November 24, 2024

Circle Six Magazine

The Cult(ure) of Music

Hijacked by Balloon Boy

3 min read
In case you missed it, there were a lot of people glued to their televisions (or news devices) a few days ago under the assumption that there was actually a boy that was stranded in an escaped balloon that was accidentally let off its tether and soaring across the sky. One boy + 1 hot air balloon = heart wrenching...hoax. I know, I know there were actually some of you that were hoping that it wasn't a hoax. I mean, the little boy threw up on national television for goodness sake. How could that sort of anxiety be faked? I had my suspicions. But the boy named Falcon said, "We did it for ‘the show.'"

When I was a kid there was this movie called Le Ballon Rouge all about how this boy adores his little red balloon. It’s this story that forms the basis for current events this week.  In case you missed it, there were a lot of people glued to their televisions (or news devices) a few days ago under the assumption that there was actually a boy that was stranded in an escaped balloon that was accidentally let off its tether and soaring across the sky.  One boy + 1 hot air balloon = heart wrenching…hoax.  I know, I know there were actually some of you that were hoping that it wasn’t a hoax.  I mean, the little boy threw up on national television for goodness sake.  How could that sort of anxiety be faked?  I had my suspicions.  But the boy named Falcon said, “We did it for ‘the show.'”  For better or worse, he let it slip out.  And tell me that the rest of America didn’t let out a collective groan at the very moment that this happened.

Strangely, I’m not angry.  Because believe it or not, you are now privy to the latest trend in fame seeking.  Me TV.  It’s bigger than YouTube and it proves one thing:  All you need is a clever story and YOU too can grab your piece of that 15 minutes of fame.  In a lot of ways, it’s a story primed and ready for the Simpsons to steal and air next season if they wanted.  Hell, the antics are definitely Bart Simpson worthy.  But wait – this isn’t a cartoon and it sort of appears as though the mastermind isn’t the perpetually youthful Bart, but the parents of young Falcon.  What?  Wasn’t it also interesting that the boy’s father – as this story progressed – turned out to be a reality whore for lack of a better term?  I take that back there is no better term for him.  He is a media whore.  And as mean spirited as that might sound…

Did anyone catch this yahoo who attempted to explain the minor gaffe of his son?  He stammered, he hemmed, he hawed, and even insinuated that the journalist who was asking him questions might be leading the public to believe that his boy was capable of, gasp, lying to the public.  Obviously the answer, “We did it for the show” proves that maybe he wasn’t.  Good for him.  And shame on the Dad for using his kids as a way to make us all believe that his child could actually have been in peril (though as it turns out that no one was in peril except for maybe the balloon).  So of course he lied!  It just took a little while longer and a second look to confirm what already looked mighty suspicious.  One ex-reality show also ran + Robert Thomas (a researcher) = two ass halves that make one big as…anyway.

Now this isn’t what bothers me.  Because after the soft landing of the balloon that was found in a field some 50 miles away and a less than Danny Deckchair ending to the story, and after a crazy plot revealed what the hell really happened, there was another truth.  A truth that people were missing and the truth is also about this:  the following morning, any domain name that could be associated to a flying boy and a balloon had already been purchased.  Did anyone notice that?  Or were we too busy to realize that America, God bless it’s black soul, was poised and ready to take advantage of the this unfortunate situation.  Now my question is this – who is the real victim here?  And who is the real perpetrator?  They might have did it for the show, but we watched every second now didn’t we?

by Paul Stamat

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