Pornography: Covering Haiti

I should feel no surprise.

I really shouldn't.

But (against all earned experience and solid instinct) I clicked the "on" button on my telly remote, and voici, voila: death porn, disaster porn.

Actually pornography - the prurience of the concealed angle, the alleged objectivity of the camera lens, the incipient fascism of predetermined experience, the glee and horror of commentary and condemnation.

The great white saviors  shown in image, explicitly, the stupid black indigenes implied, shown in modern sack cloth poses, perennial victims in need of some first world salvation.

Imaginary fates and unreal gods, sometimes my own disgust amuses me - the magnitude of it in the face of our primate worst.

And I don't mean distraught brown people facing one more calamity and the inevitable gentrification-as-foreign-aid.

I mean, by our primate worst, the fucking camera and the fucking people who peer into the distorting lens of "news" and "information."

I mean the fucking pornographers themselves.