Thirty Days Without News

There’s thousands of news stories every day. British teens spending hours on porn, world records for breasts, a twelve-year-old supposedly dying of joy over Lego. Spiegel, Twitter, the whole endless machine—politics, culture, business, nothing stops. But does any of it actually improve your life, or is it just noise filling your head?

Doc Dart used to sing for Crucifucks. Goes by 26 now. According to VICE (and as everyone knows, they always tell the absolute truth), he decided to completely check out. Doesn’t want to know anything about the world. Doesn’t care who the president is, whether there’s a war in Gaza, what’s happening in China—genuinely doesn’t give a shit. If you try to tell him something, he covers his ears.

Which made me wonder: what happens when you actually stop? Do you just miss some jokes at parties? Does your brain get slower? Do you turn into a hermit in your own head, making up news to fill the void? Does the silence eventually make you lose it?

Thirty days without news seemed like the test to try. No politics, no culture, no anything. Just silence.

But then it gets complicated. What counts as news? Does a text from a friend count? Something you overhear? How wide do you cast the net? And would it even matter—would you actually feel different? Would you notice?

I don’t know. The whole thing’s probably stupid. But I keep thinking about it anyway.