On a day of rage-inducing, unacceptable, mind-boggling, insane, fear-filled, ominous, dark, painful, shameful and crazy headlines – this was my view. Got me thinking that perhaps making personal headlines are more important than reading whatever activist journalists or sensation slut hacks dish up for me. To be informed is one thing, to take an interest is one thing. But to have your reality infected and your nose rubbed into it is another.
There are those who go out to protest (and indeed there are two tiers as to who is viewed as what when it comes to this, and it is, as a matter of fact, mind-boggling). But there are also two groups of people deciding to go to a march because their issues are important to them.
The papers, podcasts, commute radio and background TV has decided that what is important to them must also be important to me… that their issues are my issues… that their unhinged takes and extremist politics must be of interest to me, must be entertained by my headspace.
Why are the rabble rousing minority – and they are that, by far – more important than all the perfectly decent people who had a perfectly splendid day? They are not. They never will be. They draw attention to themselves because they have to, because no one serious takes them seriously.
More important, I submit, is to make personal headlines. Let each day manufacture personal news I can enjoy, and be proud of, and desire more of.
To be consequential in ones own life is far more satisfying, and beautiful, than to become invested and concerned about the chimp-like posturing of inconsequential people and their bullshit causes.
Take this road… take the magnificent colours… take the friendly, tolerant and respectful people who smile and greet you on your route… take the brilliant colours and the sounds of the birds…. the gentle wind… and move it to your front page.