The Best Laid Plans.

Another day ruined – by BBC Jersey.

Writing this blog is a little light relief I indulge in between my political work. I usually enjoy producing the posts – and enjoy thinking about the great variety of subjects one could possibly write about.

I know – you can have too much ‘Politics’. I think I reached that point about 10 years ago. It is said that politics is an extremely low occupation – right down there with estate agents, journalists and lawyers. But – look on the bright-side – I could be a politician and an estate agent.

Just imagine – if you were an estate agent, a politician, a lawyer and a journalist – all at the same time – you could sprout horns and cloven hooves and start wondering around with a flaming pitchfork.

I have to turn away from politics from time-to-time in order to cleanse myself of the accreted debris of the occupation; the sense of futility; the existential bleakness; the utter tedium of debates; the ignorance; the lies; the stupidity.

So it was with pleasure I was looking forward to writing a post today that wasn’t focused upon ‘Politics’. I hadn’t quite chosen a subject, but a few ideas were milling around as possible topics: our cats, poetry, trees, literature, photography, my favourite music maybe? Or mountaineering? Travelling in India and riding on an elephant? Woodworking? The merits and de-merits of kiln-dried timber versus naturally seasoned timber? (OK – I know this last one is beginning to take us into nerd territory) – but – these and any number of other random disquisitions could have spilled across the electronic page.

So what went wrong?

Amongst my e-mails this morning was one from a news editor at BBC Jersey – objecting to my condemnation of the BBC in Jersey in yesterday’s post, “The Medium is the Massage Part 2.”

Reading the e-mail – a pathetic attempt to defend the indefensible – I was filed with that weary recognition of yet another occasion on which I was going to have to steel myself for battle – pick up the knuckle-dusters and punch away at a Jersey ‘ivory-towered media’ with the usually futility. For on display in the e-mail was a startling absence of understanding of what constitutes important and relevant news; an ignorance of the constitutionally defined purposes of the BBC; a number of assertions which are simply factually wrong and – and this is the angering part – a complete insensitivity for, and disregard of, the victims of the Jersey child abuse scandals.

I said in my posts of yesterday I would, at some point, devote one to each of the Jersey media. BBC Jersey is now top of that list.

Sometime in the next day or two I will take a close look at BBC Jersey.

But, perhaps tomorrow, I will be able to resume my musings upon something altogether less contaminating and depressing. But right now – I feel a strong urge to go and listen to some Joy Division.

Stuart Syvret

Book of the Post:

Tell Me No Lies: Investigative Journalism and its Triumphs, Edited by John Pilger.

Joke of the Post:

A BBC Jersey reporter rushes to the scene of a house fire. Fortunately no people were in the building as it was gutted by the flames. A number of eye-witnesses stand around watching the Fire brigade at work. The reporter asks them: ‘What did you see?’

One witness says ‘Luckily, there were no people in the building at the time, but a dog was trapped. A man broke the door down and rescued it from amongst the flames’

‘What great story’, says the journalist: ‘the news piece will be “Man Rescues Animal From House Fire.’

Another witness listening to the conversation says ‘And did you know, it was a States member who rescued the dog?’

‘Even more interesting!’ says the reporter ‘the story can be ‘Brave Politician Risks His Life To Save Dog From Blaze.’

A third witness says: ‘Yeah, and it was that Stuart Syvret who did it.’

‘Right’ says the BBC Jersey reporter, ‘that will be ‘Syvret Vandalises House Door And Steals Beloved Family Pet’.

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