Almost everything in the papers these days is about money, or more precisely, the lack of it. We’re supposed to applaud this Stephen Hester guy for setting precedent and refusing his £1 million bonus from the RBS despite the fact that he’s still getting the £100,000 a month or so in his salary (from the taxpayers!). He only did it because of the overwhelming amount of political and media pressure placed on him, have you seen how much he looks like a severely depressed, post-accident Humpty Dumpty since he did it? I’d give him an I’m-not-actually-a-twat badge if he could survive just one week in London on a student’s allowance. As if the MPs have the right to preach about the value of money as well? Those out of touch, often-sweaty politicians were all too happy working out how much it would cost in expenses to stage a swimsuit contest with the Middleton sisters in the House of Commons, just a few months ago.
Carrying on with the theme from last issue (comparing the ‘real’ news in the mass media, to the beautifully meaningless stories that can be found in the Falmouth Packet) I want to use this section to comment upon how ridiculously irrelevant the mass media has become, how farcical this zeitgeist of fear actually is, and how there’s so much in the world to enjoy if you just use those little, beady things attached to your face and look around. It’s a salute to those stories that really, actually matter, to the stories that touch you on a positive emotional level and not just a we’re-going-to-mind-fuck-you-because-you-can-read one, because that’s just not what it’s about.
I chose this story because, contrary to journalist law, it immediately made me smile. As I’m sure it will do to most of you. Except maybe first year students. And sober people. The headline: A year after being devastated by fire, the final touches are being made at The Pandora Inn before the historic pub opens its doors once more. Like a phoenix, seemingly mirroring those iconic images of burning shops in the London Riots, the Pandora rises triumphantly from the ashes. Even amidst this ‘debilitating’ recession, a little Cornish pub in Mylor can dust off and pull itself back to its feet - meaningless in the greater scheme of things, but totally more relevant to you than an obese guy at the bank. Isn’t it? Tell me your not going to get out to The Pandora the first chance you get? Yes things may be tight, and yes, maybe you don’t have the cash to get that sweet flat overlooking the harbor, but at least you’re in Cornwall, and at least you got a couple of pennies to have a Sunday Roast in a truly beautiful spot.
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