Run with Eric [Search results for America] 

In August, only a couple of weeks after starting this blog, I wrote a post called 'Electioneering'. Still one of my better efforts, it discussed negative campaigning in America and that moment when David Miliband decided to imply to a throng of nonplussed people that he was going to force out Gordon Brown.

Writing today, I notice some similarities, hence the title 'Electioneering (Part Two)'. It's interesting to see how things can develop: then, Labour looked dead in the water and Brown on his way out; now, he's resurgent and may be able to help them out of this hole yet. And then, John McCain was engaging in some full-scale negative campaigning, doing everything in his power to weaken Obama's reputation; now, he has lost the election and made an admirably humble concession speech.

Here's to change.

Historic black man wins historic black election to become historic black President
The Emperor's New Glenrothes
Indy hit by the wind of change
Misleading Headline Of The Week

Congratulations to Barack Obama, then, for winning the Presidential election (he's reading this). He's already inspired millions – to vote, apart from anything else – and we can only hope he is able to fulfil his promises and lead America and the world into recovery. By the way, did you know he's black?

The BBC's live election coverage was, on the whole, pretty good, although Jeremy Vine's little touchscreen thing analysing individual counties was wholly unnecessary. Who does he think he is, Peter Snow? His brother, Tim, would have been better. Still, the coverage was mostly good. One thing I did find very annoying, though, was David Dimbleby's insistence on bringing the election back to race.

Now I'm as fully aware as anyone else of the importance of Obama's race in the context of the election.

It shouldn't be important, but it is – and yes, I was worried he would lose to John McCain thanks to a few (well, more than a few) deep-seated racists in the south of America. I would still love to see their reactions now: jaws still over the floor, I imagine, like Pam and Tommy just burst through the door. I am glad that analysts made note of the race issue and were happy to bring it up in political discussion, instead of sweeping it under the carpet and saying, "Well, his race may affect the outcome of the election, I suppose, but I don't think like that and anyway, is he black? I hadn't noticed." For better or worse (definitely worse), Barack Obama's race mattered, and it is right that the BBC confronted it in their election coverage.

However. Was there any need for David Dimbleby to contextualise the result to nearly every state with its ethnic diversity ratio? "And Obama is projected to win Massachusetts – 40% of the population there of an ethnic background, of course... and he is also projected to win Rhode Island – 29% of the population black... McCain is projected to take Texas... no black people there at all, obviously... but Obama is projected to win North Carolina... 51% of people there from an ethnic background... " It became stupid, and very unnecessary anyway; if the statistic had really mattered then it would have made sense, but it really was as if he though being black was the only reason Obama would have received any votes. And when you also consider his stumbling, fumbling, bumbling presenting, it really is time Dimbleby went.

Whether it's right, meanwhile, for some people to vote for Obama purely on the premise that he is of a certain ethnicity, I don't quite know. In an ideal world we would all vote... well, we would all vote, for a start. But, to finish that sentence, in an ideal world we would all vote on policy, comparing parties' intentions and voting for the one most in accord with our own beliefs. Sadly, however, that's not the case, and it's definitely not the case in America, where you could have to drive several miles to find someone who has even heard of the world 'policy'.

So is it right to vote for someone because they're black? I don't know. It isn't right to vote against someone because they're black, so is it OK to vote for them for the same reason? Is it different in this case because Obama has made history, empowered millions of African-American citizens and showed that the civil rights movement in America had a greater effect than anyone could ever have imagined (Deep Impact scriptwriters aside)? I don't know. But it's done now: Obama is President, and personally, I'm very glad.

By the way, is anyone else still having terrifying visions of 'Obama' ripping off his mask to reveal Hillary Clinton laughing maniacally and shouting, "The fools!"? No? Just me then.

In the second most crucial vote of national importance this week (sorry, X-Factor), Labour won the by-election in Glenrothes, which borders Gordon Brown's constituency in Kirkcaldy and Cowdenbeath. It's a big by-election, and one that has had some justified build-up: with all the problems Labour were having, it looked as though the SNP would be able to overturn their 10,664 majority. Then the economy really hit the skids and it became Brown's time to shine. And now they've won this big, very big, by-election that, as the Prime Minister claims, actually does signify a vote of confidence in his handling of the economy.

