If you go by the outrage currently enveloping the internet, it would seem my lack of shock over the Casey Anthony trial puts me in the minority. Perhaps it's because I didn't have much of an emotional investment in the outcome -- that's to say I didn't watch the long, drawn out spectacle on television, nor did I follow it particularly closely in the news. In fact, it was only the last couple of days that I caught up with all evidence and conjecture presented over the past weeks. The smoking gun, forensically speaking, just wasn't there. I didn't see how they could possibly convict the woman.
So, my opinion came from what I learned from reading a few articles -- no videos of testimony to tug at my heart strings.
I won't even tell you whether or not I believe she was guilty. It's not relevant. The judicial system has cleared of the murder, manslaughter, and child abuse charges. Next big story, please.
Yeah, you're thinking I'm a cold fish -- dead inside. Maybe. Or perhaps I'm just so sick of all the media manipulation of our emotions that I refuse to let anything that thoroughly monopolizes the news have crack at stirring up my innards.
Kind of like when I used to jokingly proclaim that I refuse to laugh at commercials because that's exactly what they want me to do. Geico ads are the hardest. It helps to jab myself in the thigh repeatedly with a cocktail fork.
I'm sorry that a 2-year-old was brutally murdered, of course. If the mother is guilty, may she be the harsh recipient of a swift dose of Karma. But I'm sick of phony outrage from journalistic hacks like Nancy Grace and everyone else who enjoys that sort of hyper emotional style of reporting.