From now on, I'll be singling out pieces of journalism that are disturbing, not in terms of their content but the way that content is delivered.

In fact, the content of the story is of no relevance at all. What's relevant is the way in which the story has been relayed or articulated, i.e. its underlying semantics.

The focus could be on a story in its entirety, a paragraph, a sentence, or even one simple word. It's the tone, the vocabulary, the structure of the text that matters.

Whichever element it is, what's important is that it offers, uniquely, a glimpse into a publication's unconscious.

('Unconscious' is an antiquated Freudian term, for sure, but it's more accessible than 'internal mechanic' or 'narrative').

The focus today is
on Mail Online.

The article was a lead story on Sunday about the Connecticut school shooting. The element that jumped out at me was the headline, specifically the words in bold:

'The worst I've seen': Autopsies that moved veteran medical examiner to tears as report reveals
between THREE and ELEVEN bullets.

Here it is on the Mail Online website:

I'm not sure Beth Stebner (a NYC-based Daily Mail freelance I'd imagine), wrote this headline, or a sub, or one of the more senior editors, but either way it gives you a taste of the 'unconscious' of the Mail.

I've got some questions for Beth and the Mail subs. I've taken the liberty to provide some answers, too, but it would be great to hear their thoughts.

Q. Why use the slang-term and idle plosive, 'had been pumped with' rather than, say, 'received'?

A. Because the Mail is less interested in the Connecticut shooting than the opportunity the event offers to feed the insatiable, savage voyeurism of its readers. For the Mail, the frisson of pre-packed horror delivered to its baying readers, in their PVC conservatories, is more important than the atrocity itself. These kids, readers, they were pumped — that's 'pumped' — full of lead! Imagine the bullets going in, thup, thup. Just sit back and imagine it. Thup.

Q. Why upper-case 'THREE' and 'ELEVEN'?

A. Again, the Mail is less interested in the death of the children than the spectacle, the visual jouissance, that their death, by multiple bullet wounds, affords its readers. Imagine a child with 11 bullet wounds! We'll take you there, and deliver you back to your sofa, safely, afterwards. Distressed? Pour yourself a sherry.

Q. Why use the adjective 'veteran' rather than 'experienced' or 'long-serving'?

A. Veteran adds a Rambo-type gloss to the story. Hey, there's another crazy hillbilly gone on the rampage in the States. Yee ha!

Q. Why say 'each tiny body' rather than simply 'each body'?

A. The Mail is less interested in the children as family-members and loved-ones than the cheap, emotional stirring-up afforded by referencing their 'tiny' bodies. The adult bodies, of course, are meaningless. They are of little news value. Spike 'em.

In this headline, the Mail has taken an horrific event and turned it into a spectacle, a means to entertain. But then would we expect anything else?

For the Mail, the facts of the story are less relevant than the fantasy. Boom, thup, eat lead!