Dialogue: Can't squeal and pay the pimp

By SANDY BURGHAM

As kids we all hated the tittle-tattler who squealed to the teacher. Even the teacher would chastise the tittle-tattler himself for telling tales.

What a pity this doesn't carry on into adulthood where those who squeal are not only paid to do it but assuaged of guilt. So although I will fess up to kind of fascinated by the whole Mark Todd fiasco at the same time I felt a little disappointed in myself for taking such an interest and therefore actively supporting the dirty tactics of both the pimp and the newspaper that paid him.

Media and public figures have an unhealthy co-dependent relationship, based on mutual manipulation. One of the unfortunate results is that the public has a distorted view on how life works. Media manipulation is a game that even the inexperienced have a shot at - the media being the first phone call you make when you are in a spot of bother. So if say you're sent a barrage of dirty text messages by a fat Australian cricketer having a bad hair day, going to the media rather than the police would seem to be the natural response (and even better you can get paid for it)

And while the notion of a politician having had an affair with a teenager during his middle age is seriously disturbing, I wish the motives of her media hungry mother, herself no saint, were a little more clear. How is this helping her daughter? Do the public really have "a right to know" something yet unproven?

While the Bill and Monica soap did have relevance to the lives of consumers because he was a leader of the nation, preaching one set of values while practicing another, the personal exploits of sporting heroes should not be our concern. But then of course New Zealanders consider their sporting heroes as saints rather than flawed individuals like themselves.

If Mark Todd were a danger to society then that would indeed be news for public scrutiny. But while his private life may be suprising, to date his public contribution to sport has been nothing but positive. Some suggest he should be stripped of his national honours forgetting that any accolades received were due to his sporting achievements versus his "clean living" habits. If it's a matter of taste frankly I was more disturbed about the revelation that he was drinking pink Lindauer on the evening in question. I mean, I know we all did on New Years Eve, but if I was a wealthy Olympic Equestrian I would surely go for a more elaborate tipple.

Perception is reality and the public live in a bizarre fantasy that they actually know the people they read about. Diana is a classic example. They still mourn the passing of this close friend. And on the basis of a Bell Tea ad and news clips showing him jumping fences on a horse, the public ascribed Mark Todd a simply elegant, yet bordering on dull personality and lifestyle. They never actually met the guy but assumed he'd enjoy a life not unlike the imagined life of another stranger Sir Ed Hillary - a lot of time relaxing in private libraries flicking through pictorial books sipping on sherry. And now with the sex drugs and rock and roll lifestyle allegations instead of thinking, great the guy is actually interesting, the public can't help but feel a little let down. As if they've been kept in the dark.

These days it's near on impossible to find anyone under the age of 50 with a so-called clean slate. Most people I know have stories of the "god, I remember one night" variety that if they were more famous would make great tabloid fodder. Like Prince Charles' unfortunate tampon rave to Camilla, how many other people have said things in the throes of passion that certainly don't bear up to close scrutiny when transcribed. It all sounds so bad when read aloud over the cornflakes in the cold light of day.

Squealing on rich and famous tall poppies injects power and excitement into lives of the ordinary that will only ever be able to feed off the crumbs from their victim's tables. And sadly while these powerful and wealthy victims must hate the tabloids, the pimps and the paparazzi, all three only exist to fulfil the voracious appetite of the great unwashed.