Several years ago, I stumbled across a story that is probably apocryphal, but ought to be true. Back in the 70’s or 80’s, some enterprising photographer for a British tabloid managed to take some pictures of Prince Charles… um… “displaying the Crown Jewels.” The Royal Family, naturally, sued to keep them from being printed. And the judge decided the matter in a brilliant turn of phrase: “‘In the public interest’ is not necessarily synonymous with ‘interesting to the public.'”
In that vein, over the years I have found numerous stories that not only do I have a deep and utter disinterest in following, I find myself vaguely disgusted with the fascination others have.
One of these has to be the JonBenet Ramsey case. I simply don’t see the compelling national interest in her killing, and reach for the remote whenever it comes on the air.
Another one is the Natalee Holloway disappearance.
I also stayed away from the whole Terri Schiavo mess — I found the whole situation revolting, and the only benefit I saw from all its coverage was the (much needed) interest in “living wills.”
Chandra Levy? Far, far too much speculation and gossip.
Scott and Lacey Peterson? Toss him down a hole and forget about him. (If Jeffrey Dahmer was still alive, I’d say toss him down the same hole.)
Paris Hilton? Just go away, please.
I’ve often heard the theory that stories involving “pretty white women” get far more attention than they deserve, but looking over my list above, I think that there very well might be something worthwhile to it.
If others want to discuss them, that’s fine. That’s their right. But I just want to issue a pre-emptive “include me out” on them — and wish others would do the same, too.