TRIAL BY TELEVISION IS A TURN-OFF

By Jim Black

I do not profess to know with any degree of certainty whether Oscar Pistorius is innocent, or guilty of the charge of murdering his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp.

But I am certain in my own mind of one thing - the almost daily televised circus transmitted by BBC from the Pretoria High Court is tasteless, tacky and utterly demeaning to the man dubbed “The Blade Runner.”

It is bad enough viewing newspaper photographs of Pistorius looking haunted without also listening to the sounds of his sobs, retching and general despair.  Mercifully, so far we are spared the sight of the accused, given that he remains off camera.

But I cannot understand why the world at large lusts after the sounds of the man’s misery, for none of this does anything to serve the cause of justice in a dignified fashion.

This is not some TV Soap, or an excuse for yet another helping of reality TV. A young woman died in the most appalling circumstances and it is right that Pistorius should have to answer for shooting her.

But is it right that the principals in this case – the accused, judge, jury, prosecution and defence teams - should be afforded an opportunity to become actors, if, indeed, they have a mind to?

I think not. The chief prosecutor, Gerrie Nel certainly does not need any make-up artist to improve his appearance before the director shouts “lights, camera and action”. He already appears to be enjoying his new celebrity hugely.

I had the good fortune to interview Pistorius three years ago during the Dunhill Links Championship at St Andrews and he came across as pleasant, articulate and quick-witted. He also somehow manages to largely disguise the fact that he is physically challenged to such an extent.

Appearing to be a “nice guy” does not, of course, testify to innocence or guilt. That is for the jury to decide.

But Pistorius is entitled to a trial without the rest of the world looking on as if it were some sort of unsightly peep show.

Whatever the verdict, Pistorius will have to live every second of every day for the reminder for his life with the knowledge that he ended the life of a woman he professed to love and that is punishment enough, surely.

Is there really a need to share his despair purely to satisfy the ghoulish desire of the public at large?

WE Brits pride ourselves on fair play. So, why is it that the Crown Prosecution Service appears to feel a need to indulge in a witch hunt against Dave Lee Travis?

The CPS is behaving in a manner reminiscent of Senator Joseph McCarthy and his anti-homosexual and communist purges of the 1940s and 50s.

As in the case of Oscar Pistorius, I have no certain knowledge of DLT’s innocence, or guilt.

But the stench of McCarthyism is rife. One is almost tempted to suggest that certain individuals are engaged in a drive to “get” the former disc jockey at all costs.

The fall-out from the odious goings on of the late and unlamented Jimmy Savile have been far reaching and it is right and proper that each incident related to alleged sex attacks should be investigated thoroughly and the perpetrators called to account.

But I cannot help worrying that for some it may also an opportunity to settle old scores.

As recently as February, Travis, now 68, was cleared by a jury of 12 indecent assaults.

He claimed at the time his life had been ruined at great financial and moral cost to him and his wife, adding that he now wished to simply get on with what remained of his time on earth.

But barely two months on, he faces trial again on two charges that saw deliberations fail to reach a verdict.

Those two alleged indecent assaults happened in 2008 and in the early 1990s. So the nightmare continues for DLT.

Personally, I feel a deep sense of unease that traditional British justice is being hijacked in the wake of Savile to appease the accusers of those who were complicit in covering up for the monster and his kind in the first instance.

TRAIN operators First ScotRail, the organisation I love to hate for its incompetence and flagrant disregard for the comfort and safety of its passengers, has done it again.

Part of the main line from Dundee and Perth to Glasgow is being closed on May 17 – the day Dundee United play St Johnstone in the Scottish Cup final.

Engineering works between Perth and Larbert mean the line can’t be used. Fans will either have to use trains re-routed through Fife and suffer delays, or take to the roads instead.

Network Rail has issued an apology, but insists there is nothing it can do as these engineering works have been planned for two years.

ScotRail, meanwhile, is keen to discuss with the competing clubs how they can help fans travel to and from Glasgow.

I have a much simpler suggestion: Postpone the work for 24 hours - like you do services without prior warning, consideration or care for your valued (?) and regularly inconvenienced customers that you don’t give a damn about.

No, here’s an even better idea: Hand over the rail franchise to a competent body that does give a damn!

REALITY TV IS NOT CHILD'S PLAY

By Jim Black

WHAT are we doing to our children?

