I Love Paper (3)

I love paper, mainly because of the written word. Long pieces, short articles, just playing around with language. Which you can do online, on tv or on radio. But on paper, it’s just… art.

Ernest Hemingway won his ten dollar bet that he could write a life story is six words by coming up with:

For sale, baby shoes. Never worn.

Shiver down my spine, when I heard it for the umpteenth time on BBC’s Today this morning. Someone had started a similar contest. Come up with your own. Been done before, here in England and of course in Hemingway’s America.

It is fun, and I’m always looking for these kind of sentences in news paper articles. Which is why I love paper. What paper? Well pick your own, based on how Jim Hacker in Yes Minister put it: Don’t tell me about the press. I know exactly who reads the papers:

* The Daily Mirror is read by people who think they run the country;

* The Guardian is read by people who think they ought to run the country;

* The Times is read by people who actually do run the country;

* The Daily Mail is read by the wives of the people who run the country;

* The Financial Times is read by people who own the country;

* The Morning Star is read by people who think the country ought to be run by another country;

* And the Daily Telegraph is read by people who think it is.

Sir Humphrey: Prime Minister, what about the people who read the Sun?

Bernard Woolley: Sun readers don’t care who runs the country, as long as she’s got big tits.

(Alert reader Bram sent these quotes by way of my NOS blog. Thanks.)

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