Karma chameleon

It's funny the feelings you get from watching crap Monday night TV. Well, maybe it's not so crap. Got in a bit late after a post work drink with some lovely webfolk to watch the mighty Enders (hint, never tell the sub-crim barman that your wife's carrying another man's child, oh, but I do have more faith in vasectomies as a result) then this segued almost seamlessly into Airport - a programme I would never normally give the time of day but hey, it's nearly Christmas.

And it was an educational watch this evening. I was humbled first by the sheer dedication of Stuart (I think that's his name), who works in the Animal Something Unit -- the person they call when they reckon some poor creature's coming into Heathrow that perhaps shouldn't be. Watching him fight back the tears as he laid lots of dead chameleons to rest was quite sobering, although fortunately more alcohol was to hand.

But they don't die on a plane for no reason. Anyone who's thinking of getting a cute reptile for a pet, shame on you. And if you run a reptile sanctuary somewhere these guys are supposed to live, give this man a job! He Knows His Reptiles.

The illegal reptile story was cut with an illegal immigrant story, and that one was also well told, I think.

I have some natural sympathy with anyone who takes their chances on London as a place to make a better life -- not a place I'd choose, but then I have more of a choice. And once the fake credit cards and the fifteen different kinds of ID came out of the bin, I lost some of that sympathy. But not all of it.

Thank god for the BBC. They may not tell it like it is, but they do have a go sometimes.

joella