How far is too far in the world of journalism? That is perhaps the single most important question, one that plagues all writers, in today’s opinion-based and speculation oriented division of journalism.
What should we be able to say, how should we be able to say it and whose permission do we need? It’s a question with a hurried answer, because the clock is ticking, the cursor is blinking and the deadline is just around the corner.
News is news – nothing more. There are those who love and crave it. Then there are those who hate it.
Their work is of opinion (or viewpoint) which is based on a compilation of the author’s own beliefs instead of facts. This is often a world which requires readers to think outside of the box, on the outskirts of statistics and strategies. So, where is the middle ground – the area where those who enjoy mythical facts and bogus predictions can freely express themselves? Thankfully, it’s not the East Tennessean.
Tabloids are those trashy, filthy things your great-grandma keeps piled in a wicker basket by her recliner for light reading after the nightly news. She scans the pages and mumbles something about Britney Steer’s and Kevin Fenderline’s alleged sex tapes as her glasses slide slowly down the bridge of her nose. Those same pathetic excuses for reading are responsible for countless lawsuits and accusations regarding liability.
Celebrities are dying to be famous for their art – not the traces of cocaine in their compact mirrors or a couple of protruding ribs. No really, it’s true.
Tabloid covers feature the hottest (fictional) stories in Hollywood. They create predictions to future elections, Academy Award winners and even the date of the apocalypse (which is currently set at . oh wait, what time is it?). They busy themselves with age old stories of unsolved murders – countless issues feature the faces of Jon Benet Ramsey and Laci Peterson. Photos are retouched (thank you, Photoshop) and events are altered. Lives are ruined.
Just this year, the aforementioned Britney Spears broke down on national television for her first interview since becoming a mother and wife. Having her abilities constantly questioned, with photos of her faults as a mother making for hot gossip, she had finally been forced over the edge and to the point of no return.
Her tearful plea to be left alone was never answered and rumors still fly about the ex-pop princess and her current divorce from back-up dancer, Federline.
The liability factor seems to matter less and less with every tabloid that is created. Perhaps there is no such thing as ‘too far’ in the fast-paced world of national journalism.
Even the celebrities seem to be becoming more accustomed to the lies that make for entertainment for their fans.
Fewer lawsuits prove that the past limitations are falling away without much opposition. Instead, celebrities sing their songs about rumors (Lohan), prerogatives (Mrs. Federline once again) and craving the attention instead of hating it (Hilton).
A new show premiering this January on FX features Courteney Cox acting as the editor of a tabloid appropriately named Dirt (also the show’s name).
The show’s preview features a song that has the lyrics, “this time you’ve come too far” playing in repetition. They speak entirely for the show’s theme, which is insanely humorous considering Cox’s real-life status as a celebrity. In the trailer, her character is shown going to great lengths to get the scoop on celebrities and even goes as far as to mention strap-ons and her desire for a photograph of a celebrity corpse. In a sense, she plays the part of her greatest enemy: the paparazzi. Still, her determination is evident and her job is serious.
I’m not sure why these writers of tabloids find comfort in the idea of creating false tales about individuals with whom they are in no way affiliated. They make inaccurate assumptions based on paper-thin proof. If two separately married co-stars are having lunch on their break from the set – the tabloids guarantee their engagement by the next sunrise. If a common illness has a singer’s throat in need of assistance then she is a lip-syncing liar. If the wind blows fabric in the wrong direction and light hits it just right then someone’s pregnant.
The question of how far is too far still lacks an answer. I foresee a day when the digitally altered photos will have no restrictions and the depth of a scoop will have no level. It might even be a day when tabloids carry age restrictions for purchase. “You must be 18 years or older to purchase this issue of the Enquirer . featuring Jesse McCartney and the ‘glory’ hole in one!” Times are changing fast – kiss the law books and privacy buh-bye.
All I can say is, DON’T BUY THEM! It’s fairly simple and even though they are occasionally hard to walk by, try to look the other way. By purchasing these ‘magazines’ you’re contributing to the invasion of privacy and giving a whole new definition to what freedom of speech may mean. Just stick to your EZgamer, Cosmo and Playboy. At least their intentions are straightforward enough.
Do that and I promise that when you’re famous, walking the red carpet with your dress hanging a little low around the rack or sporting a pair of too-tight slacks, I won’t be the one snapping your picture for next week’s “Fashion Faux Pas” issue. It’s the least I can do.
The world of tabloid is a tough one. It’s a place where the dirtiest secrets are revealed and if there aren’t enough for that week then they’re simply created out of thin air. It’s no place for numbers, facts or even well-constructed opinions.
The East Tennessean, on the other hand, is – and you had better be thankful that when your name shows up on these pages there’s no half-naked photo to keep its company.

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