(Somehow, this never made it to the blog. Now it has.)
Who could not be spellbound
by it?
The rescue of 33 Chilean
miners trapped underground for 69 days.
The wonders of modern
television bought it to us – and a couple of medico bozos, a Rudd-clone
Chilean president and a nagging social conscience ruined it for us.
At first, watching the drama
unfold, I gave heart-felt thanks that the feed was coming from Sky UK and was
not provided by the chuckleheads populating Sky’s Australian counterpart.
Unfortunately, the dulcet
tones of the British Sky anchors were supplemented by a couple of home grown
chuckleheads: a doctor and a psychologist.
We watched with bated
breath, hour after hour, while the rescue team test-drove the rescue capsule
and the Sky mining expert intoned about the dangers involved, even though he confused
the punters with his geological geometry.
“It was drilled by a rigid
rod, though there appears to be an 11 degree angle in the shaft, which of
course, equates to a one degree incline: clearly they are concerned about the cable
rubbing on that 11 degree curve, though of course it equates to 1 degree – and
I’ll leave it to the mathematicians watching to work that out.”
Okay, there may be problems
with 1 degree curve that may be an 11 degree curve – the mathematicians at home
know the answer, but Sky didn’t bother to ask any of them that answer.
What Sky did bother to do,
unfortunately, was to ask Sarah, “our medical expert”, what she thought.
What Sarah thought,
apparently, was that the broadcast needed more drama, as if the rescue of 33
miners trapped underground for two months was the mining equivalent of a Volvo:
dull, colourless and extremely boring.
We are told by the Sky
anchors that the first miner to egress was chosen because he was calm,
professional and phlegmatic.
AND THERE HE IS! The calm,
professional and phlegmatic miner, specifically chosen for his calm, phlegmatic
professionalism, is ON THE SURFACE! And, by god, he is calm, professional and
phlegmatic.
While the rescued miner was being calm and phlegmatic, Sarah was having kittens in the studio: “Amazing”, says Sarah. “He
is so calm and professional. This is why this gentleman was chosen.”
The second miner, we are
told, is the extrovert of the trapped group.
AND THERE HE IS! The second
miner is out! He hugs his wife and hands out chunks of rock to all and sundry before rushing off for an MCG Bay 13-style ‘Chile, Chile, Chile: Oi, Oi Oi’, high-fiving lap of honour.
This extroverted man, we are told, was dubbed The Presenter because he dominated news reports
sent to the surface. The suspicion that he recognised a money-making opportunity PR opportunity when he saw one lurks, but is best left undeveloped.
Just a quick refresher: the
first ‘gentleman’ was chosen because he was ‘calm, phlegmatic and
professional’. The second ‘gentleman’ was known as “The Presenter”, an
extrovert. A known exuberant gentleman.
And what does Sarah make of
this: “I’m very concerned about this reaction. I’m wondering what drugs these
gentlemen have been given”.
Having said that, Sarah is “pleased
with how well groomed the second gentleman looked”.
Sarah, and her psychologist
side-kick Mark, are very concerned about the disorders these gentleman may be
suffering.
“The trip in this relatively
small, claustrophobic capsule will be so daunting for these men.
Claustrophobia, post traumatic stress, psychic numbing after the emergence,
hint to the possibility of avoidance behaviour, the idea of going underground
may be highly evocative for him, what drugs?”.
This was hard to take coming
from two people who’s, most likely, only underground experience has been
catching the tube from their plush London office
to their plush London
digs.
The truth is that Chilean
miners, like their counterparts everywhere else, are tough and phlegmatic
hombres who would view a 630m journey in an escape capsule through a rock shaft
in much the same way as your average office Johnny would view a 30-storey lift
journey from the ground floor to their office.
Probably the only difference
would be that the miners wouldn’t panic if the lift got stuck on the 15th
floor.
Riveting viewing, marred by commentary best presented at the bottom of a 630m mine shaft.
Finally, the moment that everyone, if not waiting for, was forced to endure: the Chiliean president's appearance.
Piggybacking on the efforts
of everybody else, El Presidente – with Mrs El Presidente prominent at his side and presidential teeth prominent at the front - made it is his mission to extract as much political mileage out of
the rescue as possible.
El Presidente tried to give
the impression that he, personally, had dug the rescue shaft with a tea-spoon
and hauled up the miners in a mixing bowl attached to a reel of Chilean cotton
spun by his wife.
Who knew that Bruce Hawker
was proficient in Spanish??
Lastly, the social
conscience. Only a churl would begrudge the Chilean miners their rescue. Like
everybody else, I hoped for a miracle and it was duly delivered.
One can’t help thinking
though, that the thousands of children forced into slavery in mines of all
colours and hues on the African continent – the Congo springs to mind - and,
indeed, in some South American countries, wouldn’t mind the same effort being
put into rescuing them.
Unfortunately, there aren’t
a lot of tv ratings in that gig, so maybe they’ll have to wait a bit longer.
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