Daily Paper - Sept 22 2026

 

Daily Paper

Sept 22 2026

Everyday, like clockwork

I settle into my accustomed chair

in the warm light of my cozy den,

protected

by its four familiar walls.

Where I read about world events,

consequential things

happening faraway

I’m free to take or leave.

The news is relentless;

not a tsunami

where I could at least flee to higher ground,

but wave after wave

getting bigger and bigger

on top of a full moon tide.

A flood I can't wait out,

battering my coastal defences

even on slow news days.

Curiously, my life day-to-day

is much the same as always,

and the stillness here

in my quiet solitude

leaves the headlines feeling unreal.

Or real enough,

but still the same old noise;

like the animal sounds you hear out the door

on cold dark nights

that amount to nothing

when the morning sun returns.

But still, I follow the news

make my judgements.

Is this merely force of habit

I find hard to break?

A creature of routine

set in his ways

who finds comfort there;

like a workhorse

plodding along

ploughing the same old furrow.

Is it the example my parents set?

Back when people with ink-stained fingers

actually read

and trusted the press?

When after work

my father would commandeer his armchair

and disappear behind the paper, 

when on Saturdays

discarded broadsheets

would litter the wood-panelled den.

Or do I simply feel obliged

as a good citizen

to stay informed?

As if I wasn’t powerless.

As if my opinion mattered.

As if there’d be a test.

As if the four walls

enclosing this cozy room

really were the refuge I imagine.

My island of safety

my hardened redoubt.

My higher ground

against a rising sea

as the land recedes

and a faraway world comes crowding in to shore;

weary people

who are hungry and wet

loudly demanding their share.

I still read the daily newspaper I read in my adolescence. Which, believe it or not, is still being published and still doing well. (Yes, I was either precocious, or just a socially awkward teen!) And I still call it the “paper”, even though for years I've been reading it on a screen. …Do people still say “dial” a phone or “spin” a tune?

Hot black coffee and the news. 

But as I get older, I have to admit I care less and less, feel less engaged. Probably just worn out by the relentless sturm und drang. Trump hasn’t helped:  a daily diet of outrage and incredulity sure takes its toll. Or perhaps just consoled I’ll be mercifully dead by the time it all comes crashing down. Doesn’t make a difference how, whether it’s by climate change, geopolitical instability, natural disaster, nuclear war, pandemic, social inequality, or general human stupidity. My bet is it won’t be just one!