{"id":7563,"date":"2025-05-29T07:47:07","date_gmt":"2025-05-29T06:47:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edgeverse.org\/?p=7563"},"modified":"2025-05-30T02:29:34","modified_gmt":"2025-05-30T01:29:34","slug":"headlines","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/edgeverse.org\/?p=7563","title":{"rendered":"Headlines"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\"\"\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t

Headlines<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
By A.P. Atkinstory and Seth Newswynn<\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

\u201cGreat story, Craig!\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Graham slapped him hard on the back as he walked past.
Craig, unfortunately, had been so engrossed in his work that he hadn\u2019t noticed him approach. As a consequence, this shocked him rather more than it might have, and he cried out in surprise, \u201cJesus, Graham! What the bloody hell?\u201d
He grinned at him, his wide, ugly lips contorted into a vicious smile. \u201cGreat story yesterday,\u201d he said again. \u201cI loved it! \u2018Woman Runs Herself Over.\u2019 Utterly brilliant. For some reason it made me think of my wife\u2014and in a good way for once.\u201d
\u201cThat means a lot coming from the worst editor in the history of the industry,\u201d Craig quipped, his eyes flicking back to his monitor where he was writing yet another article which may, or may not, turn out to be utterly brilliant.
\u201cWhere do you even get this crap?\u201d he said with a sneer, inhaling a long drag on a cigarette. Having it lit indoors in their office was technically illegal, but he would often argue that such written rules didn\u2019t apply to the press, especially since it was only technically an office. \u201cI mean, it was the worst kind of tabloid crap, but that\u2019s what sells. And, I like anything that makes me laugh.\u201d
\u201cI made it up,\u201d said Craig. He grinned to himself. \u201cI make up about ninety percent of the articles I submit to you. You never check them, so it doesn’t matter.\u201d
Graham tilted his head off to one side. \u201cOf course it doesn\u2019t matter\u2014that\u2019s why I never check them,\u201d he said with an uncharacteristic outburst of honesty, quite unbefitting anyone working in journalism.
\u201cI mean,\u201d continued Craig. \u201cSqwawker Press is one of the worst news websites in the entire Western world. Our audience doesn\u2019t come here to be informed, they come here because they don\u2019t know how to operate search engines properly.\u201d
\u201cNobody reads the news to be informed, period,\u201d agreed Graham. \u201cThey read it to be told they were right all along about everything, to be reassured that they\u2019re just better than other people. That\u2019s pretty much why I got into the job in the first place.\u201d
Craig nodded. \u201cAnd our audience clearly aren\u2019t better than some breeds of dogs, but at least they\u2019re not stupid enough to run over themselves with their own car. Some idiot tries to rob a gun shop armed with a knife, nobody cares if it\u2019s true or not; the only truth that matters is that it wasn\u2019t them. So I figure we throw out entertaining articles citing an unnamed victim, and nobody ever cares, right? Hell, we\u2019re doing these semi-literate morons a favour.\u201d
\u201cSounds about right to me,\u201d Graham agreed. He was a desperately loathsome person, and was frequently described as such by his own wife, who had only married him because he drunkenly knocked her up at a party. Why he married her was even more baffling. \u201cThing is though, you don\u2019t have to prove anything to me. I realise these things matter to you, but I know the truth is that you didn\u2019t make it up at all. It\u2019s still a great fit for our business-model, and as long as you keep writing the same crap that\u2019s befitting a journalist of your calibre, I\u2019ll be happy to publish it.\u201d
\u201cInteresting!\u201d Craig said, rubbing his chin. \u201cWhy would you think that I didn\u2019t make it up? I\u2019m the guy who lost a proper job at a prestigious national news outlet after getting caught with three other journalists snorting cocaine off the breasts of a hooker.\u201d
Graham nodded. \u201cI always wondered about that. Could you really not tell she was already dead?\u201d
\u201cI could not\u2014I\u2019m not a doctor. So, with my horrendous grasp on reality and poor adherence to societal norms, why is it so hard for you to believe that I made up a story about a woman who accidentally ran herself over? I mean, I have no decency or moral fortitude whatsoever, let alone journalistic integrity. I even put that on my resume when I applied for the job here.\u201d
\u201cYou used every word in that sentence correctly,\u201d Graham told him. \u201cThat puts you head and shoulders ahead of most of the garbage we get in here.\u201d
Some of the garbage they got there took an interest in the conversation. A head poked up, belonging to an ageing, slender man with long hair that had turned grey while waiting patiently to be properly cut. He had hollowed-out red eyes and an uneven goatee beard. \u201cEasy now,\u201d he said in weak protest. \u201cI\u2014like\u2014try my best, man.\u201d
\u201cShut up, Ralph,\u201d said Graham. \u201cSmoke some more weed and keep your head down.\u201d
\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t speak to Ralph like that,\u201d said Katherine, the only other qualified journalist in the office. She had the kind of face that suggested she was either as in-bred as the Royal Family, or had been modelled on a small pony.
