Striking a blow to the news, cynicism
LIKE MOST writers I know, I have been, since early November, fully supportive of the strike by the Writers Guild of America against the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers. Important issues are at stake. Among other things, there's the question of writers' residuals from DVD sales and the contentious matter of royalties related to broadcasting via "new media."
To be honest, I have no idea what any of that means, but as a marginally productive novelist, I get a warm feeling knowing that many thousands of writers are out there following my daily work regime of not writing.
In terms of personal sacrifices, the impact of the strike was at first minimal. I don't currently write for movies or television, and I have no plans to do so in the immediate future - unless, of course, someone asks me. Most of my time in front of the television is spent watching infomercials (sadly, a dying art) and "The Dog Whisperer," neither of which has been affected by the work stoppage.
But in the last few weeks, my patience has started to crumble. The absence of "The Daily Show" and "The Colbert Report" has been taking its toll.
These Comedy Central programs are frequently and proudly described by Jon Stewart, host of "The Daily Show," as "the fake news." Edgy and unapologetically biased, they deconstruct national politics using an arsenal of comic techniques - satire, parody, and the juxtaposition of film clips that reveals the inconsistencies, inaccuracies, and just plain foolishness of so much that comes out of Washington. Stephen Colbert's character on "The Colbert Report" is a devastating mockery of Bill O'Reilly's on-air windbag persona. Stewart has done some hard-hitting interviews, but even in those, you can see him setting up the next joke.
You could argue that the popularity of these shows reflects the growing cynicism of the electorate. But after a month and a half of watching what I guess should be called "the real news," it has become clear to me that the Katie Courics and Brian Williames of the world aren't equipped with the tools required to deal with the current political environment.
If desperate times call for desperate measures, then "the fake news" is called for to deal with an administration that seems to be addicted to fake intelligence reports to go to war, fake science to determine what medical research is carried out, and faked concern about nuclear threats.
When things get this serious, only comedy will tell the truth.
Take, for example, the story, leaked to the press earlier this month, that the National Intelligence Estimate concluded Iran stopped its nuclear weapons program in 2003.
At a press conference in early December - at which, as far as I could tell, no stand-up comedians were present - President Bush said he hadn't been told about the report until late November. The "real news" people were forced to sit and listen, respectfully straight-faced, and then ask a few earnest follow-up questions, as if there was anything remotely plausible about the president's assertions. "Really?" they asked. "You weren't told until late November? While the calls for military action against Iran were getting louder and your own rhetoric warning of a nuclear World War III was heating up?" Hmmm.
Bush conceded that in late August, Mike McConnell, the national intelligence director, said there was "new information" on Iran, but added that "he didn't tell me what the new information was."
When someone's making a fool of you, you either respond with irony that pierces to the core of their game, or you take what they're saying at face value - in which case, the joke's on you.
While Bush is the one who should have come off as an inept comedian, damp with flop sweat as his routine bombed, it was the "real news" reporters who looked ridiculous. Bush, apparently sensing his advantage, upped the ante by referring to NBC's David Gregory as "an august reporter such as yourself" with stinging sarcasm worthy of Rodney Dangerfield.
I longed to hunker down in front of "the fake news" that night and watch Stewart's comically exaggerated looks of disbelief express the reactions of any thinking person. I longed for Colbert's support of Bush, which, through its hilarious exaggeration, exposes the contorted logic needed to believe in the president's carefully scripted talking points.
Instead, I was forced to watch reporters on "the real news" standing outside the White House in their gloves and dark coats, looking very much like clowns. And that just wasn't funny.
The announcement last week that both Comedy Central shows are planning to go back on the air in early January should, therefore, feel like a wish fulfilled. But the implications are not clear. The plans to broadcast without a writing staff could complicate the negotiations and present another hurdle for the Writers Guild. Stewart and Colbert released a statement that read: "We would like to return to work with our writers. If we cannot, we would like to express our ambivalence, but without our writers we are unable to express something as nuanced as ambivalence."
Clever, but for some reason, I wasn't laughing.
Stephen McCauley, a guest columnist, has written five novels and teaches at Brandeis.
