The man who called Barack
Obama's re-election a travesty said Republicans could gain control of
the budget showdown because they "are sitting there with a nuclear
weapon": the specter of voting against a rise in the debt ceiling in the
coming weeks. In other words, the GOP could get its way by again
threatening to push the country into default.
The remarkable thing here
is not Trump's apocalyptic advice but that the man who still doesn't
concede that the president was born in Hawaii draws attention no matter
what he says. The colorful businessman has a knack for hijacking the
media -- and he's hardly alone.
In fact, one of the most
striking developments in recent years is how easy it is to carry out the
hijacking. You don't need a weapon, nuclear or otherwise. You don't
have to be a famous zillionaire to pull it off. In the Twitter age,
almost anyone can capture the spotlight for 15 seconds.
We're so easy. If it's new, novel or naughty, we are there.
A critical mass of
tweeters hijacked the presidential debates
by turning Big Bird and
"binders full of women" into trending topics. What, you thought what was
most important was what the candidates said during those 90-minute
face-offs? Nope, it's just as much about winning the post-game chatter. A
single "oops" by Rick Perry enables the press to wipe out everything
else that was said.
Clint Eastwood, telling
Obama (in the guise of an empty chair) to perform an anatomically
impossible act? That hijacked Mitt Romney's convention.
Eric Fehrnstrom
inadvertently hijacked his boss' campaign when he compared Romney's
election strategy to an Etch A Sketch. Nothing like a kid's toy to seize
the attention of grown-up journalists.
Any invocation of a celebrity has great hijacking potential, even if the story is a sprinkling of fairy dust.
The political press
recently surrendered to the notion that Ben Affleck might run for John
Kerry's Senate seat in Massachusetts. This was based on nothing more
than local chatter, amplified by Politico. Affleck shrewdly kept the
door ajar -- such speculation helps in the gravitas department --but on
Christmas Eve, he gave the press a lump of coal by admitting he wasn't
running.
Next the media got excited by the idea that Ted Kennedy Jr. would run for office -- until he quickly popped that trial balloon.
Sometimes the hijacker wants no part of the limelight but is swept along for the ride.
Paula Broadwell was
embedded in the nation's consciousness for weeks after her affair with
David Petraeus prompted his resignation as CIA director. And her
romantic rival, Jill Kelley, became a captive as well.
Racial tension can grab the media's attention like few other issues.
There are more than
15,000 murders annually in the United States, but only a few move beyond
local headlines. The killing of Trayvon Martin, initially overlooked
even in Florida, became a national sensation once activists persuaded
the media that race played a role in the teenager's shooting (a
perception deepened by NBC's misleading editing of George Zimmerman's
911 call). Week after week of routine murders in cities such as Chicago
barely register on the radar.
Most journalists
gravitate toward sensational and sexy stories (and I haven't been immune
to the temptation) because we want the clicks and the ratings. And
perhaps to alleviate our own boredom with the daily grunt work of
reporting. The on-and-off negotiations over the fiscal cliff have been
tedious and incremental. Along comes Trump and boom, you've got an easy
headline.
The problem with all
this media hijacking goes beyond the strange twists and turns along the
way. It's that we cede control of what's important.
No comments:
Post a Comment