All material © 2007 by D. Scott Apel. All rights reserved.
The owner of this material gives permission (and encouragement) to readers to reproduce and transmit electronically (but NOT in print form) the material in "Funny For Nuthin'" at no cost, as long as the author's by-line and the URL of The Impermanent Press are included in the transmission.
TEN SURE CURES FOR MEDIA MAULING
by D. Scott Apel
You've seen it happen a hundred times on "60 Minutes." Some poor schmo exits his office only to be accosted by a video crew brandishing cameras and mikes (and Mike). They've been laying in wait to pounce on the alleged offender, apparently on the assumption that if you catch someone off-guard, he'll confess everything.
This guerrilla tactic is known by numerous names, including "assault journalism," "ambush interviewing" and "media mauling."
It could happen to you even if you're innocent. And when you're caught like a fawn in headlights, what viewer can distinguish guilty fear from innocent surprise? What's needed is a media-savvy strategy to cover your butt in this time of crisis...or you could end up a victim.
Consider this example: Political and media columnist Jeff Greenfield not so long ago found himself on the other side of the line: the prey rather than the predator. He turned his experience into a column ("Walking the line of propriety, and crossing it," San Jose Mercury News, Oct. 2, 1994) in which he described the situation and his reaction to it. The response of this intelligent media professional provides us with some guidelines on how to handle such a situation but only by negative example.
Mr. Greenfield made three basic mistakes in dealing with the assault. First, he attempted to maintain his dignity by politely declining comment. Silly rabbit! Apparently it slipped his mind that calm rationality does not make good tabloid TV. These crews want an emotional meltdown. Next, he attempted to lecture his assailants on journalistic ethics, admonishing them for their guerrilla tactics. They just struck back harder, of course. Is there anything on earth that provokes antagonism faster than some stuffy prig's holier-than-thou moral outrage at your actions? And when it comes from a colleague, it hits doubly hard. Finally, Mr. Greenfield allowed himself to be engaged in debate. "Never wrestle with a pig," goes an old adage; "it just gets you dirty and makes the pig happy."
But if even a savvy media professional like Mr. Greenfield can be bested by the BullyCam, what hope do the rest of us have in defending ourselves against the instant jury of the peering camera?
As an aid in preparation, I've devised ten specific strategies for manipulating a media mauling if when it happens to you. In many cases, the media itself has supplied the inspiration for its own subversion.
Some of these strategies will keep you off the air. Others will get you on to your advantage. One of these defenses might prove ideal for you. Memorize it. Rehearse it. Or simply use these ten suggestions as inspirations to write your own script.
And when your time comes, you'll be prepared to meet the press, face the nation and walk away a winner. After all, why should your 15 minutes of fame have you cast in a bad spotlight?
1. The de Tourette Defense. This simplest of strategies consists of two parts. First, raise the middle fingers of both hands directly in front of your face, and keep them there. Second, chant the "F" word loudly and repeatedly. Not one second of this footage, video or audio, will ever be broadcast. Guaranteed.
2. The Divinity Defense. You've got a camera pointed at you and thousands of people hang on your every word. Don't waste this unique opportunity by answering some mundane question flung at you by an obnoxious intruder or special prosecuter. Instead, raise the conversation to a higher plane by explaining your deepest beliefs to the multitudes. Some examples: If you're a Christian, recite John 3:16, and explain what it means to your spiritual life. If you read Joseph Campbell, spread the message that "The meaning of life is the experience of living." If you're a Buddhist, jog our memory that "All life is sorrow," but that salvation can be achieved by detachment from desire. Tell the world your love for your spouse grows every hour of every day. (And if you're not sure what your deepest belief is, maybe it's time to think about that for a while...)
3. The "Rain Man" Defense. Answer every question in the manner of Dustin Hoffman's Raymond Babbitt character in the superb film Rain Man. Unfocus your eyes and merely repeat everything the reporter asks. Preface every answer with "Definitely, definitely," and punctuate your parroting with classic Rain Man insights; e.g., "I'm an excellent driver," "About a hundred dollars" and "Uh-oh! Two minutes to Wapner!" If you wish to be more timely, forget Rain Man and merely remind us that "Lahf is lak a box o' choc-o-lates..."
