I hate the news.
A weird thing for a columnist to cop to in a newspaper, to be sure, but since going back to work full-time after a year and a half of daddy day care and freelance writing, I’ve come to hate the news. It’s become ungovernable.
Every time I peek into my Twitter feed — still my default vein — there are now hundreds (if not thousands) of new posts, many of which appear wildly out of (chronological) sequence.
I don’t know what’s coming or going. My news feed — to paraphrase the philosopher Thom Yorke — buzzes like a fridge, it’s like a detuned radio.
Worst of all, it washes over without leaving a mark. This, I now know, is what it’s like to follow the news as a civilian.
When I worked in government, we were the news. I couldn’t avoid it. When I was a columnist following the news every second wasn’t a luxury; it was mandatory if I wanted a gig. Now it’s hell.
Having popped myself somewhat out of the bubble, I’ve a new appreciation for people who shrug their shoulders at current events and write off all politicians and the people who cover them as irrelevant to their day.
But hating news is nuts, horrible and inimical to democracy.