Crisis-tainment

I am not watching the news. Not following #manhunt tweets. Or #bostonbombs. I did have on NPR for a while, but turned it off when some reporter questioned why Obama had not yet spoke today, three days after two bombs exploded at the Boston Marathon.

"People need to hear from their leader," the White House Correspondant said.

Really?

What do we need to hear that he has not already said? That one suspect is dead and they are searching for the other and that we really don't know anything more than that. That will help?

Jeez.

You know what I want to hear? I want some reporter to say, go play with your child. Go hold that young person and tell them you love them, and point to something beautiful. A beautiful painting, a beautiful tree a cloud a rainbow a puddle. Play some music. Sing. Dance. Make something delicious for dinner, and then set the table with candles, and tell stories and talk about the one thing you could not live without. And if you don't have a child then tell your friend, your lover, your neighbor. Even the one with the loud dog and that clothes line you absolutely hate....

People were standing at the finish line at the Boston Marathon, one second cheering the next screaming. Blood was everywhere. Limbs. Smoke. Shrapnel. Glass. It was falling still, and still people ran toward the danger. Toward it.

Tell your mother about one thing she gave you will always remember. A nice thing....
Do the same for your dad.
Do the same for the woman you live with. And the man.

Turn off the TV and do this, because this is what we have.

Sure, there is ugly, insane, devastating shit going on in this world. And it can rip out our heart or we can remember: people ran toward the danger. They ran toward it, and picked up bodies and carried them.

I want the news stations to say 'while police continue to search for a bomber in Boston,' people of all shapes and sizes are putting on running shoes and getting ready for a race. Or, 'while a school shooter's home is being searched', kids are singing in their school halls. Or 'while ricin has been found in an envelop' prisoners are writing letters of apology to their victims. I want the news to tell me about all the big beautiful magic things that happen every day when people say, I am not going to be scared, and you can't make me.

Stick your camera on that, CNN, 'cause that's where the real news is.