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BBC SEEKS PRIVATE FUNDING

The BBC’s Michael Peschardt, desperate to fund his creepy employer, pursues The Bulletin’s Tasmanian Tiger prize:

The bush is thick. It is hard to catch your step. The towering canopy of the eucalyptus trees blots out all but the faintest glow of moonlight.

I have come on this expedition to join Col Bailey and a group of friends on a tiger hunt ...

Australia’s leading news magazine, The Bulletin, is offering a $1m reward to anyone who can photograph a tiger and prove that the species still survives.

Not sure if the lawyers left it in, but my early draft of the prize rules specifically excluded “stumble-footed night-blind Englishmen” from those eligible for the reward. An earlier draft, which I’m aware was rejected, even promised “a beating sound and true” for any claimants so described. Stop hunting our land-beasts, BBC man!

Posted by Tim B. on 05/30/2005 at 09:46 AM

  1. Call me when someone offers me a millions bucks to stalk the wild sheilas of Australia’s beaches…

    Posted by richard mcenroe on 2005 05 30 at 11:20 AM • permalink

  2. What are they going to use for bait? I hear that Tasmanian tigers really go for Frosted Flakes. “They’re GRRREAT!”

    Posted by ErnieG on 2005 05 30 at 12:04 PM • permalink

  3. “Our weatherbeaten guide gazes into the darkness of the impenetrable forest, and smiles wistfully as he gently caresses the roll of English fifty pound notes in his gnarled but sure hand….. ”

    Posted by Pedro the Ignorant on 2005 05 30 at 01:37 PM • permalink

  4. Pedro the Ignorant — Strangely, that bait works on the beaches, too.

    Posted by richard mcenroe on 2005 05 30 at 02:35 PM • permalink

  5. I have come on this expedition to join Col Bailey and a group of friends on a tiger hunt ...

    And cue the nature program where John Cleese spent the whole episode stumbling through the jungle looking for lemurs without seeing a single one…

    Posted by richard mcenroe on 2005 05 30 at 05:59 PM • permalink

  6. One is reminded of an anecdote from the infamous ‘bodyline’ cricket tour of the 1930s.  When Douglas Jardine, the loathed captain of the English team, brushed a troublesome fly away from his face, a voice was heard from the crowd: “You leave our flies alone, Jardine”.

    Posted by cuckoo on 2005 05 30 at 06:32 PM • permalink

  7. Wasn’t this a Robert Benchley short story in the 1930’s: Submarining Down the Alimentary Canal with Gun and Camera?

    Posted by richard mcenroe on 2005 05 30 at 07:21 PM • permalink

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