Sorry, I’ll start again: What is television doing to our children?

The proliferation of “Reality TV” programmes has me scratching my head in disbelief that those charged with deciding the daily schedules actually imagine that the majority of us want to watch wall-to-wall poverty porn.

“The Scheme” and “Benefits Street” are two prime examples of producers having lost the plot completely.

The aforementioned “The Scheme” featured residents of a Kilmarnock council estate and traced the lives of six families.

Not all who have the misfortune to share their lives with the “stars?” of this pitiful attempt by BBC Scotland to highlight “real lives” exposed themselves to ridicule in this cheapskate production that attempted to create personalities out of scumbags.

Watching a collection of degenerates behaving in a threatening and violent manner, exposing children to a diatribe of foul language, making their neighbours’ lives misery and generally acting in an offensive and underhand way is compulsive viewing apparently.

God save us from a repeat, or even worse, another series featuring such pond life as Marvin, who should be locked up and the key thrown away.

Yet this grim offering was deemed worthy of a Bafta award.

Difficult though it may be to comprehend, Channel 4’s “Benefits Street” is an even more horrific concept.

The idea here, it would appear, was to highlight the virtues of “cheating the system” while also attempting to turn the principals into loveable rogues and largely irresistible characters.

James Turner Street in Birmingham became famous overnight for all the wrong reasons. It portrays society at its worst – a litter-strewn road, children left to fend for themselves while their parents share a beer and a fag, and a self-proclaimed “Godmother” in the form of an odious, unattractive benefits cheat who looks to be in need of a good wash.

I refer to “White Dee,” who, having been sacked from her job as a council administrator for stealing £13,000, now offers advice to neighbours on how to claim handouts.

She is also the mother of a five-year-old who has been taught how to start a blaze using a lighter and deodorant can by two of the resident drunks, swear like a trooper and defy all forms of authority. How sad that this little boy will grow up never having had a chance.

Not everyone who resides in what is claimed to be one of Britain’s most benefit-dependent streets is a criminal, an alcoholic, a drug abuser, a drug pedlar or a benefits cheat, just the majority.

Apparently “White Dee” and her pal “Black Dee” have been offered a twin naked photo-shoot by a grubby porn magazine, such is the extent of their new-found status as TV personalities.

There has also been talk of “Black Dee” entering the murky world of politics. I ask you, has the world gone truly mad?

It would be laughable if it wasn’t so disturbing. But as many as five million viewers tuned into this expose on “Scumbag Britain” – if Channel 4 is to be believed. Mercifully, the other 55 million or so Brits did not.

Perhaps they were saving themselves for the next instalment of another Channel 4 production, “Embarrassing Bodies,” which regularly features displays of genitalia by individuals who are sadly lacking self-respect, apparently in the name of medicine.

Or maybe they were preoccupied by thoughts of “The Street,” another attempt by BBC Scotland to tickle our taste buds for “no-holds” reality documentaries.

The idea was actually not a bad one. Glasgow’s Sauchiehall Street is after all world-famous and must have a million stories to tell.

Regrettably, executive producer Ewan Angus chose to focus to a large extent on a take-away owner who experienced difficulty completing a sentence without the use of the “F” and “C” words and a street musician who has a habit of getting up other people’s noses.

The fact that Sauchiehall Street has a proud and rich history was completely glossed over. One wonders what the City Fathers made of it all as a marketing disaster ahead of the forthcoming Commonwealth Games?

But does TV care? Not a bit of it, as long as the viewing figures stack up.

The age of innocence is long gone. TV has decreed that we will all live in the “reality” world, regardless of what long-term damage that is doing to the minds and wellbeing of youngsters who are being conditioned to think that bad is good.

