Girl Talk: Tragedy... we're so over that

The ripple effect has had a devastating impact on our world lately. Christchurch and Japan have been in the drop zone of a couple of the planet's recent surface hiccups and thousands have paid for this accident of geography with their lives.
We have all been affected in one way or another and how much we react and how long we are focused on each tragedy is driven not by their scale but by our emotional and physical proximity to it.
Having worked in TV and print news, I've seen the machinations behind the scenes as one story is selected over another and pushed up or down the bulletin or from the front to the back of the paper, depending not so much on its inherent news-worthiness, but the perceived value the target market places on it.
If it bleeds, it leads and lately there has been so much bleeding - physical, economic and emotional - that journalists have been like kids in a candy store with too much pocket money and too many sweet treats to choose from.
Covering a major natural disaster is a no-brainer. In the immediate aftermath, the public demand and expect to see it reported from every conceivable angle from sun-up to sundown. But choosing the acceptable moment to stop covering it requires the sort of mental dexterity normally reserved for circus performers who walk the tight rope over hungry tigers.
Although we won't admit it to anyone, we all have a limited capacity for human misery and chaos. Lots of us are over Christchurch, an increasing number are even over Fukushima despite ongoing developments, and keeping up the ratings on the 6 o'clock news depends on striking a balance and reading the public mood.
Clearly, one metropolitan newspaper detected a significant over-saturation of genuine news and dealt to it swiftly this week with leading online stories about loudly purring cats, women being eaten alive by maggots and fat men being fused to their chairs.
All major dailies rated the joyful and largely harmless revenge of two jilted women on a cheating lover far higher than nuclear meltdown and civil war.
The truth isn't pretty but it is the truth: literally and figuratively, the shockwaves are getting smaller and the ripples of major tragedy are retreating in softer circles. Our desire to be informed is slowly being corrupted by the urge to be entertained and, where possible, at other people's expense.
Much to the ire of politicians across the spectrum, this means the column inches and news minutes previously diverted to actual news have re-focused on more regular fodder.
Major impending cuts to the public service and minor sex scandals are again headline news. It always makes me wonder just what dubious acts of policy and personality go unreported when more significant breaking stories preoccupy the national and international media.
If Darren Hughes had allegedly misbehaved a few weeks earlier, no one would have cared and his years of spotless and selfless public service would have continued, unreported, for many more.
I have sat through morning news meetings when producers mainlining caffeine have gone grey in 30 seconds because nothing mad or bad enough is presenting itself as a leading story. I have also watched, amazed, hours later when the headlines go to air and something truly unremarkable has been given a beat-up that would make even Rihanna blush, just so we can all sit back and learn about the "hard news" before settling in for Shortland Street.
Yes, it is a cynical way to look at life and its presentation, but in a world where things are not always as they seem, it is a realistic one. It is also, perhaps, the reason why instead of reporting the news I now mostly just consume it, and with a pinch of salt and scepticism even then.