PAUL:	Our glorious summer fades into 
	memory ... the food fishery is 
	over, the turnip crop is 
	coming in now, the dogberries 
	are burning on their bushes.  
	Jelly jars are jammed with 
	preserves and pickles.  Root 
	cellars are swept out, birch 
	junks are split.  Spring lambs 
	fall into the winter larder.

	The September October 	
	crossover season is upon us, 
	the autumn is here.  New radio 
	shows burst into the ether, 
	television?s waste land 
	cringes neath the spotlight of 
	critical observation, and we 
	once more are taught our 
	yearly lesson.  ?All things 
	come to pass.?
	
	And that was to be my topic 
	today, that everything is 
	unfolding as it usually does.
	
	But then I hear the shattering 
	rumour that mega media 
	masticator Tubby Black plans 
	on forking the grand old 
	broadcaster into his maw.
	
	Is it to be that the ?time has 
	come? for the BCN ?  Has 
	public broadcasting so quickly 
	become an anachronism?
	
	A shiver ripples down the 
	spine of this, your reporter, 
	sitting in his boxy studio in 
	the big blue broadcast 
	building that was once an 
	abattoir, and may soon become 
	one again. 
	
	The past becomes the present. 
	Are we the chickens and kine 
	on a new processing line ?
	
	Change is inevitable, but this 
	kind of change ? Is everything 
	for sale ?  What price freedom 
	... what price radio ?
	
	Just a few of the queries that 
	are stumping your humble 
	public servant.  And should be 
	stumping you, too.