So, apparently stories about rights and justice lack broad appeal unless they involve a dead white kid. My short commentary on the masses’ outrage over the result of the recent circus-trial spread like wildfire through the interwebs, despite my not even mentioning the defendant’s oh-so-loathed name anywhere in the piece. It got more hits than everything else I’ve written to date combined. The two stories that followed BOTH involved blow-up doll-related crimes and (lack of) prosecutorial discretion (and I think were quite funny and informative), and they have captured an audience roughly the size of a single NFL team roster (but with undoubtedly better average reading skills.)
This story has neither. I haven’t seen any blow-up doll stories in a couple days, and I don’t yet know exactly what to write about the most recent horrific killing of a child. You can safely bet that it will not be a very popular viewpoint, as it will certainly claim the defendant deserves silly constitutional-protection-type-stuff like due process. Regardless of the position I take, it will likely reach a much larger audience than whatever I write in the interim about the daily chipping away at our rights that few seem to care about.
Turns out, this is not a story at all. I guess I am just venting about our priorities as a people and the incentive we provide to the media by preferring as a market to consume violence and tragedy rather than knowledge and insight.
So maybe I won’t get famous writing about rights and “justice” (unless I write only about the rights of people accused of killing white children), but at least when what little is left of rights and justice no longer exists, the 50 of you out there reading this will have been warned. (Tell your friends. They don’t know it, but they are going to miss rights and justice, and they will be mad when they find out you knew.)
And now I’m off to search for more sex toy stories. (I have now used the phrase “blow-up doll” in three straight.)