Art as Intervention

I have laughed my ass off when I watched that episode in How I Met Your Mother about Intervention. Intervention. It's funny because it is ridiculous. But its not fun and games all the time. Sometimes, instead of doing something about the world we are in, we are happy commenting about. Like I am doing right now. I choose to comment about the lack of intervention rather than doing something about it. However, the fact that I am sitting a good thousand miles away from the location of the incident, washes my hands off some blood, at least immediate blood. When a cop, a man who has pledged to put the rest of the world ahead of himself is cut up in the middle of the road and pleading for help, two ministers are holed up in their cars and the cop handling their security detail explains that they had to protect the ministers and take all necessary precautions possible. Sounds ridiculous, and I would have laughed, trust me, if not for the sickening thought of the man lying there, dying there. They did not intervene. They did not do anything besides staying put, calling 108 (that's our ambulance code in TamilNadu; one of the few states that proudly claim the possession of an ambulance hotline), and then putting the cop on a convoy car, rushing him to a hospital... albeit, minutes late... Precious minutes, that could have saved his life.
They did not intervene. The ministers did not. And life comes a full circle when NDTV reporters, or any other TV channel's reporters, the name does not mean a thing, it's all the same, stood there, recording and transmitting information, manufacturing news about how the ministers could have intervened and refused to, instead of intervening themselves. Unlike my commentary on their Godot-ic inaction, theirs actually cost the man his life. Oh, of course, we have stunning footage of a cop crying for his life in a moment more dramatic than any nailbiting action sequence of a movie; but we lost a cop. Oh yes, the TV news channels have managed to show how heartless these politicos are; but we lost a cop. And most significantly, the charioteers of the news-driven nation have fed the right amount of anguish to a people who really don't need a reason to be angry against the khadi-clad mafia; by making a lesson out of a life they could have saved. J'accuse. The inaction on part of the newspeople is much more condemnable than that of the politicians. At least the latter do not have any qualms in acting like they are above the law. What the fuck was the cameraperson doing, shooting video footage, when (s)he could have done something better?
This is where I draw the line. If art is going to pretend that it has no other role but to merely record reality, then it serves no function and such an art should cease to exist. Enough is enough; as Samuel L Jackson says, I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane. I am tired of the media constantly pointing out issues about what somebody did not do, when they have behaved in no better a fashion. We are not shooting an episode of South Park here. It is a time for change. Change starts now and here. Intervention is the new mantra of art. If Art does not adapt, it shall perish, like so many other things in this continuum of the world.