Binging on Tragedy

US mass shootings and the commodification of tragedy

Well here we all are, back again for my favourite piece of regularly scheduled broadcasting: the US mass shooting. A somewhat derivative but inarguably entertaining re-boot of the British classic: colonial massacres.

This isn’t an example like Skins US where they’ve carbon copied our creative brutality and tweaked a few minor details, the modern US mass shooting is more like the US Office. The plucky young nation took what was great about the original mass killings, namely: death, political fallout and racial tensions, but put a uniquely American spin on it. Spree killers are no longer power crazy colonial commanders with musket battalions, now they’re deranged individuals with high powered assault rifles and poorly written manifestos/blogs. But what truly sets the modern American massacre apart from the rest, is not the crime itself but the ensuing discussion on the news and social media. The modern American massacre is an event unlike anything else you’ll see in our collective news culture. They’re like a good Netflix season with lots and lots and lots of episodes, although admittedly the market’s now a bit over saturated and they’ve become a bit formulaic.

First, the news breaks, in bright, punchy, graphics with words like ‘chaotic’ plastered across our screens. We all sit back and take a deep breath in. Equal parts horror and anticipation keep us glued to our screens, waiting to hear the newest ‘grisly’ details. First it’s vague multitudes of dead and a place name, ‘several’ then ‘scores’ and maybe if we’re lucky, it reaches ‘dozens’. We all check our phones, turn to one another and say

‘God isn’t this terrible?
How many?
What’s happening in the world?’

Then it’s the details as the dust settles. This is always the best bit, the mid-season finale if you will. Shaky iPhone footage from the scene of the crime, B roll of ambulances speeding past, played on loop. We watch as news drips into the ears of equally ill-informed reporters and they share with us the latest gory details. They’re like that friend who’s read the books and spoils it all, but at this point, none of us care, we smell blood. Our fascination with death is normalised by its ubiquity across society. We live in a society that has monetised tragedy, monetised our attention. A massacre makes for good news and lots of it.

In the following days we get the background reports. Otherwise innocuous stories of how the afflicted areas were once a “quiet town” where something like this would “never happen”, all juxtaposed against the horrors we know to have taken place. Later, comes the off the cuff sound bites from the perpetrators neighbours about how he seemed like a “normal guy… quiet, but normal”.

This time he’s from Uzbekistan

This time Daesh wasn’t affiliated

This time he was on anti-depressants

This time he bought a gun legally

(Let’s face it, it’s a he)

This time it was children who died

This time, was the worst one ever

It’s within this minutia of boring details in which we typically lose interest. The atrocity has become like a series that should only have 6 episodes that goes on for 13. But like a Walking Dead fan we power on into the realm of repetition that so defines our fascination with mass shootings.

We listen attentively to the news, as the flurry of sexy details slowly but surely dries up, so too do the reserves of our attention. We read the statements of our chosen lawmakers in the subtitles of a Facebook video, one we didn’t bother to click on, before we scroll past to watch cooking tutorials. We engage with and enjoy the discussion that supports our own political take on the issue and ultimately we don’t let what has happened change us in any meaningful way. After all, each new shooting suits a slightly different audience, some are more popular with left, some are more attuned to the right.

The most recent American massacre in Texas is the massacre equivalent of Netflix’s, The Defenders. At this point, with everything that has come before it, it makes total sense for a show like The Defenders to have happened. With the climate that exists, we barely even register when atrocities like The Defenders happen. It just feels like a natural continuation of everything that has come before, given that almost no action has been taken to stop mediocre super hero mashups from happening. A malaise has enveloped us after repeated exposure to horror; no one even batted an eye when Zach Snyder released the trailer for the Justice league. We’ve resigned ourselves to a society plagued by forgettable super hero ensemble projects, it now feels like one happens every few months.

No matter how high the stakes are raised, the outcome is the same. Bodies piled high, tears on our TV screens, couples standing defiantly on capitol hill saying ‘something must be done’. Nothing being done. Our obsession with death isn’t going anywhere, the news has always been a voyeuristic experience letting us engage in horrors from a safe distance. It’s hard not to be jaded, it seems that this is a pattern we’re doomed to repeat.

The tone of this may seem flippant for what is objectively a tragedy, like I’m not taking this issue seriously. I’m not. I refuse to take it seriously anymore because the world doesn’t either. The world surrounding mass death has become an industry. Any expression of sentiment is theatre we’re all obligated to engage in and it’s a routine I’m sick of.

Related posts:

Every day most of us wake up wanting to make healthy food choices. Unfortunately, there is so much information that we tend to get lost in all the health and fitness noise. Every where you turn you…

RIP Hollywood beauty Stella Stevens, 84, an underrated actress who had a gift for comedy. Born in Mississippi, she was raised in Memphis. Married at 15, a mom at 16, divorced at 17, she was…