THAT’S NEWS TO ME

The next time I watch the 11 o’clock news I’m checking for an Adam’s apple. Let me explain… I was unknowingly tricked into watching the after prime-time news. I was tuned into a ball game, and when it ended-it actually ended. Normally that “buffer” of listening the post-game bore off is a benign enough space to decide my next time sucking vampire move. However, the nightly news detonated on the screen like a drag queen bursting into a hotel room for a bachelor party-sporting full make up with their cock taped out of sight. This stunned along with confused feeling is the same one I get when I call my parents: I dial the phone, expecting to get their voice mail, but they answer instead which completely throws off my mental compass. By the time I figure out what is going on I’m in the middle of a conversation about the fucking weather.

With heavy competition from cable, the Internet and psychics, local news is really only slightly better than smoke signals and really only useful for rural school closings or slowly bringing a coma patient up to speed. Let’s face it, if you regularly watch the 11PM news in the 21st century your first priority is not to be informed, it’s to be the first one posting video of an anchor or reporter’s epic fail on YouTube. The model for the modern newscast was conceived before everyone had smart phones giving them the world at the end of their arm so they had to drink at work all day to keep occupied. People don’t want to wait until the end of the day to find out what’s going on, however they still watch TV, so all it really takes is a few nips and tucks to make the 11 o’clock news relevant again.