“How are you not talking about this all the time, how are you merrily, some say stupidly, going about your business as if the world did not feel like a coin in an arcade 2p machine, being pushed slowly but definitely off the edge and tasting of blood?” My answer: I’ve turned off breaking news alerts.
The alerts that act as sharp pinches, reminding us we can never relax, the alerts keeping us alert, keeping us vibrating on this frequency of oh no oh no.
I still believe we have a responsibility to avoid complete ignorance, to engage and resist and all that stuff, to “stay informed” and remain awake to injustice, stupidity, the slow slide of democracy, and I certainly don’t think everybody needs to turn off the news.
For many of us though, remaining awake to injustice has come to mean staying awake all night as our phones feed us dread like foie-gras geese.
I see it all the time – at desks and dinner tables, the low buzz of breaking news will cause a mass flinch, a grim “Oh God what now” as hands reach to reveal what could be reports of cannon-fire over Manchester or the death of a beloved TV dog.
