Adrian Barich: I prefer to keep things lighthearted but this video made me think about the meaning of life
Look, I don’t want to be labelled “Mr Deep and Meaningful” as I much prefer to take a lighthearted look at life and swim in the shallow end of the bad news pool, if you know what I mean.
That’s why I’m more than happy as a sports reporter: I find footy and soccer and cricket mostly uplift people, giving them a thrill, a bit of excitement in their lives, a distraction for some of the drudgery and many times, just a good feeling.
Having said that, I also have a healthy respect for my colleagues who do the heavy lifting at the top of the bulletin.
Our news reporters, including Geof Parry, Jess Page and Jerrie Demasi (apologises to all the other great journos at Seven, but brevity is fluency), supply us all with the information we need to make informed choices.
They give people a platform to be heard and hold higher powers to account, as if they are our very own watchdogs. In fact, I believe Geof’s nickname up at Parliament House is actually “The Rottweiler”.
As we all know, the best journalism exposes injustice, scrutinises people in power and champions good causes.
For my part as a sports presenter, I can also report on current events and share valuable information but it’s mostly not likely to be described as something that upon which democracy relies. Although when it comes to passion, that’s where sport can match the news: your footy team winning a premiership may not be life and death, but it certainly ranks very highly in many people’s lives.
This leads me to my sobering moment of the week — and a piece of video that touched my soul.
The words, posted on X, were delivered magnificently by Sir Anthony Hopkins, or someone who sounds remarkably like him — and for some people, it could be life-changing.
The delivery is all about eloquent stillness, as they say, just like in the movie Silence Of The Lambs. The voice is so soothing but is also defiant and powerful. It may or may not be the man himself — there is some suggestion it might even be an AI imitation — but the way it mixes sadness and melancholy with warmth and dread is quite remarkable.
I’m not even sure where the original piece comes from but it’s worth a look — maybe even worth replaying several times, because it really makes you think.
So what’s it about? Honestly, I’m not exactly sure but it feels like a “meaning of life” monologue. If it is, it’s definitely one of the better ones and could be succour for all of us struggling with the eternal question: the true purpose of our own existence.
Here’s what it says (try to imagine it’s coming to you in a light Welsh accent):
“In 100 years, in 2124, we will all be buried with our relatives and friends, strangers will live in our homes which we fought so hard to build and they will own everything we have today, including that car you spent a fortune on.
“Our descendants will hardly know who we were; how many of us know our grandfather’s father? After our death, we will be remembered for a few years and a few years later our history, our photos, our deeds will go into the dustbin of oblivion, we won’t even be memories.
“Maybe if one day we stop to analyse these questions, we would understand how ignorant and weak the dream of obtaining everything was. Always having more and more, without having time for the things that are really worthwhile in this life.
“I’d change all that to live, and enjoy those walks I’ve never taken, these ungiven hugs and kisses to our children and our loves. Those jokes we didn’t have time for.
“That is what life is all about. And we waste it day after day with greed and intolerance.”
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