Monday, 18 November 2013

Publishing Pitfalls


On the 2nd November, a storm battered Aberystwyth's promenade.  Waves crashed over parked cars, stones and debris rained down on the road and it was spectacular.  Naturally, Coyote and I were there with my trusty Pentax, snapping away and even taking a short video.

Always happy to help, on the following Monday I offered images from my Flickr page to a local newspaper for free; asking only that I received a credit in print.  The reporter I approached seemed over the moon, calling me a 'star' and stating that they had plenty of 'after' photographs but no 'during' images, so I was chuffed that I could be of assistance!

So when the new edition of the newspaper hit the shelves on the Thursday, I went to buy a copy in the hope of seeing one or two of my photographs in print.  Imagine my shock when I saw a photograph that Coyote had shared on Twitter on the front page of the Aberystwyth edition...


I took that photograph as we sat in Minty, enjoying the thrill of the storm.  Coyote uploaded it immediately, wanting to share our experience with our friends.  Within minutes, his phone was on overdrive with retweets, comments and favourites.  We'd obviously hit on a winner!  But little did we know at the time that this image would appear in at least 2 editions of The Cambrian News without permission or credit.

Disappointment soon gave way to a bitter curiosity.  Could newspapers actually lift images from social media and publish them without so much as a 'please'?  I immediately posed this question online, and all responses agreed that it shouldn't have happened.  Some likened it to an act of piracy while others pointed out that if the tables were turned and I published something of theirs without permission, they'd come down on me like the proverbial tonne of bricks.  All lights were green to let rip and unleash merry hell.

But this Roadrunner is, for her sins, a wary pessimist.  There was bound to be some red tape; some loophole...some niggling legality somewhere that meant they were perfectly innocent in publishing my photograph without permission...wasn't there?

I chose to start at the beginning.  That's usually a good place.  I emailed The Cambrian News with my concerns:

Dear Ms Thomas;

I'm emailing you regarding a photograph that appeared on the front page and inside the 7th November Aberystwyth edition of your newspaper and, I'm told, inside another edition (please see attached).

I'm a photographer.  On the night of the storm, my fiancĂ© and I drove down to Aberystwyth with a view to taking professional photographs for publication and broadcast.  In a break from capturing images with my own camera, I took the attached photograph for my fiancĂ© on his phone, and he uploaded it to Twitter to share with our friends.

The following Monday, I offered one of your reporters high quality images for free - asking only that I was given a credit.  Imagine my surprise, then, when I went to buy a copy of The Cambrian News as I do every week...and saw this photograph on the front.

At no point was permission sought to publish this photograph.

This has led me to wonder what your protocols are regarding using images found on social media.  I've spoken to several journalists and newspaper reporters who stated that every effort should be made to find the original source of an image; seeking permission for publication when the source has been found.

Please clarify your procedure for publishing images found on social media.  If there's a directive somewhere that means I could be surprised again by one of my snapshots appearing on a front page, I'd very much like to be aware of it.

Yours sincerely;

***

I received a response today:

Hi;

As you say, we do try to find out the source, but if we are unable to we have on occasion taken pictures from public pages when they are good images - which yours was.


I am sorry we didn't credit you on this occasion.

If you are keen to get some pictures published, I will be happy to consider images from you in the future, and to give you a credit in print.

Just out of interest, do you know which reporter you spoke to on the Monday - as I cannot find anyone who seems to remember the conversation.

Yours sincerely


***

Ignoring the backhanded compliments and condescending offer of future publication, it seemed that they were unable to find the original source of the photograph. Is it really that difficult to do? There was only one way to find out.

16 days have passed since that photograph was uploaded.  If it was going to be difficult to find it, I'd have my work cut out for me.  Ensuring I was logged out of Twitter to avoid any easy links to shared followers, I started the search...


Hmm.  How would I go about finding photographs tagged with Aberystwyth?  Oh, I know - I'll click the 'Photos' tab...


A tiny bit of scrolling to get past over 2 weeks' worth of images and, lo and behold, there's the photograph.  Now then - I wonder who posted it?  Let's click on the photo...


Hmm.  That doesn't seem to be the original poster.  The 'RT' at the start of the tweet gives that away.  The first person mentioned doesn't seem to be the original poster either...the 'RT' after their name gives that away.  But hang on a minute...who is this 'MarkTheTravel'?  Better click on his profile and have a look through his timeline...


Ah, look!  There's the photograph!  But how do I know it's the original?  Well - the amount of retweets and favourites certainly suggest it is...but let's be on the safe side and ask the poster, shall we?

Oh wait - I don't need to.  Because I took it and was sat next to him when he uploaded it.

Unable to find the source?  How?  Not quite up to speed on how to use a computer to do a quick bit of research?  They didn't even try.

