There is a great relief in hearing bad news, at least when one was expecting bad news. On hearing that a friend has indeed died, or that an election was not only lost, but lost badly, or that a tumor is inoperable, one can often discern a heavy breath, like a boot has lifted off the the hearer’s chest.

This seems like it might be true even when the news is the worst; despite the shock of this real tragedy, one is nonetheless freed from all the potential terrors that were until that moment haunting them.  What was once a minefield becomes a single crater. A pantheon of spectres evaporates in favour of one lone imp, somehow less terrible for being made flesh.

From which I would suggest we can learn something of the relationship between horror and terror. Would we rather feel the hammer come down, or have it still hanging over us?

Yet if one is unsure whether the news will be good or bad before it comes…