Modern manipulation of the media might very well have exceeded anything Orwell envisioned. His nightmare was overt control of the message, whereas the true form is insidious and subtle. I remember very distinctly working as a reporter during the mid-term election and coming across a Republican*** rally being held outside my apartment complex (I lived around the corner from the Republican party election headquarters in Cambria County.)
I was enjoying a rare day off and trying to do those enjoyable things one does with that time, like laundry and grocery shopping when I came back to find no parking at my place. There were about 100 people at the event and maybe a handful of members of the press. I was unshaven, dressed in a hoodie and track pants as I begrudgingly parked a block away and walked home through the crowd. I didn't see one of our reporters, so I called another editor and asked if they needed coverage (you always have your reporter kit and camera on you or in your car.) Thankfully, we did not need coverage so I moseyed my way down to the crowd to say hello to a few of the reporters and camera people I knew. It was rather amusing because track pants and a hoodie was not really the rally dress code. In fact, there was a tremendous amount of Polo jersey and ironed jeans, khakis and perfectly coiffed hair going on.
Two of the communications directors for the party were standing next to the RV where the politicians (and they had a group there running for offices from the township to state level) were prepping inside. I sidled up to them and was pleasantly surprised to not be recognized. Hooray for the hoodie, I thought. The communications guys were busy pointing out the press in the crowd and making quick assessments on how to approach them with the message. Reporter from a local television station: "WJAC. Works off the release. Not a problem." Reporter from a local newspaper: "Tribune-Democrat. They'll push local." Reporter from the Altoona Mirror: "That guy's smart. Watch him."
I also immediately noticed that there weas far more recording of the event from the party side of the rally than the reporting side. I was intrigued, and counted five different platforms officially working the crowd that included high-end digital cameras, hand-held digital cameras, phone video, standard news-style video and two-person high-definition rig that cost somebody at least $25,000. Why not just rely on the high-end crew for the work, it shoots beautiful photos and video, I asked myself.
That became clear over the next two months. That one rally with 100 participants showed up in more than a dozen different party releases on the Internet in various forms. There were beautifully slick shots from the high-end platforms used for official advertisements.***** There were grainy Youtube videos of the supposedly grassroots nature embedded within various Tea Party forums. There were emails and flyers and newsletters all with coverage taken from event and designed to resonate with different demographics. It was very much like watching the same moment in time from a dozen different perspectives.
This is the world we live in now and we can see it forming in Orwell's narrative. Who, among us, can tell the truth when so many are lining up to control the worldview and message?
*If you aren't watching the television show "Archer," you should consider it just for the literary references. And, you know, if you want to see some of the better comedy writing going on in that medium.**
**Random quote from that show. I personally do not believe Animal Farm sucked.
***It happens with Democratic message too, I just didn't witness an event like this being hosted by that party, so I was trying to observe without bias.****
****Actually, I do get to bias publicly a lot now that I'm no longer a credentialed member of the press. Hooray for getting to vote again! But that's not the point.
*****Funny note. When the groups working the crowd panned across me in my sorry state, they invariably cut away from the shot. In fact, the high definition crew went so far as to whip-pan up and around my hoodie-wearing ass twice. Guess I wasn't projecting the right kind of America that day.
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