I'm sick of hearing about the Sago miners.
It's actually quite repulsive: The faux mourning of a nation over the loss of miners in a part of the country in which most of the viewing audience wouldn't want to have to spend thirty seconds.
I'm sick of the carrion-crow media, spoon feeding disaster to a hungry and stupefied audience too removed from reality to do anything other than hook themselves nightly to the TV. Insert the tube here and we'll just pump distress directly into your veins. Don't worry though, it's only TV tragedy. No one really gets hurt, and if they do, it's in a good cause.
Reporters, who probably still self-delude into believing they are journalists, loiter outside the homes of the bereaved like molesters outside a school yard. This is news? I don't know who's to be pitied more, the slime that produce this or the oafs that consume it.
In this distressingly slack-tide of national disasters, the TV and print news can at least tease out a few more night's paintertainment by reading the last words of a dying man to his family. Oh, if only they'd managed to catch the miners actually expiring on video. Wouldn't that have been deliciously painful? I'm looking forward to the TV movie so I can really get inside the suffering a little more deeply.
People make jokes about televising executions, and how popular they would be. Why bother televising the deaths of criminals? We have 24-hour news channels only too happy to suck the blood from innocent's death, and the agony of those left behind.
News? A pox on it.
Columns by Lictor