“No one has ever asked to see my birth certificate. They know that this is the place where we were born and raised.”Seriously?
Healthcare reform? We'd rather hear about Obama's deadbeat Muslim dad.
Social Security? We want to know about Cindy McCain's millions. Welfare? The
only teen mother we're interested in -- now that Jamie Lynn Spears has delivered
-- is Bristol Palin.
It would be nice to think that the American public is smarter than this,
but time after time we turn to the story -- absurd or not -- because it's easier
to digest than a policy paper. And whether it's a candidate's operatives or his
enemies telling the tale, everyone knows the ones that stick are, just like what
dominates the new-fiction bestseller list, the most sensational. It's the same
impulse that has us slowing down as we drive by a traffic accident.
And in a world that only gets scarier, we need stories more than ever. We
especially need the catharsis we experience from hearing about other peoples'
suffering. When we were kids, we learned about Abe Lincoln reading by the light
of the fireplace, about George Washington who could not tell a lie, about
Patrick Henry who demanded liberty or death. But such stories just aren't good
enough any more. They can't compete with "Gossip Girls" or "Heroes." They
definitely cannot compete with the never-ending news.
In 1984, I was a production assistant for a political media consultant. We
had many Democratic clients, from a candidate for state Senate to Walter
Mondale. We wrote campaign slogans and produced 30-second spots like mini-movies that spun the candidates' narratives precisely. We told their stories honestly,
but we made them as dramatic as possible. As Alfred Hitchcock famously said,
"What is drama, but life with the dull bits cut out?" It was after my year in
politics that I moved to Hollywood. The kind of storytelling that happens here
feels more honest.
Read the entire op-ed by Diana Wagman at the LA Times