Given that we're not quite in a stage of throwing money around in celebration just yet, it really is one hell of a result for the Prime Minister. This is the seat of his neighbouring constituency, and it looked certain Labour would lose it. That would have been a killer blow. But Brown is showing himself to be a strong leader in an economic crisis, and he could just emerge out of this recession a hero. He's doing as well as could be expected at the moment, that's for sure.

But it's not a Brown Bounce. Stop calling it that. The Brown Bounce happened when he took over as Prime Minister and had an immediate surge of popularity, which generally happens with all new Prime Ministers. This, on the other hand, is mere popularity. Will it last? Who knows? But there's probably no man happier to be in a recession.

Considering its love for all things apocalyptic, I wonder how long it will be before The Independent splashes its own face across its front page with the headline 'THE DEATH OF INDEPENDENT THOUGHT'. It could work in a Russian Doll picture-within-a-picture kind of way, which would look cool: a series of ever-smaller front pages proclaiming the death of a species – the whining middle-ground newspaper.

You see, The Indy is dying on its arse a little bit, and even though its not-right-wing status makes me prefer it to dishrags such as The Daily Mail and the eerily-booming Evening Standard, I wouldn't be that disappointed to see it go. It's a long time since The Independent cared about reporting the news, and although the fresh-faced idealist in me years ago loved to find out what else in the world should be outraging me over my morning biscuits, I very quickly grew bored of hearing about the various ways in which I'll wake up dead tomorrow. Tsunamis. Superbugs. Suicide bombers. If The Indy was a conspiracy theorist it would be Where Are All The Bees? As it is, it's a newspaper with one headline: 'WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE'.

The fact is that newspapers are struggling as a breed. We hip young gunslingers called student journalists are being constantly warned that print is a dying aspect of journalism because everything happens online now, and sadly, that's largely true. Why wait for a newspaper Tuesday morning when you can read a story on your computer at work on Monday afternoon? The current financial crisis is not helping newspaper circulation – look how badly The Daily Star Sunday is doing – simply because it makes more sense to read the paper online for free than to buy it in print, although unsurprisingly, the FT is doing pretty well at the moment.

It is predicted four national newspapers will go under in the next five years. If The Independent is not one of these, I will eat a copy of it.

Fittingly, one of the reasons for its failure is a reluctance and consequent slowness to get into online development. It is paying the price for that now. My own interpretation of its spiralling downturn is simpler: that in these times of real crisis, people want to read the news. Here, The Indy cannot help you.

It looks like a question of when, not if, for The Independent. Perhaps this is a shame after all. I can think of worse newspapers. Anyway, the Mail is suffering. That's funny.

The BBC has to stop doing this.

America in 'still racist' shocker
The Sun in 'moral outrage' shocker
Footballer in 'stupid celebration' shocker
English cricket selectors in 'don't know what they're doing' shocker
Croatia in 'strict ex-Soviet state' shocker

I suppose it was only a matter of time.

What may also be only a matter of time is Barack Obama being assassinated. I am genuinely worried for his safety (and now they're taking away his BlackBerry, so we can't even e-mail him saying "Duck"). This really might happen. If it does, it's a tragedy not only for the obvious reason that, well, he'd be dead and his family would be quite upset, but because I can't see America electing another black man into the White House if Obama were to be assassinated. He has inspired millions, but a dead black president would be the final proof that America isn't ready. We can only hope and pray he doesn't become a latter-day JFK.

And these violent race crimes aren't encouraging, although they are predictable. Still, I am surprised by the burning crosses. You'd think even idiots from the Deep South would think that's going too far – not because everything else is OK (clearly it isn't), but because you'd think they'd be sensible enough to realise that associating yourself with the Ku Klux Klan doesn't do your argument any favours.

"Hey, Billy-Bob-Joe."

