The temptations of MySpace journalism: the Ipswich killings investigation

Mr Tom Stephens of Ipswich was arrested early this morning for further questioning in connection with the killings of five women whose bodies were found in the Ipswich area.

The news have been awash with this gripping story for weeks now, and as Mr. Stephens's house was being cordoned off and covered over with a tent this morning, News 24 showed us the police activity using a camera sneakily positioned in an upstairs window of a nearby house. Sky had to make do with peeking round a corner from street level...

The Telegraph quotes from Mr Stephens's profile liberally in addition to describing it in some detail. This actually makes it rather easy to locate his profile, a privilege I am glad to see has not yet been abused. This raises the issue of whether personal profiles, which in theory list the personal friends of their authors and allow direct contact to be made, should now become as closely guarded by journalists as the addresses of private individuals.

And the three little marketing consultants said "Wii? Wii? Oui!"

The Beeb are thankfully never short of stories that put an amusing spin on tired material. Quoting Nintendo president Satoru Iwata today, the BBC site explained Nintendo's reponse to the news that some users were hitting objects - such as television screens - during their frantic playing sessions:

‘Some people are getting a lot more excited than we'd expected.

‘We need to better communicate to people how to deal with Wii as a new form of entertainment.’

So... the Wii is so packed with entertainment goodness that it has gone totally out of Nintendo's control, and gamers have been transformed into sweaty beasts, content to destroy house and home as the price for a gaming ‘fix.’ And the advice they so badly need to communicate? ‘Nintendo also cautioned players to stay at least three feet away from the TV and to make sure people and objects were safely outside their range of motion.’ What would we ever do without them?

Burma's Secret War

Evan Williams’ ‘Burma's Secret War’, just aired a few minutes ago as one of Channel 4's Dispatches programmes, is the most daring and revealing documentary on the politics of a non-democratic state that I've ever seen. I have seen journalists cross borders momentarily or pop in and out of state-controlled regions of land before in other programmes, but the sustained disregard Williams and his interview subjects show for the burmese junta's climate of secrecy is astonishing, and very moving to behold.

Williams joins people affected by the regime's cruelty and faces some of their ordeals by travelling with them to villages already being descended upon by the military. He leaves for the city before trouble arrives, only to immediately begin contacting revolutionaries and the families of victims of the clampdown on political prisoners, passing on his way the dilapidated fortress that is the location of captive former president Aung San Suu Kyi. One such man, clearly already ill, eagerly submits to interview without disguise and when asked about the danger of arrest he faces replies with a smile that "the next time they pick me up... I won't be coming back."

This is a fascinating insight into the state of affairs in the country, and in media terms, as television it allows us to see how, in a state that employs censorship and violence with impunity, the spirit of revolution is kindled against all the odds.

Fur, fish and other classic kickers: Look East

Today's lunchtime regional news was solid proof that while children and animals may have a reputation for being difficult to work with on film, their adorable physiognomies can make up the cornerstones of respectable programmes if they remain motionless, or even better, are being restrained. Also much in evidence were the programme makers' efforts to create a sense of continuity for the programme with more unspoken programme links and pointless displays of humour than you could crack open an oyster at.

First was a report on a bulldog's attack on four-year old George Brown, whose second encounter with the animal had left him scarred. The team showed him asleep as they reported on dog owner Michael Feehily and his partner Toni Badcock appearing at court. The film of their arrival was somewhat undermined by Ms Badcock waving gleefuflly into the camera as soon as she was near it.

Next we heard of a woman who had recently gone missing. She may, noted the newsreader with flexed eyebrows, have a dog with her. So it can't be all bad.

But... we then hear that even though the dog is being cared for even in absentia, it may not be too safe after all, unless it has already been vaccinated for the sinister parvovirus that is going round. Cue stock(?) footage of cute creatures with floppy ears being pinned unneccesarily to an operating table. Surely this third consecutive animal story is quite enough?

After those mostly sober opening stories, the animal theme was abused further by interviews with east coast crab and lobstercatchers concerned that they would no longer be allowed to trap enough animals under new guidelines limiting catches to older animals.

Then, in the fitting climax that a British weather item should always be, and in the established tradition of putting every obscure town on maps on local news, which towns should be marked today but ‘Codicote’, what I think was ‘Herringston’, and where else but ‘Fishley’?

Who needs human interest?

Swanning about in Snowdonia

Simon Jenkins writing in today's Guardian produced a sensitive account of the important political and aesthetic balance between the paper's ‘older, subtler’ yet ‘dusty’ members and the more recent ‘slick, metropolitan’ but politically ‘wind-blown’ newer folk. ‘Folk’ might aptly describe the culture of the nature-loving and often consciously amusing Guardian stalwarts characterised by Jenkins. The serious side is, he explains, that a poetic appreciation of nature and the idea that a newspaper can provide a more complete picture of the world by allowing breathing-space for more soulful - as opposed to factual - content must hold some truth.

Perhaps the next wallchart could involve politicians in the guises of fauna of the world, drawn in that textbook style that just looks so good on a poster. Nope, I see it's felines again. Although tino may well boycott that edition to show his disapproval at the way Simon Jenkin's article dismisses out of hand the once-proud muffin, placing it with the sandals and rambling canes of the fusty reader. Tino enjoys them, and he likes them chunky.