Graham nodded. \u201cYou\u2019re right there,\u201d he agreed. \u201cThat\u2019s the way I should speak to you!\u201d
She grunted and shook her head.
Graham beamed a happy smile, taking a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of insulting his staff.
\u201cIt\u2019s just fiction, I promise you,\u201d Craig said, looking rather confused about just exactly why his explanation wasn\u2019t finding its mark. \u201cI fabricated a woman who had a flat tyre. She got out of her car, leaving it in Drive while she checked on the wheel. By some freak mishap, mixed with her own stupidity, the handbrake failed and the car rolled over her head, sparing the world from having to deal with one more idiot.\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s beautiful,\u201d Graham said, gazing out from his twisted thoughts. \u201cThat\u2019s how I dream my wife will leave me. At least it is now.\u201d
\u201cI promise though, I made it all up.\u201d
\u201cBut I know you didn\u2019t,\u201d Graham said with one of his appallingly lecherous smirks. \u201cMrs Coulson, mother of one and husband of Bernard Coulson. A tragic death that the police have ruled \u2018misadventure\u2019 and her Bernard described as \u2018something of a relief.\u2019\u201d
\u201cNo, Graham. You can\u2019t just add made-up names to these things, or you\u2019ll get into trouble. The trick is in leaving the details blank to protect the families, or whatever crap you feel like making up. You didn\u2019t add those names, did you?\u201d
\u201cYou can stop messing about now,\u201d the editor told him, flicking the still-lit cigarette into a waste-paper basket where it smouldered impotently. \u201cI\u2019m not a complete idiot, even if my wife and daughters think I am\u2014and tell me with depressing frequency. I liked your story, you sold it with a compelling headline, so I looked it up to confirm the details, just out of interest. It\u2019s all there in the police records.
\u201cSo well done with that one, keep it up! Five stories like that a day from you, and I\u2019ll make sure you get one of the nicer office chairs\u2014one with a back. Ralph\u2019s probably.\u201d
Craig watched as Graham lumbered away, his suit several sizes too small and several degrees too stylish for a man like him. He shook his head and tried to forget that conversation, which to him had seemed even more bizarre than all the attention the media had given to one dead prostitute.
He closed his current article, the one where his headline read, \u2018Local Spaceman Says Carrots Were Key.\u2019 He opened a browser and began searching for the name that Graham had dropped him. Sure enough, there was a news article from a far more reputable sounding journalistic resource with the tedious headline \u2018Roadside Tragedy Claims Mother of One.\u2019 He rubbed his chin and frowned to himself as he read the details, which entirely mirrored his own work. He appeared somewhat concerned as each fact, one after another, checked out.
\u201cWhat the hell?\u201d he muttered to himself. \u201cI was sure I made that up.\u201d
With a mind addled with various drugs snorted from the breasts of various women\u2014some alive\u2014he could never entirely be sure of what was completely, absolutely and totally real and what was wholly, thoroughly and altogether fabricated. Most of his articles fell somewhere in the middle, although he didn\u2019t normally bother to try to confirm this.
More confused and curious than interested in doing his job, he looked over his back-catalogue of journalistic triumphs, and found a recent story that had blossomed from his fevered imagination with the headline, \u2018Bloke Nearly Loses Left Testicle.\u2019 He smiled as he recalled that one, the tale of a gentleman who had suffered a minor accident in his car, clipping the curb as he went round a corner and accidentally crashing into a parked vehicle. The jolt of the impact dislodged a glass jar containing his surgically removed left gonad which fell out of a bag and began rolling around in the back. Not wishing for it to end up lost beneath the seat, he got out of his car to find it and was instantly killed when a truck hit him. The gonad was later recovered.