"How ya doin', Joe-Billy-Bob?"

"How'd that stunt go just now?"

"No prob, Bob. Those monkeys just got a window full of shit."

"Good work, buddy. Just let me finish this 'KILL OBAMA' sign and we'll head on down to the subway. Hey, do we still have any of those burning crosses from that, uh, fancy dress party?"

"Burning crosses?"

"Yeah."

"I dunno... isn't that a bit too far? I mean, we want this guy to die, obviously – he's black and he's in charge of the greatest country in the world. But don't you think burning crosses kinda make us look a bit stupid? It's not even like it's ironic."

"Don't black out on me, man. We put up burning crosses and people know we're serious. Besides, what have you got against the Ku Klux Klan? Those guys were national heroes."

"Good point, man."

"Damn right good point. U-S-A! A-O-K-K-K!"

(Disclaimer: I feel no shame if you think this is in bad taste. I mock because I always do, and racism doesn't deserve special treatment.)

No one does moral outrage quite like The Sun. Or The Mail. Or The Evening Standard. Actually, most of the British press does moral outrage in quite a big way, and you have to laugh because if you don't you just might cry.

But what does make me want to cry is just how powerful these papers can be. After this little shenanigan, a Gary Glitter song has been axed from a GCSE Music syllabus. Understandable, you might think at first, since he's a convicted paedophile and it would be 15- and 16-year-olds listening to his music. But think again. Why should it have to go?

They don't want children listening to Gary Glitter's music. Fair enough. It's awful. But it's not as if I'm The Leader Of The Gang (I Am) has subliminal messages in it telling certain listeners to take sweets from dirty old men, is it?

Listening to his music isn't going to hurt him. And then saying, "I dread to think what they may find searching online for him" – what? What will they find? His penis? Private videos of him abusing children? The only thing they'll find is that he's a paedophile, and if they didn't know that already they're intelligent enough to go "Boo, hiss" when they find out.

A lot of people are using the argument that he'll make money from the, ahem, exposure, but only if people buy his music. Are teenagers going to start buying Gary Glitter records? Really? Exactly.

I also find the browser headline interesting: "How can exam bosses ask kids to study Gary Glitter? ¦ The Sun ¦ News" Now come on, guys, that's not news. That's opinion. That's a liberty almost as bad as this related headline: 'PERVERT GLITTER'S £100k TELLY AD' – a fantastically misleading headline which makes it sound as though he's actually getting an advert for his services ("Hey kids! It's Gary Glitter!").

Maybe the song should have been removed after all. But I'm pretty sure The Sun's home brand 'got the bastard' bring-a-pitchfork whine party isn't necessary.

David Norris has been fined by Ipswich Town after seemingly making a gesture in support of ex-teammate Luke McCormick, who was jailed for seven years after causing the death of two boys in a car crash, having been twice the drink-drive legal limit after drinking at Norris' wedding.

I have one issue with this, and that's the club's response. The boys' mother was right to complain, and so reasonably too (call me inconsistent all you like – I think this moral outrage is justified), and I'm glad Ipswich Town looked into it. But they have come out in support of Norris and still fined him. What's the message there?

The club says it has heard Norris' explanation and is satisfied it was all a big misunderstanding, and that his celebration was misinterpreted. OK then. No problem there. But then they fined him an undisclosed fee for doing it. Why? If the gesture was so innocent, it's not his fault it was misinterpreted. Either he's guilty of deliberately making the gesture supporting Luke McCormick, in which case he should be punished, or he's the innocent victim of a giant misunderstanding, in which case he shouldn't be punished.

Mixed messages, methinks.

In an attack on the English Cricket Board's selection policy, Darren Gough criticised the selectors for picking Ravi Bopara only to do nothing with him.

I couldn't agree more. Ravi Bopara is wasted batting at no8. In England's 158-run defeat to India on Friday, he came into a match that was pretty much already lost and hit an unbeaten 38-ball half-century, including five sixes. Significantly, he ran out of partners.

