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Why do we keep buying these rags?

Rupert Murdoch has chucked the News of the World off his fleeing sled as flocks of horror chickens return home to roost on his head… So the first time I bought the News of the World in my entire life was on Sunday, as a souvenir – its last edition. The feebly gasping carcass, covered in fowl poop…
Hmm. Perhaps I\’ll just leave that metaphor to die.
I never buy the Sun either. I don\’t buy the Daily Mail. Occasionally I read somebody else\’s copy to have a laugh at it. The Daily Express… nope. I just don\’t find anything they say at all interesting. I don\’t care what Posh names her unfortunate child. God help me, in my freelance journalism days I wrote features for most of the tabloids, only not the Sun. I wasn\’t skilled enough for the Sun.
I wrote a weekly TV preview column for the London Standard for two years and features for other papers. To be honest, I wasn\’t a very good tabloid journalist: I can write and I\’m congenitally nosey, but I found it very difficult to pretend to be someone\’s best mate, get all their secrets and then shaft them in public in my printed article. On several occasions I happened upon an outstanding story but kept it quiet because it was nothing to do with the public interest and I valued my friendships more than a scoop.
The reason why newspapers flail like starving zombies to get The Story of the day is because they know that\’s what people will pay for.
I wish I had the foggiest notion why.
Jon Stewart can have the last word.


  1. William says:

    Flocks of horror chickens? Cor!
    Apologies, by the way. Got the links.

    1. Patricia says:

      You are forgiven. How could I resist horror chickens? Headless ones? Zombie chicken meltdown fiasco flare-up!

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