The Spirit and the Sky

After yesterday's incident with the Sky engineer, I decided that I needed to do some background reading and research. Forewarned is forearmed.

In the UK there are a number of laws protecting people from harassment including the Protection from Harassment Act 1997, and the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994.

Both because the term is used in common English, and because where the term is defined by law, the law varies by jurisdiction, it is difficult to provide any exact definition that is accepted everywhere.

In some cultures, for instance, simply stating a political opinion can be seen as unwarranted and a deliberate attempt to intimidate — in a totalitarian society any such statement could be interpreted as an attempt to involve someone in rebel activity or implicate them in same, with the implication that if they refuse, they are putting their own life in danger.

More usually, some label such as "anti-social" or related to treason is used to label such behaviour — it being treated as an offense against the state not the person. This resembles the use of psychiatry to imprison dissidents which is common in many countries.

Clearly, from the above, Gill has a case that we can use to build a story. It looks like Sky doesn't have a leg to stand on. I think I might have to use some of my redundancy package in order to keep a lawyer on a retainer. Journalism sometimes skates on thin ice legally.

Meanwhile, the public transport vs atheism story has been snowballing in the blogosphere....check out this view from an atheist, this view from a Christian and this view from a bus driver.

Interesting times.

I am FUMING!

Yesterday I was out doing more research – on the bus, this time. I’ve really got the bit between my teeth with this religion/public transport debate. Anyway, Gill had the day off to go to the doctors (women's problems) so I asked her if she could stay round at my flat. I'd ordered Sky with some of my redundancy package and I needed someone to be there to let the engineers in.

Anyway, things didn’t go so well on the research front. I got thrown off three buses. Twice on the 333 and once on the 419. The 333 goes to Elephant and Castle so I shouldn’t be surprised that the drivers are more aggressive.

I was feeling deflated when I got home. Gill was on the sofa watching Sky. I ran to the box to have a look. I asked her if the installation had gone ok.

“Yeah, it was fine. But one of the engineers was a bit weird,” she said.
“Weird how?” I said.
“Dunno, just a bit sleazy, I suppose.”

I got a funny feeling in my stomach when she said this but I knew from my sales training that the best way to get people to talk is to start with open questions, rather than jumping straight in asking if he’d tried to feel her up.

After an hour’s discussion, she confessed to me that he’d said she had a pretty smile and that he liked her dress.

Sexual Harassment!!!

I couldn’t believe it. Here’s a company like Sky, with a reputation, sending perverts into people’s homes to make suggestive remarks about their girlfriends. Or, even worse, if you look at it from Gill’s point of view, about people themselves!

Poor Gill. She seemed to be in some kind of denial; pretending that it was nothing important.

Half of me was consumed with the protective urge. I wanted to find out who this man was and dish out some punishment. I’m actually a black belt in Judo. It’s one of the purest forms of martial art, although some of the other ones get all the attention these days.

Anyway, the other half of me was thinking: News!!!

What a story? I could just see it all over the front pages of the tabs. Sky would be in disgrace. They’d have to sack the engineer and the head of customer visits or whatever. I might even get a free subscription. Murdoch might have to issue an apology!!

Then I realised a problem. Murdoch owns quite a few newspapers and I don’t want to get myself in trouble with the boss at such an early stage in my career. On the other hand, it’s my duty as a journalist to expose this kind of corporate misbehaviour. What a quandry.

I figured I would write this story under a pseudonym and submit it only to non-Murdoch papers. Then, when it became a huge snowball, I could reveal myself as the investigative reporter par excellence. What an opportunity. And how rewarding to realise that my news sense was already developing so keenly.

I was straight on the phone to Sky.

Unfortunately, I was in a queue for 40 minutes before I took a break to think about the best way to take down such a powerful corporate monster. I went for a walk around the block. One of my neighbours was putting signs on lamp posts beause her dog had gone missing. But I didn’t have time to think about that. It was me against the most powerful media conglomerate in the world.

