Laura Kuenssberg: the fact that people hate her shows that she is an impeccable journalist

A very accurate analysis.

The Personal Blog of Henry Jones

The English novelist George Orwell once said, ‘Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed’. Not only do I like this quote, but I agree with it. I personally don’t think a good journalist should be liked; a good journalist might one day report on something that makes you like them, but the next day, because they’re a good journalist, will report on something you don’t like.

Laura Kuenssberg is an example of a brilliant political journalist because, I’d argue, absolutely everyone hates her (hyperbole intended): Tory or Labour; male or female; Christian or Atheist; Leave or Remain; for Scottish independence or against: because she reports on the facts, people don’t like her. Any fact will always be damming to a group.

Kuenssberg has received anger from all directions in the past few years. During this year’s snap election, she was given a bodyguard, after she received abuse from…

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Feeling quite chuffed actually

There you go.  The title is a British is you can get.  Actually.

Three quarters of the way through the year 2017, and I’ve written a daily entry in my Moleskine A5 size diary for every day bar about five or six days.  (That was the old-fashioned way of blogging.)  My best year (so far – three months to go) ever.

I guess it’s a case of self-discipline and just getting into the habit.

Still more Adrian Mole than Samuel Pepys, however. 🙂

Have an entry a day, won’t you!

My Ex-Pat Grump

I think I’m going to sound like one of those Torygraph readers, bashing out a fuming letter and calling for the return of:

  • The birch
  • Capital punishment
  • National service
  • The 11-plus exam

I’m not.  But I feel the need to rant about modern society, at least, in the city of Düsseldorf.

Why do so many passengers on the S-Bahn (local stopping trains), U-Bahn (the Tube/subway) and trams insist on doing one of two things during rush hour.

  1. Sit on the window seat, bag on aisle seat.
  2. Sit on aisle seat, with window seat unoccupied.

Oh, and youngsters, using half-price child tickets, never, ever give up their seats to adults, even to Oma who’s about to join Hugh Hefner, or Frau Schwanger who’s 8.5 months pregnant and hours away from contractions.

Am I being too harsh?  As a pads brat, I come from a disciplined environment, where you do without moaning, and defer to your seniors.  For me it was a pleasure to stand up and offer my seat to an adult, without having to be prompted.

(Pardon me while I get some Brasso to polish my halo.)

Earlier this week I boarded the team home after a session down the English Library.  Lots of people standing.  Lots of schoolkids sitting, bags on the adjacent seat.

I’d like to sit here, please.

(Tut and sigh.  Bag gradually lifted by owner onto his 13-year-old lap.  A face like thunder.)

Herzlichen Dank!

13-year-old face like thunder.

A minute later I spot a harrassed mum with her 5-year-old son.

I stand up.

13-year-old with face like thunder moves bag from lap to my seat.

I offer my seat to mum with son.

Harrassed mum with son accepts offer.

Pick your bag up, please!

Mum sits down and sighs with relief.

13-year-old with face like thunder just humphs and rolls his eyes, his sense of entitlement severely breached.  Pech!

Humph once again.  I dare you.  I double-dare you…

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Have a considerate day, won’t you!

 

 

 

Meeting a Fellow Blogger

Today I was in the library.  I got chatting to a young lady who I’d seen last week.  She was writing copious notes on an A4 writing pad.

Is that study notes for your university course starting next week?

No.  Notes for my blog, which I’ve recently started.

Wow, a fellow blogger!  Do bloggers do secret handshakes and codewords?  No.  We just swap stories and tips, many of which I had picked up from Blogging for Dummies and Blogging for Creatives, as well as from my lovely Schatz, who introduced me to blogging all those years ago.

Blogging is good.

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Have a creative day, won’t you!

Interesting Facts about Germany: Teddy on the Road- the History of the Gatso

Useful to know…

THE FLENSBURG FILES

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While travelling along the highway visiting some friends in Leipzig a while back, I had a chance to listen to the German news and the traffic report, where they report accidents, speeding and even broken-down vehicles when I was taken aback from a phone call made to a radio station that, like Leipzig, is located in the same German state of Saxony. With my passenger next to me we were snickering when we heard a typical Saxon living near the Ore Mountains (Erzgebirge) calling in by saying the following:

“Auf der B 175 in Glauchau gibt es einen Teddy auf der Fahrbahn zwischen Jerisau und Gesau.”  (EN: On Highway 175, there is a Teddy on the road between Jerisau and Gesau in the City of Glauchau)

A Teddy? My first reaction to my passenger, who is also from the region but nearer to Stollberg was one for the ages:…

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Ex-Pat Life

As a pad’s brat, I’ve been around the world, and also as an adult.  My first ever “proper” graduate job brought me to Bangkok, Thailand, for three months training back in 1995.

BKK is notorious for many things.  The bars.  Their “live entertainment” is somewhat more interesting than bingo, karoake and stand-up comics.  Watch Spalding Grey’s monologue, Swimming to Cambodia if you want to enjoy an analysis of Thailand, filled with dry, dark humour.

I spent my first Saturday in BKK with Brij, a new Indian colleague.  We were down one of the go-go bars of Soi Cowboy (“Soi” being Thai for “alley”).  Brij was by now getting rather “friendly” with one of the staff.

Ginge in Germany:

Er, Brij, I think that’s a lady boy.  They have a rather large Adam’s apple.

Brij, hand over “barmaid’s” chest:

No, don’t be silly.  She’s got a great pair here.

Ginge in Germany:

Yeah, but I think he’s also got a great pair down below…

Brij, hand sliding down somewhat lower:

Rubbish… she’s definitely a… ermmmm… er…

Now, to Brij I dedicate this fine Bee Gees hit.

Have a ladylike day, won’t you!