The morning cable news has been treating the 3 missing US soldiers in Iraq in ways usually reserved for missing toddlers — lavish, emotional, “intense, massive, exhausting,” repeated clips of interviews filled with hope — the commanding officers, the ravaged relatives (with pictures — in uniform and in chubby childhood cowboy outfits), the “Stay tuned! Updates Next!

Excuse me, what is going on here? Over three thousand three hundred and thirty soldiers have gone missing — missing from our lives, missing from their planned futures. Over one hundred thousand Iraqis are gone. Gone, gone, gone. Why is it that these 3 get the “treatment?”

Since they are not known to be dead there is some hope they will be found. I understand that. But there is something else at work here, something prurient, some rotted expression of human caring — not visible for four years– that covers up a palpitating desire to be present at the discovery — alive would be fine, but dead, and tortured, would be just as good, better maybe. Much much higher adrenaline spike, ratings spike, ad sales support. Color me cynical but that’s what I am getting from this.

I hope the men are found, safe and unharmed but I have to wonder: what aren’t all these searching soldiers doing that they were doing last week? How many doors are being busted through in angry suspicion? What sign of weakness is the inability to find them sending out?

I hope they are found but this saturation attempt to show the American people that “we never leave our comrades behind,” “we are a noble and virtuous army,” has a loud hollow booming sound to it. I don’t need minute by minute speculation, low angle shots of dusty boots, guns at the ready, squint eyed, firm jawed proof that their comrades care. I don’t need the near sexual excitement in the timbre of the news readers’ voices.

How I miss the flat, smoke filled (Camels) voice of John Cameron Swazey, the suppressed emotion of Edward R. Murrow (Camels) …

That’s all for now. Good night, and good luck…