Skip to main content

Just......ugh

As the press over here wails and gnashes its teeth and the corridors of power resound to the sound of hand-wringing, I thought it might be a salutary time to give you a couple examples of journalism from over the water.

Now, you may or may not be aware of the Steubenville rape case. Basic facts are as follows: girl is blind drunk at party and therefore incapable of giving consent. Girl is raped and sexually humiliated by two local high school football stars. Said rapists are subsequently found guilty. There is the normal wailing from some quarters that convicting rapists is somehow unfair, she was "asking for it", all the usual bile and filth. Some choice examples here. The case gains an added piquancy from the whole fractured small-town narrative, is seasoned liberally with issues of athlete-worship, and given a shot of social media tequila just to crank the whole thing up a notch or three.

So far, so depressing. Though I confess to some pleasant surprise at a guilty verdict being returned.

Now, you'd imagine that in a proven case of rape, the coverage of the perpertrators would be damning, and that of the victim sympathetic, wouldn't you? You would, as it turns out, be wrong. CNN has found itself at the centre of a shitstorm entirely of its own making after anchor Candy Crowley and reporter Poppy Harlow talked of how difficult it was to watch the (guilty as sin) defendants breaking into tears, about how talented they were.

Ahem.

Still, at least certain journalistic standards were being maintained, I mean, you don't publish the name of an abuse victim, do you? I mean you get banged up for that over here, it's the sort of thing that idiots on Twitter do, not, y'know, broadcasters.

Unless they happen to be Fox News.

Words fail me.

Popular posts from this blog

A whole new world.

I appear to have moved into the pub. Now, I don't wish to give the impression that this has come as a complete surprise to me, we'be been planning to do so since shortly after I bought it, but still, it's sort of snuck up on me and now I'm waking up and thinking what happened? How come I'm here? The reason for this discombobulation is that this move was initially a temporary measure. Mrs Coastalblog had some relatives coming to stay, and it made sense to put them up in our house while we decamped to the flat. It's still a work in progress, but a mad week of cleaning and carting stuff around made it habitable. I had a suspicion that once we were in we'd be back and forth for a few weeks. As with many of my hunches, I was completely and utterly wrong. As it turned out, once we were here, we were here. Things moved at pace and, now our kitchen appliances have been installed, there's no going back, the old house is unusable. It's left me with slightly mi

Mad Dogs and Immigration Ministers

It is with no small degree of distress that I'm afraid to say I've been thinking about Robert Jenrick. I know, I know, in this beautiful world with its myriad of wonders, thetre are many other things about which I could think, the play of sunlight upon dappled water, the laughter of my children, the song thrush calling from the sycamore tree a few yards away from where I type this. Yet the shiny, faintly porcine features of the Minister for Immigration keep bubbling up into my consciousness. It's a pain in the arse, I tell you. A few years ago on here I wrote a piece entitled The cruelty is the point in which I argued that some policies are cruelty simply for the sake of it, pour decourager les autres . I was reminded of that recently when I listened to Jenrick defending his unpleasant, petty decision to order murals at a migrant children's centre to be painted over. You've probably heard the story already; deeming pictures of cartoon characters "too welcoming&

20

Huh. It turns out that this blog is, as of, well, roughly about now-ish, 20 years old. 20. I've been doing this (very intermittently) for twenty bloody years. And, I cannot help but note, still am, for some reason. I've done posts in the past, when this whole thing was comparatively blemish free and dewy-skinned looking back on its history and how it's changed down the years, there's not really a lot of point in doing that again. It's reflected what concerns me at the time, is, I think, the most charitable way of phrasing it (a  polite way of saying that it's been self-absorbed and solipsistic, but then, it's a blog, this should not come as a shock), it's interesting for me to look back over the lists of posts, but not so much for you, I imagine. Likewise, pondering how I've changed in the intervening years is also fairly pointless. It's painfully obvious that I was a very different person at 25 to 45, my experience of jobs and kids and marriage