He also didn't bowl, although Collingwood and captain KP did, conceding 31 runs in 3 overs. In total, England were hit for 387 in 50 overs, which is not far away from 8 an over.

So, why is a man picked to bat and bowl batting at 8 and not bowling? Bopara bats at 3 for Essex and does a damn good job of it. He is definitely a better batsman than new boy Samit Patel and Matty Prior, who again disappointed opening the batting. He deserves better than this.

Ravi Bopara is a quality player, and if the selectors don't believe this, then why are they picking him?

It's official: Croatia has cancelled Christmas. OK, so only in the public sector, but still: won't somebody think of the children?

Just a quick one, then, before it all kicks off and America welcomes its new President.

Here is a generator to predict Barack Obama's inauguration speech. You enter random words where it tells you to, and works out a speech for you. It's great fun, and in places, strangely accurate given you are entering words without knowing where they'll be going.

Here's mine, if you're interested. "Green and famous challenges" aside, it's eerily close to what the real thing could be and also, really quite amusing - especially the final paragraph.

My fellow Americans, today is a happy day. You have shown the world that "hope" is not just another word for "change", and that "change" is not only something we can believe in again, but something we can actually do.

Today we celebrate, but let there be no mistake – America faces green and famous challenges like never before. Our economy is large. Americans can barely afford their mortgages, let alone have enough money left over for tables. Our healthcare system is nasty. If your heart is sick and you don't have insurance, you might as well call a journalist. And America's image overseas is tarnished like a underwear magazine. But doctoring together we can right this ship, and set a course for Hawaii.

Finally, I must thank my lovely family, my black campaign volunteers, but most of all, I want to thank Hillary Clinton for making this historic occasion possible. Of course, I must also thank you, President Bush, for years of messing the American people. Without your white efforts, none of this would have been possible.

Sometimes I think there’s too much news. There were at least ten stories I wanted to write about or at least mention this week, but that would be playing havoc on my timetable and your patience.

For one, my local rag The Essex Chronicle – average paper, average toilet paper, brilliant inspirator for the best send-up of local news there is, The Framley Examiner – had a piece this week on an anonymous benefactor who paid a man’s court fine and gave him money to feed his nine children. He called himself Robin Hood. Admirable, certainly, but questionable too: if he lives by Robin Hood’s standards, he has presumably been helping the poor by first stealing from the rich.

One for the authorities, I feel.

Ultimately – and I predict this to be a sad necessity that won’t go away – I have to pick and choose what to write about.

But by no means are these the biggest stories of the week. Writing about the news doesn't always work that way. Sometimes I find a story interesting but know others won't. Sometimes the story is interesting but doesn’t provoke enough of a reaction in me to warrant writing my opinions on it, or I simply don’t have much to say on the matter. Sometimes I don’t have the space in this blog to study and evaluate the subtle complexities of a case and strengths and weaknesses of an argument.

And sometimes I just don't care.

Brown loses the dole poll
Obama's speech raises questions as well as answers
'Kiss and tell' stories Maxed out by Mosley
Okereke shaky after Johnny gets Rotten
They don't know they're born

When it was announced that under new Government plans unemployed people will have to work for their benefit payouts, I immediately reminded myself to keep a close eye on the by-election in Glasgow East just a few days later. Glasgow East has more benefit claimants than any other constituency. Announcing the plans days before this crucial by-election was brave to say the least.

And sure enough, Labour lost. And even though the margin was only 365 votes, it was a massive defeat. Gordon Brown’s grasp on No. 10 now looks at its absolute weakest, and with the Conservatives calling for an election and his own party looking toward a new leader, it seems but a matter of time before he goes.

You have to feel a bit sorry for Margaret Curran, Labour’s Glasgow East candidate. She has been utterly shafted. Even with the SNP requiring a 22% swing to win, she was always up against it with Gordon Brown being Enemy #1 at the moment. And then the killer blow – a tougher time for benefit claimants.

