Dear editor
I’ve lived in Oxford for over four years now, and I am a regular reader of the Oxford Mail, although I still have to see your much vaunted “loyalty card” tip up in the post, as promised when I first subscribed. At least the paper turns up every day now.
I find your columns very amusing and sometimes informative too, but that’s not why I am writing this letter.
I’ve been a journalist myself since I was a kid, and have edited a number of publications myself, but I am alarmed that a “world class city” with “world class toilets” and academics to boot has a daily newspaper with so many typographic errors.
Every day when I scan the pages of the Oxford Mail, I detect typo after typo, almost suggesting to me and no doubt to your other readers that you need a good sub-editor – sometimes it occurs to me that you don’t have one.
Editors pass pages – I’ve done it myself many a time, and if the subs don’t pick up the typos the editor and the news editor surely should see them. I realise that in these cash strapped days costs are high and revenues are low, but my senses are assaulted by your abuse of the English language, daily.
Sincerely
Mike Magee ♥
How embarrassing. Something’s gone wrong
Oxford Mail have been notified – you’ll be getting this sorted up as soon as you can, I reckon…
Meanwhile, in the land of shire world class innocence…, Nermin (what luverly prose he doth not speak) hath well found hisself in a bit of a “chemichal” misspellin pickle on this page: http://news.techeye.net/science/bacteria-found-to-protect-itself-by-producing-gold
An Editor, an editor, me kingdom for the horse he rode in on!
So don’t you feel right left undone that Oxford Mail is no fit butcher’s hook for bluepenciling in not publishing your letter. The mighty Titan, TechEye, nevermore accepts me comments neither. What a sad state that I have no say, but loyalty binds me.
I caught one of your video interviews on ChannelBiz UK. You did quite well, I think, and {I think} that all of this digital ink is obscuring your performance art potential whenever you strike a pose. Mike, you may be in the wrong medium altogether and be in need of a new vehicle. ‘The camera does not lay’ as they say.
It is so dear_ digital ink. ChannelBiz UK is too stodgy for me baser preoccupancies. But, by jive, ChannelBiz UK wilt take me comments. No doubt, you’ve seen ’em some o’ me more frequent blatherings upon that site. I reckon, and you wilt straightforth report me abuses to his editorship,
King Richard te IIIrd.
Treasoune! an High Sedation! Now is the Winter of our dis content made glorious Summer by these bones of York whom they may have whenever they can pries ’em from Leicester’s cold dead fingers. God say amen!
Roll out the bones and raise up your pitcher thrice hip hip no shoulder shouldre. Carry on.
Yes well you do have a pint, or should that be point?
We are on channeleye.co.uk the noo….
Mad until it comes to spelling I guess.
Well done! John, the OxMail is full of errors. This is just a blog. Get real!
Yes you are right. I was being real at the moment I posted. but of course that moment of real has long gone. Real is something i once thought was something. As in get real. Now I don’t see a big real only lots of little reals none of which I get not being my real. I only get my own real. Like I guess I only ever did. But hey, you replied :D
Sic Transit Gloria Mundi!
Even Pope Benedict XVI gets real. Like when he said that “the Lord seemed to sleep.” Perhaps He still rests on the sabbath.
Mike is such a magnanimous chap. The manifestations of the mind are like a river, a seed, a lamp, a cloud, the wind; the Universal Mind in its voraciousness to store up everything, will flow into and bob us all. How do we know we’ve pushed onto the terra firma, or has everyone behind us pushed us? A person in contact with a neighbor is in a lower state of energy than if he were alone. To exist both breaks the surface tension, yet maintains the impetus of nature. So we don’t blame nature for not knowing us better. This blog is a vast understatement (Zen maybe?) of Mad Mike Magee, and that is an enigma in itself.
Pot. Kettle. Black. That is all.