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INnocent!! |
by:
Daryl
Jung |
(
http://www.fwointl.com/artman/publish/article_309.shtml
)
Jacko is whacked, but are we?
By Daryl Jung
Now that they've let go the Wacko, Nancy
Grace's sanity is to be feared for.
I was sitting in a Toronto coffee shop,
commiserating with the radiant Rosie Levine
about the trials and tribulations of the
modern journalist, when it hit me, us --
we are truly victims of circumstance (see
Levine's TV/Radio piece in this issue) (
http://www.fwointl.com/artman/publish/article_309.shtml
) in that we must do our jobs, whether we
like it or not.
Later that evening I tried to apply this
theorem to MSNBC and Court TV harridan Nancy
Grace (the mother of all misnomers or what?),
as she shrieked and wailed over the verdict
and chastised the jury of the Michael Jackson
child-molestation case.
I couldn't do it. Grace is the epitome of
dichotomy. On one hand, she's an ultra-biased
bigot, railing against the hopelessly hapless
Jacko like an hemorraghing hippo in heat.
On the other, she's a wired, wide-eyed doe,
caught in the headlights, with nary an inkling
that she herself is a victim, not only of
her own prejudice, but of the inevitable
ebbs and flows of a warped, wonderful popular
culture that defy any and all logic -- and
which Grace, clearly, just does not grasp.
So, which is it? Is the graceless Grace
a victimizer or a victim?
She certainly makes no bones about her hatred
for, and envy of, Peter Pan incarnate, which
makes her reporting of his conundrum absolutely
unreliable.
She's the National Inquirer of the airwaves,
she doesn't look before she leaps, and gives
not a single hoot about anyone or anything
beyond herself and her no doubt gargantuan
paycheques. Jimmy Swaggart without the swagger.
A voice in the night, a cry in the dark,
a singer without a band.
And yet it's hard not to pity the poor thing
as she churns up her stomach contents and
strains her neck and optic muscles like
a baby ostrich hatching. She really oughta
take (your choice of drug here) and relax
those sausage-lips.
Will it take an on-air seizure for producers
to realize that this reporter should be
in a mental hospital, not in front of the
camera? Well, the sad truth is that it's
very, very likely. Shades of Peter Finch
in Network.
Grace was obviously mad as a hatter before
Larry King turned her loose on his unsuspecting,
undeserving audience. But now that they've
let go the Wacko, I not only fear for her
sanity, but also for the well-being of her
viewers, who, like moths to a bonfire, cannot,
inexplicably, turn her off.
My guess is that she will not get past this.
She'll seethe and simmer and take every
opportunity to rage against what she perceives
to be injustice until she either drops dead
or drives her demographic completely around
the bend -- whichever comes first.
She won't commit suicide on TV, probably
(perhaps unfortunately), but it ain't much
of a stretch to imagine her head exploding
or the eyeballs shooting out of her head.
Which almost happened when the Jackson jury
foreman, on Grace's own show, calmly stated,
post verdict, that he has no doubt whatsoever
that the Whack is a pedophile, but because
he is a celebrity, the foreman and cohorts
had to be careful to treat him like "a normal
human being, just like everybody else."
Heck, even I was taken aback by this idiocy,
until I realized it made no sense whatsoever
(or, perfect sense) and thanked aloud the
good Lord in heaven that I didn't have to
cover the stinking thing.
And what do I do? Waste an entire column,
about the second strangest creature involved
in it, on it. So I am a victim then, as
are all journalists, of the weirdness, the
death of morality, the decimation of justice,
the medication of the masses, the onslaught
of chaos, the sheer, outright, abject insan...
Ooops! Sorry. You'll have to excuse me.
Nancy Grace is on, and it's time for my
meds. So, with a forget-it-Jake-it's-Chinatown
emphasis, I'll utter this:
Hey, kids. It's not your fault! The world
got weird before you even decided to write
about it. But since you have, like Nancy
Grace, you've got to call 'em, (perhaps
unfortunately), as you see 'em.
And damn them crazy torpedoes anyway.
About the author:
Daryl Jung
Editor/Publisher
Inkwell Newswatch (IN)
publisher@fwointl.com
http://www.fwointl.com/in.html
http://www.jungLove.com
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1999-2049
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