Everything in moderation

Its not an easy life being a web editor. Okay so there's none of the danger of front-line combat or the hard work of construction, but it has it's moments.

I'm not talking the 5.30am starts six days a week, or even being on duty 24/7 - that's just the job. If you want to avoid the gut-wrenching feeling of being scooped you have to stay alert.
The price of inner peace is eternal vigilance.

Perhaps the toughest apsect is moderating all the comments that come in on our stories. On an ordinary day the flow of comments, although significantly higher than it was a year ago, is just about manageable by myself and a team of people here in the office.
But when a topic touches a nerve all hell breaks loose.

The campaign to keep the Nigerian family here in Plymouth is the greatest recent example of that, with more than 2,000 comments on the stories in a week, all requiring careful attention.
Usually I try to leave as many comments as possible untouched. I delete only where absolutely necessary and edit as little as I can.

But with this topic it grew more and more difficult through the week. There were the inevitable racist remarks, some of which were easy to spot, others of which required some thought.

Each comment required a bit of perspective, a few moments to stand back, set aside any personal thoughts on the situation and reflect on what the commenter was saying. Was it racist? Was I being oversensitive? Would other people view it as racist? Would a court of law view it as being likely to incite racial hatred?

Of course, in the end, we couldn't please everyone. Any comment which was edited or deleted sparked instant online retribution with claims that the Herald was twisting the story, trying to show more community support for the family than existed and repressing the views of the people of Plymouth.

In fact the majority of comments that were edited or deleted weren't down to racial views, but down to potentially libellous comments being made which could have landed the commenter in serious trouble.

On the other side those campaigning for the family came close to backing out of the debate, claiming the Herald's comment section had been taken over by the BNP who were using it to spread their propaganda. In the end they relented and I believe the debate was vital, healthy and a valuable contribution to the ongoing story. No-one can deny the passion of the campaigners or their opposition.

At the end of the day, as I say, we couldn't make everyone happy. But I think we probably upset most people an equal amount, which has to be some kind of victory.

Of course being web editor is as enjoyable as it is challenging, and despite the Gothic glower it even has me chuckling on occasion.

Take this morning for example, while updating our social network pages, I came across a friend request from Paranormal Devon, who wanted to join our happy band on MySpace.

The psychic investigators sent a personal message with their request 'didn't know you had an account on MySpace otherwise would have requested sooner.'

Not particularly psychic nor investigative.

Sorry Paranormal Devon, couldn't resist, it just tickled my funny bone. Welcome to the family.

Herald on MySpace

Herald on Bebo

Herald on Facebook

Herald group on Facebook

What's in a name?

So we've reached the stage of trying to decide on a name for the baby. Our three year old has already chosen Lola for a girl and for a boy...Mr Bump.
We've decided we may not go with those options, and have drawn up a shortlist, as well as digging out the old shortlist we had four years ago.
We showed it to father-in-law last weekend and he hated them all...so we must be doing something right.
I've kind of settled on Delta as a perfect first name for a girl. Our first is called Trinity as she is the third member of the family (among other reasons) and Delta would fit perfectly with the name/number system as it is the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet (pretentious, εγώ?)
We are having trouble deciding on a middle name though. Trinity's middle name is Africa, as that is where she was conceived, but three-bed-semi-in-Wimbledon doesn't have the same ring, much more suitable for a Womble.
We thought Delta Dawn, bit too American, then Delta Echo...but where do you stop Delta Echo Foxtrot Golf?
Boys names, a lot more difficult. I kind of settled on Seth, the third son of Adam and Eve in the Bible - the ancestor of Noah and hence the forefather of all mankind. Medieval lore has it that as Adam lay on his deathbed he sent Seth back into the Garden of Eden. Seth convinced the Archangel Michael to open the gates and once inside he collected three seeds from the Tree of Life. Those seeds were placed in Adam's mouth before he was buried and grew to become the trees that provided the wood for the three crosses on Golgotha. Not a bad name.
Of course father-in-law points out that Seth is also one of the Egyptian gods of the underworld, the Lord of Chaos and the god of people with red hair. Now death and chaos I can stomach..but gingers *shudder*
Personally I was more concerned people might think he was named after Seth Armstrong off of Emmerdale Farm. Then again I was named after Neil Armstrong so there's some connection there.
Obviously the internet is the best place to find baby names, and I've developed a new found respect for the Miwok tribes after coming across the name Tumu, meaning a deer thinking about eating wild onions. Now there's a word you need in your life. Much of the Miwok languages seem to be made up of similar concepts, the sound of a bears claws, the cry of a hen harrier while descending, the noise of a salmon in a slow-running stream. I think I might just go with Nigel.

Inner tubes and the rise of China

Is it just me or have babies got more expensive in the last four years? I'm guessing it's got something to do with the price of oil or possibly the rise of industrialised China.
I only mention it because Saturday saw the first of what is likely to be many trips to Mothercare, now that the latest addition to the clan is well on the way.
We dug the old pushchair out of the loft to find all three of the tyres were flat, and no amount of pumping would get them to stay up for long. Long enough to get to the library then half way back before having to physically drag the fully laden beast, kicking and screaming, along the mean streets of Devon.
So the kind lady in Mothercare advised us that after three years the inner tubes may have perished. "Hmph", says I.
"How much?" says the heavily laden wife. To which we are informed that inner tubes will cost us £17 each. "Argh", says I, wandering off to look at the new pushchairs mumbling something about it being cheaper to buy a new one.
The idea of buying a new buggy deflated faster than three-year-old inner tubes when I started flicking over the price tags and finding that 649.99 wasn't the model number but the price.
Fortunately back at home I logged on to eBay and managed to find three inner tubes, plus delivery, for well under £10. Derek, the man who will supply them, assures me they are now on the way.
I'm sure having the first one wasn't this expensive. Must be the oil thing. I wonder if you can get babies to run on used cooking oil.