The news baffles me sometimes. I know they’ve got to fill 24 hours and like a billion web pages with something, but seriously what the hell are they thinking?
Take this story from The Telegraph.
“Giant iceberg heading for Australia – A giant iceberg double the size of Sydney Harbour is on a slow but steady collision course with Australia, scientists have said.”
I have literally no idea of how I’m supposed to react to that. Is Australia going to sink when it hits? Will it be like Titanic only with dudes with corky hats instead of the lovely Winslet Twins? From the same paper, “science” “proves” that dogs are “better” than cats. Meanwhile, the Mail finds to time tell us that Pixie Geldof showed her knickers… a cow was born with a cross on its head… the UK’s most innovative lingerie… feed garlic to cows…
It just goes on and on and on and on. Who has time for this shit?
I don’t really pine for the days when the only productive thing a man could do was turn soil into oatmeal or carve decorative items from coal, but I’m finding it increasingly hard to evade the conclusion that the national debt is proportional to the amount of bullshit and clamour out there.
I’ve said before that the newspapers need to get the focus back on news if they’re to retain any sort of credibility. What do they do? Whore their credence out to every two-bit shill and hustle from cosmetics companies, technologists, environmentalist parvenues, political wannabes, limelight-hoggers, knicker salesmen, media starlets, tarts, would-be musicians, has-been authors, financial wizards, military hawks, armchair strategists, medical alarmists and every huckster with a fucking book to sell about how we should be downgrading, upgrading, upselling, selling-out, getting fat, getting thin, looking for Bin Laden, forgetting about Bin Laden, snorting coke, making money, losing weight, gaining knowledge, refinding ourselves, reconnecting with God and how to cook the perfect pancake.
I need a cup of tea.