It’d be a great shame if the scheme, revealed by Work and Pensions Secretary James Purnell on Monday 21st July, ends up to be the final nail in Brown’s coffin. Because it’s actually very good. Despite The Daily Telegraph’s report opening with a wonderful sentence as contradictory as it was polemic – "the unemployed will be forced to do voluntary work" – the plans deserve to be lauded for their attempt to a) expose benefit cheats and b) get the unemployed working again.

And it’s not as if they are being reduced to slave labour the moment they hit the dole queue either. Anyone claiming unemployment benefit for more than a year will have to do four weeks of unpaid work. That’s hardly unreasonable. In fact, it’s only right for those happy to live a life on benefits. That should never be an option while you can still work, and Purnell’s plan – which will see those claiming for two years having to work full-time – looks like it may help to bring a stop to it. It will also force drug addicts to seek treatment if they wish to secure benefits, which is more good news.

So all in all, it’s a fantastic development. Shame it’s probably just killed Gordon Brown’s career.

His speech to Berlin on Thursday July 24th set in stone the world’s love affair with Barack Obama. The Berlin crowd helped his rock star image. "O-BA-MA," they chanted, "O-BA-MA." "Thank you," he repeatedly shouted back, seemingly trying to shut them up so he could get on with it.

Part apology for his country’s misdeeds,

part European history lesson and mostly promise of a better future, the 30-minute speech acknowledged the continental drift between America and Europe caused by ever-growing mistrust and resolved to unite the two once more in healing the wounds of the Bush administration. It was one hell of a speech.

But will it be enough? Not to cure the world’s ills – Obama’s not God, despite what sections of the media suggest – but for him to get the chance to try by winning the US presidential election first?

Ah yes, the election. In our Obamania, we seem to have forgotten about the formality of the great man becoming President first. John McCain hasn’t. He’s been questioning the media’s stance and, like German Chancellor Angela Merkel, the appropriateness of Obama delivering a speech in Berlin. McCain said he too would love to speak to Berliners, but "as president... rather than as a candidate". And maybe he has a point.

The concern for Obama, despite the enormous success of the speech, is whether he is targeting the right audience. He may be preaching to the converted. It is absolutely admirable that he should put aside campaigning to address Europe, in his own words, "as a citizen" (he made practically no reference to the leadership race), but he risks alienating voters back in the US. America votes, not Europe, and having done the job in the latter, Obama needs to keep his eyes on the prize. In short: he should get selfish, at least until – if – he wins the election.

If Obama wants to win America, he should remember: you’ve got to be in it to win it.

Motor racing chief Max Mosley, the man with probably the most publicised sexual fetishes in the world, won his case against the News of the World, after the paper alleged he was involved in a "Nazi-style orgy" with five prostitutes.

The judge, Mr Justice Eady, announced that the press had no right to publish private matters not constituting a serious crime. Implications for freedom of press aren’t good, with many proclaiming the death of 'kiss and tell' stories or even investigations into public figures’ private lives altogether.

Personally, I’m in favour of the press publishing whatever it likes as long as it isn’t dangerous in any way. That is, literally dangerous. For example, The Drudge Report’s irresponsible (but highly valued) exposure of Prince Harry serving in Afghanistan, which risked soldiers’ lives by drawing attention to one very famous comrade, or The Daily Express, the self-proclaimed “World’s Greatest Newspaper”, revealing the secret whereabouts of Mark Thatcher, a man with a bounty on his head. I don’t agree with the concept of a scoop at any cost, if that cost is life. Clearly I’m going to be a crap journalist, but them’s my Principles, which I have been made to understand are more than a high street fashion chain.

But the revelation of Mosley’s orgy was not dangerous. Embarrassing, perhaps – does it really save face to demand privacy in a high-profile court case, rather than just try to keep quiet about the whole sorry mess? – but not dangerous. Frankly, it saddens me that anyone should care about ‘stories’ like this, but while they do the media should be allowed to give them what they want.

Do we have a right to know about the private lives of public figures? Maybe. Maybe not. But Justice Eady’s example of supposedly transgressive journalism – "Would it justify installing a camera in someone’s home in order to catch him or her smoking a spliff? Surely not" – was a poorly chosen one for, as The Daily Telegraph pointed out annoyingly before I had the chance, what if that person was a politician leading a vehement anti-drugs campaign? Then the public should know.

