Not about Mister Usmanov

Didn’t I say Alisher Usmanov seems to be a jolly good fellow?

This post is not primarily about Mr Usmanov, though, but about a happy few who would enjoy his generosity.

It’s a post about journalism.

To get prepared for the following I do - with compliments to Bloggerheads, Chicken Yoghurt, Matt Wardman and all those who are doing a great job on this very issue - ask you to read this first.

. . .

Back? And? Water on the mills of your opinion/prejudices?

Well, so let’s go on.

I think it was Robert Edwards, the “father” of Louise Brown, the first test-tube baby, who somewhen in the 90th of the past milennium basically said, though in another context: Ethic has to adapt to the progress of science.

Following this kind of logic, journalist’s have to adapt to the progress of corruption.

Too harsh?

Let me try to explain.

In these times journalists who would courteously insist on paying for even their cup of tea when being (jovially) invited by their interview partner, are being regarded as antediluvian fossils.

Are these fossils pedantic?

Is pedantic who declares a journalist should not be member of any party; in these times when very frequently the membership book in many countries would “decide” who climbs the ladder, and who not?

Once I have been "taught": Journalist’s are whores.

Are they? No. Not “they”. But: Yes, many are.

Others are disillusioned; partly, because they “accepted” what - beginning about 20 years ago - they are being told: Your articles are nothing but “garnishing the ads”; partly because they were "taught" how to use the scissors in their head.

So, why not choose the easy way? Taking the released statement by firm X or ministry Y, and that's it. Or, in case some tiny little scruples managed to survive, changing a subject here, and a predicate there.

And the loveliest are those whose autobiography could start with following sentence: Three months ago I shouldn't know how to write "shornalist", and today I do already happen to be one.

[Those feeling insulted, are those who are meant]

So, what is to say about the journalists who followed the invitation of Mr Usmanov; and what about their newspapers, their TV-station?

PS: And as for Financial Times: You paid all bills? Congratulations. Reading the article, even the last reader could learn: You know how to burn money.

Let's have a liberating laughter

There has been "Journalist's Day" in ... in ... yes! Exactly! In Iran.
Big parties, of course, in Tehran, Isfahan and Ghom.

Thus, before going on, please celebrate reading more details here.

Back? Fine!

Yes, neither you nor Tetrapilotomos need to tell me that sarcasm has seldom helped solving a problem. For some people, though, irony and sarcasm (not cynism!!) is the shelter to which they flee when feeling close to getting overwhelmed by their sadness, their wrath, their helplessness. Irony, sarcasm for distracting purposes.

Bearing ironic or sarcastical thoughts in the maternity room of one's brain could, by the way, be a nice and most entertaining alternative (that moreover mostly would not produce long-term consquences) whenever feeling there is nothing else to do.

And now back to "Journalist's Day" in Iran.
The scissors in one's head may cut the road on which thoughts are travelling from the brain into the feather. But it would not be able to reach the realm of thinking. The thoughts remain free.

That is why - with a cheerful thanks to Colin at Adelaide's Green Porridge Cafe - I dedicate the following joke first of all to all journalists in Iran, but also to anybody living elsewhere and feeling/being persecuted, harrassed and incarcerated.

Now might a joke about a President absolutely down under be not half as lovely when being told let's say in North Korea, Saudi Arabia, Libya, Syria, England, France, Germany, China, Russia or the U.S. of A., only to give some examples.
But look above. Thoughts are free! Just choose your favourite protagonist, and enjoy at least some seconds of liberating laughter.


Prime Minister John Howard was visiting a primary school and he visited one of the classes. They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings.

The teacher asked the Prime Minister if he would like to lead the discussion on the word "tragedy". So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a "tragedy".

One little boy stood up and offered: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a 'tragedy'".

No," said Howard, "that would be an accident".

A little girl raised her hand: "If a school bus carrying fifty children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy."

"I'm afraid not," explained the Prime Minister "That's what we would call a great loss."

The room went silent. No other children volunteered.

John searched the room. "Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of tragedy?"

Finally, at the back of the room, a small boy raised his hand...In a quiet voice he said: "If the aeroplane carrying you and Mrs Howard was struck by a "friendly fire" missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.

Fantastic!" exclaimed John Howard. "That's right. And can you tell me why that would be a tragedy?"

Well," says the boy "It has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be a bloody accident either.

Cave Cihan, Mr. Erdoğan!

Forget about what I have been posting yesterday.
Of course, Tayyip Erdoğan is the winner of election in Turkey.

Congratulations, Mr. Erdoğan.

I, me and myself do not have any doubt of your integrity.
My closest friend, though - a writer who would not write for reasons I shall probably never understand - just murmured: "He should not forget forget the mission of July 30th, 2003."

"Well", I said when watching the first photo he showed me from his REUTERS-archive, "not everybody on this planet is a horseman."

"For sure", Tetrapilotomos smiled, "and the photos , OF COURSE, would not have been published in Zaman."
"But why?" I asked. "It's not a shame to get in trouble with a horse."

"Hm, Turkish journalists know pretty well to use the scissors in their mind (brain)."

"Actually, Tetrapilotomos, I think some Turkish journalists are very brave. Much more brave, indeed, than I'd be."

"Well, Sean, it's not because of the horse alone. It's because of the horse's name."

"C'mon, Tetrapilotomos, what was or is the horse's name?!"

"Cihan."

"Sounds nice."

"Indeed, it does. But would you like to be unhorsed by the 'World'?"

Turkey in a Nutshell

These are interesting times for the Turkish people. And, no doubt, the times will get not less interesting after today's election.

For those not familiar to Turkish politics, and those who are and therefore would not know how to put into a nutshell what Turkish politics is about, I recommend reading the following masterpieces by Mustafa Akyol and Burak Bekdil in chronological order:
Akyol's artwork published July 12th, Bekdil's reply (July 18th), and Akyol's "sequel" (July 21st).

And - as it's election day - in my next post I shall let you know who my closest friend and I'd vote to become winner of the Flann O'Brian Prize.
Yes, I could right now, but I do not wish to get accused of manipulating my readers' opinion making. :)