Somewhat Less than the Headlines

abc-logoI’m bored to tears by the news. There I said it. I don’t watch it and I don’t read it. No 6pm pre-dinner sit-down with Roscoe or Hendo. And certainly no late night headlines with the racier chippies. Nothing.   No newspapers. And none of that online business – be it on a website or a ‘feed’ (frankly that conjures up an image of Kirstie Alley gorging herself on a mound of discarded tabloids covered in chip fat and salt. The tabloid not Kirstie Alley. Although…).

In particular, it’s world news that I just can’t come at. Even if, on a lazy Sunday sitting in the sun in my favourite cafe, I do pull out the broadsheets for a wee relaxing read (presuming I’ve absent-mindedly neglected to throw a little fiction into my bag before I left the house), I am never, ever reading the world news section. Never. Even those very important and emotionally charged stories about Afghani women being mistreated, or nursing homes where the elderly are being systemically starved. Interesting, pass me Spectrum would you?

I know, you hate me now. God, I hate me now. I’m not ignorant. I’m educated. I’ve travelled. I speak languages. I do know there’s a big wide world out there. When it comes to news though, indifference is my chum, my lifelong pal, and I’ve tattooed her name on my left ankle. It would be grand to be able to claim that I’m taking a moral stance. Something along the lines of “It’s all rubbish anyway” or “You can’t believe anything they say” or even that post-Mike Moore clanger “It’s creating a culture of fear”. I could lie and pretend I’m protecting my (non-existent) children from seeing how bad the world is just yet. Or I could just play the nutter card… sorry, “conspiracy theorist” and claim it’s all fake. But no, it would be about as accurate as saying you never inhaled. The absolute truth is, I just couldn’t give a shit.

Show me a beautiful movie or a documentary about that same mistreated woman, nursing her broken body and a dead child and I will be a heaving sobbing mess. The moment I leave that cinema, I‘ll be on my nerd-phone quicker than Kirstie can say “Take it away, I’m done” so that I can google that sucker like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll have all information, I’ll have BPAY’ed an automatic monthly pre-tax donation and I’ll be telling everyone I know ad nauseum that they really need to be aware of what’s going on. Clearly then I do have a heart, I’m not a complete monster (so put down your pen and bin that letter to the editor expressing your outrage).

I blame the newsmongers for my callousness. No wait, I blame the “feed the starving child” charity-mongers. Actually I blame mongers of all kinds (fish, war, take your pick). The images and those words are so far removed from me, so far removed from anything I’ve ever known that I cannot connect with them. Give it to me with a nice soundtrack, some snappy narrative and a cleverly crafted back-story and I’m there in a heartbeat. Just don’t ask me to listen if you give it to me in sound-bites delivered by a ditz with a great rack and a wrinkle-free visage.

Falling Over is Always Funny

hahaSome things are so funny they make snot come out your nose.  Actually, that’s not accurate.  Somethings are so funny TO ME that they make snot come out of MY nose.  Yet other people are either indifferent or, more commonly, mortally offended.  I do understand, really I do.

I get that some people feel sympathy when, say, a person who is carrying a heavy box in the middle of an overcrowded (overcrowded in the way it only gets 4 days before xmas) JB HiFi store, happens to knock over an entire display case of DVDs, then stumble and fall face first into the ensuing mess.  I do not.  Feel sympathy that is.  For me, it’s a snot fest.

Frankly, I’m just glad it’s not me making a complete blithering idiot of myself – because, god knows, it so easily could be me.  Those who rush to help are those picture perfect types with nary a hair out of place… they would never be so graceless.  I however would.. very easily.  And so, I must laugh.

Recently, our very beloved family dog went completely blind.  It’s terrible, horrible.  I cried… well, to be entirely tasteless, I cried my eyes out… other, less easily amused souls, just cried dreadfully.   But I digress, let me tell you how we realised that he’d gone blind.

Mum & Dad took him for a walk in the park and noticed that he was very tentative – usually he’s like a glo-stick-waving-pill-poppinig-20-year-old – a little manic but very entertaining to watch.  Then he bumped into a couple of trees and they started to get a bit concerned. So mum called him; he turned and ran straight towards her voice.  As opposed to say, following the path.  Unfortunately there was a little creek in between them – he missed the bridge and ran straight off the edge into the creek.

I will reiterate – it’s nothing to laugh about… it’s a devestating thing to happen to a young dog… but even as I’m writing it, I get the giggles.  My mother would be furious… literally psychotically furious with me.   I just can’t help myself, I keep picturing him running straight off the edge  – coyote style (of Roadrunner fame) – suspended in mid-air…until that moment when he looks down and realises he’s screwed up. Meep meep!!!!

I suppose I owe a lot to Schadenfreude, me old mate.  He keeps me in stitches.