4. The Self-Defense Defense. Treat this ambush as you would any other mugging or street assault. Spray the camera lens with mace or paint. Set off your 120-decibel sound alarm. Blow your rape whistle. But remember: It is not your intention to do bodily harm, merely to protect yourself.
5. The "Shoot the Moon" Defense. Do these TV S.W.A.T. teams think they're going to catch you with your pants down? Well, if that's what they want, why disappoint them? Instead, just moon them. That's right, drop trou and touch your toes. Sure, they'll take the tape back to the studio and laugh at you in the editing suite. But you can bet your moon that the clip will never get any airtime. (This might be considered a last defense for the aggressively guilty and might actually help, if you intend entering an insanity plea...)
6. The "Classified Channel" Defense. Similar to the Divinity Defense, but eminently more practical. If some station is intent on getting a statement from you, ignore their questions and perform your own commercial. It's like getting free airtime to plug your business! A spin-off is the "Want Ad Defense": "I've got a '58 Chevy for sale, in cherry condition low mileage; all original parts and paint. Call me in care of this station!"
7. The Paranoia Defense. Pretend you're a part of the conspiracy. Lambaste the crew for showing up early. Make sure they memorized "that list of questions I want you to ask me." Point out that this little scheme isn't gonna work unless you all rehearse it a few times. Wink and nudge when they "pretend" they don't know what the hell you're talking about. Then joke about how you "sure hope you guys aren't taping this. That'd blow any credibility we want to establish!"
8. The "America's Funniest People" Defense. Sing a show tune! You know you've always wanted to. Now you've got a built-in audience! If you can't cut karaoke, tell a joke! A word of warning, however: Keep it clean, and avoid sexist and racist jokes if you don't, you could end up providing far more fodder for your foes than anyone ever expected. Try this one: "What did the guru say to the hot dog vendor? 'Make me one with everything!'"
9. The Howard Stern Defense. The best defense, the saying goes, is a good offense. And who's more offensive than media weasel Howard Stern? Take a tip from his execrable book: If tabloid TV terrorists invade your space, fight fire with flaming forest fire. Turn on them like a rabid pit bull on steroids. Launch a relentless verbal assault against their tactics and their ethics. Attack their program, their station, their sponsors, their prime time lineup, their choice of equipment. Vent your pent-up post-modern anger at the invasion of your privacy, at media culpability, at higher taxes, at over-emphasis on the President's sex life obvious media conspiracies! at racism, sexism, injustice, religious intolerance and those idiots on the Internet! Stand tall on your soapbox and prevent them from getting a word in edgewise. When they start packing up to leave, demand even more time. Follow them into their truck. Follow them to their next interview. Follow them back to their station. Then cut 'em loose. Just because they crossed the line in accosting you is no reason for you to stoop to their level. Besides, there's a thin line between playing the part of an obnoxious nuisance to drive home a point, and risking a court order to stop you from stalking them.
10. The "E.T." Defense. Pretend you're a big star being interviewed by a crew from "Entertainment Tonight." Avoid direct answers to any question. Instead, speak glowingly of every single person you've ever come in contact with. Humbly admit that you couldn't have made it this far without your loyal supporters that they are the reason you do what you do. Teary-eyed, refer to the recent tragedy/addiction-rehab from which you've gained new personal strength. Then smile a dazzling smile and remind the folks out there that "Life can be a wonderful gift." Oh, yeah... and don't forget to hum the theme song!
This final defense holds the promise of an additional reward: If you can master the "E.T." technique, you stand a good chance of becoming an elected official!
by
D. Scott Apel
We've got a new postman on our routea second postman, actually, whose sole assignment is to deliver, twice daily, the latest edition of America's most popular men's magazine: the full-color, photo-filled Victoria's Secret catalog. We got on their mailing list because once, many years ago, I ordered a pair of hose for my wife. I calculate that my minor purchase has, to date, cost Victoria approximately 1,000 times her profit in catalog mailings.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I love men's magazines. When I first began receiving Victoria's Secret, I was delighted. All it is, is photos, photos, photosno messy text taking up valuable cheesecake space.
