How The News Lies The Flying Frisby - money, markets and more

I am experimenting again with a video this Sunday morning. (Podcast listeners can still get just the audio). Enjoy :)
It was August 2018. Brexit Derangement Syndrome was only just starting to kick in, though the effort to derail it was underway. In comedy circles, I still was not talking very openly about having voted for Brexit—it would be another six months before I wrote 17 Million F Offs.
I was doing a show at the Edinburgh Fringe, my financial gameshow.
Now something happens to a performer at the Fringe. There are so many shows and so much competition that you will do (almost) anything to get publicity and draw attention to your show. The Fringe is a distillation of the entertainment industry; all the best things about it and the worst, all the highs and lows, seem to get magnified there. My PR man texted me and asked if I wanted to do a short spot about Brexit and comedy for Channel 4 News. I said yes. He said to go to the Pleasance at 5pm. They wanted someone who voted Leave.
I met the film crew there, and the presenter— I have no idea what his name was—was a very nice, very charming young Englishman in his early 30s. University-educated, probably public school, made me feel very at ease. We found a little alcove, and our interview began.
“In a comedy club, what do you say when heckled about Brexit?” he asked me.
Now there are three types of comedy gigs. One is where the audience has come to see you; two is when they have come to see comedy (not necessarily you); and three, the worst type of gig, is when they neither come to see you nor comedy.
Comedy clubs mostly come under category two (unless you are doing a solo show).
I answered the question truthfully: “I MC a lot of nights. My job is to create a warm and friendly atmosphere. Audiences in comedy clubs are fairly mixed. So, I tend to avoid talking about Brexit, as you risk losing half the room, which is not good for the night.”
“Sure, but what would you say if someone heckled you about Brexit?”
“Well, I don’t talk about it, so they don’t.”
“But if you did?”
“But I don’t.”
This went round in circles for a bit. Then he changed his approach. “And if someone heckled you about voting Leave?”
“Well, they don’t because I don’t talk about it.”
“No, but what if they did?”
“Well, they don’t. As I say, in a regular comedy club, with a mixed crowd, if you come down very heavily on one side, you risk losing half the room. I’m the host. I don’t like to do that. It might be different if I was doing a show specifically about it, but I’m not.”
“Well, what if you were?”
“Well, I’m not. And if I was doing a show about voting leave, I doubt many remainers would come.”
“But what if they did?”
It just kept going round and round in circles. I thought I was being reasonably articulate about the need to be diplomatic in a mixed room if you are the host, and I made the same point several times, each time phrasing it slightly differently, but he just was not having it. He kept coming back to this same question.
“But if someone heckled you about voting Leave, what would you say?”
Eventually, somewhat exasperated, I said, “Oh, I don’t know. ‘Whatever, loser.’ Something like that.”
He smiled and quickly drew the interview to a close. We parted company with, apparently, good will expressed. I had spent probably five minutes explaining the need to be diplomatic and a microsecond with that last line.
Later that day, I watched the clip from Channel 4 News. Guess which part of the interview they used?
“Leaver comedian calls people who voted Remain losers,” ran the headline of the vid on the Channel 4 site, or some such (I can’t find the vid now to quote it accurately).
The only clip from the interview they used was me saying, “Whatever, loser,” even though it was totally misrepresentative of the rest of the interview. Then in the comments beneath, I remember reading a load of remarks along the li