"The TV business is uglier than most things. It is normally perceived as some kind of cruel and shallow money trench through the heart of the journalism industry, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs, for no good reason." Hunter S. Thompson

This just in: O.J.’s guilty.  No, no, not of going nuts and killing his wife and her side squeeze, Ron Goldman.  Anyone with half a brain knows that to be true.  No, I’m talking about the over-the-top, breathless, moment by moment coverage of the Casey Anthony trial, an tawdry and sad affair remarkable only because…well, I am not sure that it was remarkable – that’s the thing.  It's OJ's fault.

As distasteful as it was, in the end it was about a mother being accused of killing her young child, something that is all too ordinary in today’s world.  It seems like every time you turn around there is a story of a mother freaking out and throwing her kids off a bridge or driving off a pier or, in the most recent and nightmarish case, putting one in a microwave oven and hitting the defrost button.  (This last incident is one of those things that, try as I might, I cannot get my head around.  In my darkest moments I can understand how someone can feel overwhelmed by life’s cruel circumstances and hit the gas pedal, like Thelma & Louise.  That’s the kind of spur of the moment decision that – disturbing as it is – one can at least comprehend.  But shoving a baby in a microwave oven requires a level of craziness that is beyond anything I can imagine.)

But Anthony’s case involved a young, relatively attractive white woman who seemed normal, aside from the actual accusation.  So why did this case grab the admittedly short attention span of the public and create such a stir?  I have to admit, I didn’t watch 30 seconds of it – was barely even aware of it.  But judging by the reaction I was in the minority on that one.   Somehow the media can smell a story that will get readers and ratings and when they do they go into a frenzy.  The proof is right there; HLN, the network that was the primary outlet for coverage proudly announced that the verdict drew the highest ratings ever in their 29 year history.  There you have it, succinctly and neatly wrapped up in one sentence.  If one dysfunctional, lewd, tragic story can get those ratings you can bet your ass that there will soon be another tragic story airing in its place – after all, what else could the network do?  They have to find another one and start their obscene overheated coverage all over again.  I can only hope that Diane Sawyer and George Stephanopoulos go home at night, pour themselves a stiff cocktail and ask, “What the hell am I doing?”

Maybe it is the rise of reality shows on TV that explain it – utterly insipid and idiotic television shows have proliferated beyond all reason and perhaps the line gets a little blurry for some viewers.  Maybe they think it’s another iteration of the Law & Order franchise.   You know, sometimes on that show the guilty guy gets off – adds to the dramatic impact.   Maybe they’re waiting for Snooky to stand up looking like an overstuffed pork sausage and babble some incoherent gibberish at the judge and get herself summarily escorted out of the court room to appreciative murmurs all around. 

After OJ – the first real full-on televised celebrity lawyer / celebrity defendant / despicable crime / blonde girl victim / all media all the time drama-rama – we had another freakishly grotesque train wreck of a media mash-up  in the Terry Schiavo case, a preposterous but compelling convergence of 20^th century religiousity meeting political expediency in the steaming brothel of a 24 hour news cycle just finding its legs.  This tragic-comedy continued for years, but was covered intensely mostly at the end as her grief-stricken but sensible husband tried to take her off life support, only to have the curtain yanked back and find the whole fucking country arguing over his right to do so.   Dim-witted George Bush even made an emergency trip back to Washington, DC, to sign a bill attempting to stop him from exercising what he clearly thought would be her dying wish just to please the right-to-life wing of the republican party.

And of course we can’t forget the ultimate in over-the-top, paparazzi fueled indulgence and wallowing in grief and grim death, Princess Diana.  Although even harden celebrity addicts were sickened by the excessive and repulsive coverage of this bizarre and horrible accident, fascinated viewers created a ratings bonanza that only served to fuel the insatiable media apparatus and take it yet another level of perfidy and treachery and sliminess.

Now today, mere hours after this dirty little spectacle of a trial came to an end amidst gasps of outrage and sputtering pretension, there is talk of Casey getting her own reality show – no shit.  And there are undoubtedly multiple literary agents and publishing company reps surreptitiously slipping her and Baez their cards and offering an advance for books telling “their story”, as venal and vile and depressing as it may be.   And the TV networks are feasting on a goulash of viewer outrage, analysis by whoever they can get in front of a microphone and “opinions” by self important armchair psychologists.

The real question for me is, “Why do we care about this?”  A cute little girl who is a complete stranger dies a horrible death – OK, got it.  But cute little girls die horribly every day.  Why are there entire chat rooms devoted to people talking about the minutia of this case?  That’s an existential question, by the way – I don’t really expect anyone to have an answer.  I just hope it goes away soon.