De ja vous on the death-love of the news media

There are real people who died and there are real people who are still living -- among them, Virginia Tech students and/or families of those who were killed or wounded.

And then there are the repulsive vermin who make their living skittering and slithering onto the campus and sticking cameras and microphones into the faces of those stunned and traumatized.

And of course, the blood-suckers staying at home and speculating from the studios.

Like they've been given a gigantic Deathbay Cake with chocolate-blood icing and torn-flesh filling.

Yum-yum, eh?

I'm something of a news junky, but the last time I saw this kind of repugnant lip-licking salivating over all the dead bodies and the crying survivors was after the double-deck pre-Thanksgiving San Francisco BayArea death spree of the murders of George Moscone and Harvey Milk followed by the Jonestown Massacre.

Not only enough local tie-in death for all, but even talk of shadowy CIA connections, religious cultiness, a dead congressman, and all the rest*

Some time after that, I was astounded by what I saw on TV -- I was watching a news report from Portland, Oregon. A commercial airliner had crashlanded in a park in the city and the reporter -- I swear this is true! -- was obviously RELIEVED that no one had been killed.

A wonderful moment, even though I'm certain the networks found the reporter too small time to be considered for the Big Time.


*Just for a meaningless historical correction that won't make anything change -- the fatal drink in Jonestown was NOT KOOL-ADE but an off-brand (just like Jim Jones' half-assed religion), FLAVOR-ADE.



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