Description
Most news outlets drive me mad. I don’t care about some golfer’s sex life or Tony Abbott’s Speedos. I don’t need to be told some event is “shocking”. I’ll experience my own genuine emotional reaction once I learn the facts. Or not. I don’t want news explained in childish terms like Snowmageddon, even if President Barack Obama invented the word. I don’t give a toss about sport. And I certainly don’t want to live in the paranoid land of the Hallucinating Goldfish, a land of imaginary terrorists and crime waves and fear. As I see and read and hear more news through the course of the day, and as the second or third glass of wine is drunk, my Twitter stream fills with complaints and anger and snark. By the end of the day I’m stabby. I’d like to share that stabbiness.
