terrorism: the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims
top headline on msn.com: what if my bank fails?
wow. have we actually made it to this point? either bank collapse is an pressing, realistic threat (holy shit!), or someone's trying to scare me. or both. this is why i don't spend much time reading the news. and why i save money the old-fashioned way. i'm amazed at the overwhelming atmosphere of fear and panic in the media; always in general, but now in particular. and it's probably going to get worse.
i've never really liked TV, and haven't actively watched it in quite a long time. in the past two years or so, however, a combination of choice, circumstance, and sheer laziness has led me further astray from mass media as a whole. i'm not claiming this as a virtue--in fact, as a child of the information age, this drifting is almost a sin--merely a matter of fact. i rarely read magazines or newspapers. i don't listen to the radio, not even NPR. i've stopped reading blogs, barely check my e-mail, and haven't downloaded a song--legally or illegally--in over a year. i've stopped checking myspace, friendster, and perezhilton.com. (but i used to.) and, though i didn't realize it until now, i don't shop at stores that carry tabloids, i don't go to bars that have TVs, i rarely drive so i don't see billboards, and i don't use mass transit where i might see all three. in addition, as my surely frustrated friends can attest, i don't write letters and barely answer my cell phone. sorry, friends.
so, what's the word from my personal information desert? it's quiet out here! and wow, is it nice!
outside, it's a beautiful day. the sun is melting away morning fog, casting dappled shadows through a plum tree heavy with ripe fruit. a bird perched on the clothesline preens in the sunshine. fat bees buzz around the flowers of herbs long left to seed. i hear water moving in my fishtank, and wind blowing through the trees outside. a bird is squwaking loudly from a nearby nest. every few minutes, the high clear ping of a baseball striking an aluminum bat rings out in the distance, sometimes followed by echoing cheers. i am serious. i am actually observing these things, right now, this very moment.
the longer i'm away from mass media, the more shocking its unpleasantness becomes. it's like going to new york after spending months in a redwood forest and realizing that you never noticed how filthy the air was when you lived there.
when the tv (radio/youtube/podcast/etc.) is always on, and a major portion of our focus is on a newsfeed/blog/stock ticker/print ad/headline, the world becomes a murky soup of chaos and noise. it's like a thousand urgent voices speaking simultaneously, some in warning, some in persuasion, some in outright panic. some about the fucking brangelina twins. it's difficult to tell who's saying what, and why. it's frustrating to even try. we have no choice but to become numb, or crazy. or to leave.
because the good news is you don't have to read the news. surprisingly, the world doesn't collapse when you haven't heard what obama just said or how britney's doing in rehab. the really important things have a way of filtering down to the people who need to hear them. i will know when wildfires are burning all around me (because i can see the smoke). i will know when it's been a bad year for real estate, or a good year for local farmers. i will know when my grandfather dies. and, when i linger at the edges of the herd, i will know when to turn around before the whole damn thing goes charging off a cliff. at least i hope i will. my experience has been that it's easier to notice what's important when you're not trying to take it all in, or tune it all out for the sake of your sanity. you don't have to live in murky information soup. you can choose what to consume, plucking tender morsels of knowledge from books and wikipedia like ripe fruit from a tree. and in the meantime, you can enjoy the peaceful silence of an awareness unperturbed by the news corporation.
wow. have we actually made it to this point? either bank collapse is an pressing, realistic threat (holy shit!), or someone's trying to scare me. or both. this is why i don't spend much time reading the news. and why i save money the old-fashioned way. i'm amazed at the overwhelming atmosphere of fear and panic in the media; always in general, but now in particular. and it's probably going to get worse.
i've never really liked TV, and haven't actively watched it in quite a long time. in the past two years or so, however, a combination of choice, circumstance, and sheer laziness has led me further astray from mass media as a whole. i'm not claiming this as a virtue--in fact, as a child of the information age, this drifting is almost a sin--merely a matter of fact. i rarely read magazines or newspapers. i don't listen to the radio, not even NPR. i've stopped reading blogs, barely check my e-mail, and haven't downloaded a song--legally or illegally--in over a year. i've stopped checking myspace, friendster, and perezhilton.com. (but i used to.) and, though i didn't realize it until now, i don't shop at stores that carry tabloids, i don't go to bars that have TVs, i rarely drive so i don't see billboards, and i don't use mass transit where i might see all three. in addition, as my surely frustrated friends can attest, i don't write letters and barely answer my cell phone. sorry, friends.
so, what's the word from my personal information desert? it's quiet out here! and wow, is it nice!
outside, it's a beautiful day. the sun is melting away morning fog, casting dappled shadows through a plum tree heavy with ripe fruit. a bird perched on the clothesline preens in the sunshine. fat bees buzz around the flowers of herbs long left to seed. i hear water moving in my fishtank, and wind blowing through the trees outside. a bird is squwaking loudly from a nearby nest. every few minutes, the high clear ping of a baseball striking an aluminum bat rings out in the distance, sometimes followed by echoing cheers. i am serious. i am actually observing these things, right now, this very moment.
the longer i'm away from mass media, the more shocking its unpleasantness becomes. it's like going to new york after spending months in a redwood forest and realizing that you never noticed how filthy the air was when you lived there.
when the tv (radio/youtube/podcast/etc.) is always on, and a major portion of our focus is on a newsfeed/blog/stock ticker/print ad/headline, the world becomes a murky soup of chaos and noise. it's like a thousand urgent voices speaking simultaneously, some in warning, some in persuasion, some in outright panic. some about the fucking brangelina twins. it's difficult to tell who's saying what, and why. it's frustrating to even try. we have no choice but to become numb, or crazy. or to leave.
because the good news is you don't have to read the news. surprisingly, the world doesn't collapse when you haven't heard what obama just said or how britney's doing in rehab. the really important things have a way of filtering down to the people who need to hear them. i will know when wildfires are burning all around me (because i can see the smoke). i will know when it's been a bad year for real estate, or a good year for local farmers. i will know when my grandfather dies. and, when i linger at the edges of the herd, i will know when to turn around before the whole damn thing goes charging off a cliff. at least i hope i will. my experience has been that it's easier to notice what's important when you're not trying to take it all in, or tune it all out for the sake of your sanity. you don't have to live in murky information soup. you can choose what to consume, plucking tender morsels of knowledge from books and wikipedia like ripe fruit from a tree. and in the meantime, you can enjoy the peaceful silence of an awareness unperturbed by the news corporation.