When the medical staff heard he was politically connected, people started asking him for gossip.
“Sex sells,” admitted Weyrich, in a news commentary on www.FreeCongress.org. “But what does that say about us as a people that we would contribute to these ratings? Why do we get wrapped up in this on-going soap opera?” And what does it say about the state of cultural affairs that so many voters question whether they can judge Rep. Gary Condit?
That's life. That's our culture. Hurricane Chandra may have weakened, but it won't take much to revive it. Rest easy, consumers, it won't be long before another blast of what media scholar Quentin Schultze calls “hypernews” reaches our screens and rocks our souls.
“Viewers anticipate the plot. We take sides, cheer for our heroes and hope for the best. … It is real-life drama in actual time,” according to the Calvin College professor. “Hypernews is like a global extension of the human nervous system, putting our emotions on alert and immersing our minds in a chaotic blitz of anticipation. …
“Hypernews is a technological triumph, but a spiritual roadblock.”
Biblically speaking, time is crucial, he noted. There seems to be so little time to ponder what is happening in the world, let alone to pray about it. There's no time to think about news events, but “only to feel them.”
Get this — Schultze wrote those words a decade ago, in reaction to the Persian Gulf War and the hearings to confirm Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. This was before OJ, Tonya Harding, Princess Diana's funeral, Monica and Columbine. This was before The Drudge Report, Salon.com and today's satellite news wars. This was long before the Comedy Channel became a news source for millions.
Hypernews is no longer a novelty. It's normal.
Way back in the early 1990s, Schultze was concerned that the manic pace of the news was producing fear and anxiety, as opposed to understanding and hope. He noted that the ancient Psalmist called believers to, “Be still, and know that I am God.” This command now seems like a message from another planet.
“All news conveys its own implicit worldview,” said Schultze. “Hypernews tends to portray a world out of control, and in purely human hands. … If the world is a mere stage, with no eternal screenwriter, we are all in deep trouble.”
These days, Schultze is pondering the spiritual implications of life in the treacherous territory between information and gossip, between news and entertainment. His next two books will focus on the interaction between Christian faith and mass media and the all-too-hazy concept of ethics in cyberspace, that online zoo in which anonymous anecdotes rule and urban legends keep getting resurrected.
“Whether its rumors or gossip or some off-the-wall opinion piece, it really doesn't seem to matter much. It's all news to somebody. At least, it looks like news. It's in print,” he said. “In the digital world, information just explodes and takes on a life of its own. … We live in an age in which totally unsubstantiated rumors can affect the stock market. Our leaders have to react to this stuff, whether its true or not.”
Schultze doesn't think it's time to boycott the news. But gossip is a sin and cynicism is a spiritual acid that corrupts hearts and minds. His advice is simple: read the Bible, as well as the newspaper. Delete more email. When faced with hypernews, ponder its impact on others, especially children. Turn off the television, hold hands and pray. Calm down.
The goal, he said, is to “pray for our world as concerned citizens rather than as frenzied viewers. … Perhaps only the Good News can curb our appetite for hypernews.”
(Terry Mattingly is a senior fellow for journalism at the Council For Christian Colleges and Universities and a member of Holy Cross Orthodox Church in Linthicum, MD. He writes a weekly column for the Scripps Howard News Service.)
