We’ve been in collective mourning for weeks starting with the national pall over the death of Jack Layton. Then came 9/11 and we were subjected to a level of death porn that is disgusting to me. A lot of the images of people falling out of buildings and such were kept back in the days following the disintegration of the World Trade Center, but the media decided in its wisdom to play them up big. There were full-page images of people falling out of the building; the terrible photo of the priest being carried out by NYC fire; haunting images of those on the ground.
Over and over and over again.
Do you remember, a few days after 9/11, when the television collective decided to stop running the footage of the second plane going into the building? They did so out of respect for the families.
Apparently, they all decided that, 10 years later, those pictures could be brought out of the vault again. We saw them replayed endlessly over the past 10 days. Yet those families and survivors are still living, still turning on their televisions, and bringing those images back further damages those suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
I would be Pollyanna if I thought those images would have been locked away forever.
We live in a world of constant over-exposure, when ratings instead of decency rule the media. I knew that yesterday would be Deathfest 500, so I just turned off the television. I didn’t even go to the gym because I didn’t want to be bombarded with 9/11 coverage.
I kept thinking over the last few days that we were playing into the hands of the terrorists. They’ll never have to cock a rifle again. Big media will carry their message every September 11. What a brilliant communications strategy.
Hopefully, today is another day.
The anniversary is over.
Time to get a life again.
Time to move on.
Time to look forward towards hope not grief.
Time to celebrate what we have, not what we lost.