Be-Hatted

An early one today cos the weather is not likely to play ball, and from 14.30 we're Fringe-ing till the wee small hours (okay, there will be a break for a quick trip home, and for dinner).

More people should wear hats; and people should wear hats more often. That's all I'm saying on the subject.

Be thankful I didn't blip yesterday, there was a rant lined up about Naomi Campbell at the War Crimes Tribunal and BBC News going overboard with a man stood outside a grey office block that could have been in Slough let alone the Hague, but then we must be 'on the scene' mustn't we, talking about the fact that Campbell may have arrived but they couldn't be sure, but TV cameras would be there while she gave her evidence, ignoring the biggest part of the story being that as a witness she was being allowed a legal team in with her who could stop questioning if it looked like she was going to incriminate itself and this was the top top news story for them over the Pakiston floods and the deaths of three young children in Edinburgh, when they've been strangely silent on the case in the days before Campbell's appearance and there wasn't so much of a sniff of a hint of a glance back at the trial this morning proving that celebrity trumps genuine news every day of the week in our crazy fame-obsessed existence of force-fed docu-drama-reality-exhibitionism masquerading as something that might actually be worthwhile but which just a micron below the surface is proven to be a sham of epic proportions that the populace has swallowed hook line and sinker like a small child being told about Santa Claus and the tooth fairy except there seems to be no nagging doubt such as that which would be present in a small child and instead there's an adult certitude of 'what's-on-the-telly-must-be-true' that brings us into an ever-descending cycle of mindless wittering and a society that doesn't know the difference between 'their' and 'there' and thinks a small coffee drink is an 'expresso' and can't use apostrophes and can't spell 'definitely' and thinks that James Nesbitt can act and sees Victoria Beckham as a style icon with a lifestyle to be aspired to because we all want to marry footballers as our ultimate achievement in life rather than having done something through our own fecking endeavour.

So you'll see, by not blipping yesterday I saved you having to read that particular rant.

p.s. was otter hunting last night with a chap who emailed EdinburghWildlife about a spot at Canonmills where he's been watching them virtually every night for the last couple of weeks and of course last night was the first he hadn't seen any... LOADS of bats though, they were brilliant, but too fast in the dark to photograph without an elaborate setup I'm going to have to consider.

p.p.s. the chap I met, who Mel was worried might be an axe-murderer, was a nice bloke called Darren who runs a company called 'Bawbags' (seriously, check it out) and rather than being a fusty old sandel-wearing hippy enviro type I expected, was a guy my age, from Lahndan, who has a snowboarding and skateboarding background, and happens to like football (West 'Aaaaaam to my Newcastle) and cricket. We got on rather well.