That one had been inspired by his ex-wife\u2019s new boyfriend.
The best part was that when he submitted it, Graham had laughed loudly enough for the whole office to hear and had ironically declared, \u201cYou couldn\u2019t make this crap up!\u201d
Searching through the internet, Craig, rather disturbingly discovered that the crap he had very much indeed made up had grown from a kernel of truth. One Mr Groves, who was returning from hospital after an operation to remove a tumour from a very unpleasant spot, had met a fate exactly as described in his own story.
\u201cThis is weird,\u201d Craig said loudly.
Along the desk, Katherine, a woman with the moral decency of a shark said, \u201cWhat happened, did you spell everything correctly?\u201d She laughed at her own joke, a hollow guffaw that whistled through her gigantic and misshapen teeth.
\u201cMellow out, guys!\u201d said Ralph, his voice oddly grave.
\u201cMy stories are true!\u201d Craig said with a curious frown.
\u201cYour stories are meant to be true, you piece of crap. That\u2019s not weird, that\u2019s your job.\u201d
\u201cYeah,\u201d he agreed. \u201cBut we all know that none of us does our job.\u201d
\u201cFair point,\u201d she agreed. \u201cSo what the hell are you going on about?\u201d
\u201cWell, like everyone in our profession, I make up most of my stories,\u201d he explained. \u201cI pride myself in just how little I actually care about any of this. I just write down any old crap that comes to mind when I\u2019m sitting on a deadline. Graham doesn\u2019t care about anything that happens after lunch because by the time he gets back to the office, his brain is mostly made of beer, so none of it matters one iota.\u201d
\u201cWe\u2019re journalists,\u201d she said with a frown. \u201cIt\u2019s what we do.\u201d
Ralph nodded in agreement. \u201cIt\u2019s funny because it\u2019s true.\u201d
Craig held up a hand and said, \u201cBut now I\u2019m looking it up, it seems they\u2019re actually true. They really happened, exactly as I described them.\u201d
\u201cSo you copied them?\u201d she asked, sounding like she was only half paying-attention.
He shook his head and scowled. \u201cNo, I made them up. I just came up with any old crap and wrote it down, but now I look into it, they\u2019re true. But they can\u2019t be!\u201d
She took a deep swig from a cardboard cup of the world\u2019s worst coffee. \u201cThat\u2019s not how the world works,\u201d she told him, citing conventional wisdom. \u201cThings happen\u2014or don\u2019t\u2014and then we write about them so other people know what happened, and what the correct opinion on the topic should be. It\u2019s not the other way around.\u201d
Craig made a pained thinking face. \u201cThe other way around,\u201d he said with a smirk. \u201cLike if we made something up and told people about it, and that made it actually happen?\u201d
\u201cNo,\u201d she told him. \u201cThe world doesn\u2019t work that way. We just write nonsense and people read it while they take a shit, probably because they couldn\u2019t find a decent game to play on their phones. We\u2019re not changing the world, Craig, and we\u2019re certainly not making it.\u201d
\u201cHere\u2019s another one,\u201d he said in surprise. \u201cI wrote \u2018Council Wants to Ban Politics\u2019 and here it is. A small town wants to remove politics from their decision-making process. It\u2019s exactly how I wrote the story.\u201d
\u201cIdiot!\u201d she told him, which seemed fair. \u201cYou\u2019re just crazy!\u201d
\u201cStrange things happen, dude!\u201d said Ralph, butting. \u201cOne time I had a dream that I was a cat stuck in a washing basket. Guess what happened?\u201d
Craig frowned, hoping against reason he wouldn\u2019t tell them.
Shattering his hopes and dreams, he failed to not continue and said, \u201cA dog attacked old Mrs Kenner on my street, biting her left nipple and knee so badly that she had to have seventeen stitches.\u201d
\u201cWhat?\u201d Katherine asked, saving Craig the trouble.
