No Title Today
BY KARDELEN KALA (TRIN/I)
kala@ug.bilkent.edu.tr
North Korea's rocket in twenty pieces, the king of Spain in surgery, an Indian boy reunited with his family after finding his hometown on Google Earth, Günter Grass having things to say, David Cameron in Burma, British customs officials' rough treatment of illegal immigrants, Breivik declared sane (thank God for that!), a couple of gruesome murders in Brazil…
Same old same old. The Internet is full of these news snippets that are supposed to be important and interesting, and they are too, but sometimes I get worried about the matter-of-fact reactions I have to the pieces I read on religious sects and war crimes. I find myself questioning my own conscience, as well as the general treatment of the news by the media. Are these events supposed to sound so mundane? Oh, just another coup in an obscure African country that you didn't know about until some guy threw together a video documentary to garner publicity for himself as a filmmaker. Or an undercover journalist going into the "hermit kingdom" to be treated to the usual propaganda reserved for foreign journalists and tourists. Yet I don't seem to be able to look away, do I now?
A false sense of achievement and communication. Miscommunication through the illusion of a united world. Activism. The act of trying to improve what you don't understand. The act of judging from afar. Feeling satisfied with your shallow conclusions and never looking further. Oh, the satisfaction I get from the daily act of reading world news. I'm such a world citizen. I'm informed. I gobble up civil wars and law proposals like I've lived through them a thousand times. Sitting here in the comfort of my room reading world events. A world I don't get to travel. A world I get to follow through Facebook pictures of my friends.
Languages. Puns lost in translation. Everything lost in translation. Another great contributor to the perpetual miscommunication; and I'm a translation major. How the news travels through languages and changes accordingly. Modified to fit consumer interests. How little we get from the rest of the world simply because it's not interesting enough to the average Joe. People have lost the pleasure of knowledge. Knowing for the sake of knowing. Being informed. Being intellectual. Or maybe they never actually had it to begin it. How am I to know? I was taught that being aware of the world around me was one of the most important things in life, and I have easy access to many news outlets. Maybe I just assume that people used to care. Loss implies possession, after all.
What else do I have to add? I keep reading and writing to keep up the illusion, yet I am horribly disillusioned myself. "Lolita" and "The Bell Jar," moving on to God knows what. I don't want to do this anymore. No one listens to me and I listen to no one. I'll pretend not to be interested in anything until the next disaster hits or until I finally get an idea for writing something that I'm happy with. Hasn't happened in months, but I have faith. Hasta la proxima.