Reporting live from...

Apparently, I’m entirely stupid and have no ability to imagine a situation, unless it’s shown to me. At least that’s what I assume from watching TV news. It’s possibly true anyway, but I don’t like to think about that kind of thing, so my brain is now showing me an image of two kittens playing together. Ahhhhh. Hee Hee! Sweet!

I like BBC News 24 a lot. Especially the music you get once an hour, with that countdown clock thingy in the corner. Beep! (Ba dum dum) Beep! (Bad um dum) Beep... Well, you get the idea.

Unfortunately, even the BBC has succumbed to the concept that all TV news now has to come live from where whatever it is they’re talking about is happening. Even if nothing is happening. And it often isn’t.

An airport is closed because of snow. You know, I think I might be able to imagine what that might look like.... no planes flying, right? Some snow on the ground. Yup... got it. So why does a reporter need to be outside the front door of the terminal, in the snow, to make me believe it. Or are they lying to me? Perhaps there is no news! They’ve made it all up! That would explain that whole joke thing about that posh chap running the country with that other bloke he doesn't really like.
He does run the country?! Ah. Tricky.

Anyway, I’m pretty comfortable that I, and at least some of my friends (although there are a few I’m worried about) can understand what a court building looks like. You could show us a photo of it, in case you were worried. Or maybe some footage from when it was actually in use, during daylight. Having your reporter stood outside it in the dark at 11pm, to tell me what happened there when it WAS open, isn’t really adding anything to the news story. Unless the reporter is getting particularly wet, in which case I accept that as a partial win.

I’m fully expecting ITV to have a reporter in the world’s darkest coal mine, unlit, just so we can really feel what it might be like if we went somewhere really dark. Like my bedroom at 2am say, or the inner recesses of Rupert Murdoch’s mind. Or maybe my wallet.

Or could it be that it’s simply a way of getting the reporter they really don’t like out of the office for a bit. Go on... the sun was really hot somewhere at 10am this morning – go and stand there in the dark and talk about it. Don’t rush back, eh?

There are obviously genuine, important exceptions. Reporting live from where something IS happening (a football match or a war, for example, although it is easy to get those confused) is a good thing.

Of course, in the modern era, it’s easy for a film crew to transmit from just about anywhere. But just because I can sing Bohemian Rhapsody in its entirety (including the tricky harmony bits) on a Number 17 bus, whilst naked, doesn’t mean I should.

The court case in Tuesday week.

Pay attention TV types. We’re not as stupid as you think. (When I say ‘we’, I meant the others. I’m clearly beyond help.)

This blog post appeared yesterday as an entry in the North West Evening Mail's "Big Blogger" competition. Do me a favour - click on this link to view it on their website, please? Thanks to clicks, I made it through to the main contest and the final 10. One person gets eliminated on Monday... Yoinks.

(There are few things in life finer than the Electric Light Orchestra. And ther are few compilations finer that The Ultimate Collection. That is all.)

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