We recently found ourselves, in a mood for self-revelation, revealing the following tale:
We are brand new to the States! We have traveled here from a magical land (ML), far, far away. It has taken us many months š®āšØ
In this ML, the press neverā due to time constraints, desire for sensationalism, or biases on the parts of journalistsā flattens the stories they tell.
In this magical land, the press admits when it doesnāt have all the answers. It resists caricaturing its subjects as either angels š or devils šæ, & it always takes the time to understand an issue before making public pronouncements abt it.
Why does it bother? Bc, thru bothering, it tells much better stories. Also bc the news, in this magical land, is not motivated by clicks. Its reporters get paid only if they can sustain, for readers, a sense that their subjects are *real human beings*.
You might be thinking, š® that sounds wonderful! Why have we left such a magical land (ML)? Bc one day, in that MLās glorious newspaper, we read abt all the worries & woes which have beset the press in your landā in the U.S., where weāve received such a warm welcome already.
We read of sensationalism, we read of caricatures, we read of journalists not doing their hw & then putting on ~wise~ & silly airs during their big exposƩs. We even read of journalists letting their unproven, preconceived notions take the reins for a couple of stories.
We were shocked! We, as a sworn Press Interventionist š, couldnāt let this stand! We ran out the door to your embassy, got our papers stamped, & hopped on a boat to the U.S. that very afternoon.
We were at sea many months.
During this time, we searched your news columns, determined to find, like a needle in a haystack, the story which most called for a Press Intervention š Find it we did, & boy did it needle us!
The Zizians! Those beastly & bloodthirsty nogoodniks! We had, luckily, heard all abt them from our magical newspaper, & had saved all the clippings šļø We uploaded those clippings to zizians.co, along w/ *some* finger-wagging at *certain* of your journalists for being too silly.
***
Could we have chosen another story? No doubt! But we are only one Press Interventionist (PI) from our guildā the others, back in that magical land, are at a conference, which we skipped out on to travel here š¤«
We are only one PI, & we only have room in our little head for one big story at a time šµāš« It is our practice, as PIs, to take our time w/ stories: to rlly get to know their hills; their dales; their topography; & their geology too, if we can.
We go deep so that we can heap intervention (HI) upon the heads of the press, when we notice they are fudging it. Why do we HI? Do we just *love* to wag our fingers (TWOF)? š¤ We donāt *mind* TWOF, but, more than anything, we HI bc the press is where we learn abt ourselves*.
*We have, to be perfectly honest, stolen this line from our sister guildsters, the Movie Interventionists š¤«
***
We learn from the press what is acceptable & what is forbidden w/in us, & we learn this in a harsh way. When the press gets its paws around an unlucky subject who displays forbidden qualities, they go bananas. They strip that subject of their full humanity, & parade that subject in front of the rest of us as an example: this could be you!
To add insult to injury, the press tries to fool its paradeās onlookers (IPO): to tell them they are hating on another, an outsider, someone not like them in the least. IPO can buy relief so long as that tenuous bargain holds: so long as they stay acceptable in the eyes of others. At what cost, we shudder to think š It is, moreover, easy to look at a person denuded of humanity by the press, & to imagine their amusing appearance is essential to who they areā to imagine they are essentially different from youā who are wrapped up snug in your warm & cozy humanity. This is another of the pressās illusions.
We at Strange New Vegan Death Cult Murders love giving names to the pressās illusions. In fact, we spot two at work here: the first we might call The Proxy Paradeā the āoutsiderā before us is really sthng we all feel, to a greater or lesser extent, w/in ourselves. The parade itself is a misdirect. The stated message is, āLook at themā so dangerous! So grotesque!ā The real message is, āDonāt be like this, or weāll get you, too.ā
The second illusion we might call The Wardrobe Error: mistaking someoneās outward appearance for inward characterā forgetting that their unfortunate aestheticsā Villain, Hysteric, Deviant, etc.ā were chosen for them by the press, for the pressās tired & hokey morality play.
