Pottering about in the Guardian
First a few words of reassurance. My appearances elsewhere in cyberspace do not mean that Salut!'s days are numbered, or not yet at any rate. Especially since I now see that my advertising earnings have crept up to an average of 17 cents a day.
But regulars around these parts may be interested to learn that I have found one or two other journalistic outlets to satisfy myself that, all that "garden leave" now over, there is indeed life beyond the Telegraph.
The First Post, a newsy site which already appears to be a home for other former colleagues, has already run a few articles.
There have been two or three on the presidential elections, naturally, but also one apiece on the French smoking ban and a couple of villas that Saddam Hussein's regime bought in the south of France with money that, arguably, could have been better spent in Iraq.
As of tonight, I am also a contributor to CommentIsFree, a talkative and animated corner of the Guardian's website. Ségolène's continuing struggles preoccupied me today, but my hope is to broaden the range of topics much as I try to do here. That link now seems to work.
At my leaving party - sorry, one of my leaving parties, this one in the Cheshire Cheese pub off Fleet Street - I began by condemning my former employers for their cruel and vindictive decision to give me more time to spend with Sunderland football club.
Those with my best interests at heart will be relieved to hear that I have found something more thoughtful than Salut!'s football offshoot to help occupy my time.
Labels: Daily Telegraph, elections, football, France, Guardian, journalism, Saddam Hussein, Salut Sunderland, Ségolène Royal, The First post
By Colin Randall @ Friday, February 16, 2007 ¦
21 Comments:
Are you sure? Your link to Comment is Free doesn't seem to be working and when I found my way there independently, there was no sign of you, thoughtful or otherwise.
Meanwhile, how can you expect your ad revenue to reach a reasonable level when you're still offering Le Pen and the chance to buy Deanna Durbin on DVD? Nor am I particularly attracted by the chance to meet Italian singles or buy Austrian groceries.
This is your missing link, Mr.Taylor
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/colin_randall/2007/02/a_right_royal_mess.html
And I hope it works...otherwise go to the main Guardian site (the link takes you there now) and opt for Comment. Then you are on your own...
I found it finally, more thanks to guardianreader than your goodself. Can't say I was terribly impressed by the quality of most of the comments. You need a few Richard of Orleanses over there.
Colin, well I'm happy that you're off and working again. I had the suspicious feeling that you were no longer a Telegraph man at heart and closer to the Guardian.
Of course my consideration for the Guardian is less than for the Telegraph.
I'll try a comment, but if it's the Telgraph censorship all over again, I won't persist.
This comment has been removed by the author.
I could never resist a challenge, Bill...
Bards of Passion and of Blog (with apologies to John Keats)
Bards of passion and of blog,
You have left my brain in fog,
Squabbling as you’re wont to do
Each believing he is true.
Why not try to compromise?
See the world through others’ eyes?
Seems that it’s too much to handle -
Tough for poor old Colin Randall!
Richard either makes a plea
Or leans towards Anglophobie,
And while his fist is raised in clench -
He never seems to rant in French…
And as for Bill – well, he can snap,
He sometimes has to take the rap…
But clichés are his cup of tea
So if he’s framed – he’s quite ha – ppy.
Colin Berry – there’s a one
Doesn’t really like the fun…
Takes it to heart and that’s just weird –
No wonder he has disappeared!
Anne Gilbert comments when she can
But is she a woman or a man?
Although she has a history,
She’s really quite a mystery.
Colin dear, if I were you
I’d tell this lot just what to do…
If they try to hog or scoff
Then tell ‘em they can just BLOG OFF!
Phew. Got that off my chest :-)
Je n’ai absolument pas besoin de ranter en français. C’est une langue dans laquelle on peut très bien s’exprimer avec précision et se faire comprendre sans être obliger d’exagérer. Les mots ont un sens clair qui n’est pas déformé en permanence par le spin et les publicités mensongères De toute façon la plupart des français sont parfaitement d’accord avec moi au sujet des limitations des épiciers anglais, qui sont pardessus tout perfides. Et les compromis, n’en parlons pas. C’est impossible avec un rosbif qui n’a aucun sens du fair-play.
