From The British Press: An Open Letter To Julian Assange.

OK Julian, we've had enough of standing around doorways waiting for you to appear. Street corners can be cold and miserable places to be, especially in the rain. So please do us all a big favour and make your escape plan... Now.

Being basically locked up in the Ecuadorian Embassy has got to be getting a tad tiresome now, for you and for the press so i have hatched, during my lunch break, an in depth daring escape plan for your perusal. This is for your benefit to...

A: Escape.

B: Give us press types something to speculate on, whilst waiting outside.

I have written a book on this very subject...

 I have come up with / shamelessly ripped off movie plots, to aid in your escape from the clutches of William Hague and the British Government, the Swedish Government and a good old waterboarding session from the CIA.

Escape plan 1: Build a glider entirely from toilet rolls in the loft space.

Escape plan 2: Using a spoon, dig a tunnel to the underground, whilst cleverly hiding the soil in the pot plants and window boxes of the embassy.

Escape plan 3: Build a jet pack, James Bond stylee. This would enhance your international man of mystery persona and give us outside something totally newsworthy to film. ( I would really... REALLY, like to see this )

Escape plan 4: Burst out of the front doors on a scrambler motorbike and head for the wire at the border. Except that the border will be quite watery. ( I Haven't thought that one through yet...)

Escape plan 5: Disguise yourself as an Ecuadorian wind flute player, with blanket and large hat / moustache, and walk shamelessly out of the door. Or is that Peruvian..? Dunno...

The above is a five point plan of escape for you to ponder over the next few days. I came up with them in the space of five whole minutes, so i'm sure you and the embassador can come up with a few more over the coming days.

But please Julian, i beg you, give us press types something to film / photograph / write about / speculate on. We've got nothing out here....

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk 

A Slow News Day...

I have noticed over the last few days that real news, you remember, stuff that happens outside of the Olympic games in the real world, have tapered off somewhat. So what a relief it was that i came accross this story from the BBC Website...

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-19162620

So it would appear that the PC's from the Met are not so PC with PC'S from Wales. So i did a little investigating of my own to get to the very bottom of the matter...

Following BBC reports that a full scale internal Police inquiry by the Directorate of Professional Standards of the Metropolitan Police is to be launched into what has now come to be known as 'Stickergate', I have contacted a source from the Dyfed Powys Police.

Inspector Bronwyn Jones told me,

"The Met boyos have not only placed stickers on our vans, but have also placed plastic penis extensions over female PC's truncheons, filled unattended police boots with jelly and gaffer taped false rubber tits onto our helmets, it's just not on you know." **

Efforts to contact the Metropolitan Police by me in regards to this matter proved unsuccessful. On hearing these unsubstantiated allegations of Met Police Officers interference with Welsh Police property, gales of laughter could clearly be heard over the line.

Metropolitan Police investigations are ongoing.

** May contain traces of lies.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter

www.media-attention.co.uk

From The Horses Mouth: Raisa, The Chipping Norton Set, And Me..

In the bright lights of London, much has been said and written about the Leveson Enquiry. Phone hacking, illegal payments to the Police, borrowed horses and dodgy journalism.

But it's not often that a local, provincial TV News Cameraman gets the scoop instead of the reporter. Having been dispatched to the wilds of the Surrey countryside yesterday, i found myself in the company of a few old nags in an RSPCA horse rescue centre. Whilst covering an entirely unrelated story, i was approached by one particularly friendly horse i shall call 'Thunder', (Not her real name.) who told me a story about corruption, hacking, politicians and a global media empire.

PSST...! Are you from the news...? I've got a cracker of a story.

Now let's not think about the fact that i just met a talking horse, (*1) and the fact that it was up to date on the phone hacking story and the Leveson Enquiry. Those facts are mere sideshows. For it emerged in conversation that Thunder had in her possession a number of documents and diary entries from a close friend of hers called Raisa, a retired Metropolitan Police horse, whom she met and befriended at numerous grooming sessions on country estates.

Spilling the beans... An interview with 'Thunder'.

 The documents were entrusted to Thunder by Raisa, on the understanding that what they contained could be explosive if brought into the public eye, and could never be released, unless something dubious happened to her, or if she were to just... disappear. On hearing the sad news of Raisa's death, Thunder has decided to release the documents, and has entrusted them to me for safe keeping.(*2)

For the sake of public interest, i have decided to publish a narrow selection of Raisa's diary entries, in the hope of clearing up a little of the confusion surrounding the time she spent in Chipping Norton following her retirement from the Metropolitan Police Mounted Division. Here are my findings thus far...

