A White Knight in the South East
Most of it was, of course, about the strike of public sector workers today.
Justin case you don't know about this, basically what happened was, the banks bankrupted themselves and lost so much money that poor impoverished Fred Goodwin of the Royal Bank of Scotland only got a bonus of about a grand a day, the poor poppet. (You may hear him referred to as Sir Fred Goodwin but when I'm in charge he won't be so I am unsirring him now, to save time.)
Anyway, the Government decided that the only way to get this money back was to nick it from the public workers' pensions, so that they will have to work more years before they retire and get less dosh at the end of it.
And the workers didn't like this - and who could blame them? - so they went on strike.
There was extensive reporting about it on the screen as I waited to work with some (excellent) radiography and audiology students.
But because the screen has its volume turned down, it had that automatic subtitles thingy turned on so that everything that was said appeared on the screen. When one person spoke, it was in white - - when another replied, it was in orange. That kind of thing.
But unfortunately, the subtitling couldn't really keep up with what was on the screen and it kept entertaining me by getting things very wrong.
"The most widespread strike for regeneration" it kept telling me. Great idea! That sounds like the kind of thing this country needs! Regeneration!
Except that what it meant was "The most widespread strike for a generation".
The inaccurate subtitling renders everything that was said slightly disjointed, and a tad comical. And when we saw Prime Minister David Cameron talking in Parliament, it came out as complete rubbish.
Oh - - wait - - -
Anyway it made me think of a suggestion I read that whenever any kind of ridiculous slanging-match is going on in Parliament it should have the comedian Benny Hill's "chase" theme played over it.
Finally we moved on from Parliament, and it looked as though finally, Britain's saviour had arrived.
"There will be a White Knight in the South East" said the announcer.
Hurrah! I pictured the White Knight on his magnificent horse, galloping along, waving his sword to rescue us from Fred Goodwin and the wunch of bankers.
Then I realised with a sinking heart that this was not the case. The television had simply moved on to the weather forecast, and was promising us some blustery and rainy weather after sunset - - a wild night in the South East. Damn.