The mainstream media's bullshit problem

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

When presenting his popular mid-morning talk show on one of Ireland's independent radio stations, Today FM, Ray D'Arcy would let it be known when an issue truly annoyed him.

'Have you got a problem with my faecal matter?'

'I'm sick of hearing this shit again.' 'This is all fucked up.'

Phrases to that effect. They'd invariably come with a pained silence, a deep sigh. You get the idea.

D'Arcy left that gig in December 2014, moving to an afternoon slot on Radio One at Ireland's state broadcaster, RTÉ. From what I gather, these days he rarely if ever utters expletives on what some describe as a more highbrow channel.

For curse's sake

When D'Arcy used to do it, it made me uncomfortable, even though I enjoyed the show for a time and was on it once. This discomfort wasn't due to the important issue he was discussing, it was because I felt awkward hearing him talk in such a way.

It almost always felt contrived, as in 'I'll use a few "fucks" here so that listeners will get a stronger sense of how I feel.' Maybe he was genuinely that angry and the words just came out. Yet, for such an experienced, skilled broadcaster that's unlikely. He could display his emotions without reverting to swear words. (An Irish politician memorably used the F-word in parliament — and it's obvious that he knew he was going to use 'unparliamentary language', as you can witness here.)

You see, in general, hearing hosts or guests swear on Irish radio is a rarity. Most station bosses would reprimand a presenter for doing so. I'm pretty sure I never did in my presenting days. Nor have I cursed on my podcasts, as far as I can recall anyway. (Yes, I have done so here and in other audio blogs, but they're part of the story! I don't utter expletives on the radio 'just because'.)

'Remember, out of bullshit can grow the greatest of crops.'

In my everyday life, I do fire off unsavoury verbal volleys from time to time but these are on the odd occasions when I'm angry. Sure I've few reasons to be angry in Colombia.

My mild aversion to hearing somebody swear in what I'll call a more formal setting is down to my upbringing, I figure. Do note, I'm not saying this is a superior outlook to those who are more relaxed about using what some call 'agricultural language'. I believe the devil is in the deed, and to some extent the delivery, rather than the words themselves.

With that last point in mind, I wouldn't freak out if a guest on a show I was presenting cursed. And I'd expect listeners to be equally blasé.

Offending Auntie Beeb

So it was with some amusement that I listened to the BBC World Service's Nuala McGovern get a little flustered when an American political analyst said some US voters were 'pissed'. ('Pissed' as in annoyed, he meant, not drunk. Although, some are no doubt regularly the latter.)

I wager the remark went unnoticed by most listeners. Unnoticed until McGovern jumped in to apologise for his use of the word. For those tuning in with a playback facility, some probably rewound the segment to hear the analyst's offensive word.

The episode is a microcosm of a bigger, more pernicious problem with much of the legacy media. Claiming to be the voice of the masses, they then try to portray themselves as totally prim and proper. Holier-than-thou defenders of how they consider an upstanding society should think and operate.

The thing is, many who work in such media are far removed from those who they believe they represent. And their idea of an upstanding society is at best unrealistic and unworkable, at worst a mix of the most alarming aspects of communism and fascism.

Wake up and smell the bullshit

Donald J. Trump's return as president of the USA should force these media monoliths into a bit of introspection. Although, one isn't too optimistic that this will happen considering little seemed to have been learned from the first coming of Trump.

In fact, in the way they currently operate, they are incapable of change. As Albert Einstein put it, 'We can't solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them.'

And the legacy media don't appear to realise that how they conduct themselves is the problem.

One quick fix? Stop trying to be the moral guardians of the masses — as much as they feel this is their calling.

Remember, out of bullshit can grow the greatest of crops.

So rather than the legacy media's often embarrassing efforts of trying to distance themselves from the offensive bullshit, they should embrace it. Take a good look at it rather than turn away in disgust.

That way, they'll be better placed to see what's fertilising the furore of the masses they abhor.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Hooked on the BBC (or CCP, if you will)

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

It's often how it goes. A person overcomes one addiction then another, for better or for worse, comes along to fill the void. (For background, see Coming clean on my Colombian.)

Just can't enough of that good old BBC ...

China in my hand

To be truly accurate — as I always strive to be — my current BBC addiction isn't actually new. I more than dabbled in it in my Ireland days. It's just that it has become particularly acute here in Colombia.

