Breaking The News

Hello readers (any that are left after the explosion caused by my last column). I received an alert on my phone. 

BREAKING NEWS!

“Oh dear,” I thought. “How did they manage to do that?” It never occurred to me that the news is something that can be broken. 

I picture the scene. A young reporter dashed out early in the morning. Found some news. Raced back to the office with it. And in his urgency rushing it to the news desk editor, he tripped over a stray turnip and fell, letting the news fall from his hands. And the news shattered on the newsroom floor. 

I’ve just seen a breaking news story that the chancellor managed to speak for ages about the economy — without actually saying anything. Although I wonder if he did in fact, say many things. But because this item of news was broken, nobody knows what he said. 

Ah, I did a little more searching and discovered that he said he wasn’t ruling out tax hikes. Now look, Mr Chancellor, Mary and I love going on hikes. But we will NOT pay tax purely for the pleasure of going on one. Pfft! Tax hikes. Whatever next? The interest rate people have in watching the Bank of England show, falling? 

That chancellor chap also said that government borrowing costs are at a historic high. Does the man not know how to explain what he means? If they are borrowing money, why are they comparing it to ages ago when they climbed a steep hill? 

Although I am rather impressed with myself. I have delivered news items without breaking them at all. Look, up there, in the previous paragraphs, I have delivered news intact and wholesome. Perhaps I should be a citizen journalist and show these Press types how not to break the news and my coffee has gone cold. 

A friend of mine was a new desk editor for many years. I gave him a call to discuss this breaking news malarky. His name is Sid Standfirst. 

“Alright, what d’yer want?” 

“Hello Sid, Andy here. I wanted to talk to you about why reporters keep breaking the news.”

“What?”

“Why do reporters—”

“I ‘eard what yer said. I don’t know what the hell yer mean, like?”

Ah, I realised that he is ageing now. And it might take the cogs in his brain a while to keep up. “Ah, I keep hearing breaking news. It’s shocking how much news gets broken.”

“Aye, it’s their job yer big muppet.” 

Now that seemed harsh. And unlikely. Surely journalists are supposed to deliver the news, not break it. “Er, aren’t they meant to deliver the news? Not break it?”

“Bloody ‘ell lad. Happen yer confused with semantics.” 

“I don’t know anyone called Sam Ticks—”

He made a loud noise. Like this: GRRRHHHHARRGHHHH!!

“I meant the meaning of words, you thicko. ‘Breaking news’ doesn’t mean they literally break it. All it means is, it’s something just happening that they are reporting.”

I thought about that for a long moment. A long moment is like a moment, but slightly longer. “Well, they should call it ‘just happened’, then.”

Sid hung up. I say hung up, it sounded like he slammed the phone down with a considerable amount of force unnecessary for ending a perfectly reasonable phone call. He’s getting on in years, bless him. The grumpy old sod. 

Anyway, I’m starting a campaign to name news stories correctly. Pfft! Breaking news! I’m right, it should be called ‘Just Happened’. 

Much clearer. 

Text message from Sid:

What time are you due back in the asylum?

Harsh. 

I’m going to make a beverage formed from an infusion of hot or boiling fresh water with fresh or cured leaves of Camellia sinensis.