The Compostual Existentialist

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First off, from London, storm1jet2 texted and is ok, and my big high-flyer solicitor friend Tim (whom I see at Christmas) also let me know he is ok. We are still waiting to hear from “Little gay” Chris. But he’s probably in Singapore or Paris making clothes for someone famous. I don’t really want to go into anything about the bombings, mainly because I don’t know anything other than what I hear, see and read. In times like this its best to keep an open mind as to what’s gone on and not speculate or swallow all of the media we are fed.

The chaps in the office have Radio 2 on who are broadcasting bulletins nearly every 5 minutes. Yet little has changed. Nothing new to report, although occasionally someone will speculate on something and then moments later get their speculation disregarded because of something else. I’ll probably be flamed for saying this but there are other things going on in the world, G8 protests etc. yet the bombings seem to have blanketed most of the other news. Big news I suppose. But there’s only so much you can report without repeating yourself incessantly.

In the pub at lunch time they had the TV on Sky news, I heard and saw the same items being read about 4 times in 30 minutes, pictures of the damaged bus and live footage of a street where these guys were pushing these cages up and down the street. Cage pushing being completely newsworthy. Pointless news coverage! Yes I know people are concerned and worried about loved ones and things, I’m not going on about that. I do have compassion (despite what some people may think about me). What I am going on about is the 24 hour media circus constantly braying on about the same bits of news until something happens like an investigator farts or someone spots a box in a doorway and we end up with 2 hours of footage of a box, professors from the University of Bangladesh discussing boxes and parliament footage from right wing back benchers demanding a ban on boxes. The same treatment was given to the 9/11 events, the 12/27 tsunami and the death of the Pope. Endless…tiresome. Almost akin to 1960’s psychological torture. It got so bad that Ifan, the Landlord, flicked over to the cricket.

Another, unrelated, example is BBC breakfast. Yesterday when I turned on Breakfast (at about 7:55) it went like this.

Tail end of local weather
Graphics and music
Cue Dermot Murnanhahnehanmanan
Dermot (wearing a huge fuck off grin) Hello the Olympic committee results will be announced at 12ish today so I’m in Singapore and you’re not! Look at me! I’m in Singapore! Wooo!! Now back to Sian in London
Sian Fuck off Dermot you lucky bastard

Like why send him all that way to Singapore? What the fuck can he do there that he cant do from here other than grin his big “Look at me” grin? Ok at least Natasha Kaplinski (who secretly fancies me honest) in Kenya is curiously interesting for a brief angstroms of a second before she ponces about showing off her tan and talking to a bloke who milks elephants or something. But all Dermot seemed to do, from his studio overlooking the Singaporian skyline, was link to reporters at the venue itself!

A final example, is like when someone gets shot or sent to prison for stealing a cat they sometimes show the outside of their house. Why?! Like knowing where someone lives makes an ounce of difference as to what’s happened. Local BBC news is bad for this and also for using stock footage. Either that or there’s this couple that walk up and down Blackpool Promenade at the same time everyday for the past 5 years and just happen to time their passage passed the camera perfectly!

Why is it that these news corporations feel the need to report on things like this with tiresome repetitiveness? I know just watching a pretty face reading out the news while some background graphic changes is not very interesting. But neither is repeating the same thing over and over again. Really? Is it?? I mean like just think about repeating the same thing over and over again? It gets repetitive repeating things over and over really doesn’t it? I spoke to a professor here at the University of Liverpool who has written many books about repeating.

stegzy – Prof Proff Proph would you like to explain why we need to go into close detail and repeat ourselves time and time again?
Prof Proph – Yes I think I would like to explain in detail why we have the need to go into detail and repeat ourselves. We like to repeat ourselves because we like to know as much detail as we can about things. This is normal and I have in the past gone on about detail and why going into detail is important and crucial to our development of detail and incessant repeating of the same facts over and over again.
stegzy – I’m sorry I have to interrupt you there as we go live to the House of Commons where we have a motion raised by Daley Maylereadr MP for somewhere in Surrey
Cut to House of Commons
MP I suggest to this house that repetitiveness and fine detail should be banned and so should fine detail and repetitiveness. In fact I raise the motion that fine detail and repetitiveness should be made illegal as it only assists the rise in terrorism and repetitiveness. And should have an ID card too!

Anyway, I’ll shut up about it now.

If you know someone injured, missing or killed then you have my sympathy and thoughts. I don’t want to go on and on like BBC News 24. I’m going to have a news break for a couple of days I think.

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Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists.

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