Journalism is so rewarding! I feel like I’ve completely reinvented myself.

Blue Monday

I was watching Sian and Bill this morning on the BBC and they said that today is officially the most depressing day of the year. It's all to do with the lack of sunlight, the atrocious weather, the anti-climax following the festive season, the fact that your first wage packet has yet to land and the first bills have already arrived coupled with the knowledge that the rest of the year stretches before you like a vast unclimbable mountain of doom.

Although, the 'research' to back this up claim was funded by a travel agent and promoted by a PR agency. So its scientific validity is somewhat dubious.

Still, I really do think today could be the most depressing of the year. I went down to the station to pick up a copy of Metro. I ran (well, walked quickly at least) all the way home IN THE RAIN, made myself a cup of tea and scanned the rag from cover to cover looking for my research article.

Research, I might add, that was funded by genuine editorial curiosity and not by a travel firm trying to encourage people to book environment damaging flights!!!!!!!

It was nowhere to be seem. Last week's news of the Christian bus driver refusing to do his job because the adverts carried by his bus ran contrary to his opinions was a weighty issue, making headlines on the nationals. My research helped paint a fuller picture of the nation's wavering feelings of apathy towards religion. This week that story has been consigned to the dustbin of history.

Maybe I should have been a little bit more targeted in my approach, maybe I should have bought myself a travel card and rode the buses asking passengers and drivers alike.

Today's news really is tomorrow's chip paper. It is an invaluable lesson for any would-be Citizen Journalist.

Redundancy

Today, after yesterday's decision to take the plunge into the world of journalism, I went into the world seeking inspiration.

I left my flat and turned right onto my road. I'd dressed appropriately, not just for the time of the year, but also for my chosen career path. This is the sort of thing I would have worn on a dress down Friday. Although, coincidentally, it was Friday anyway. But this would be my new apparel irrespective of the weekday in question. Unless I had an important meeting.

Smart casual, with serious leanings toward the latter. Converse sneakers, faded jeans, a plaid lemon shirt, underneath the grey jumper my Mum gave me for Christmas. She's always had such excellent taste.

I went into Specsavers and spent £300 of my redundancy package on clear glass spectacles with thick black frames.

Already feeling good I went into WH Smith and bought a new pen and 'reporters' pad - 100% recycled paper, made from post-consumer waste.

I looked the part.

All needed now was news.

I sat on a bench outside what was Woolworths on the high street. Not much happened for an hour or so, a woman sat next to me for ten minutes until her bus arrived. She was youngish, wearing a work uniform. Observation is key in journalism.

Some time after, a man arrived and started unlocking the metal mesh protective window protector of Woolworths. He would not be drawn on the issues that surround the collapse of the high street store.

The weather was inclement, although not any worse than it was yesterday.

For lunch I had McDonalds. I found a copy of Metro and read it from cover to cover seeking inspiration and stumbled across a story about a bus driver who refused to drive his bus because it carried an atheist slogan.

It got me thinking. Would God be angry that the bus driver had failed to turn the other cheek? Would God be angry with himself, or herself, for failing to turn the other cheek?

Religion is a contentious issue. Perfect for Citizan Journalists.

I thought this would make an interesting article for the readers of the Metro. So I carried out a poll on the highstreet. I simply asked the two questions I had posed myself earlier: Would God be angry that the bus driver had failed to turn the other cheek? Would God be angry with himself, or herself, for failing to turn the other cheek?

I asked 30 people. 4 people completely ignored me, 1 person was verbally abusive, 12 people said they didn't know, 2 people said yes and 11 said probably not.

I sent my findings to the editor at mail@ukmetro.co.uk.

I had spent about two hours on the project (10 minutes background reading, 10 minutes considering the issues, 1 hour 30 mins collecting data and 10 minutes writing up the findings). I thought I would bill for the UK minimum wage allowance of £5.73 per hour. This seemed fair considering my inexperience.

I await a response.