Why does this blog make me sound like such a sanctimonious git?
Time to reappraise.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Been watching the news about the three women murdered in Ipswich during the last fortnight and the two further missing women, when it occurred to me - what is it with journalists' use of adjectives in headlines?
'The three murdered prostitutes' they screech. Do they ever say, 'The three murdered plumbers'? No, they bloody well don't. Are prostitutes somehow so much less human than the rest of us that they have to be defined, even in death, by their profession?
Which leads me to the other over-used adjective - 'black', as in 'the murdered black teenager' etc etc. This drives me nuts. The death of a teenager is always a tragedy, irrespective of colour and can it really be the journalists' intention always to imply that any murder of a black person must, by definition, be racist? I don't know the figures for murders of black people but am guessing that they probably mirror those for whites and other races, i.e. that the vast majority of murders are carried out by perpetrators known to the victim.
This is all so irritating and cynical. Journalists, of all people, must know the power of words and that the choice of one particular word over another is far more meaningful than it would appear at first glance. Let's hear simple headlines, for Gods' sake, especially on the BBC that we all pay for.
'The three murdered prostitutes' they screech. Do they ever say, 'The three murdered plumbers'? No, they bloody well don't. Are prostitutes somehow so much less human than the rest of us that they have to be defined, even in death, by their profession?
Which leads me to the other over-used adjective - 'black', as in 'the murdered black teenager' etc etc. This drives me nuts. The death of a teenager is always a tragedy, irrespective of colour and can it really be the journalists' intention always to imply that any murder of a black person must, by definition, be racist? I don't know the figures for murders of black people but am guessing that they probably mirror those for whites and other races, i.e. that the vast majority of murders are carried out by perpetrators known to the victim.
This is all so irritating and cynical. Journalists, of all people, must know the power of words and that the choice of one particular word over another is far more meaningful than it would appear at first glance. Let's hear simple headlines, for Gods' sake, especially on the BBC that we all pay for.
From the sublime to the ridiculous.
I have been suffering from a short attention span this last few days but did note a very odd juxtaposition of programmes on Channel 4 tonight. The first was on anorexia - interesting and shocking, not least because many of the young people needing treatment actually weighed more than I do - but who obviously had huge problems around food.
This was followed by another fascinating view of the programme whose name temporarily escapes me, but it's something like 'Walk off that fat' where a fantastic array of characters, all clinically and mostly morbidly obese, attempt to walk 500 miles across Britain in an attempt to change their lives. They were wonderfully varied - some were full of self-pity and endless excuses whilst others were simply stars, most notably a young Londoner, who took no prisoners in placing the blame squarely on his and his associates' own shoulders. He was all the more admirable for that, and for the humour and determination with which he tackled this daunting task - and achieved it ultimately, with a corresponding rise in his self-esteem and confidence.
They were a motley bunch - one woman suffered from cellulitis, without a word of complaint, and was distraught to be told that she could not continue as she had been determined to use the opportunity to turn her life around; another didn't stop whingeing from the moment she arrived and tried every trick in the book to get out of it. Her boyfriend, who obviously loved her and wanted a different life for her, wasn't having any of it and persisted in encouraging her to stay but then, bad news - Daddy arived at one of the rest stops - bearing cake, the stupid man - and an unlimited supply of sympathy and ready-made excuses as to why his daughter couldn't manage this walk, unlike the others taking part. So, of course, with Daddy's pathetic and misplaced sympathy and encouragement, she gave up. Bet her boyfriend was furious. I found myself asking what needs of Daddy's were being served by having a 30-year-old daughter who was so dependent and lacking in self-esteem, and the answers I came up with were not complimentary.
Meanwhile, it blew my mind when one of the women pointed out that each of her legs must weigh 8 stone!!!!!!!!!!!! That's more than I weigh, in total. Another of the guys (my favourite - the determined one) said that his excess weight was the equivalent of carrying around a sofa everywhere he went. Those poor people must be so exhausted all the time.
Still, the programme did confirm all my previously-held views that those worthy of respect are those who face up to their own part in something and do what they can to face it, not those who make the most excuses and never take responsibility for themselves.
On another note, why don't young people know how to party any more? But that's for my next post.
I have been suffering from a short attention span this last few days but did note a very odd juxtaposition of programmes on Channel 4 tonight. The first was on anorexia - interesting and shocking, not least because many of the young people needing treatment actually weighed more than I do - but who obviously had huge problems around food.
This was followed by another fascinating view of the programme whose name temporarily escapes me, but it's something like 'Walk off that fat' where a fantastic array of characters, all clinically and mostly morbidly obese, attempt to walk 500 miles across Britain in an attempt to change their lives. They were wonderfully varied - some were full of self-pity and endless excuses whilst others were simply stars, most notably a young Londoner, who took no prisoners in placing the blame squarely on his and his associates' own shoulders. He was all the more admirable for that, and for the humour and determination with which he tackled this daunting task - and achieved it ultimately, with a corresponding rise in his self-esteem and confidence.
They were a motley bunch - one woman suffered from cellulitis, without a word of complaint, and was distraught to be told that she could not continue as she had been determined to use the opportunity to turn her life around; another didn't stop whingeing from the moment she arrived and tried every trick in the book to get out of it. Her boyfriend, who obviously loved her and wanted a different life for her, wasn't having any of it and persisted in encouraging her to stay but then, bad news - Daddy arived at one of the rest stops - bearing cake, the stupid man - and an unlimited supply of sympathy and ready-made excuses as to why his daughter couldn't manage this walk, unlike the others taking part. So, of course, with Daddy's pathetic and misplaced sympathy and encouragement, she gave up. Bet her boyfriend was furious. I found myself asking what needs of Daddy's were being served by having a 30-year-old daughter who was so dependent and lacking in self-esteem, and the answers I came up with were not complimentary.
Meanwhile, it blew my mind when one of the women pointed out that each of her legs must weigh 8 stone!!!!!!!!!!!! That's more than I weigh, in total. Another of the guys (my favourite - the determined one) said that his excess weight was the equivalent of carrying around a sofa everywhere he went. Those poor people must be so exhausted all the time.
Still, the programme did confirm all my previously-held views that those worthy of respect are those who face up to their own part in something and do what they can to face it, not those who make the most excuses and never take responsibility for themselves.
On another note, why don't young people know how to party any more? But that's for my next post.
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