7 Jan 2008 London.

Looking forward to my retirement party next week. Going to have balloons and everything. Must dash... Chelsea are at home, heads to crack... Busy busy busy..!! 

14 Jan 2008 London.

Woke with a thick head this morning. Party was ace. Pete, my Police stable boy, tells me i'm off to Oxfordshire. Apparently the Chief Super has done a deal with an old mate of his. He tells me there will be plenty of hacking... We shall see.

15 Jan 2008 Chipping Norton.

Wow..! Really landed on my feet here. Dead posh. Plenty of scope for a good hack with my new owner Rebekah and her chums. Her husband Charlie called me an old knacker. ( I don't like him. ) Saw some old bloke called Clarkson on a quad bike in the next field shooting foxes... a bit mad i think.

28 Feb 2008 Chipping Norton.

Some posh bloke called Dave arrived this morning. Him and Rebekah spoke all morning about hacking but they never took me out. He said he wanted none of it... Went to bed... No dinner.

(P.S. Rebekah was on the phone all night to a man called Rupert. She said Dave was impotent... I think she meant important. )


30 March 2008 Chipping Norton.


My coat is becoming matted. Don't get groomed often any more. Missing the thrill of London and shitting on the streets. The days of cracking heads with the boys are long gone.


20 April 2008 Chipping Norton.


Finally..! Dave visits again and Charlie takes us out for a hack. Dave climbs aboard and off we go. I think i shall call him BIG Dave from now on... if you know what i mean..! They chatted for hours about Eton and the old days. Much laughter and sniggering about poor people and a bloke called George.


( P.S. WENT TO BED AGAIN WITH NO DINNER...! )

They say that the truth is stranger than fiction... This is pure fiction.

Having read(*3) the rest of the diaries, i can indeed attest to the explosiveness of their contents. I may reveal more from time to time. Should the Leveson enquiry call me for evidence, i shall of course fail to remember any such meeting with 'Thunder' and the whereabouts of the Diary, and this blog post will be deleted, to be found again by the officers of Operation Weeting. I will probably end up in prison, and my press card revoked.
 
(*1) I am making this whole thing up.

(*2) For Sale to the highest bidder.

(*3) Wrote

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk
 

Countdown for a Countess.

So it's the middle of winter, and i find myself in a cold car park, gently shivering, waiting for a minor member of the British Royal Family to open a new medical center on the outskirts of Bracknell, Berkshire. Now i'm not moaning, this is quite a normal part of the working news cameraman's day. The waiting in the cold part, that is, without any lunch. We wait in the cold a lot.

But i wasn't alone, the great and the good of the local parish had arrived in force and patiently shivered alongside me. Local Mayors, distinguished guests, Senior Medical staff and associated bean counters were all given the once over by the Royal protection officers of Her Majesties Constabulary, who glanced a beady eye over the serfs as frost gathered on our eyebrows. I thought about taking a picture of them but thought better of it, preferring not to have a 9mm automatic pistol inserted up my left nostril.

The Bracknell Entry for Britain's Got Talent.

 
The meet and greet was inside though, and having gratefully moved into the warm, i started to drip nose fluid as the others practiced how to bow, tug forelocks, and smile like a loon. I knew Royalty was close when the sturdy men with armpit bulges started talking into their sleeves and double checking the dripping, sniffing cameraman with suspicion. I knew that they would rather the press were not there. Dodgy looking blokes with shifty eyes and a knack for getting in the way are not a close protection officers favourite, so i flashed a winning smile, and hefted my camera onto my shoulder, ignoring the rumble from my stomach as hunger kicked in.

Now, whatever your view of the Royal Family, there is no doubt in my mind about the work that they do. Yes, they are privileged, rich and feted the world over, but on a day like today i saw Sophie, The Countess Of Wessex, arrive at her third local visit of the day. She must have shook hands with hundreds of people, made small talk, smiled constantly and pulled the cord on a great many opening curtains. Oh... and been followed, filmed and snapped at all of them by guys like me. Living life in a fish bowl doesn't come close to describing it.

Sophie, The Countess Of Wessex, with patriotic clutch bag containing hairbrush, lippy, picture of the hubby and possibly a Walther PPK.

 
So, as she lives her life in a fish bowl, i trained my lens on the Countess and followed her around, just to make her feel at home you understand. I filmed the shaking of hands, the small talk and the pulling of the cord on the opening curtain. Sophie... for we were on first name terms by now, wafted serenely around the new facility like she had done it a hundred times before. Which she has. And when it was time for her to leave, the great and the good waved and cheered her goodbye as i, ever the professional, piled into the sandwiches, sausage rolls, cake and cups of tea, before the plague of locusts descended, leaving bugger all for the working man.

