Of course the excuse this time around is that “well, we gave this so much big time coverage ten years ago [has it really been that long?] that we can hardly not crank it up again this time.”
In other words, craven then means craven now.
For instance, you could wait and see if the obviously slow-witted Boulder district attorney charges this weirdo, John Mark Karr, and that you’re not blasting out two weeks of stem to stern coverage of a bleedin’ false confession.
I’m about so sick of the broadcast and cable media that I can hardly take pleasure wrapping fish in the print edition of The New York Times anymore.
But one thing is for sure, if this Karr character isn’t charged and walks on whatever else is out there pending against him, he’s going to be the undisputed king of the pedophiles, with red carpets and roses thrown down before him around the whole wide pedophile world. Life will become one big Neverland Ranch for him.
And allowing myself one more comment. Despite the sordid nature of this story I got to like the Ramseys, the now late Patsy and her husband John. I found them ordinary enough people faced with an impossible horror. But what I could never reconcile with that seeming ordinariness was the little girl beauty pageant thing. Didn’t get that for a second. Never fit with anything I’ve ever known about parents and their attitudes toward their children. Perhaps there’s a cultural niche here that I just don’t grasp, but if I ever knew someone who paraded a child around like that, I don’t think that I could keep my mouth shut.
In spite of that, which just baffles me, I thought the Ramseys were O.K. people, unless of course one of them did kill the kid, which I find highly unlikely. But one never knows.