Copyright legalities aside (I'm not in the mood for wading through treacle today), I'm shocked by the ease with which a photograph was lifted from social media and published in a newspaper without permission.  The managing editor of the newspaper stated herself that they 'do try to find the source' when clearly, on this occasion at least, they didn't.  If I could find the source of the image with a few clicks 16 days after it was uploaded, then it's glaringly obvious that no effort was made on their part.

Why didn't they try?  Perhaps a photo credit is a rare, mystical thing that should be closely guarded.  Perhaps their computers all broke in some mass hard drive suicide.  Or perhaps they're just lazy.   

This blog post isn't about rights and laws.  After all; I probably haven't got a leg to stand on legally...but I can share what's happened to me.  I just want this to serve as a warning to you all; photographers or not.  Next time you're about to share an image on social media, be aware that it could be staring out at you from the front page of a newspaper the next time you pop out for a pint of milk.


Wednesday, 7 August 2013

BOFtulism - Be Aware


Our 100th blog post was supposed to be an interview with some bloke off the radio, but we've recently discovered a terrible infection that could threaten mankind and, you know, we thought we should tell you about it and stuff.  We're nice like that.

BOFtulism (medical term: B0R1NG) is a particularly virulent virus that doesn't discriminate.  You, your partner, your children...you're all at risk.  It would appear that it began in the depths of Pembrokeshire, but for some reason it is now starting to spread across mainland Great Britain.  Scientists are currently testing the contents of a Mansel Davies tanker that may have transported contaminated produce across the county border, thus putting the rest of the United Kingdom at risk.

The virus - while not fatal - can be permanently debilitating.  It strips the sufferer of all higher-functioning cognitive processes; effectively leaving them void of humour and empathy.  In severe cases, the sufferer may pursue a career in politics or journalism.

We've spent weeks researching this virus with our Fisher Price chemistry lab (it's missing a conical flask and a dropper, but that's ok; we used a vodka bottle and a turkey baster instead) so we can hopefully help you and those you care about avoid contracting it and, should the worst happen, treat it quickly.  Below you'll find lists of virus hotspots that you must avoid, along with symptoms and treatment.  Please read this information carefully and print it out for future reference.

BOFtulism: Where to Avoid

The B0R1NG virus thrives in particular environments.  Through exhaustive scientific fiddling about, we've compiled this list of the areas you should avoid in order to considerably lower your chance of infection:

  • Range Rover salerooms
  • Opera houses
  • Waitrose
  • Sainsbury's
  • Harrods
  • John Lewis
  • Boardrooms
  • Golf clubhouses
  • Yacht clubs
  • Squash courts
  • Estate agencies
  • Political assemblies
  • Media buildings
  • Local business award ceremonies
  • Anywhere that sells Chelsea boots
  • Any restaurant where a steak costs more than £10
  • Pembrokeshire

BOFtulism: Symptoms

There are several obvious symptoms that you should be aware of.  B0R1NG manifests itself in exclusive symptoms currently linked to this virus alone. 

  • Slight drooping of the right side of the mouth; resulting in a left-biased smile
  • Minimal loss of hearing; causing the sufferer to raise their voice
  • Muscle spasms in the dominant hand. The sufferer will seem to be pointing in an obnoxious manner
  • Cravings for salt and fat.  Bacon is usually feverishly sought
  • Repetitive references to their home county
  • Reluctance to be impulsive
  • Uncontrollable dribbling when sighting a Porsche
  • Sudden, deep interest in politics
  • Territorial tendencies; the sufferer will not let you into their house
  • Irrational fear of sprouts
In males
  • A desire to wear horrendous ties
  • Flirting with considerably younger women
  • Hoarding of linen shirts
In females:
  • A desire to bleach hair blonde
  • Development of a non-existent food allergy
  • Repeated use of the superlative 'amazing'

If you spot one or more of these symptoms in yourself or someone else, you must act quickly.  BOFtulism progresses at an alarming rate.  Quicker, in fact, than a greased-up pig being thrown down a park slide.  A park slide that's got Vaseline all over it.  The following treatment techniques are in order of level of infection - the first being for mild symptoms and the last for rampant infection.

PLEASE NOTE: The final treatment is extreme and should only be carried out in a controlled environment.

  1. Play a Roger Whittaker album continuously for 3 hours
  2. Avoid reading The Financial Times for 2 days
  3. Withdraw bacon from the diet for 4 days
  4. Remove all mirrors from the house for 4 days
  5. Only shop at Asda or Tesco for 4 days
  6. Avoid operas for 7 days
  7. Place an embargo on news programmes for 7 days
  8. Only use public transport for 7 days
  9. Avoid exclusive restaurants for 10 days
  10. Avoid golf, squash or sailing for 10 days
  11. Prohibit visits to the home county for 10 days
  12. Administer a sprout sandwich once every 4 hours for 14 days
If all of these treatments are tried and the B0R1NG virus is still present, consult your nearest exorcist.  We haven't tried this method of eradication yet, but it's next on the list.  If you get there before us (which is highly likely as we'll be getting drunk this weekend), please drop us a line and let us know how it went*.  

