I spend hours on assorted news sites during the day, keeping an eye out for stories I ought to report here the next day. It’s a weekly newspaper editor’s habit. And by the end of the week, I’m pretty much noozed out. But good.
Yesterday afternoon I had two stories in front of me and was trying to decide which one to use. I consulted my wife. “Here’s a police officer, in uniform, caught shoplifting a $140 pair of shoes,” I said. “This other story–”
“Why don’t you just put it away for a while?”
Okay. I will. An hour later, just before supper… I could not remember what the other story was.
Well, gee. The nooze is a tidal wave of claptrap every day. It renews itself like kudzu. No matter how you cut it back, it’s there again the next day. Or the next hour.
So I have forgotten what I thought, briefly, was an important nooze story. The dump-truck dumped its load and that one little pebble disappeared.
I’ve got to ease up on the weekends. The nooze is important, but it’s not all-important.
That news is in the Bible, and it doesn’t change.