NEWS PRESS, MR. BILL AND THE BILL COSBY EFFECT

The Mustache Man By Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo

CHAPTER FOUR

If what’s alleged about Bill Cosby is less sweet than a pudding pop, watchdog journalists, like Mark Whitaker, won’t investigate thoroughly; so too when it comes to Mr. Bill in the news press. In 1914, Walter Williams wrote “The Journalist’s Creed”. Essentially, it reads:

I believe in the profession of journalism.

I believe that the public journal is a public trust, that all connected with it are, to the full measure of responsibility, trustees for the public, that all acceptance of lesser service than the public service is a betrayal of trust.

I believe that clear thinking, clear statement, accuracy and fairness are fundamental to good journalism.

I believe that a journalist should write only what he holds in his heart to be true.

I believe that suppression of the news, for any consideration other than the welfare of society, is indefensible.

I believe that no one should write as a journalist what he would not say as a gentleman, that bribery by one’s own pocket book is as much to be avoided as bribery by the pocketbook of another, that individual responsibility may not be escaped by pleading another’s instructions or another’s dividends.

I believe that advertising, news and editorial columns should alike serve the best interests of readers; that a single standard of helpful truth and cleanness should prevail for all; that supreme test of good journalism is the measure of its public service.

I believe that the journalism which succeeds the best and best deserves success fears God and honors man; is stoutly independent; unmoved by pride of opinion or greed of power; constructive, tolerant but never careless, self-controlled, patient, always respectful of it’s readers but always unafraid, is quickly indignant at injustice; is unswayed by the appeal of the privilege or the clamor of the mob; seeks to give every man a chance, and as far as law, an honest wage and recognition of human brotherhood can make it so, an equal chance is profoundly patriotic while sincerely promoting international good will and cementing world-comradeship, is a journalism of humanity, of and for today’s world.

 Well, that was then and this is now. In the internet age of NBC News Director, Brian Williams, being everywhere but in reality, journalist’s hide behind clips of kittens, puppies and laughing babies trending online, while wiping their asses with the Journalist’s Creed, which is why, I fused Hunter S. Thompson’s gonzo journalism with Salvador Dali’s style of impregnating subliminal messages into psychedelically-poetic-cryptic works of art, to create modern art gonzo journalism for The Lied To Generation through the Modern Art Music Movement (MAMM). 

The twenty-four hour news cycle is brimming with cross-legged beauties wearing little more than big smiles while flashing their stately pair of gams for the camera’s voyeuristic gaze as teleprompters feed them the horrific news of the day, before thanking rainbow colored pundits tripping over themselves to avoid saying, “You’re welcome”, in response to the inviting news anchors gratitude for joining the staged broadcast. Instead, we as audience witness talking heads state, with great inflection intimating courteous one-upmanship, “No! Thank you, for having me, on your program.”

One can only imagine the number of viewers who masturbate while watching the news, in a world where titillation has replaced fact and, on that note, with a long, hard stroke of my thick, wet brush I finished painting “Boston Strong” in front of an open-mouthed audience in Fort Myers, Florida, that was begging for more. Alas, there was no encore from the All-Star Band, at the Boston Red Sox Spring Training Home-Opener. The eager crowd got what they deserved and from the satisfied look on their faces, they loved every moment of the MAMM Jam experience.

“What the hell was that?” Mr. Bill asked, when I got off stage.

“Modern art gonzo journalism.” I answered, nonplussed. “I paint the news.”

“Thank God it wasn’t one of your DNA Series.” Mr. Bill shook his head in disgust and walked away muttering. “Sperm painting.”

“Hey Bill, where am I staying tonight? I don’t have a place to rest and last night cost me three hundred bucks out of pocket. What’s up?” I asked the back of Mr. Bill’s head.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Mr. Bill answered, without turning around. “I’m busy.”

At that moment, I remembered a rumor about a friend of mine who plays with The Cars, J Geils Band and The Bellevue Cadillac. Allegedly, Mr. Bill had asked the beloved musician to join the All Star Band for a gig on Wall Street to raise money for wounded veterans but when it came time to reimburse the artist for travel expenses and accommodations, as promised, Mr. Bill failed to honor his word and left the well-respected performer in the red.

It’s a small world and news travels fast about a person’s reputation but all I knew about Mr. Bill at that point was, that like Bill Cosby, both men were highly regarded, well-liked and doted on by those who did not wish to disturb the Natural Order of Things in the entertainment world, so bad press was hard to come by for either man and uttering anything negative about Mr. Bill or Bill Cosby, was simply taboo in the entertainment industry.

I chose to reserve judgment as I stared at Mr. Bill ignoring my concerns in favor of being fawned by fans, backstage, in front of his girlfriend, Melissa. The truth is hard to swallow, so I buried my instinct and threw myself into the only thing that made sense to me at that point; the steady process of cleaning brushes, packing paint cans and breaking down my easel after an exhausting MAMM Jam performance.