Friday, 17 August 2012

My Dander Has Risen.

The blood is pumping again. I've re-found my news Mojo and my dander has arisen... In the words of the late, great Frankie Howerd... Oo'er, Missus. Yep, Olympic silly season is now over and my attention returns to chasing after the lost, the dead, the wrongdoers and the nay saying, lying, shysters of the business and political world.

But first... The unions. Together they stand. Brothers and Sisters united in proletarian angst against the management. Fighting the Bourgeoisie for the rights of the working classes. Normally, they gather in tight groups on street corners, flags fluttering, brazier burning, hatred seething. Picketing the entrance to big business, handing out leaflets to passing cars, singing their slogans on the kerb and breathing in the fumes from a working day in the city of Southampton.

"Oi.. Barry, fancy a drink..? They do a lovely iced latte frappe at the cafe de malmaison..."

But look guys, i have a better idea. This is the south of England. Just down the road there are harbour side cafes, ice cream vendors and bars. Couldn't we all just move about half a mile along the road so you can vent your spleen with a nice iced latte..? That would be nice eh..? We could do the TV news interviews following a nice drink with a Danish pastry under a sun umbrella at the local eaterie, followed by a brie and bacon baguette with sliced tomatoes drizzled in extra virgin olive oil.

In the words of the great working man's icon Homer Simpson... Mmmm, Brie.

I reckon that all the news could be done in this way. Press conferences in the local pub. Police appeals for information at the local diner, that sort of thing. Come on Britain, we can do this. It certainly beats hanging around street corners, basement rooms and Police stations.

So let's get a new, improved union slogan trending. When the massed, helmeted ranks of an oppressive police state stand before you, I will hold my camera aloft to film the news. You will link your arms in brotherly union and chant...

"What do we want..?"

"Fair pay.."

"When do we want it..?"

"After a brie and bacon bap.."

De-camp the angry mob to the nearest eaterie, preferably a french style cafe with street seating and umbrellas called the 'cafe de malmaison' or equivalent derivative. Do that, and i will follow you anywhere you want to go.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.