Once upon a time, a photog’s only concern was keeping the live truck between the ditches. Now these TV stevedores have to worry about spreading global viruses. Take the latest case of Charles Ramsey – that whimsical witness who’s helped a nation heal snicker and snort at a sadistic rape and kidnapping. Sure, he kicked that cursing anchor kid out of the national consciousness. And for that he should rightfully be heralded a hero. But what about those underpaid souls pointing glass at this latest sensation? Will they be able to move past the part they played in this predictable passion play? Can they sleep at night knowing a passel of catchphrases can be directly linked to the twitch of their collective thumbs? Many can not and as their focus goes, so too does their sanity…

It’s why we here at The Lenslinger Institute are proud to announce the opening of Camera Manor, a full service rehabilitation facility for those living with the fact they unleashed a lunatic across the land. Already, scores of wards are filling fast with photogs caught in the grip of P.H.S.D. (Post Hyperbole Stress Disorder). Spotlighting ass-hats may launch a million internet memes, but the scars left on the news shooter psyche don’t fade as fast as Balloon Boy, Sweet Brown, Grumpy Cat…

Just ask Hobbs in Room 13. Once at a train wreck, he jammed a camera in a hobo’s face. How was he supposed to know hobos yodeled? Well, they do, and before Hobbs could even find his tripod, the yodeling hobo went viral. Old dude eventually got a reality show, even banged a Kardashian. Meanwhile, Hobbs is blinded by remorse. Says he poisoned the planet, added to the inanity and brokered a hobo’s third case of the clap. Hobbs took it hard. Eventually we found him in the photog’s lounge, sewing his eyelids shut with tiny strips of gaffer’s tape. Now he sits in the dark in Room 13, making shadow puppets only he can see. 

But YOU can help the residual victims of telecommunications abuse. Just send a blank check, valid Lotto ticket or complimentary keg to The Lenslinger Institute  and we’ll see that the lost souls at Camera Manor hear just how much we enjoyed your generosity. Meanwhile, feel free to snicker at the very next hysterical neighbor who rockets to the top of your Twitter feed. But remember…

A guy with two credits of film school under his belt and three bucks in his billfold is a terrible thing to waste.