Lately I’ve fallen into the routine of putting my alarm clock on the radio setting.

Instead of the usual hellish bleat (a suitable warning for nuclear attack or biohazard breach), I am treated to the susurrations of those crazed liberals over at NPR.

You know the bunch I’m talking about. They can’t wait for the second Obama term so they can take to the streets singing “La Marseillaise” and start chopping the heads off Real Americans.

Liberalism leads to socialism, communism and, finally, soccer. Then Satan appears on the pitch and all kinds of gnarly CGI is unleashed. Yep. That’s how it all goes down.

I will surely tire of this in a few more days. You can only wake up to bad news so often, and the news is always bad.

The bad stuff. This seems to be the agreed-upon definition of news. You never hear this:

“Now the news. Several billion people had an ordinary day yesterday. Nothing of much consequence happened to them. For more on the story, we’re joined by Dr. Lloyd Forehead of the Acme Institute. Good morning, Dr. Forehead.”

“Good morning.”

“Reports indicate that billions of people had an ordinary day yesterday.”

“That’s right, Jane. The data isn’t exact, but we’re estimating a significant portion of humanity experienced nothing out of the ordinary on March 15.”

“Give us some idea of the numbers. Two billion people? Three billion?”

“Oh, easily.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

“Well, Jane, our studies show that most people are creatures of habit. They tend to mind their own business and do the same things over and over. And let’s not forget ‘ordinary’ is a relative term. But, yes, there are billions out there who had a pretty normal Thursday, and will probably experience more of the same today.”

Death stories almost always lead the news. An estimated 250,000 to 300,000 Homo sapiens die every day. Death is still the undisputed champion of bad tidings, even though most deaths don’t make the national news. Many deaths barely rate a mention in the local fishwrap.

I don’t need the radio or TV or internet (which connects us all, amen) to confirm what I know: Death is swaggering around out there, running up the score.

Statistics tell us the news should be leading with a different story. Almost 500,000 brand-new Homo sapiens arrive every day. But these arrivals almost never make the news …

“Did you hear about all those babies that were born in India yesterday? Wow!”

“Lots of babies born in Kentucky, too, is what I heard.”

“What about Belgium?”

“I didn’t see anything on Belgium, but I’m pretty sure a few popped out over there.”

Welcome, babies! You can say this any time, day or night, and you will be making sense.

Waking up to the latest on Syria and, well, a whole lot of other places? That’s a grim way to start the day.

Somewhere at this moment death is having another perfect game, while the world’s most powerful nations ride the bench.

“You really mowed down the opposition out there today, Big D.”

Death, hideous all-star, mugs for the cameras.

I wish you the most ordinary of days.
______________________________

John Hicks is on his way and should be there in about ten minutes.

John Hicks lives outside the city limits, where eagles dare.

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