But news with a capital N has been in short supply of late. Sure, the death of Diana and the O.J. trial sold a few broadsheets and turned a few eyeballs, but the enduring post-war struggles to clean the environment, correct racism, and reform health care have not captured the national consciousness. Poverty no longer shames us. Ethnic struggles overseas do not entice. Remember Bosnia? We seem oddly content to navel gaze. Our disinterest in the world and this lack of news is starting to show. Starved for a compelling narrative of America, our newspapers, magazines, and 24-hour news channels struggle to be relevant. Time and Newsweek offer pseudo-news related to the latest Hollywood mega-blockbuster or overworked articles amplifying that week's human interest story. Bizarre filler pieces on nuns who chant and hiking disputes in Southern England clog the New York Times. Executives at CNN pray for another O.J. trial to bring their ratings out of the basement. And, of course, the inevitable happened: The fact that there was no news ultimately became news.

Perhaps this tedium is a result of living in an uninteresting time, one of peace and prosperity. Perhaps I am wrong to complain about this complacency. As we all spin off into our various personal orbits, the fortunate result might be that all news really will become local. We will know more about the poor corners of our town than we do of the Third World. But, I think I am too optimistic. With the unceasing chatter of the media, we remind ourselves that we are important, that we live "on the edge," that the future is ever on the horizon. I will join this conversation too because it is comforting and because this time is really all I have. Yet, in the back of my mind, there is an old Simon & Garfunkel lyric that just keeps playing and playing: "I can gather all the news I need from the weather report."