I think I'd find it very hard to live in the country, or Bogotá at least, without it. Be it work or pleasure, this BBC or, for those of another tongue, CCP fix has become a cornerstone of pretty much everything I do.

Now some people would say it's not the worst addiction in the world to have, as long as one doesn't rely on it solely. And I don't. I do balance it out.

Nevertheless, one could always do better when it comes to such things. Indeed, a good test to see how reliant — perhaps harmfully so — one has become on something is to try to do without it. On this score, well just the mere thoughts of doing without the BBC for any protracted period make me uncomfortable (protracted in this sense is in the region of 48 hours).

You see the BBC — Beer, Bread and Coffee, or its Spanish equivalent for where I'm based and following alphabetical order, CCP (Café, Cerveza y Pan), not to be confused with the Chinese Communist Party — is a staple for me.

'Some say it's the only time Colombian bread from a standard panadería is edible, when it's still warm from baking.'

It's the bread and coffee part in particular that I can't see myself easily giving up — if there was a desire to do so, that is. The beer, on the other hand, well unlike the other two, it's not a daily delight.

I also think that in the right circumstances and/or environment i.e. having my own comfortable accommodation and not living in Bogotá, I could relatively easily get by without beer. Or at least drink less. Going without bread and coffee is another thing altogether.

This is the problem — some may not view it as a problem per se — when one uses a panadería/bakery as an office on a daily basis. It's like an alcoholic going to work in a pub.

OK, a good coffee or three a day may, as some studies have shown, do more good than harm to one's overall health. The same can't really be said for the bread on the side, not the majority of bread baked in Colombia in any case. (Dr Pradeep Jamnadas wouldn't be impressed.)

'There are, however, worse addictions to have, such as CNN.'

Yet, the floured fusions are hard to resist, especially so when they've just come hot out of the oven.

In fact, some say it's the only time Colombian bread from a standard panadería is edible, when it's still warm from baking. After a day or so, regardless of the type really, it seems to become fairly bland. (Although, worryingly so as it suggests the bread is pumped with preservatives, it doesn't tend to mould.) Similar to some women I've dated here, it could be said.

'I can't believe it's not coffee!'

Regarding my daily coffee, the quality of it in my current "office" is, as far as I'm concerned, as good as you'll get in some of the more renowned establishments. Snootier types, however, might turn their noses up at it. There's an assumption, based on a long history of this being the case in fairness, that panadería coffee is ordinary at best.

The greca: Wanted for crimes against good coffee. (Image from https://laferiadelagreca.com.)

Thankfully, though, a good number of panaderías have embraced machine brewers, consigning those metal grecas with their tendency to produce tasteless, I-can't-believe-it's-not-coffee coffee to the scrapyard. (Personally, this has become more important over the last few years as my brew preferences have changed. It's no longer an 80/20 coffee/milk split, it's more like 99/1. Thus, the coffee has to be flavoursome and strong.)

As for the beer, well Poker — or on occasions Águila or Costeña or, when in Paisa land, Pilsen (they're all pretty much the same) — could win awards for being one of the best and reasonably priced mediocre lagers around. It humbly does its job.

In this regard, like the BBC media group and the political CCP my BBC — the beer and bread anyway — is of ordinary quality. Perhaps not the greatest but not the worst either.

It's also killing me softly, no doubt. Sure aren't we on the countdown to death from the moment we're born anyway?

There are, however, worse addictions to have.

With CNN — cocaine, noodles and Nutella — for instance, one is left brain-dead within days. That diet combination may seem nonsensical. But that's CNN for you.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

"Dar papaya" — letting the guard down

A common occurrence for immigrants after spending some time in their adopted place is that they begin to feel more comfortable, at ease with their new surroundings. Not a bad thing in most scenarios, that. 

Indeed, it’s what most of us want to happen when we decide to rock up in a location that may be outside our comfort zone in some respects.

It's best to take all necessary precautions on a night out in Bogotá.

However – and this tends to be place-dependent – there are times when you can get to a level of comfort that slips into complacency. This is when things can get dangerous, something we’ve found out to our cost on a number of occasions here in Bogotá. 

