9 Nov 2010 | News and features
My Australian countrymen are a frank species. Compare and contrast the mealymouthed slogan used in a UK road safety campaign, “never EVER drink and drive” with the robust tagline used in my home state, “If you drink, then drive, you’re a bloody idiot.”
Unusually Hampshire Police have intervened in this cultural divide warning a local mechanic he could face prosecution for advertising an Australian engine starter called Start Ya Bastard — and yes it is a real product.
Nick Palmer, who sells the spray, has a large advert for the product on his van and has been told by police he could face prosecution for a Public Order offence; presumably a section five offence using abusive or insulting words that could cause harassment, alarm or distress. According to Metro, where I spotted the story, Hampshire police said: “If a complaint were to be received it could be regarded as an offence.”
Surely there is an obligation to treat such complaints with a little commonsense? What percentage of the public are alarmed and distressed by the word?
8 Jun 2010 | Uncategorized
Sometimes censorship is a very black and white issue. Sometimes it is a subject of debate on limits. And sometimes we come up against the, well, “inappropriate”.
Take a couple of stories from this week. Yesterday, it emerged that Miami Living magazine had managed to publish this ad for an online dating agency, featuring a silhouette of male genitalia, to widespread moral outrage.
The ad agency that created the shadow effect seemed quite pleased with itself, saying ” this ‘shadow penis’ ad seems to work and might become a staple of our campaign.”
Miami Living magazine has apologised, saying that no one had noticed the shadow. Now, I’ve laid out magazines. In fact, I’ve laid out magazines quite badly. But I can’t imagine ever missing something like that.
Meanwhile, back in Blighty, Ramsgate hairdresser Marcello Marino has been told to remove a poster of his wife from the side of his premises. The poster, showing the woman in a jacket and tie but NOTHING UNDERNEATH (not even a vest!) has been the subject of complaints. Jocelyn McCarthy of the Ramsgate Society (a local organisation for local people) said that it was distasteful to show “so much cleavage” in a public place. Which seems an odd thing for someone from a seaside resort to say.
Mr Marino was defiant, saying his wife was beautiful (aww) and people need something nice to look at in the recession.
2 Jun 2010 | Index Index, minipost
Following criticism from Muslim groups, the Mail & Guardian newspaper has apologised for publishing a satirical cartoon depicting the prophet Mohammed, and have agreed to refrain from publishing images of him in the future.. The cartoon, by resident illustrator Zapiro, sparked fierce debate and anger when it was published as part of the Facebook-organised Draw Mohammed Day on May 20. The newspaper’s apology comes after a meeting between editorial staff and the United Muslim Forum of South Africa.
2 Jun 2010 | Uncategorized
Most of us don’t really know what it means to be censored. When it happens, it’s usually small-scale and irritating: an excised joke about Roman Polanski in an article I wrote for the Times is my most recent vexation. Hardly on a par with being beaten by secret police in the middle of the night, I think we can all agree. And besides, I replaced him with Voldemort (in the joke, not socially), so who’s the real victor here? Not Roman Polanski, that’s for sure. His propensity for litigation didn’t make The Ghost a better film, after all. It merely makes him slightly harder to joke about than most evil wizard the world has ever known. One who, nonetheless, has the grace not to sue when you mention his sexual proclivities in the pages of Vanity Fair, which makes Roman Polanski objectively worse than Voldemort on the issue of free speech. Although Voldemort is a little worse than Polanski on the issue of death curses and scarring children with his wand. Thank you. I’m here all week.
But my point is, I never really mind when a joke or a reference has to be cut at the lawyers’ behest. They have a job to do, and their job is (at least in part) to protect me from getting sued. There are people I’m related to who do less to take care of my interests than lawyers I’ve never met. So well done them.
And the best thing about them asking if I could change a line to keep myself out of court is it proves that I tried. By far the most common story on the subject of comedians and bad-taste jokes is that someone (Jimmy Carr, Frankie Boyle) said something terrible, and everyone should grovel apologies and crawl over broken glass until honour is satisfied. And so the narrative about humour in the UK today is that it over-steps boundaries, takes advantage of the weak and vulnerable, bitch-slaps those who least deserve it.
But actually, the narrative of modern comedy should be almost the opposite of that. Far too often, comedians don’t make a joke — during a radio or TV recording — which they think will be funny. They self-censor, in other words. They do this not to avoid the opprobrium of the Daily Mail, but rather because they assume the joke will never be broadcast.
Last week, Radio 4 broadcast an episode of Heresy, which Marcus Brigstocke, Rev Richard Coles and I had recorded a couple of weeks before. During the recording, Marcus did the most articulate, furious rant about the Old Testament’s God you could hope to hear. Rev Coles responded with an equally articulate and passionate response about the redemptive nature of Jesus Christ. To me (a non-believer with an interest in religion), it was electrifying stuff. In case you’re wondering what I was up to during all this, let me tell you: I was thinking about the construct of gods in religious texts to explain the cruel vagaries of nature — earthquakes, volcanos, famine and the like. To the untrained ear, I concede it sounds a lot like I am sitting listening to my fellow panellists instead of earning my keep. Ah, the untrained ear.
But the whole subject wrapped up that night with an assumption that Marcus’ rant and Rev Coles’ response would never be broadcast. 6.30pm on Radio 4? The very thought that anyone would be allowed to make jokes about God seemed insane. And yet, the producer of the programme and (I guess) the controller of the station broadcast it anyway. A funny, thoughtful, balanced debate about God went out in the comedy slot, because it was good. And that wouldn’t have happened if Marcus weren’t the kind of comic that says what he’s thinking rather than worrying about what might get cut.
So this is why I’m glad that I tested the Polanski waters, even when I had to then re-write the joke: not trying is the thing we should fear. Failing is fine.
