Given the ubiquity of porn and the liberties people take on social networks, the notion that some things are too private to share seems as old-fashioned as bloomers. But what is truly novel is that grownups are competing with teenagers to offend all notions of public decency and discretion in this respect.
Imagine what this portends for public debate – having politicians and corporate CEOs compete with entertainers and wannabe celebrities to see who can attract the most twits with their mindless tweets on everything from public policy to daily gossip…
This is why I firmly believe that Twitter has about as much redeeming value as Twinkies. And it’s why the mainstream media are no better than Hostess. Because the contrived tweets (i.e., junk thoughts) of self-promoting buffoons like Trump would never enter public consciousness, let alone public discourse, if networks like FOX did not routinely report them as BREAKING NEWS.
(“Twitter Rant: Take 2,” The iPINIONS Journal, November 27, 2012)
Therefore, I am hardly surprised that, during his mother’s dying moments, NPR host Scott Simon spent almost as much time tweeting his followers as he did cherishing her.
No doubt he thought the public would derive some facing-death benefit from this virtual intrusion into what is generally considered a private and solemn occasion, which, in this case, took place at his mother’s bedside in the Chicago hospital room where she died of cancer on Monday.
Unfortunately, Simon’s tweets just seem self-indulgent and trite – especially when juxtaposed with sportswriter Mitch Albom’s tuesdays with Morrie or professor Randy Pauch’s lecture series on (his) dying days:
Mother & I just finished a duet of We’ll Meet Again. Every word has meaning. Nurse looks in, asks, ‘Do you take requests?’ 2:17 AM – 27 Jul 2013
I love holding my mother’s hand. Haven’t held it like this since I was 9. Why did I stop? I thought it unmanly? What crap. 10:30 PM – 28 Jul 2013
Heart rate dropping. Heart dropping. 7:27 PM – 29 Jul 2013
The heavens over Chicago have opened and Patricia Lyons Simon Newman has stepped onstage. 8:17 PM – 29 Jul 2013
According to the July 30 edition of the New York Post, Simon says he tweeted because:
I think my mother has a lot to say to a lot of people and I’m not embarrassed to share it.
Embarrassed, of course, is the operative word here. Because only one whose ego inoculates him from embarrassment can think there’s any socially redeeming value in making a public spectacle of such a private moment. Apropos of this, what else explains FOX News host Geraldo Rivera sharing a semi-nude “selfie” recently because he thought it said a lot about “70 being the new 50?”
Except that, just as Geraldo surely knew the only reason for tweeting his beefcake photo was to feed his own ego, Simon surely knew the only reason for tweeting his mother’s dying moments was to bask in what little was left of her fading glow.
Unsurprisingly, Simon’s media colleagues are milking his sappy tweets for all they’re worth. After all, they would probably do the same if they thought it would generate a ratings boon or evoke the kind of public embrace Simon is now wallowing in.
Ironically, though, even media critics seem too polite (or dare I say, too embarrassed) to note the contradiction posed by Simon tweeting many more of his own bereaved musings than his mother’s dying words.
Which brings me to the only socially redeeming value for even bothering to comment (or lament as the case might be): At long last people, is nothing too private or sacred to share? Indeed, if dying moments can go viral in this fashion, how soon before birthing moments – complete with genitalia views that would make even a porn star blush – follow suit?
For the sake of what little remains decent and discreet, I beg you, don’t buy into the conceit that the public is waiting with bated breath for you to share the most profoundly private details of your life. And this is doubly so for those of you who don’t seem to appreciate that perhaps those narcissistic self-portraits are called selfies because you’re meant to keep them to yourself.
I realize of course that this is like preaching sobriety to a bunch of mindless junkies; after all, fame (even infamy) has replaced religion as the opiate of the people.
Related commentaries:
Twitter…