In short, we Press Interventionists would like to rain on the pressās parades.
We would like more ppl to feel they can risk being unacceptable in the eyes of others! We would like those others to expand their palates, & agree, however grudgingly, that more things are acceptable! We would like all of this to happen so thatā to crib another line from our Movie Interventionist sistersā āwe [can] just not hate ourselves so much.ā
***
All Press Interventionists gather & train in that magical, faraway land (ITMFL)ā bc, ITMFL, they have found many clever ways to tame their press, so that it no longer ravages the countryside, swooping up damsels like Mz. Ziz LaSota & terrifying the villagers w/ its shoddy, half-baked morality plays.
It no longer mesmerizes the villagers into repressing themselves. Instead, it works for the villagersā including their damsels: arguing on their behalf; lifting them up; even helping their offenses against those who become too greedy, powerful, & cruel.
It provides one more crucial service for the villagers ITMFL: it feeds them good, rich stories (GRS) all day longā as many as they can read. This was the original reason why we became a Press Interventionist: bc we are a glutton for GRS, & weād heard that this magical land had the most delicious stories of them all š½ļø
***
We are, as mentioned, new to the States, but weāve been loving our time here. Your ppl have shown true hospitality. Weāve been met w/ open arms, & will be eternally grateful.
Our only sorrow is that, in your country, we have no access to our magical paper (OMP). OMP does not publish online! Weāre left only w/ the U.S. pressās snide, silly, & downright sinister commentary š Weāre left, after reading your news, feeling snackishā picking at some limp, bitter tidbits š On our snackish mind has been the constant q.: which secret ingredients make that magical landās stories so delicious? Which secret ingredients must we enrich your stories w/?
***
Sometimes, your stories lack meatā as we just saw, when Matt Simons cut the heart right out of Somniās vital courtroom announcement.
Sometimes, they lack saltā as weāve seen countless times in your bland, flat coverage of the Rationalists.
Sometimes, they need a little acidā some lemon juice, tomatoes, vinegar, anything: w/out it, your character sketches are one-note, & they lack balance.
Your fondness for omitting this storyās core of transphobia is like omitting onions from your stew: you may escape having to cry, but gain for your efforts a bowl of characterless, complexity-free, empty, dull, generic mush š„£
Finally, your stories lack sweetness. They are sour, they are bitter, they are unbalanced encoreā there are no well-rounded characters to temper your bile & your hot, hot disdain.
***
We marvel that, despite the range of what they lack, so many of your stories manage to all taste the same. Your stories are giving us palate fatigue. What, then, is their substance? What is this stuff that weāve been chewing day & night?
We suspect this stuff is artificial ingredients: intensified, simplified, & strangely hollow.
Most notably, the heat which you add in abundance has neither warmth nor nuance. Your stories may be scorchersā but they are harsh, monotonous, & yet again, belie unmissable bitterness. They are dry, w/ no depth: thereās no nice, slow-cooked context. They summon lots of smokeā to hide that they lack real fires.
***
To pass the hungry hours of the night, we have been writing reports: abt the chronic news malnourishment yr ppl have endured š We have called for reinforcement from the guild, & from the Culinary Institute of our magical land š¾
A delegation has just weighed anchor, & should be at yr shores w/in the business quarter! One way or another, we will infuse yr stories w/ the stuff of life āŗļø The time for raggedy, dead-eyed spook shows is over! Two-bit journalistic stagecraft is at the end of its line. Picture it w/ us:
Human interest stories w/ real, live human beings.
Dramatic longreads whose āvillainsā have earned their roles thru documented actions, & whose most endearing characters may be played š® even by members of our shared queer community.
W/in the business quarter, this new era will be at hand š Ty, readers, for sticking w/ us in the meantimeā goodbye for now, & we hope to meet up w/ all of you someday for delicious drinks, & even more delicious stories, in that magical, faraway land.
*****