As much as I hate ‘kiss and tell’ stories myself, people seem to want to know about what public figures get up to, and in some cases, they need to. Perhaps in Mosley’s case they didn’t, but Justice Eady may have just thrown the baby out with the bathwater.

There was some worrying news from Spain’s Summercase festival, as Bloc Party frontman Kele Okereke claimed he was the subject of an unprovoked racist attack from ex-Sex Pistols leader and legend in his own lunchtime, John Lydon, a.k.a. Johnny Rotten, a.k.a. talentless arsehole who has been living off one album for 30 years.

I’m not one to take sides without knowing the full story, but quotes from those involved present some interesting contradictions. Somehow Okereke’s story seems more likely. Lydon’s protestations of innocence ("I feel very sorry for a man that needs to lie about what was a perfect evening") paint a scene out of a Famous Five book, while Okereke insists it was more of an Enid Blyton golliwog incident. Okereke claims Lydon and his entourage ranted about his "black attitude" and started a fight also involving members of Foals and the Kaiser Chiefs (the most interesting thing they’ve done to date) that resulted in some nasty bruises for the Bloc Party singer.

If his interviews are anything to go by, Okereke certainly has an attitude, and arguably quite a bad one. But "a black attitude"? What is that, exactly? Lydon’s denied saying it, obviously, but dropped himself in it a bit by adding that Okereke should "Grow up and learn to be a true man", concluding, "When you have achieved as much as I have, come back and talk to me." The first of those statements implies that there was a fight and Lydon is accusing Okereke of running to mummy, while the latter is just embarrassing.

Hmm. Suspicious.

Finally, I was a bit disturbed to hear that 117 pupils walked out of a school in Basingstoke in protest at plans to extend their school day.

My original shock was at the idea of schoolchildren going on strike, but then I thought of their grievance over losing leisure time and softened a bit. Nobody wants to spend all day in a dusty classroom. Then – I really should form opinions after reading a whole article instead of each sentence – then I read that the 20-minute extension was actually going to be to their lunch break. Finally, I found out that under the new practice they would end the school day at 3.05pm, and that they’re currently going home at 2.45.

Any sympathy I had for these kids is now long gone. How bloody pathetic. 2.45? Do they not realise how lucky they are? That’s practically lunchtime. And the extra 20 minutes wouldn’t be to lesson time anyway. What an absolutely stupid, stupid protest. These kids have been watching too much TV, with news programmes showing stories of strikes here, there and everywhere. I blame the parents.

One (or rather two) of the most interesting and appealing things about blogging is its immediacy and its brevity. Why wait a day for a full-scale investigation into a story by a national newspaper when you can read a journalist's opinions on it straightaway, and in just five minutes?

Then I come in and cock it all up by blogging regularly once a week and at great length. I suppose one way of looking at it is that I'm stripping down the boundaries, man, and I'm not restricting myself to a blog's... restrictions. But alternatively, it might just be that I trust my readers to have good attention spans and a good enough memory to return later if they're short on time.

Why am I saying this now? Because, writing a piece on American politics as I speak – well, not literally, since I'm obviously writing this as I speak and as it happens I'm not actually speaking at all – I can tell you that it is going to be epic. There's just too much to say. Sorry.

So if you're looking for a quick opinion on the American presidential election, here it is: I am expecting and dreading a Republican victory. But if you want a bit more than that, read on. And if you don't have long to read this, as you are perfectly entitled to be, what with this being a blog and everything, you can always take a look at the other stories and bookmark the first one for later.

Hell, who am I to give you advice? This blog is for you, not me. I hope you enjoy it. Until next Sunday then.

McCain in the fast lane but no home straight yet
God Save The Queen
Medicine flatlining in the comedy stakes
Alex Ferguson is a tosser
Admin: a word to the wise

No blood on the carpet, but then it wasn't that dirty a fight. The first televised debate between John McCain and Barack Obama has been and gone and there was no clear winner. It was a surprisingly clean affair, with Obama's assertiveness, using the words "when I'm President", seeming a bit incongruous in a debate between two candidates striving to seek legitimacy rather than state a case for election.

