Yeah, I know. He's A Serious Foreign
Correspondent.
He's also a shameless fear-monger.
You see, Mister Sheridan, I'm of A
Certain Age – when I was young, your predecessors in
fear-spreading would find an excuse about once a year to draw maps of
“nuclear devastation”. You know the kind: Vaporised at X
kilometres, killed by the blast at Y kilometres, dead in the
firestorm at Z kilometres, everyone in the last circle to die
horribly from radiation sickness, and so on.
I have no way to assess how many kids
got how depressed at this constant You-Will-Die theme.
The prophets of doom have been utterly
miserable since the end of the Cold War. Oh, they try to stir up a
good head of steam about Islam's Ultimate Plans for A Worldwide
Caliphate, but their heart isn't in it. What satisfaction is there in
frightening people who are already nuts enough to believe that Al
Qaeda can take over the world?
North Korea is a gift from Rupert:
nuclear-armed, belligerent and insane, and the belligerent howlers
want us to all return to the appropriate state of atavistic fear that
we abandoned when the Berlin Wall fell.
Take it from an old hand: don't fall
for it.
I have no idea what motivates the Greg
Sheridans of the world. Whatever makes someone want
to see other people fearful, miserable and blighted is a disorder too
deep for me to even discuss. The same bleak, hellfire Calvanist heart
beats underneath the chest of the cyber-war fear-monger, the “here
comes the Great Depression of three months from now”, the
End-is-Nigh sandwich-board wearers, and on and miserably on.
So I'm
calling this out. Greg, people are not “right” to be afraid of
North Korea, no more than they're “right” to fear that they're
going to get MRSA tomorrow and lose limbs, die in a crashing Qantas
airliner, or be hit by a meteor.
What
if North Korea launches a nuclear strike against the USA?
That
ends North Korea as a problem. Is China going to go to international
thermonuclear war over Pyong Yang? One that involves bombing, say,
Sydney – just because there are a few spare missiles hanging
around?
Don't
be ridiculous.
If it
did happen, what on Earth can you or I do about it? Worry?
Oh, well, there's the cure for Dear Leader's mental malady right
there?
Teach
my children to worry, like I did when the odious, unprincipled
bastards of another era scored sales by spreading misery?
I
refuse.
What's
the point of worrying about whether Pyong Yang is insane?
Save
your worries, your concerns, your sleepless nights – save them for
things that matter. The people around you, since you can't guarantee
that your lives and loves will last the next 24 hours, with or
without North Korea or Cassandra Sheridan. Worry about the mortgage
or the business, the boss or the kids' HSC, not missing the next
episode of Game of Thrones, what to have for dinner – the small,
the close, the personal, the things you can hold and trust and love.
Don't
listen to Sheridan: if you do, it won't improve either your life or
your epitaph.
And
anyhow, North Korea isn't about to bomb Sydney.
No comments:
Post a Comment