There was a time when we'd have been unaware of the suicide bombers who blew people to smithereens in a busy market in Baghdad a few days ago...perhaps the news would have reached a few eventually, from letters sent by travelling relatives or maybe from a diplomat going home on leave from an Embassy in a quiet suburb.
Maybe we'd not have heard much about the appalling events in Paris...the news would have filtered through slowly and we certainly wouldn't have had the biggest overblown eejit in the history of 'pop' music announcing that 'ISIS are now attacking music' so help me if I should ever come across that man walking down a Dublin street...COPD or not, I'd be inclined to wring his feckin' neck...
But we live in an age where the news is instant...we can watch it unfolding in 'real time'...watch and listen to news reporters clutching their microphones, as they put on suitably mournful expressions while secretly hoping their report will be the one to hit the headlines in tomorrow's newspapers...
If we so wish, we can watch it again and again...see people in floods of tears...wrapped in survival blankets...being loaded into ambulances by desperate paramedics holding bottles of plasma aloft...cameramen shoving cameras into their faces and asking 'how do they feel'...they linger lovingly on patches of what might be blood on the pavements.
We are warned endlessly that the ISIS fanatics' will find their way into other European countries while politicians' say everyone coming to our shores will be carefully vetted...
Facebook has gone quite overboard, from the totally crass remark left by an acquaintance of my son, to people covering their photos with the French flag...
Perhaps the news ought to be avoided altogether...maybe we should bury our heads deep into the sand and pretend it isn't happening...isn't that what happened when the truth about the Nazi concentration camps first came out...grainy newsreels of piles of corpses.
Man's inhumanity towards his fellows leaves me feeling powerless and bewildered.