Journalisted

Picture the scene... Just another tired hack after a long flight. Standing in a sweaty immigration office, searching your mind for your best lines and watching a power mad official scan your 'nearly real' accreditation papers from an oh-so-friendly publication you know he reads and respects.

It's been a good two hours of unusual questioning mixed with the usual bureaucracy and it looks like you are on the edge of getting that much needed entry visa.

Suddenly the official in the uniform that's two sizes too small decides to plug your name into http://www.journalisted.com/ and you know all is lost.

Scratching your nose you slowly sneak a peak towards your nearest exit. Sleaving a damp forehead you calculate It would take about the same time to run to the door as it would for the greasier official to unclip the flap on his sidearm. Commonsense and rigid fear decide it's best you stay put.

You know only to well that as soon as your name is plugged into that god-forsaken database you are rumbled.

Story after story will scroll down the screen emblazoned with your byline and the ever-so-difficult-to-hide phrases like 'Fascist Regime' and 'Police State'. They will never let you in.

You watch as the border official repeatedly hits the keyboard, violently poking one key as if it's all down to how hard you hit it.

Giving up he reaches for the rubber stamp mumbling "Systems down."

You find it almost impossible to quell the smile erupting across your face.

WHAM!... the stamp hits a blank page and he hands you your passport.

"Thankyou!" you blurt.

"Yeah. " He says, almost disappointed as you leave through the two way doors..

"Welcome to England."

Some Bloggers Are Journalists. And some are not.

I just got an email from a friend working in Iraq. He's stuck in Mosul waiting for a helicopter to Kirkuk. Must have been months since I last heard from him.

I sent an email to him last night half expecting him to be locked in some farmhouse on the outskirts of Baghdad handcuffed to a bed. It's happened before. I don't expect him to be quite so lucky next time.

Anyway, he's not kidnapped, just delayed.

He's an old time 'proper' Journalist. He's mastered shorthand, always keeps his notebooks and is one of the finest writers I know.

He knows Arabic.

He files stories and photos for a Middle Eastern newspaper. He get's the job done. Well.

He told me he looked at my 'stuff' online and is not sure if he has been left behind. "It seems pretty interesting and weird and, well, very modern (there are things I've never heard of..)

We came from the same daily newspaper in Northamptonshire and spent our last paid holiday on assignment in Egypt and Sudan before quitting work together.

We then took different paths. I don't think he realises how those few times working together influenced me. Thanks to him I know there is a right way of doing things. I may not choose that way myself but I know it's there.

In amongst my manic postings on multimedia platforms, occasionally there is something a little more polished, a little more in depth. Often I rely on the viewer or reader to bring their opinion, thoughts, conversation to the mix. Mostly I spew content into the streams without tagging, captions or any kind of context. Maybe I see documenting as more of an art form than providing information or an official record.

I have all the tools I need and more. Perhaps if I thinned out my social media toolkit I would solidify my content. Less of a scatter gun more of a missile.

Still, I am glad I took this path and am sure it will be an amalgamation of social technology and the 'old ways' that shape the future of Journalism.

If my friend knew that what I did was easy, he'd be unstoppable. Any journalist with an iota of imagination can pick up these tools and apply them to the way they work. The benefits are massive. As long as we don't loose sight of our truths and see those truths as something to be shared on mass whatever the repercussions.

Maybe I will show him. A decent journalist works for the good of us all. A great one needs protecting and allows us a datum. It reminds us that some bloggers are journalists. And some are not.

I mostly blog at OurManInside.com