Before we look at those incidents, it must be stated that even taking the best precautions out there is not going to guarantee your safety. That’s something that in reality can never be met, anywhere. Yes, some places are worse than others, but nowhere is completely trouble-free.

No matter where you are, though, there are certain things you can do to at least lessen the chances of, what Colombians call, "dando papaya", literally "giving papaya" (think low-hanging fruit). This phrase basically means leaving yourself exposed – not just physically, but mentally too – to be taken advantage of. Letting the guard down so to speak.

Our cautionary, lesson-must-be-learned experiences involve two of the things that we like to do best – socialising and the feeling that we’re getting value for money. 

The two stories we’re going to recount here were, as most of these sorts of incidents tend to be, completely avoidable. But when you can walk away from such events relatively unharmed, you should be all the stronger and wiser for them – that’s the theory anyway.

The first ‘eye-opener’ (or ‘skin-opener’ to be more precise, considering what happened) occurred in the flashy Zona T area of Bogotá – a place we usually feel ill at ease in any case but that’s usually to do with the arrogant types who frequent it, not for feelings of insecurity. 

As you tend to pay ridiculous prices around that part of the city for anything, we took it upon ourselves to purchase a bottle of aguardiente (Colombia’s ‘famed’ spirit) and knock it back in a quiet, dimly lit public park – we were unsure about the legalities of drinking on the street – before meeting another friend in an upmarket (and therefore outlandishly expensive) club.

Nice fruit, but keep it to yourself.

While ‘warming ourselves up’ in this park, three lads walked past us – something our more shrewd German companion apparently noticed, not liking their vibe, but he decided to hold his counsel. 

He should have trusted his instincts; for back came our ‘friends’, replete with knives and intent to harm. 

Two of them managed to pin down our German mate, not before managing to inflict a minor stab wound on our little finger. Seeing red, quite literally, and a little bit unsure as to what was happening, we confronted the third member of the group. 

Within seconds, though, the low-lives fled, once they had taken a little bit of a bounty from our friend – but in relative terms not that much. They took nothing material from us, but they did, of course, manage to split open our finger.

The lesson learned from this? Don’t nonchalantly go drinking in quiet parks at night time in Bogotá. OK, a no-brainer perhaps, but complacency very much set in for us on this occasion.

This brings us to the next ‘what were you thinking (or not as the case may be)’ cautionary tale. The context here is our dislike for taking taxis, especially when we know there’s a cheaper alternative. And with buses running more or less through the night in Bogotá, we generally find this a much more agreeable option to get home. 

Many locals, though, tend not to speak too highly of these late-night/early-morning buses. We’ve never had a problem with them, however – that is when we take them when we’re "with it", or at least close to being so.

This night, however, we don’t even remember getting on the bus to get home – in fact, we’re only guessing that this is what we did, but we can’t be fully sure. It seems, though, the most logical course of events to explain how we ended up in very dodgy territory in the not-very-safe south of the city, miles from where we were meant to be. 

Due to a significant blackout, our memory of events goes from being in a pub in the north of the city with friends and colleagues to lying on the ground in this inhospitable location in the far south with two men standing over us, emptying our pockets. 

Keys to the house, cash, mobile phone, ID – everything material they could take, they duly did. To paraphrase Ann Robinson from the BBC’s Weakest Link, ‘we were left with nothing’.

The exact details of our second 'incident' are a little blurry.

Thankfully, and most importantly, though, no physical injuries were inflicted. Considering how exposed we left ourselves, we were lucky on that front. 

Once we came round, we managed to bum a third of a bus fare from a guy on the street, with the bus driver seemingly taking pity on us, allowing us to board. Needless to say, we couldn't get out of the place quick enough.

As mentioned earlier, when you can walk away from such incidents pretty much in one piece, you have to be grateful. The most important thing is to learn from them and amend your practices accordingly. Not to do so is just plain stupid. 

For if you dar papaya around these parts, there are plenty of people willing to feed off you.
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*For related stories on Colombia's 'dangers' (or not!) see: 'Dangerous' Colombia Part III http://bit.ly/12KWiux and associated posts.

**All the 'team' here at 'Wrong Way' would like to wish all our loyal readers a Happy Christmas/Feliz Navidad! No, we're not using the 'PC' 'Happy Holidays' - here's why http://bit.ly/NNg2E8