Nature red(top) in tooth and claw

If you live in London I expect you've read the Metro. A free newspaper given out to commuters in the morning. Nothing too demanding, a bit of news, the odd fact, a reasonably entertaining letters page. Anyway, up until about a fortnight ago there was a glaring gap in the market - something for the weary evening traveller to read, screw up and throw away. Two rival franchises decided to try to fill this niche at the same time, and the result is anarchy. Its war out there. They say that the first casualty of war is the truth - well, not in this one. It was me.

The protagonists in this shabby tale are The Londoner and London Lite. They offer virtually identical products; a handful of celebrity-led 'news' items, some invented letters from 'readers', a few painfully contrived columns, vast reams of advertising and some sport copied from yesterday's Standard - in short, a colossal waste of paper, ink, money and time. London needs these like it needs another great fire or plague pandemic, but this doesn't matter to the publishing oligarchs who churn out this trash.

The problem is that this town ain't big enough for the both of them. Its a fight to the death and only the strongest will survive. In a desperate effort to get a competitive edge, each paper has hired a band of thugs kitted out in be-logoed t-shirts to distribute their unwanted drivel to the masses. This is how it works; one sets up a little stand, handing out papers to all and sundry. Vendors from the enemy then sneak up and stand about 10 feet away to intimidate the punters into taking their paper instead. The competition is ferocious.

A nadir was reached earlier on today. I was ambling towards the Tube when I found myself standing between a pair of these pushy nobs. Hmmm... who to choose? The Londoner rep, complete with a stall, was a small Chinese lady, while London Lite had gone with a beefy, heavily-jowled man. Both were handing out papers at a furious and prodigious rate; I decided to go for the safer option and take the lady's wares. However, this meant I had to pass jowl-face. As I brushed past he gave me 'that look'; that I'd let him down, betrayed him and his family, and who would feed his wife and children now? So I swiftly changed tack and took his paper after all.

But now I had to walk past Chinese lady to get to the tube. Polite and demure she may have looked, but the gloves are off in the Paper War. She angrily snatched the paper from my hands. Spitting venom, she snarled

"You don't want to read that fucking shit"

She then thrust her own tawdry rag into my quivering hands.

Aghast, I turned and fled to the safety of the Underground, with all the dignity I could muster.

Its ugly out there. Sun Tzu said that "all war is deception"; well this isn't - its naked, raw aggression. I don't care who wins the fucking Paper War, just so long as its settled soon and with minimum bloodshed. Perhaps London Lite and The Londoner will meet for peace talks, realise that they both produce crap that nobody wants and agree to fold. Either way I'm keeping my head down till it gets sorted. I can't risk running into that Chinese woman again. If I'd been reading The Daily Star she might have self-combusted.


This week's recommendations:
We are shit. Humiliated 3-0 by a bunch of Italians in a fetching pink strip, we now haven't scored for six and a half hours. West Ham to go down at a frighteningly short 15-2 (Bet365).
My last golf recommendation wasn't so good .. but here's a winner. Wayne 'Hawaii 501' Mardle to win the PDC darts championship, each-way. A massive 50-1 (Betfred).