Finding Joy in the Absurd: A Different Take on Political News5 min read

2024-11-18
Robert Middleton

This dialog with Marcus came out of my admission that I was spending way too much time watching and reading political news every day (often several hours). On the other hand, I felt that watching the monologs from the evening comics gave me something different – both information along with laughter and lightness about the news. So, I asked Marcus to comment on this perspective.

Marcus: Ah, Robert! You’ve taken the path of wisdom—or rather, the path of… humor, which may be the wisest path of all. If you’re going to expose yourself to the madness of the world, why not do it with a good laugh? Tell me, how do you feel now that you’ve traded hours of outrage for an hour of wit?

Robert: Honestly, I feel like I just got a lot of my life back. It’s like unburdening myself from a daily avalanche of “breaking news.” But there’s still that itch, you know?

Marcus: Ah, yes, the itch—the allure of outrage, wrapped up as “informed citizenship.” How much of that nightly dive into the political abyss was truly essential to your sense of duty?

Robert: Probably very little. But it felt essential, like if I didn’t watch, I’d be missing something vital. The comedic shows, though, give me a perspective that’s not just news—it’s absurdity, which feels healthier somehow.

Marcus: Precisely! When you watch Kimmel, Colbert, or Stewart, you’re getting a distilled form of reality, stripped of the pretense that the world is an ever-urgent fire. Humor reveals absurdity, and by laughing at it, you weaken its grip. Think of it as a nightly dose of levity against the weight of the day.

Robert: That’s why I always liked Bill Maher the best. He doesn’t just deliver news; he skewers both the left and the right equally with his rapier wit. That laughter is a relief.

Marcus: Indeed. And in laughing, you’re also gaining perspective. Political humor shows you the puppet strings, so to speak, and you get to see the folly of it all. Each punchline makes the world’s seeming importance shrink just a bit. With that space, you’re left with time. What will you do with that?

Robert: There’s plenty! Writing, music, projects around the house. Even spending more time with my wife, instead of us just sitting side-by-side, glued to our screens.

Marcus: Beautiful. You’re reclaiming your life as the main act, no longer relegated to a spectator in someone else’s performance. So, imagine if others did the same. What if everyone traded a few hours of news for laughter and real life?

Robert: Less screen time, more living time. And maybe even more laughter. Do you think it’s a mistake to be this… selective about what I watch?

Marcus: Not at all. in fact, it’s pretty Stoic. You’re taking control over what enters your mind. By choosing comedy, you’re choosing relief, perspective, and joy over the churn of outrage. If there’s a “mistake” here, it’s only in regretting that it took you this long to discover it.

Robert: You’re right, Marcus. It’s like I had this attachment to knowing everything, as if my attention alone could solve it all. But it never did, did it?

Marcus: Ah, the great myth: that our watchfulness is somehow a form of contribution. And yet, the world spins on, unaffected by our awareness of every turn. So why not laugh as it does?

Robert: Exactly. And I’m actually happier this way. The fewer outraged talking heads I see, the less anxious I feel about the state of the world.

Marcus: Now, there’s a revelation! If reducing hours of “vital” information leaves you happier, could it be that the “importance” of such news is largely self-inflated?

Robert: That makes sense. And honestly, I’m noticing the benefits already. I feel like I can breathe a little easier. I’m not carrying the weight of every headline with me all day.

Marcus: Ah, what a lovely image: no longer Atlas, bearing the world on your shoulders! Instead, you are Robert, liberated to laugh, to create, to connect. And you’ve chosen your news wisely—not because you’re uninformed, but because you’re better informed about what brings joy.

Robert: I like that—“better informed about what brings joy.” Marcus, maybe that’s the kind of information we need more of.

Marcus: Imagine if we focused on the truly essential news: stories of progress and resilience, of art and science, of human kindness—and yes, the occasional absurdity of politics. In doing so, we might see the world with fresher eyes, less clouded by the urgency of the next “breaking” catastrophe.

Robert: So, what would you say to someone still glued to the cycle? Someone who feels like they have to stay informed 24/7?

Marcus: I’d say this: The news will always be there, beckoning, insisting on its urgency. But so, too, will the laughter, the love, the small miracles of life. Choose carefully what you carry with you, for it will shape the world you live in. And if you can laugh while you do so, all the better!

Robert: Well said, Marcus. I’m convinced: from now on, it’s laughter first, headlines later… if at all.

Marcus: And may that laughter fill your days with lightness, Robert. Remember, the truly important news has always been within you—the life you’re living, the joy you’re cultivating, the people you’re loving.

Robert: Thank you again, Marcus!