Alan Coren, author, broadcaster, columnist, take your pick, has died aged 69. Coren has a small place in my heart as the first grown-up humourist I read, probably when I was in my early teens. Until then I liked funny stuff, of course, but my definition of what was funny was, well, that of someone in their early teens. Coren had a lovely relaxed writing style that could carry you along for several pages before you realized that he was being on occasion quite venomous (though never unjustly). You can sample a few of his pieces at The Times.

Text of my complaint to the BBC about this article.

The thinking behind the photo on this story seems to be “Oh, Maori, slap in the picture of a funny brown man with tattoos on his face sticking out his tongue.” From memory, I don’t recall articles about the army featuring pictures of red-jacketed soldiers beating Indian protesters in the 19th century, or pieces on the civil rights campaign illustrated with pictures of a wide-eyed Aunt Jemima crying “lawks massa!”

The Maori people have a culture stretching back over 1,000 years, including arts, language, ritual and religion. Surely something in all of that could be found that doesn’t just fall back on a stereotype? They formed a battalion to fight in WWII – why not have a picture of Moana-Nui-a-Kiwa Ngarimu who earned a VC in the war? Even a picture of a Maori rugby player wouldn’t rest so easily on preconceived ideas of ‘the natives’.

The picture shown isn’t inherently racist; it’s an aspect of Maori culture as valid as any other, and one to be proud of. But its use and overuse, particularly in an article that is about migration patterns, not ritual displays, walks perilously close to that line.

There’s being strong, and then there’s being able to put it to practical use, like in Japanese game shows.

Notice outside the army recruiting center in a recent episode of Family Guy:

We’ve been trying to work out something to do to celebrate our first 4th of July back in England. Naturally we don’t get the day off, so time is limited, so we’ve decided that ‘smores will be our tradition. This isn’t as easy as you might imagine – Graham Crackers aren’t available here, neither is Hershey chocolate (thankfully) and most of the chocolate we have is sold in thicker pieces, and marshmallows are not too common.

But I think the effort will be worth it to help Sam with his incomprehension of the whole thing (he asked me today whether my aunt, whose home is a mile away, lives in England) and Lauren with her need to eat every 38 minutes.

(For those of you who read my family blog, yes this is a duplicate – I woke up at 5 this morning and am already too tired to think more)