Whether this will last remains to be seen. But equally fascinating were the shenanigans on McCain's side beforehand. The Republican candidate tried to postpone the debate to allow a greater concentration on the current financial crisis. He did not succeed.

It may look like weakness, but trying to delay the debate was actually a very shrewd move by McCain. Not only did it give the appearance of a candidate in touch with the common man worried where his money's going; it neutralised the blow the financial crisis has had on his campaign by showing that he acknowledged the problem and wanted to resolve it straightaway. Obama, on the other hand, was in danger of appearing a power-hungry outsider not interested in the people he wants to lead.

But he pulled it back with aggression and good old common sense. You want to help the economy, John? Don't we all? But people want to know – now – what you're planning to do and I don't see why that should happen behind closed doors. Doing two things at once is an integral part of leading the country and hey, if you're not ready to do that, I'm happy to step in.

The bail-out is interesting. It looks like a bit of a rabbit out of a hat, but it was always on the cards. Matt, the cartoonist in The Telegraph, drew a fantastic cartoon, reproduced here with thanks, that sums it up quite well.

And the debate itself? Well... it's complicated – which is why analysts are choosing to strip it down by saying that McCain won on the all-important foreign policy front, but it was essentially a draw. I'm not sure about that. Obama made the better points but McCain made the better appearance and sadly, that's what's going to count. I would say that although neither candidate emerged a clear winner, McCain probably just edged ahead in the stakes.

He drove home the experience card. I mean, he rammed it home. Everything new that Obama suggested was brought back to his alleged inexperience, and although that is his stock response, McCain was able to highlight

his own experience to bring up good decisions he made on foreign policy (apparently there are some) earlier in his career. At one point he reacted to Obama's plan to negotiate with foreign threats by saying, "So let me get this right: we sit down with Ahmadinejad and he says, 'We're going to wipe Israel off the face of the Earth' and we say, 'No, you're not'? Oh please." That was damaging. Even though McCain was parodying Obama's supposed naïveté to an extreme, it made the Democratic senator a laughing stock in the hall and suggested he's... well... just too nice to tackle terrorism.

McCain automatically has the problem of having to admit to mistakes the Republicans have made in office, but he's somehow working it to his advantage. "We Republicans came to power to change government, and government changed us." Humility, however false. If Obama points out errors made in the Bush administration – such as landing the country in $700 billion of debt – then unless McCain is personally involved he can reply, "Yes, we've made mistakes, but I can change that", or even "I regret that mistake but I've learnt from it", bringing him back to the advantage of his experience. He also wins the award for stating the obvious: "We cannot allow a second Holocaust – let's make that very clear." Thanks for that, John.

And most powerfully, he can rally the troops. He used the debate over the financial crisis to say he has a fundamental belief in the American worker, whom he claims is better than any other in the world, to pull America out of this hole through sheer hard work. Who cares that an individual's hard work can't pull a country out of a $700 billion debt? McCain realises how much sweat I put into my job. He's on our side, unlike that black commie. I'm great! We're great! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Combine this with Obama's perceived class-related elitism and you have a problem: how can he win the blue-collar worker away from 'working man' McCain? Yes, this is bollocks, but that's their respective reputations in working-class America.

Obama's wry humour on politics can not only undermine him beside McCain's serious 'I care about American people' approach, but also appear patronising. Saying things like, "We had a 20th century mindset that basically said, 'Well, you know, [Musharraf] may be a dictator, but he's our dictator'" can come across as belittling the American public, suggesting they can't understand global politics without it being dumbed down, and however true that may be, that's not an image you want. It's a shame, because Obama has a head for a great turn of phrase, but his superb rhetoric may well act against him, not for him.

