There has been an exponential increase in the use of irony in recent times, as people look for a defence against random tragedy and suffering in a world where traditional beliefs have fallen by the wayside.
As a literary and rhetorical device, irony has its place. But its rise in the sphere of human communication has put into shade its close relation, the blunt force instrument of good old fashioned sarcasm.
It may be derided as the weakest form of humour, but sarcasm is somehow more overt - more honest.
Let's give it a go.
There aren't enough programmes on television about forensic crime investigation.
We need more shows where a quirky Scottish or Irish forensic scientist, who has more than their own fair share of personal problems, gets too involved in investigations, and, despite having a tense relationship with their emotionally scarred superior, still manages to solve crimes in their spare time.
There aren't enough advertisements for those shows that claim dead people can speak - through forensic investigation.
There aren't enough shows on television about psychics who solve crimes using dead people as witnesses.
I've watched some, and gee, I'm convinced.
I can't understand why these crime solving methods don't take the leap from the investigatory stage to the judicial arena.
There aren't enough shows about tornadoes, or enough sympathy for people who build in an area called "the tornado belt", and are then shocked by the destruction and loss of life when a tornado passes through.
I need to know more about what happens right inside the swirling madness of these meteorological aberrations.
If only a group of extreme scientists could chase them down, while putting their lives at risk in tricked out vehicles with a vast array of scientific equipment, to gather that vital information for the betterment of mankind.
If only a team of documentary film makers could follow them and put together a show we could watch on the Discovery channel.
Perhaps someone could make a film about the subject, called Twister, starring Helen Hunt.
There aren't enough shows about the Titanic.
There aren't enough endless recreations of that famous night, that iceberg, the frozen and deadly Atlantic, dodgy rivets, insufficient life boats, the band that played while the ship sank, the song they were playing, or the poorly treated steerage passengers.
There aren't enough documentaries about the search for the wreckage.
Perhaps someone should make a film about the subject, starring Leonardo DiCaprio.
Finally, there aren't enough reality shows.
There aren't enough reality shows about police: chefs; emergency medicine; the world's worst prisons; plastic surgery for ugly people, or fat fat fatties losing weight.
And there aren't enough historical perspectives of World War 2.
And no: I'm not being ironic.
