Dial File: Hard truth behind a tragedy

Unintentional though it surely was, the juxtaposition was jarring.

Even sickening.

And alarmingly profound.

On cable news channels, network news breaks and local news inserts, bloodied teenagers, petrified parents and grim-faced SWAT cops in a Colorado town gripped our emotions and squeezed.

Desperate for a respite, this viewer took refuge at HBO Signature, which dusted off a 1997 "Dennis Miller" rerun with guest (and current Bally's headliner) George Carlin, who was in mid-rant, out-ranting even his rant-happy host.

"I wanna see death and destruction on television!" Carlin insisted in a mantra that has become a staple of his Vegas stand-up and HBO specials. "I hate it when the news is about some sort of bill that gets passed. I wanna see explosions! Dead bodies! Body parts! That's entertainment!"

I flinched -- then reluctantly acknowledged a painfully-timed truth. And timing doesn't get any worse, or -- in a way we're loathe to admit in the rush of revulsion we feel after Columbine High School exploded in violence -- any better.

Maybe even Carlin -- one of the gutsiest comedian-cum-social commentators ever to prowl a stage -- would have backed away from that observational bit if he were appearing on TV live Tuesday night, as death descended over Littleton, Colo. But at an emotional distance, Carlin's comment is uncomfortably funny and perversely true. It's no less true -- though considerably more uncomfortable and completely unfunny -- in the awful aftermath of the high school horror.

Still, the two-year-old echo of Carlin's quasi-comedic credo -- "that's entertainment!" -- bothered me less than one word uttered in utter seriousness by MSNBC's Brian Williams on Wednesday night as he told a SWAT team leader that his heroics were broadcast to a national "audience."

Audience. ... Show. ... Performing. ... Ah, hell, George: Entertainment.

With the exception of "breaking news" flags on the screen, the televised nightmare -- tense aerial shots of heavily armed cops swarming the school as frantic students fled the scene -- could have doubled as NBC's "Amazing Videos" or half of Fox's entire schedule, in all its Shocking-Incredible-When-Scary-Videos-Attack glory.

How do we receive and perceive the difference between "reality programming" and "breaking news"? Beyond the silly semantics -- the former is neatly packaged tragedy, the latter free-form tragedy -- don't they both vicariously satisfy the same primal passion for mayhem?

Either highly produced or live-as-it-happens, it's still human horror as spectator sport. TV has taken morbid voyeurism and common-denominated it so far and wide as "reality programming" that even the dignified designation of "news" can't erase the stench of sensationalism.

And breaking TV coverage -- less by design than by default -- trivializes tragedy. With facts in onrushing news dramas often scarce, unconfirmed and flat-out wrong, imparting information often gives way to empty exaggeration. Immediately telling a compelling story -- even if incomplete -- trumps dead air.

Bottom line: There was a massacre in Colorado. And Carlin was right.

Both are tragedies.

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