Sunday morning with The Thunder,
News mixed with Arty gloss,
A forest destroying tome
Of irrelevance and dross;
An hour or so's read about
The stress and the strife
Then in the recycling bin
And just get on with daily life.
So long ago in the past before
The days of 24 Hour News
With hordes of so called experts
To pontificate their views,
Repeated ever hour
Over and over again
With the odd update
Every now and then.
What would in times past rate
Four lines on an inside page
Now gets the full treatment in
This modern connected age.
But what's the alternative,
Hordes of alleged game shows
Full of supposed celebrities whom
Very few of the peasantry ever knows
(Claims to celebrity being vacuous
In these days of constant TV).
Or flip through the guide to
Check what else there is to see.
Maybe some form of sport
With a panel to analyse and dissect
More to fill in a few more hours
Than to do with sport i suspect
There's always a show on cooking
Acceptable I suppose overall
But when you've seen one
Frankly you've seen them all.
Rather wealthy people looking
To change just where they reside
With a TV presenter on hand
To take them on an exploratory ride.
Just the type of programmes
The zero hour workers need
As they struggle with their rents
And the families they have to feed.
Somehow this soma works
Seems to help make their lives complete
It's the only explanation I can find as to
Why they're not out rioting on the street.
But we're all in this together
Spout the privileged few.
I don't know how they get away with it
But amazingly, they do.
A situation that confounds
Folk more knowledgeable than me
So, it's back to The Thunderer,
And a nice strong breakfast cup tea,