A year ago today

I don't dabble in journalism because I find it difficult to follow current events.  This is due to my refusal to buy newspapers or to pay attention to what is going on, ever.  I also have a mild, psychosomatic case of dyslexia.  What news I hear is filtered through satirists, drunken-shouters, or a scant window of 140 characters.  Remarkably, you don't even need full words to get the gist.  "OMG" covers about 73% of phenomena.

According to this newspaper I'm holding, the Inauguration of America's first colored president is right around the corner. (But that's because this newspaper is a year old.)  What a boon for non-racists everywhere.  I can't imagine who else would care.  It would ruin a racist's day, and those that don't care, wouldn't care.  Personally I think the man has a nice-shaped head, but I don't know much else about him.

Speaking of Earth-shattering events, a 6.2 earthquake smashed in to Costa Rica a year ago today.  Like the inauguration, this was met with some disappointment.  Perhaps it would amuse some Costa Ricans to know that exactly a year later, a large volcano will explode on their island -- but I seriously doubt it.

The 11th incarnation of Doctor Who was also selected exactly one year ago.  In the erupting violence several BBC staff members were tussled vigorously outside of Portland Place.

You know, I think there's a third reason I avoid the news.  It blows.  It's not really information I want to know; it's information they are convinced I ought to know, and believe me there is a difference.  The latter is a stilted salver of randomly selected events attempting a neat and up-to-date mosaic of human existence; as though like copy, the news itself could align to tidy grids.  Worse than failing, it succeeds only as bad entertainment; a pulp serial with no beginning or end.  Before there was reality TV, the news was happily providing the service of exploiting the vain-glorious and feeding us risable half-truths.  Honestly, one episode of Fear Factor is sufficient to summarize the state of our planet.  And it's certainly less predictable.

At the very least let's stop calling it news: there is nothing "new" about it.  Reality-twisted-into-palatable-narratives is more like it.  The various flavours of news are meatless Items carved for specific demographics.  Why else report about the Olympics, the Golden Globes, an increase in gas prices, the banal process of democracy, or a four-alarm housefire at Jane and Finch.  All I want or need is access to the facts -- the truth.  I know that the world is boring, miserable and unfair.  I can accept that no progress is being made in our battles against disease, mortality and ourselves.  And it doesn't confuse me understand if a day hums by with little to regret.  I can accept the ongoing nature of tragedy without having to always raise a torch.  I can accept news that's not particularly entertaining, nor aligns to our deep prejudices about the human condition. I can take it doc, I really can.

But do let me know if a comet is headed straight for the Earth.

January 8, 2009: "Princess Beatrice's Unlocked BMW Stolen."  OMG!