TO TRAIN OR NOT TO TRAIN, THAT IS THE VEXING QUESTION! - By Jim Black

LET the train take the strain...wasn’t that what those charged with extolling the benefits of rail travel told us?
Pity no one told ScotRail.
Take the strain? More like make the strain!
Those of you have had the misfortune to experience the ScotRail experience as it were of late will appreciate where I am coming from.
Being of a certain vintage I qualify for the excellent Club 55 deal – anywhere in Scotland return for £19 second class and £35 first.
Considering what a tank of diesel costs to take you from Inverness to Edinburgh, return, it was a no brainer when the Scottish Mail on Sunday newspaper asked me to report on the recent Aberdeen versus St Johnstone League Cup semi-final at Tynecastle Park.
The almost luxury of a first class compartment, free tea and coffee, biscuits and a power point that worked (for once) even if the wifi is invariably crap! What more can you ask for?
All was well on the journey south and several cups of coffee later I alighted at Haymarket in a reasonably cheery mood (well, by my standards I was almost cheery!).
Perhaps had I know what awaited me several hours later on my return I might not have been quite so chipper.
Fast forward to 6.50pm and I could sense troubles ahead.
The platform at Haymarket was awash with red and white – and dozens of drunken Dons fans celebrating their team’s overwhelming victory and a cup final place for only the second time in the new millennium. Fair enough, as a Dundee fan largely deprived of such experiences I could understand their need to push the boat out.
Not even the presence of several officers of law and order could deter the assembled masses from giving vent to their emotions – in song, foul language and yobbish behaviour at the expense of the wellbeing of women, children and puppy dogs!
Almost predictably the travel board was lit up announcing that the Aberdeen train preceding the Inverness express was running several minutes late due its delayed departure from Waverly and this was having a knock on effect to subsequent services.
But, so what, I asked myself? What are a few minutes between friends?
Trouble was when the Aberdeen train eventually drew into the platform it was wall-to-wall, standing room only.
This was not altogether surprising, given that an estimated 12,000 Dons fans had made their way to the capital. But, clearly, no one had told ScotRail!
Perhaps if they had known, the fat cats who are responsible for the smooth running of the country’s rail network might have given due consideration to proving extra services to cope with the demand. Then again, maybe not!
But, I digress. On they poured until even the officers of law and order felt a need to intervene, in a half-hearted attempt to restore a semblance of sanity, with the result that several dozen would-be travellers were advised to “come on, get aff!”
The unfortunate (?) would-be travellers were, however, assured that if they caught the Inverness-bound express due to arrive shortly – and late – they would have the option of changing at Perth and catching the Glasgow-Aberdeen service.

By now several members of the “brain dead society”, who had decided to stay onboard and take taxis from Inverness ...(and further on).

Partial sanity was restored a few miles north of Perth

But even the best laid schemes of mice and men – and ScotRail – gang aft agley.
To cut a long and potentially boring story short rather than put the reader’s health at risk, less than an hour later we were “beached” somewhere in darkest Fife to facilitate a brawl on the preceding Aberdeen train, the upshot being that we eventually arrived in Perth way behind schedule and late enough to ensure that the Glasgow-Aberdeen service had long since departed.
By now several member of the “brain dead society”, who had decided to stay onboard and take taxis from inverness to various points along the Moray coast, had availed themselves of the first class facilities, treating those of us who had paid for the privilege to a mix of foul language, drunk and disorderly behaviour while also demonstrating their dexterity in the art of ridding themselves of excess flatulence!
And, surprise, surprise, there wasn’t a ticket inspector to be seen anywhere! Had there been, he or she might actually have evoked the ruling banning the consumption of alcohol after a certain hour on a Saturday evening. Neither was there any sign of a buffet service.
Perish the thought, but was this yet another example of ScotRail employees failing to carry out their duties?
Partial sanity was restored a few north of Perth when a ticket inspector at last showed face and ejected the members of the “brain dead society” and a buffet car attendant at last materialised.
But the story doesn’t end there. Now, hopelessly behind schedule and without toilet facilities from 11 o’clock due to their disgusting state, we travelled on through the night to be told at Newtonmore, Kingussie and Carbridge, in turn, that as there were no station lights at these far flung Highland outposts would passengers alighting please ensure extra care?
Perish the thought again, did ScotRail have a contingency plan to deal with a medical emergency in the event of an aged and infirm traveller slipping on an icy surface and wedging themselves between train and platform? No, probably not.
Eventually, a few minutes short of midnight, we reached journey’s end – five unpleasant hours after setting out on a journey that is scheduled to take less than four to complete the distance from Scotland’s capital to the capital of the Highlands.
There were no apologies from ScotRail. But, why would there be? This is Alex Salmond’s brave new land, after all, and none are necessary apparently.
But, next time someone suggests I let the train take the strain, I’ll take my car instead.