\u201cYou see, I was the cat and I was watching, but I was scared of the dog, so I hid in the basket and didn\u2019t see anything,\u201d he explained. \u201cSo it really happened and I saw it, except I wasn\u2019t looking the right way.\u201d
\u201cIs that even the same thing?\u201d Craig asked, furrowing his brow. \u201cI\u2019m a bit lost.\u201d
\u201cWell, man\u2026\u201d he began, nodding with undue enthusiasm. \u201cYou have to think about whether we report the news, or if we make the news. Do we see the world and tell the world what we saw, or do we\u2014like\u2014tell people what happened, because it happened? And what happens if it didn\u2019t happen before we said it happened, did it then happen because what happened was that we said it happened?\u201d
\u201cI have a headache!\u201d Craig said. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I asked.\u201d
\u201cThis again!\u201d Katherine said with a roll of her eyes. \u201cHe said this before, something about if enough people believe something is real, then it becomes real.\u201d
\u201cSomething like that, man!\u201d said Ralph. \u201cSomething just like that. You have to look at the bigger picture. We tell people what to think, what to believe. They don\u2019t question us because we\u2019re the news\u2014our job is to give them facts, and their job is to believe the facts. Make enough people believe a thing and that thing becomes real. That\u2019s why they work so hard at telling the news their way. They know it\u2019s true. People make reality, and we make the people create the reality we want them to create.\u201d
Craig sighed. \u201cThat headache is getting worse.\u201d
\u201cI mean, just think about aeroplanes,\u201d continued Ralph. \u201cThere\u2019s no way a machine that heavy could defy gravity and fly halfway across the world stuffed with punters. Charge them a high enough fee and give them a boarding pass though, and it becomes too ridiculous not to be true. Their faith that they haven\u2019t been ripped off is what puts them in the air and keeps them there, oblivious to the fact that it\u2019s obviously impossible.\u201d
\u201cLet me tell you what I think,\u201d began Katherine. \u201cThe world is a far stranger place than anything any of us could conjure. Everything we come up with, no matter how ludicrous, has more than likely actually happened to someone, somewhere. It\u2019s a statistical inevitability.\u201d
\u201cSo you mean like a coincidence?\u201d said Craig.
\u201cMore a law of averages,\u201d said Katherine.
\u201cNah, I don\u2019t buy it.\u201d Craig turned and stepped over to the corner office and began hammering on Graham\u2019s door. He let himself in, and before the editor could even react, he stammered, \u201cUnsound happenings are afoot, Graham!\u201d
\u201cAre you still on drugs?\u201d he asked, not unreasonably.
\u201cNo,\u201d he asserted. \u201cNot today anyway\u2014you don\u2019t pay me enough.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re damned right I don\u2019t!\u201d
Craig took a deep breath. \u201cLook, those stories I wrote\u2014I made them up. I just pulled them out of my arse, no references, no nothing. Now, when I try looking them up, it turns out they really happened and are being reported on other news websites. Did you edit the stories? Did you add fake details? Did you sell my work to other sites, and if so, why aren\u2019t I getting a credit or a slice of the commission? What\u2019s going on here, Graham?\u201d
Graham listened, mostly, on and off, and then said, \u201cAre you still on drugs? Seriously?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m not on drugs!\u201d he insisted. \u201cBut the stories I made up are really happening. If you didn\u2019t edit them and sell them off to our competitors, then the things I\u2019m writing are starting to become real. How is that possible, Graham?\u201d
\u201cGet out of my office and go and do some work,\u201d the editor told him. \u201cAnd don\u2019t come back without enough drugs to share with me.\u201d
Craig left, a gigantic scowl painted on his flushed, reddened face.
As he skulked out back to the main office, Katherine quipped \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter? You didn\u2019t tell him what Ralph said, did you?\u201d
Craig glared at her. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t want to end up in a straight-jacket.\u201d
She grinned, her monstrous teeth jutting through her lips haphazardly as she did. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d she told him. \u201cI just wrote an article to cheer you up. A balding, overweight middle-aged journalist died today when a freak set of circumstances led to him being crushed by a falling piano. My headline is, \u2018Area Man Finally Faces the Music.\u2019 I just submitted it\u2014it will be out tonight!\u201d
Craig\u2019s eyes widened as she laughed hysterically.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\"\"\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

Headlines is a story inspired by writing The Big Picture. Investigating news headlines to see how ridiculous they are is actually a torturous process, but also highly revealing in terms of just how mind-crushingly terrible modern media is. So we decided that a fun story was needed, to gently poke fun at the nonsense that is our current news-delivery-infrastructure.
This story plunged headlong into philosophical territory, into the concept that consciousness creates the universe. Well, what if it did? What if we could actually set events in place by thinking about them, or in this case, writing horrible, misleading, cliche-ridden nonsense about them?<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n