Why Top Gear willl get into trouble, kumquat may

To quote this story, please use the hashtag #kumquatgate. 

I believe in freedom of speech, I just wish that those who have that luxury would use it sensibly. I fully recognise that they don’t have to – that’s what freedom of speech is all about – but that’s what I’d like.
Jeremy Clarkson is a good example. Sometimes Jeremy Clarkson gets in trouble for saying naughty things. Things he’s allowed to say, legally. Just things that you’d think he would have the sense to choose not to say.
But then again, sometimes I think Jeremy Clarkson’s previous actions in this regard have made Jeremy Clarkson into an easy target for people who don’t like Jeremy Clarkson. And it’s that sort of person who has complained about Jeremy Clarkson nicknaming the Nissan Qashqai (I’ve driven one, by the way: terrible), the Nissan Kumquat.

…one Top Gear fan complained to the BBC in February about Clarkson’s choice of words. According to an appeal made to the BBC Trust, the complainant, “said that Jeremy Clarkson was ‘pronouncing Nissan Qashqai as Nissan Kumquat and [he] would like to know why”. He said he had a car of this type himself and no one on the programme had explained why they were not saying the name correctly.

Fantastic. Not only does this waste time, effort and money, it also trivialises any legitimate complaints made about Clarkson, Top Gear, or indeed any other show on the BBC or any other media outlet.

But of course, things didn’t end there:

 BBC Audience Services responded a few days later, “explaining that ‘Kumquat’ was a nickname Jeremy had given the car, and had referred to the Nissan Kumquat for quite a few seasons”. The viewer was unhappy with the response saying, “his question as to why the car was given the nickname ‘Kumquat’ had not been answered.”

This guy is obviously a bit of a twat. And I thought long and hard (not really) about whether he might read this and find that offensive and I actually decided that I really don’t care either way. I suspect that the people at the BBC who had to deal with Mr Twat also share my feelings.

The BBC explained in a letter that: “It’s simply a nickname for the vehicle, a play on words. Obviously the two words share a phonetic syllable similarity thus like Jeremy does with literally countless car names, he jokingly substituted one with the other, the kumquat of course being an exotic fruit.”

Eish. Why does this need explaining to him? How is it that difficult? Well, at least that’s the matter sorted now, finall… wait… he’s not given up yet, has he?

No. No, he hasn’t:

In April, after two months of what the BBC described politely as a “high number and length of calls” made to the corporation, the viewer appealed to the BBC Trust. In its September appeals roundup the trust went into five pages of detail about the case, concluding that it had decided not to put it to appeal as: “Decisions relating to the use of a wordplay in how to describe a car, or which presenter should work on a programme were editorial and creative matters that rested with the BBC.”

[my emphasis]

This is the downside of free society. Yes, there’s Clarkson’s previous foolishness as I mentioned above, but then there’s this here Mr Twat who chooses to get offended at anything and everything (as is his right) and then write, phone and generally badger the BBC about it (as is also, unfortunately, his right).

Just as Jeremy Clarkson’s disappointing decisions regarding what should come out of his mouth regarding bridges, nursery rhymes and so on, does no favours for those fighting for free speech in these trying times (nor for the BBC), Mr Twat’s desperation to find offence in the mention of a small, orange, Asian fruit belittles those decrying genuine harassment, racism, this-ism and that-ism or whatever other stuff happens when people don’t understand the sometimes paper-thin divide between free speech and hate speech. And long sentences. They’re also bad.

I strongly dislike Mr Twat.

Breakdown

Listicle time. (Sorry). But those with children will surely recognise something from these (and here I quote):

34 Hilarious Photos Of Kids Losing It Over NOTHING

Indeed:

kid2

To be fair, I would have reacted in pretty much the same way.

kid3

Ataxia should not be mocked. This is sick.

kid1

Argh! The frustration!
And that wooden swan lamp would be enough to make most people throw a wobbly, anyway.

My best (worst?) experience of this was probably the occasion when my 3 year old son was crying because he didn’t know why he was crying. This vicious circle was only broken after about an hour (it felt like 8) when he ran out of energy and fell asleep. It was both very annoying and highly amusing at the same time, which I suspect is exactly why these parents took the photos above.

justboristhings

I love Boris.

Boris Johnson is the incumbent mayor of London and he’s a polarising figure. I think he’s great, and I’m not alone in that – he was recently revealed as (easily) Britain’s most popular politician, albeit that the competition wasn’t up to much, consisting, as it did, exclusively of British politicians.

Boris is undoubtedly a star attraction in British politics and the Conservative Party will be pleased to have him onside in 2015. A Tory that can win in London is a rare thing and what makes Boris so attractive within the Party.

Some of the stuff he does and some of the soundbites he comes out with make me cringe, others make me wish that Cape Town’s mayor, Patricia de Lille, had a bit more personality and a bit more gees about her. But her attitude is more to toe the party line. Boris’ attitude is not to give a flying toss about the party line. He’s a law unto himself, but if you believe that there’s nothing behind the apparent buffoonery of his outward image, I think you’re mistaken. You don’t get where Boris is by being a buffoon. Acting one, perhaps – being one, no.

Here’s his latest offering, regarding the recent defections from the Conservatives to UKIP:

Speaking to Conservative Party members, he suggested UKIP should throw its weight behind the Tories in order to defeat Labour and secure an in/out referendum on Britain’s EU membership in next year’s general election.

He told the rally: “The EU commission wants to ban vacuum cleaners on the grounds that they are too powerful. If you do not handle your vacuum cleaner correctly, you may end up inhaling the hamster – the budgerigar through the bars of the cage.
And I have read that there are some people – probably the type who are thinking of defecting to UKIP – who present themselves at A&E with barely credible injuries sustained through vacuum cleaner abuse.”

Yes. He’s basically saying that his political opponents have intimate relations with electric cleaning equipment.

Next. Level. Stuff.

Spectacular. It’s weirdly similar to (a classier version of) Julius Malema’s immaturity (and without the charges of racketeering and 52 other allegations, including fraud). Whether it will work any better than the EFF’s very vocal, but wholly ineffective shouty parliamentary behaviour remains to be seen.

Either way, I love Boris.

 

P.S. Incidentally, for the record, I don’t think you get where Julius Malema is without being fairly clever, either.

Up high

We’ve all had the feeling when you wake up in the morning and find – with disappointment – that your palms aren’t at all sweaty. It’s annoying and potentially upsetting and, but what many people don’t realise is that it’s easily cured by looking at just a few urban climbing photos.

These young people know no fear (although, interestingly, you never see an urban climber past the age of about 21, do you?) and they do the hard yards (upwards) so that your palms can sweat from the comfort of your own laptop.

Right – checked your palms? Let’s go:

high3

I don’t know if it’s because I have a rational brain, but I find that I can easily (and graphically) envisage what would happen if something were to go awry and this bloke was to slip from here. (And in this case, ‘here’ is the crane at the top of this). *dry heave*

But then, there’s some sort of nature thing at play here too, because even on the Boomslang yesterday, ‘only’ 12 metres high, I was worried about the kids. Not about me. Just them. And that’s got big railings up the sides of it. Not like some ledge on the side of a building 70-odd storeys up. Which begs the question, WHAT IN SWEET JESUS’ NAME IS THIS GUY THINKING??!?!?

high2

I can’t even grip my mouse anymore. Bring tissues! (careful now)

If this hasn’t butterflied your tummy enough and got those palms weeping, then there are plenty more where those came from, and that place was here.