Stay healthy.

*Exorcisms are carried out at your own risk. We hold no responsibility for broken beds, ruined crucifixes or stains to upholstery caused by demon vomit.

Friday, 17 May 2013

Any Questions?


This is the 99th post on our blog.  We toyed with the idea of writing something about red balloons or ice creams with Flakes in them...but we figured that would be far too cheesy and probably wouldn't make for a particularly interesting post.  Unless you're heavily into those things.  In which case, we're sure there are dedicated websites out there for your specialist interests - and probably some very good psychiatrists. 

So having had a bit of a think, we decided that we'd use this post to promote - and get your involvement in - our 100th.  And what are we doing for our 100th post?  An interview!  Yes; an actual interview with questions and answers and everything that's normally associated with interviews and this sentence has gone on far too long without punctuation!  Phew.

And who, pray tell, has stupidly kindly agreed to attend this exclusive interview?  *Drum roll...* The one...the only...the sprout-scoffing, kitsch music-loving, pasta-dropping, Mick Jagger-imitating Man of the Roads himself: MR MARK BUCKLEY!  You thought it was going to be Huw Edwards, didn't you?  Sorry.  Can't do that.  I'm still scared of him.

Now - dear reader - this is where you come in.  We need your questions.  You can ask him anything.  Yes - ANYTHING.  For instance; you could ask him about the intricacies of juggling travel broadcasts for BBC Radio Wales, BBC Radio Oxford, BBC Radio Leicester, The Wave, Swansea Sound and Real Radio Wales.  You could ask him what it's like to step into Chris Needs' shoes and present a show to thousands of listeners (yes - he's done that several times and survived!).  You could ask him what size shoes he takes.  You could ask him what his favourite type of underwear is.  You could even ask him for advice...but I wouldn't recommend it. Yes - you really can ask him ANYTHING!

If you have any burning questions you'd like to put to Mark, send them via the usual channels.  I'll be taking questions for up to a week - so get in touch!

This could prove to be a highly insightful, entertaining and embarrassing enjoyable interview.  It'll be what you make it...

SO GET ASKING!
x

Monday, 13 May 2013

On the Road Again!

Hello, folks!

It's been a while since we last posted a video, hasn't it?  See, my DSLR is in dire need of a good clean.  Poor Auntie Pentax has some nasty dust spots on her sensor.  While this is fine for photos (it's pretty easy to press a magic button or three and edit them out), it makes for very annoying video footage...so she's been having a well-earned rest from being stuck to Minty's dash.

That, however, left us in a bit of a quandary.  We had no means by which to bring you with us on our trips around Wales.  After quite a bit of deliberation, we decided to get our mitts on a Sony Bloggie Sport:


We gave Bloggie his first proper run on Sunday.  It was impromptu, unscripted and very, very wet...

...and we suggest that you don't watch it if you're sensitive to rather naughty words!  Samuel was there.  What more can we say.


Monday, 8 April 2013

Proper Road Names - The List!


Roads.  We've seen a lot of roads.  Some straight, some not so straight; some smooth and some so bumpy that we've lost fillings.  Lots and lots of roads.  Roads can get boring.

Which is why we started giving them proper names.  A letter and a few numbers don't give you any idea of the road's character - it doesn't tell you if the road is a nice drive, if it's busy, if it's full of roadworks...and neither do the names we've given them.  Sorry about that.

But still; it's fun!  When we're out and about, we like to bestow a little bit of personality on the roads we frequent...and even those we don't.  We even take great care when we name them.  It's not just a random name that we unceremoniously pluck out of the air - oh no - it's a name based on the attributes of that very road.  It could be based on its start and end points.  It could be a name generated from the places it passes through or it could be a landmark along the way.  For instance - the A477 is called Jeremy.  Why?  Because it passes through Sageston.  What's the connection?  Jeremy - Jeremy Paxman - Paxo - Stuffing - SAGEston and onion!  See?  Simple.  Kind of.

We've even been known to name roads directly after individuals.  The A4050 in Barry is called Derek in homage to Derek Brockway - famous son of Barry.  At least that one was pretty straight-forward.  Have you had a named road after you?  Peruse our list and find out...!

