgiven for treading water with snippets from the scene in Memphis, talking heads, and more promos while they waited.
I may be an outlier, but I found the enforced breathless anticipation leading up to the hour-long feature disgraceful, bordering on obscene voyeurism.
The reaction of the CNN broadcasters’ entertainment ownership, Warner Bros. Discovery, so its apologists would say, is this is what their target audience wants to see and hear and what builds ratings.
I don’t want to believe that, but I may be alone, as I said.
Why can’t we get enough of the body-camera footage?
Why do we need to come in as close as possible to hear and see the personal tragedy of a mother who was just a few yards too far away to hear her son crying out for her while five sadistic police kicked and beat him again and again?
“‘I’m gonna baton the f*** out of you,” cried out one of the police while others stood by and watched, doing nothing to stop the murder, while the ambulance crew hung out for almost twenty minutes before assisting the failing boy.
What is it in us that wants to watch every tortured detail, hear in her own words how the stricken mother feels? How could she feel?
And doesn’t she deserve not to have a camera and microphone pushed into her privacy and be required to display what grief expert Joél Simone Maldonado labels “performance grief.”
As Charles Blow has written: “Mourning in public, on repeat, under and in front of the lights and cameras, isn’t part of the normal grieving process.”
But we demand it. Where would we be without those poignant images and soulful sound bites?
I doubt if I can escape my news addiction. Sometimes I really wish I could.