Donc quel intérêt aurais je de ranter* en français. Bravo pour le poème.
Phew je me sens mieux maintenant que je n'ai plus ça sur le coeur.
* j’ai même le sentiment qu’il n’y a pas de mot équivalent en français. Tout au moins je n’ai jamais eu besoin de l’utiliser.
ranter = vider son sac, peut-être?
Anyway, it was just artistic licence, Richard. I needed a rhyme...:-)
And very moving it was, Gigi. I'm not sure if my leg will ever dry! But... cliches??!!
Bill - surely you know that a cliché in French means 'photo'? It was a very very very bad pun - and I do humbly apologise :-)
No, the apology is mine -- for my very very very bad French. I love puns. But -- outside of a restaurant, anyway -- I'm somewhat unilingual.
In fact, the poem is riddled with puns - I do hope you get them all otherwise my evening has been wasted.
I think I got most of them -- hence my own crack about my leg never drying (the old saying about p***ing yourself laughing). And henceforth I shall certainly remember cliché.
I'm always better with a good dinner inside of me and, having just come in from my second-favourite Toronto bistro, it occurs to me that what Gigi has been doing, if she will (or won't) forgive the pun, has been having a blog blague.
Well it's not exactly pottering is it? After 12 hours on the Guardian coconut shy, how do you feel? The most appalling and degrading experience imaginable. Let's pass on the photo taken with the same mobile phone that saw Saddam swung.There you are, to be shot at, until the revenue stream is judged inadequate by the bean counter in chief and you are flushed down the toilet.
That's the Manchester Guardian that does that, not some rabid slave owner in the American South.
Take my advice Colin, quit England. With that sort of treatment you will soon be another one of these faceless crushed cornflakes, shipped up on our shore, devoid of wit and wisdom. Learn to grow biological lavender down in Lavendou, money isn't everything.
My post on the blog of Colin's Guardian competor Ros Taylor.
"Look again at the proposed minimum wage: �1,500. That's per month, of course, because France's 35-hour week means that overtime is discouraged or unofficial. That's why France doesn't have a per-hour minimum wage like Britain's, and it means that there's no point in putting in any extra hours unless you want to impress your boss."
If you care to tap 'SMIC'(Salaire minimum de croissance) into your google search engine.You'll get the following response:
'Smic horaire brut en euros' hourly minimum wage in euros. 8.27. Which happens to be the current minimum hourly wage in France.
How can the Guardian print this uninformed, unresearched claptrap?
It's nasty, vicious, mean, biased and false claptrap. Let's have nothing to do with these people.
Colin, alas, is faced with the daily responsibility of putting bread on the table and thus is robbed of the luxury of choice. There have always been uncomfortable parallels between freelance journalism and prostitution; you do it for whoever will pay you and they get to choose the position.
There seems to be a lot of employment around these days where the respect for the employees is not very impressive. I think the US and the UK are the leaders in that regard. They got experience in Dickensian London and on the slave plantations.
In today's world, with rampant ageism you need to have enough cash tucked away by your early fifties in order to avoid some unhappy years et the end of your career. Either that or be a government bureaucrat.
Bill Taylor: Do you speak, I take it, from experience? You rob us of our illusions.
Bitter experience in London, New York, Sydney and Toronto. Been there, done that, got the bite marks.
Meanwhile, Colin's ads get weirder. I clicked (17 cents in our founder's pocket being 17 cents) on "The Guardian: The Guardian Savings! Smart Guardian Shoppers Start Here" and found The Guardian at Amazon. com (with free Super Saver shipping); Guardian Disabiliy Insurance (receive a detaied own-occupation quote); Guardian Millions of Products from Thousands of Stores All in One Place; and Guardian Shop eBay. And here I was, thinking it was the Guardian newspaper, taking advantage of Colin's new blog there. Or maybe it is.
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