Oh Christ, I'm a crappy journalist

I almost had a heart failure last night. I found myself watching Channel 4 News, which was bad enough, when I heard Jon Snow announce that the IRA had caused outrage (again) by saying they would 'shoot' the murderers of Robert Mugabe.
"WHAT!" I cried. "Mugabe's dead! When the hell did that happen, why didn't I know? I'm a shite journalist! And why do the IRA want to 'shoot' his assassins? They're heroes!" After I calmed down and took the time to watch the footage of 'Mugabe's' widow, I realised she was white...and Irish.
The illusion was over. I felt even more of a fool. Robert McCARTNEY. Woah, I know about that, it happened ages ago. That's ok then. Is it? Not really... this guy is dead, he was innocent, and me and my housemate had just spent the last ten seconds laughing. At our own foolishness, of course, but laughing nonetheless.
What the IRA were offering was not a solution but a quick, easy escape route for themselves so they could feel better without truly vindicating McCartney's widow. A high profile court case was not what the IRA needed, but equally breaking the ceasefire agreement wasn't going to help anyone. It's lucky Mrs. McCartney wasn't looking for a quick fix to the situation.
It all ended on a high, though, when my housemate, who is also a Journalist and so will remain nameless, piped up after the story: "Who's Robert Mugabe?"