But I soon became disillusioned. There seemed to be some sort of sinister trade-off at work. Sure, the photo layouts in Victoria's Secret begin the same way they do in Playboy, Penthouse and many other popular men's magazines: beautiful women lounging around in titillating lingerie. The difference is that in Playboy, when you turn the page, they've removed the lingerie. In Victoria's Secret, when you turn the page, they're merely wearing different underwear. Sometimes when you turn the page, the women are actually fully dressed, as though they were finished with you and were leaving for work (where they'll just get undressed again, I guess).
There's a name for women like this: unobtainable. If I didn't know better (or if I bothered to read the text), I might suspect that this entire magazine was little more than an attempt to sell underwear. While Victoria's Secret magazine has done away with the pretext of text, the editors have also eliminated the nudity. This, to me, is not a fair trade. On the other hand, it is free. What more could I expect if I subscribed, I wonder?
(I also have reason to believe that Victoria's Secret might actually be a kinky underground fetish publication as well. Most photos reveal the midriff, but in a suspiciously high percentage of those photos in which the models are wearing shirts, they are posed with one hand raising the shirt to expose their belly button. For those to whom the navel rates as a high-priority sex organ, Victoria's Secret must rank among the most pornographic publications on the planet.)
Of the dozen women regularly featured in Victoria's Secret, there are only twelve whom I really desire. I gaze fondly upon page after page of their familiar faces and feet and knees and navels. And we're treated to the occasional mystery appearance of supermodel Elle MacPherson. At first I was confused by her infrequent photos. I thought, perhaps, that I was only fantasizing her facemuch like during actual sex. But now I believe her one-off appearances are more like "Where's Waldo?" for adult men (well, post-pubescent men, anyway). Whenever I spot Elle, I know exactly where my waldo is.
I have, in addition to the teasing non-nudity, other problems with Victoria's Secret magazine, as well. For one, it's not always strictly truthful. Yesterday's cover boldly announced "All bras and panties half off," yet the models all remained fully clothed.
The models themselves are a source of mystery, too. Each issue contains hundreds of photos of the same handful of womenexcuse me; the same few womenalways in different lingerie. And the number of issues are legion. Where do they find the time to pose for all these photos? When do they find the time to change into all those outfits? (And where are those photos?)
Although I know that my chance of ever getting close to one of these ideal females is a figure so statistically insignificant from zero as to be indistinguishable from zero, I content myself with believing that these picture perfect femmes must spend so much time each day posing and changing that they have no time to date any men, not just not me. And I'll bet they can't wait to go home after a tough lingerie day, scrape off their makeup, and slip into some thing thick, bulky, and shapeless.
Of course the solution to who these women are and how they accomplish the multitude of modeling tasks they do is obvious. Like Playboy Playmates and Pamela Anderson Lee, they don't exist in real life. Like Jessica Rabbit, they exist only as digital images, which explains 1.) why they always look better than anyone ever actually could in real life; b.) how they can pose for thousands of perfect pictures every month; and iii.) how they can pose on beaches throughout the world without ever getting wet, burned or sandy. (If they are indeed just digital images, this is all the more reason that the Government should immediately institute a crash development program in Virtual Reality, and in allowing us to convert digital images into full-sensory, full immersion VR programs. This research could perhaps be funded from profits generated by the Post Office catalog delivery department.)
I have more thoughts on this subject (if "thought" isn't too strong a word), but I'm falling behind in my reading. And I think I hear the mailman coming...
All material © 2005 by D. Scott Apel. All rights reserved. http://www.impermanentpress.com
The owner of this material gives permission (and encouragement) to readers to reproduce and transmit electronically (but NOT in print form) the material in "Funny For Nuthin'" at no cost, as long as the author's by-line and the URL of The Impermanent Press are included in the transmission.
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