Chase and Collect

Posted: December 2, 2015 in Uncategorized

The reporters stammered and struggled their way through the script, trying to project their normal diction, the voice of confidence, of one who observes but does not, not ever, participate. On the one hand they lived for these moments, these stretches of live, ongoing coverage. These were the words that could make their career: Their Hindenburgs, their presidential assassinations. On the other hand it was a most dehumanizing experience, to try and talk at length about acts of human horror, of the basest motivations and actions performed by a fellow human being. And their job was to simply report: to read numbers, to recap information, not to inject their personal emotions. And yet, the fallacy of this approach is that all of those great moments of journalism, all the memorable utterances and exclamations are moments when emotion trumps that instinct to be passive. When a person must forsake their career and do something so instinctively human that it resonates with those observing the observers. It is when the god in the box looks down at the people below and weeps, and we know to weep along with that god.

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