The line between censorship and ratings blur, so much that I couldn’t even see a line, I thought I wasn’t seeing clearly anymore, so I checked my prescription, turns out I’m fine. CNN is broadcasting images from Haiti, being on the road for a month they were the first I’d seen. Play, pause, rewind, slow motion on the bloody bodies, then a quick cut to commercials right after the screams. They are using tragedy to boost ratings, because with more views comes pricier advertising, and civil obedience through digital ten-eighty cadence, impartial my ass, you are just as bad as FOX. But I’ll lay still, I’ll pretend I’m dead, just tell me how to think and feel, tell me what to buy after what to dread, when I live on my knees, what’s one more kneel? And tell me what worse, living as a physical slave, or mentally agreeing to do whatever the pictures say? Our eyes are turning into static and snow, glowing like HD LED TVs, our fingertips have turned into credit cards, I can’t wait to see what can each distinctive line buys me, and I can’t wait to feel the frigid digital snow, and hear the analog sirens glow. Breaking news! We’re under attack! This just in! Listen for something imperative! It feels like the world is closing in, as the logos multiply around the anchor’s head
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