Riding the Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island is more exciting than flying solo across the Atlantic Ocean—at least that's what Charles Lindbergh, the first man ever to make such a solo flight nonstop, reportedly said. The coaster's wooden supports creak; the cars slowly climb a steep incline; then they pass the crest and hurtle down the 85-foot first drop, the speed increasing and the passengers screaming. It sure produces a feeling—terror, exhilaration, or something in between. And for more than seven decades, the Cyclone has been Coney Island's top attraction, drawing untold thousands of riders.
Horror and suspense movies bring in the crowds, too. Referring to the "sometimes horrifying dangers" that threaten people, horror-film director Wes Craven explains that the appeal of the narrative formthat movies provide is that it "puts those fears into a manageable series of events." The New York Times, October 30, 1999, p. A17 . In other words, at the movies, people can experience intense feelings but know they are actually safe.
Roller coasters, bungee jumping, extreme sports, movies—they all attract people who are looking for something they would call "real feeling." Such things can have a particular appeal to youth. For many in this group, feeling is something that is highly "mediated." It comes from the media in all sorts of prefabricated forms, and they're invited to think that what the media present is significant feeling. Yet they can rightly become suspicious of this. They're looking to feel something genuinely meaningful, something deeper than superficial excitement, something that has an impact—something that isn't canned or just schmaltz.
