You know what really gets my fuckin’ goat?…this:
That little kid is Omran Dagneesh. He’s Syrian. His house got bombed, with him in it. You can find all kinds of info about him in this week’s news.
What riles me up about this shit is, of course–primarily–that a kid has to put up with this kind of bullshit. Lots of kids. Thousands of them.
I don’t give a shit that this happened in Aleppo, or Syria, or anywhere. I don’t give a fuck about the politics and tangled webs that led all the causality and physics to have ordnance dropped on this kid’s house. No…what’s pissing me off about this commercialized part of it all is that this fuckin’ kid gets pulled out of the rubble by someone (well done, by the way), gets secured in an ambulance [alone]…and then gets to fucking sit there like a zoo animal for the small team of expert journalists, bloggers, and passersby to photo and video.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Omran is five-years-old. I’m pretty sure I was still shitting my pants and pissing the bed at five. His family, at the time this video was taken, was still under the deconstructed pieces of his home. And he gets to sit there in complete shit-shock and try to contextualize what the fuck just happened, why the fuck he’s there, where the fuck his family is, and why the fuck everyone is staring, pointing, and filming.
The media is latching onto Omran like he’s the closing argument of some shitty term paper, giving him props for not crying, (strong kid, I agree.) They are spelling out how fucked up his life must be, (I’d agree,) using Omran, his family, and his situation to vie for some angle and prove some point.
And the whole time I’m sitting here scratching my head as to why none of those fucking clowns are in there with him trying to tell him shit’s gonna be okay (not that it ever actually will be). No one. Not a fucking one.
They start stacking those kids in there–kid after kid–buckling them in, on seats or stretchers. And all those other people just hang back and film…
All the news can do out here in the outside world is monologue and exploit; spinning and using his misfortune to drive home some grand paradigm.
This video, to me, highlights–with dirty Vegas neon sex-lights–the exact problem with this whole farce: those on the ground were more concerned with getting it all captured for upload than they were with comforting a fucking kid; and the REMFs here on the networks are happy to have it all.
I’m not saying no one there or here were/are moved by Omran’s plight… but I am saying that the dividends earned by that footage *FAR* outweighed any decision to give a fuck about a bombed Syrian kid.
No matter how fucking hardcore you are about whatever you are hardcore about, if you prioritize that above–as Snake Plissken so tersely puts it–“human compassion,” you can forget about having any real systemic integrity in your endeavor.
Your spoon-fed information outlets have offered up Omran–as quickly as the pilots who bombed the shit out of his house–to the gods of Industrial Mass Media. That video is him prostrate on the altar, awaiting sacrifice.
Every system imaginable failed Omran and all those like him, prior to him getting rescued from that rubble. Good thing there were cameras there to get it all.