Favourite news story from last night: a company who makes signs for estate agents is seeing a drastic drop in revenue. The ‘For Sale’ signs are no longer selling.
The piece comes with a photo of the company boss in his warehouse, frowning at the camera while surrounded by endless piles of orphaned boards, like that scene from the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Or if you’re like me and can’t stop yourself adding this tidbit, that scene from the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark that rips off – sorry, pays HOMAGE to – that scene from the end of Citizen Kane. The warehouse of infinite hubris.
I’m always puzzled why people oblige the press by not just indulging their lust for a quirky story on the recession, but posing for a photo too. Similarly, the young lady involved in the Russell Brand / Jonathan Ross / Andrew Sachs hysteria. Lots of specially-taken photos of her looking sad. Make-up on and hair done as for any other photo shoot, but asked to pull an unhappy expression. Stage-managed tristesse, titivated outrage. What does umbrage LOOK like, after all?
The sign man’s appointments diary: ‘Photographer coming round to capture me in the warehouse looking sad.’
I suppose getting your face in the press just feels flattering, whatever the reason. One for the family scrapbook.
‘Here’s your Uncle Dave in the local paper a few years ago. He complained about a speed camera. That’s why he’s in front of a speed camera, pointing and looking sad. He had his hair cut specially.’
Tags: musings on media
