I still use the antiquated dial up, so I am listening to my computer squeal R2D2ese at some remote computer. While I wait–and it could be a minute–I flip on the news. Hmm, it’s going to be 79 degrees today. Some idiot threw a 20 pound frozen turkey out of the window of a moving vehicle, and it smashed through the windshield of an oncoming car. It caves the face in of the driver, but she forgives him. So instead of the 25 years that silly prick deserves, he gets six months. Hundreds attended a bigfoot conference in Texas. A principal is trying to get himself killed in Uniondale, NY. Apparently, he is cancelling prom because it’s become too Bacchanalian. He’s a little late to the party, it would seem. All at once, I am overwhelmed by the irrelevance.
News has morphed. News used to be the information that people sought out to navigate the real contexts of their lives. News was information that may alter the way you would manage your day, or in some other way proved to be relevant. In short, news wasn’t news unless it had some relevance. What is passing as contemporary news is simply discordant bullshit. A series of decontextualized facts delivered in staccato fashion all over the globe. Our airwaves shotgunning bullshit from New York to Tibet.
Listen: Where I live we’re preparing to hold elections. On the ballot are selections for Mayor, City Councillor, School District, and two state referendums, inter alia. Now, the Mayor will be easy–apparently she is the only one running. For city councillor, however, there are ten choices. Guess what? What I know about these people wouldn’t fill a gnat’s ass. What’s more, I can’t find any information about any of them. Oh, I can tell you that deliberations have begun in a Texas trial where a former prison inmate is pissed because he–allegdly–was repeatedly ass raped and guards did nothing about it. But I have no idea who Mike Litzau is, or what he represents. I could tell you that a Burmese python burst open trying to eat an alligator. But if questioned about the probity of Mark L. Kaiser all I could offer would be a vacant stare. Perhaps you would like to know that, in Seattle, lap dances are outlawed in strip clubs and you have to put the tip money in something that resembles a ballot box. But who the hell is Aurita Apodaca?
I see a pattern. If it is relevant, make it unavailable or bury it. If it amounts to just some decontextualized, incoherent bullshit–shout it at everything with a pulse. Why don’t the talking heads just say, "And now in more bullshit."