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--> --> Aug. 9: The art of survival isn't what it used to be By David Morrill It's easy enough to blame television for repackaging the concept of survival. Dressed up in gaudy drag, survival has become the subject of fun and games, a staple of cable channels and, of late, the networks. Ratings for the CBS's show "Survivor" have blown off the charts. The repackaging is similar to that given reality, as in "reality TV" and pugilistic talk shows, gunshot victims in the ER and high-speed chases viewed from helicopters flying above the Santa Monica Freeway. The stuff of life becomes the stuff of the voyeur. What is at work here involves much more than clever marketing by the entertainment business, which has simply capitalized on an opportunity. It's a reflection of a process that spans several decades and that has fundamentally altered the American character. It's a process that took root as the harshest memories of World War II began to fade, as families left the hard-scrabble insecurity of the farm, as the standard of living began its inexorable rise, as life, at least in physical terms, became easier, gentler and softer. We are ages removed from the day when the survival instinct was an essential tool for simply getting by, when we had to forage for our supper. Or, when we had to run from wild beasts that would have us for supper. We speak of survival in terms of getting the kids back and forth from piano lessons and gymnastics practice, navigating rush hour traffic or riding a roller coaster at the theme park. Students arriving on college campuses in the next few weeks will be given survival guides that will offer advice not about avoiding dangerous parts of town, but critiques of the local club scene, where to get the best pizza and the cheapest beer. Our confusion of definition comes at a time when there is more real survival going on in the world than ever before. The world, in fact, veritably groans under its weight. It can be found on deserts of the Sudan, in the villages of Macedonia, the ghettos of Sao Paolo and along the barricades that separate California and Mexico. If only we'd pay attention, we would see starving children with distended bellies clawing in the dirt for grubs and roots. We would see mothers crying for their sons and husbands who will never come home but who, somehow, press on. We would see Mexicans running from border guards so they can harvest American crops. But this sort of survival makes us queasy. It is hardly stuff fit for prime time. It cannot be storyboarded and scheduled. It is messy. There are flies. Often, there is blood, vomit and diarrhea. There are conditions that cannot be fixed with good old American know-how. On occasion, the television network news broadcasts give us a small dose of real survival, perhaps a three-minute segment on famine in sub-Sahara Africa. The news quickly moves on, though, to more pressing matters, say Alan Greenspan's remarks on third-quarter profits. With the obliging assistance of the media, we insist that our survival is cast in terms of muscle boys in cutoffs and fetching babes in halter-tops. We require the possibilities of romance and intrigue. We hardly question the logic of posting groups of middle-America contest winners on a Pacific Island or in the Australian desert, where they roast rats over the fire, chase down and butcher wild pigs and gossip about each other while they pose for the camera, measure their language for sound bite effect and step over production cable. If there is an historic corollary for our age it can probably be found in Imperial Rome. If there is a corollary for television, it is the Roman Colloseum. Historians tell us that the floor of the great arena was sometimes planted with African jungle flora while the jungle fauna tore prisoners apart limb from limb. Commenting on the scenery, Trajan was quoted to the effect that it was the next best thing to being there. If we are indeed the latter-day Romans observing our own spectacle in the shade, we have to admit that the Romans put on a grander show. Despite the outlandish stage props, fights to the death hold a certain appeal. And surely, Americans have no ritual that compares to the Emperor's thumbs up or down. Even war, where survival and reality were once clearly understood, has seen definitions transformed. Like children saving the empire in computer games, our fighter pilots, along with the television audience at home, watch as smart bombs blow up their targets on the ground below. Saddam Hussein, or even the foreign press, may claim that innocents are killed and maimed, but, hey, we didn't see it on our monitors. Our pilots return not only as victors but also, in today's idiom, as survivors, and head to the club for a couple of beers and the nearest TV. David Morrill is a Florida journalist and Northern California native. Email your... Technical questions & comments to: WebMaster Daily Tidings editorial comments & questions to: Editor Visit our other Oregon Newspapers... | Albany Democrat-Herald | Ashland Daily Tidings | Corvallis Gazette-Times | | Lebanon Express | Newport News-Times | Springfield News | Cottage Grove Sentinel | Ashland Daily Tidings 1661 Siskiyou Blvd. Ashland, OR 97520 Telephone 541-482-3456 © Copyright 2001 Lee Northwest Publishing