I can’t help feeling smug now that the dreaded News of the Screws has gone to the wall, but I also can’t dismiss the niggling feeling that Citizen Kane can see the writing on the wall for newsprint and the BSkyB issue is what it’s all about. No other country in the world would allow its media to be controlled by a foreign national and I am sure that this story is far from over as the Americans start to take a closer look at the man and his empire. But, back to the NoW, keep your eyes open and don’t be sucked in by crocodile tears; it’s the soldiers who are paying the price, not the generals. As a writer, I feel some kin with them because I know it takes skill to write for a particular audience. Maybe some of them dream of writing the great twenty-first century novel but are forced to write drivel to pay the mortgage. I guess they can still carry on doing that for the Sun but some will see this as an opportunity to do something worthwhile.
I retire in three weeks and it’s strange how that event looming on the horizon is washing the stress from my life. At work, no one listens to me any more when I’m being critical; they treat me rather condescendingly – he’s leaving soon, just ignore him.
Now, that is actually nice to know.
It’s good to know that the job you took so seriously for all those years isn’t so important at all and that when you’re gone, they will soon forget you were ever there. I think that people will soon forget about the News of the World as well and so should the writers. Write something good, people; something you can be proud of. Go on…do it. You know you can.
Incidentally, for those following the progress of Puggie, he’s fine, his duff eye has gone down and he’s stopped hissing at Luis. He’s crying for his mum though, which is a little distressing because he can’t go back to her if he wants to have a life away from the rubbish tip. Our dogs are fascinated by him and one of them, Hayley, has expressed a wish that he should be served up between thick slices of bread with a little hollandaise sauce. Maybe tomorrow.