So i tip my hat to you, your Royalness, for another job well done and for providing a very hungry cameraman with a free lunch.  

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk

The Thin Blue Lie...?

I have posted many times on this blog about my encounters with the Police, Police officers from various counties and of varied rank. I have met them in all kinds of situations from calm press conferences, crime scenes, through to public order situations and riots.

As a member of the media i am met with various degrees of welcome, tea and biscuits with a chief inspector to outright hostility from other ranks. It doesn't matter to me, for i have the sword of truth from my camera and the shield of my ACPO recognised Press Card. Or do I....?

I recently read an article by the Photojournalist Marc Vallee, who attended a demonstration in Brighton, West Sussex. In it, he describes how a member of the public had a video tape seized by a Police officer under section 19 of the Police And Criminal Evidence Act 1984, (PACE) and the comments section show a lively debate on that seizure, including comments from the owner of the tape and the Sussex Police Media team response.

Unfortunately, this is the latest, but not an isolated incident. The merits of the above described incident i leave to your own conclusions after reading it, but it would seem that on more and more occasions, the Police seem to make the law up as they go in order to achieve their aims at a specific moment. Evidence of this is spread far and wide on the web. I forget the amount of times i have been told to stop filming or move away by Police officers for various reasons, including, but not limited to....

"Don't film me mate ... i sometimes work undercover." This is the favourite one at the moment, Police officer in uniform, wearing day-glo jacket with Police written on the back, tells journalist that he works undercover.... Nice move.

Legislation and law can be viewed from many differing angles, from the copper on the street making a split second decision, to the working journo, to the activist filming at a demo. Each one will have a slightly differing view on the law as it stands. But my gripe is this... if you are a Police officer, i TRUST you to know what you are talking about. Here is a point... i remember asking a Police Constable if he could tell me section 1 of the Theft Act 1968. Basic bread and butter Policing. He couldn't. The difference between a 9(1)(a) and a 9(1)(b) Burglary?.... Nope, not that either.

My Point? well, before a Constable throws his or her weight around demanding this or that from the press or members of the public taking pictures in a public place, quoting sections under anti terror laws, or PACE etc, the very least they could do is get it right. First time ... Every time. Or don't do it at all until you know what you are doing, because from where i stand, the basics are not even being covered in the knowledge base of your average Police constable. And this needs to change.

Why?

Because when I, a freelance TV Cameraman goes to work, I know what i can and can't do under the law. Where i can go, who i can and cannot film under certain circumstances. I know my job. Inside out. And if i don't know, i find out and learn it. Failing that, ten years service in the Royal Military Police gave me a very good grounding in Policing, and the law on what coppers can and cannot do, including the very basics. I have since kept that knowledge and furthered it in my present line of work. Basic coppering skills never leave you if you learn them correctly. Yes, after nearly fifteen years out of service i can still quote section 1 of the Theft Act 1968 because i learned that by knowing it, really knowing it, i would never be caught out.

So if you see me out and about, please remember this...I know my job, but i also, to a large extent, know yours.... So please get it right.

Paul Martin. http://www.media-attention.co.uk

Police v Press. Well I Never ....

Today was a good day. It started out as any other filming job, at Portslade near Brighton, where the Police were searching and digging up some poor persons garden looking for evidence of possible bodies having been buried there.

Then something quite unexpected happened, the Police invited us into the dig site to film them going about their work. That's right, you did just read that correctly. I should point out that it was not a crime scene as such, more a speculative dig to see if more investigation was required. However the press officers from West Sussex Police engaged with the press, listened to what we wanted and the results for us were great pictures and information to tell our viewers what was happening.

The scene .....

It was a bit of a shocker I can tell you, but a bit of common sense and a desire to engage with the press, resulted in an important, sensitive story being told accurately and with the minimum off fuss from both press and Police.

No speculation, no searching for pictures or getting in peoples way. The information was swift, and interviews were arranged with a senior officer who was also in attendance throughout the day. I know that it can't be this way all of the time, time and resources just sometimes don't allow it, but today was a day that common sense and good press relations came together, everyone did their jobs, and an accurate story was told.

The press officer ....

So for once, I doff my cap to the Police and the West Sussex press team, who made the day just that much more pleasant in the face of what could turn out to be a very unpleasant story.

Paul Martin.
www.media-attention.co.uk

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