Friday, January 16, 1998

Life and death in the manic cafeteria

By Bob Greene

As one year ended and another began, the newspapers were full of those Top 10 Stories of 1997 lists. Time to toss those out and begin compiling candidates for the Top 10 Stories of 1998.

But before we do, it might be instructive to take a look not at the news stories themselves, but at how we in the American public have become conditioned to dealing with them. About 10 years ago, an author named Neil Postman published a book with one of the most prescient titles I have ever read. The book -- about how modern media have changed the way we look at our world -- was called Amusing Ourselves to Death.

Its thesis was that we have become so immersed in rapidly developing events, that the news is being delivered to us so quickly and so constantly, everything inevitably becomes trivialized. Nothing sticks. It's as if the news of the day -- tragic news, historic news, entertaining news, sobering news -- is all one big salad bar and that we have no other choice but to gorge ourselves, and then gorge some more.

One story that occurred at the end of last year -- the death at age 33 of comedian Chris Farley -- serves as a numbing example of how our insatiable, yet empty-feeling, addiction to new-news stimuli is evolving.

Farley's body was still lying in his condominium in Chicago's John Hancock Center when, on the worldwide computer network, his official biography had already been revised. The police were still standing guard at the entrance to the residential section of the Hancock, the television crews were still setting up for their live shots, and already, under "Vital Statistics" on Farley's biographical page, the entry read: "Date of Birth: February 15, 1964. Date of Death: December 18, 1997."

He hadn't even been carried out of the Hancock yet. On one page of the computer network, next to The Associated Press story reporting Farley had died, was a clickable link to "The Chris Farley Web Ring." A click on the icon next to the report of his death, and there was a color photo of Farley and his fellow actor David Spade with their arms around each other, and the invitation: "This page contains all the info you need to become a member in our ring -- for FREE!"

The medical examiners were still looking at Farley's body. But the amusing-ourselves-to-death machine was speeding ever forward. On ABC News' computer-network site, a "slide show" had been constructed -- sort of like a television news piece, but with rapidly changing still pictures instead of videotape. And sound: Along with a news correspondent's voice saying Farley was dead, there was a photo of Farley performing in a comedic scene, and his actual voice from the skit: "Hey, there's even a fridge! This is great!"

Near this report was another icon, inviting people to "Click here for shoe, clothing and accessory gift ideas." For those who preferred not to shop, but to keep clicking around Chris Farley's life -- his body remained in the Hancock -- the Washington Post had set up an on-line interactive poll on its computer site. "Survey: Vote For Your Favorite Chris Farley Character. Andrew Giuliani? Chippendales Dancer? Drinkin' Buddy?" With another click on the same site: "Read Post reviews of Farley's films." And another click: "Clinton to Extend Bosnia Force."

Bosnia, Farley -- it's all the same in the manic cafeteria. The Los Angeles Times, on its computer site, was inviting one and all to "Share Your Thoughts on the Death of Comedian Chris Farley." Those who attempted to do so were greeted with a business proposition: "Welcome to Los Angeles Times Conferencing. To sign up for an account, please use our registration form" -- reachable via one more click.

MSNBC, on its site, ranked current news stories according to how much they appealed to the public: "Rated daily on a scale of 1 to 7 by msnbc.com viewers. Results are automatically updated every 60 seconds. To add your voice to the tally, simply cast your vote." The death of Farley -- he was still in the Hancock -- ranked only No. 3, with a composite rating of 5.87.

At CNN's computer site: "Comedian Chris Farley Dead at 33. Post Now! Discuss the death of Chris Farley now! Connect your chat client to server chat.turner.com."

Within days, Chris Farley would be buried in Wisconsin. And the amusing-ourselves-to-death industry would, of course, have already turned its gaze elsewhere. On the night of a ski accident in Colorado, on a national cable television network, the graphic behind the anchor's head would read: "A Kennedy Dies." Which Kennedy, for the moment, evidently didn't matter all that much. A hungry world waited.

Chicago Tribune