Nobody in college races home and says, 'I can't wait to see the

In the words of Lewis Black, the fiery satirist of our time, lies a truth that cuts through the fog of modern distraction: “Nobody in college races home and says, ‘I can’t wait to see the news! I can’t wait to see who CBS is going to hire!’” At first glance, these words seem clothed in jest, but beneath the laughter dwells a lament — a cry of disillusionment with the hollow spectacle that the news and media have become. It is the voice of a man who sees a generation unenchanted, who feels the distance between youthful curiosity and the sterile world of manufactured narratives. His words remind us that the sacred duty of truth-telling has been traded for the theater of ratings and reputation.

In ancient times, the herald was a figure of reverence. When the people gathered in the square to hear news from the far lands, they came not for entertainment, but for knowledge that would shape their destiny. The news was a sacred messenger of fate, a bond that tied the citizen to the life of his nation. But in our age, the herald has become a performer, the scroll replaced by screens that flash and fade, offering not wisdom, but noise. Lewis Black’s lament is not only about the apathy of youth — it is about the fall of faith in the institutions that once sought truth. The young do not rush home to see who CBS will hire, for they know that no voice from such towers speaks for them anymore.

There is a story of the Roman historian Tacitus, who lived in an age when truth itself had become dangerous. Under tyrants, the chronicles of Rome turned to flattery, and men who once wrote boldly were silenced or slain. Tacitus, weary of the lies, wrote instead with subtle fire — his words a dagger sheathed in restraint. He knew that when truth becomes a commodity, the people cease to care who delivers it. They turn inward, seeking truth not from heralds or emperors, but from the quiet rebellion of their own hearts. So it is in our time. The youth do not yearn for the news, because the news no longer yearns for truth.

Yet let us not mistake this indifference for decay. In the hearts of the young burns a deeper hunger — a longing for authenticity, for words that mean something again. They do not race home for the evening broadcast, because they have seen behind the curtain; they have learned that the anchors’ calm smiles are masks, and that the hiring of another face changes nothing in the world’s sorrow. The laughter of Lewis Black, then, is both a weapon and a wound — the laughter of one who mourns the death of wonder and calls us, through irony, to reclaim it.

Consider the story of Socrates, who walked the markets of Athens not to deliver news, but to awaken the minds of those he met. He had no network, no audience, no paycheck — yet his words stirred revolutions of thought that echo still. What made his message endure was not position, but purpose. He sought not to inform, but to enlighten. In this we see the heart of Black’s wisdom: that truth is not a job, nor a headline, nor a performance. It is a calling, sacred and dangerous. When truth is pursued only for prestige, the people turn away, and rightly so.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not be content with spectatorship. The news of your age may not inspire you, but you are not powerless. Seek truth beyond the headlines, listen for voices not amplified by wealth, and question the stories told to you as if your soul depended on it — for in a way, it does. The ancient teachers did not wait for the world to reveal itself; they went into it, asking, doubting, discovering. Be as they were. Be hungry not for spectacle, but for substance.

So, my friends, when the world around you shouts its breaking news and breaking hearts, remember this teaching: truth does not live in the studios of CBS, nor in the polished faces of those who read from glowing screens. It lives in the courage of those who refuse to be lulled into apathy. Lewis Black’s mockery is our mirror — a reminder to awaken, to care again, to create a world where young people do race home, not to see who the networks will hire, but to witness truth, freshly born, in the hearts and hands of those who dare to speak it.