A55 - Dominic
A487 - Simpson
A470 - Pablo
A548 - Boat
A477 - Jeremy
A478 - Roy
A547 - Alfie
A4087 - Abraham
A4139 - Chopper
A493 - Nigel
A4076 - Hitler
A4120 - Helga
A4159 - Sue
A44 - John
A481 - Brian
A485 - Owen
A482 - Simon
A40 - Jeff
A48 - Lido
A484 - Brandy
A483 - Otto
A496 - Samuel
A494 - Julie
A476 - Hanky
A458 - Krakatoa
A489 - Donna
A4221 - Wendy
A4242 - Geraint
A4118 - Sim
A499 - Declan
A4119 - Peggy
A4050 - Derek
A4232 - Mohammad
A4054 - Martina
A465 - Andy
B4518 - Elliott
B4332 - Rose
B4333 - Perry
B4567 - Mainwaring
B4337 - George
B4338 - Mac
B4569 - Chris
B4404 - Elton
B4405 - Obama
B4329 - Muffin
B4520 - Judas
B4353 - Ceri
B4413 - Tom
B4568 - Egbert
B4265 - Tim
M4 - Agnes

Now you've had a look - can you explain any of the road names?  There's a reason behind most of them - and if you know where the road goes, you stand a chance of figuring it out!  Plus...do you have any suggestions of roads we should visit and name?  All we need is a start point and an end point, and we might just take a trip along your road of choice to ceremoniously anthropomorphise it in our own, inimitably sectionable way.

If you fancy taking a punt at explaining any of the above, and if you're right, you could win a poo bag!  Seriously...we give poo bags out as prizes.  We send them 1st class with a personalised card.  Just ask @AnnParkes2

Get in touch via the usual channels if you want to have a go.  Use those methods to share your suggestions, too!  In fact, we're not fussy.  You can get in touch with us about anything - we like to chat about stuff.  Especially pineapples.  And buckets.

*Meep Meep!*

Monday, 18 March 2013

Oil Be Damned


With well over 100,000 miles on the clock and every country of the United Kingdom under his drive belt, Monty is proving himself to be a fabulous car.

However, he's recently been a bit poorly.

On Friday morning, Coyote noticed a touch of oil on the tarmac of Traffic Towers.  He didn't think too much of it; after all, Monty had enjoyed a full service the day before.  It was probably just something settling in - or maybe they'd overfilled him a bit.

So he drove up to HQ as usual on Friday with nothing untoward happening.  No smoke, no clunking, no engine falling out onto the M4 spraying bits of gnarled metal across the carriageway...it looked like all was going to be just fine.  But no.

After being parked outside the cottage for a while, it was evident that there was a substantial oil leak.  Monty was bleeding!  While Coyote slept after a grinding early shift, I wriggled underneath to have a better look.  There wasn't anything obviously wrong with the underside; so I slipped a couple of trays underneath to see just how much oil he was losing.

It rained that night and we woke the following morning to see a beautiful rainbow.  Normally we would've been quite pleased to see such vibrant colours...but it's not quite the same when the rainbow is trickling out from under your car.

We decided to play it safe and stay local - so we drove to Machynlleth to pick up some bits and pieces.  Cheese Strings, mainly.  When we walked back to the car after exiting the supermarket, it was evident that Monty was in a bad way.  The oil was dripping out of him like snot drips out of a primary school kid's nose in a winter playground.  We needed to get some oil.

Off to Tuffin's we trundled - where we bought 2 litres of juice to try and top Monty up.  We were only in the shop a matter of minutes, but came out to see oily footprints all over the car park.  Uh oh.



There was only one thing for it.  We didn't know what was wrong...but we knew a man who would.  A very nice man.  Yes, a Very Nice Man. It was time to call the men in yellow.


While our knight in fluorescent jacket made his way from Shrewsbury (about 60 miles away) to rescue us, Coyote went and bought him a coffee and a Mars Bar - he's thoughtful like that - and I entertained myself by making oily flower pictures in the car park.  It was 4 degrees and chucking it down; but we didn't care.  We just wanted Monty to live!

Eventually, the Very Nice Man - thank you, Andrew! - arrived and shoved his head under the bonnet:


After a lot of tweaking, tinkering, glaring, revving and dabbing, it was concluded that the oil filter - which, remember, had only been fitted the previous day - was leaking profusely.  Apparently that's what can happen when a spurious part is fitted in place of the genuine, made-for-the-purpose part that you expect and pay for.

Thankfully, the Very Nice Man managed to twist the oil filter on much tighter than it should've needed and the leak appeared to stop.  

Coyote drove back to Cardiff this morning without incident, but he'll be calling the garage that 'serviced' Monty to have a select few words in their shell-likes.

Hopefully, they'll admit the error of their ways and put things right.  If not, I dread to think what's going to happen.  I'm not saying that he or I will do anything rash...but Limmy might.  Yes - our mascot Limmy the SheepHog.  You should've seen him when a Freeloader took Monty's wing mirror off.  He was chuntering in Gaelic, foaming at the mouth and everything!  I've advised Coyote to keep an eye on him if he has to return to the garage any time soon.  

SheepHog bites can be nasty.



With much gratitude to @AA_Members