He also stuttered a bit in the debate, which I wasn't expecting, and has the unfortunate verbal tic of saying "y'know" a lot. However quickly he says it and however hard he swallows it, that "y'know" makes him appear less confident and less certain about his views. McCain's catchphrase seems to be "I'll tell ya", which is a lot more grabbing. Amazingly, his is often the real oratory.

The fact is that McCain 'won' the debate, at least on foreign policy, because he connects with more Americans. If one candidate responds to a question about Russia by talking about energy resources, and the other says he looked into Putin's eyes and saw three letters: a K, a G and a B, guess which will have workers talking by the water cooler about him. Yes, it's cheesy, yes, it's glib, but it's popular and it's going to win him the election.

I'm sorry. Excuse my pessimism. But mark my words: come Christmas, John McCain is probably going to be President of the United States of America.

We're in trouble.

Not another poll saying the Tories are ahead of us. I'm not holding a bloody election. I'm Prime Minister, not Cameron. We need to do something. What do people care about? Quick, Bryant, hand me that Daily Mail. Ah, the monarchy, eh? Very well – let's do something about it. That'll show 'em who's boss.

After a constitutional review by MP Chris Bryant, the Government is planning to rejig the way succession of the throne runs in this country. The law stating that Catholics cannot be King or Queen, and indeed that anyone inheriting the throne must make before parliament a declaration rejecting Catholicism, is to be thrown out, and so too is the requirement that the crown is automatically passed to a male heir. This means that Prince William's firstborn would be monarch upon his death even she was female.

It's a sound suggestion that obviously makes a lot of sense – there's no reason why even monarchy, the least democratic concept in the country, should be party to sexism and Catholic-bashing. I'm sure it's news that thrills Catholics and women alike, not to mention Catholic women. Finally, that insurmountable barrier is gone. They too can be Queen.

Hang on one crazy little minute though – don't you still have to be part of the royal family to do that? Isn't there some sort of requirement for someone to be born to a monarch to become one? Isn't this basically a minor amendment to an undemocratic system, perpetuating an antiquated outdated practice through supposed modernisation, and probably designed to get people behind the Labour Government again even though it affects them in absolutely no way?

I do love how people are celebrating this 'widening out' of succession, as if anyone can be King or Queen of the country now. It doesn't quite work like that. And it's a bit stupid to claim the current rules prohibiting women and Catholics from taking the throne 'clashes with the Human Rights Act'. The whole bloody idea of monarchy clashes with the Human Rights Act. Stop trying to polish a tiara-shaped turd.

Still, it's just making it fairer to those who are in line to the throne, and that runs deeper than you might think. The current law banning Catholics from the throne also applies to sons and daughters of Catholics, and those who marry them (honestly, this makes Catholics sound like mutants or something). Earlier this year Princess Anne's son Peter Phillips married Autumn Kelly, who was baptised a Catholic. He would have lost his place as 11th in line for the throne (blimey, that was a close one) but Kelly recanted her Catholicism.

Things have changed a little since the days of Thomas More. Put a crown and a sceptre in front of a wavering Catholic and they might just do a quick St. Peter impression – Jesus who?

Are you CTD? An FLK? NFN? How about GROLIES? Let's hope not. But rest assured you won't be for long – these abbreviations are falling out of fashion.

In medical circles these terms used to be thrown around like confetti, but apparently, no longer. Since you ask, they are acronyms used to describe patients, and just to warn you, most of them aren't that positive. CTD means 'Circling The Drain' (as in, dying quite rapidly), FLK means 'Funny-Looking Kid', NFN stands for 'Normal For Norfolk' (nice) and the innovative GROLIES denotes the description 'Guardian Reader Of Low Intelligence in Ethnic Skirt'.

Clearly these are brilliant, and should never fall out of fashion. My favourite was once DTS, used to describe obese patients. It means 'Danger To Shipping'. Now, though, I have fallen in love with the medical phrase TEETH, an abbreviated form of 'Tried Everything Else; Try Homeopathy'. One more secret of the medical world blown apart there.

But these acronyms aren't being used much any more, and who can be surprised? We live in a compensation culture: if you can sue somebody, you sue somebody. Twice. Surgeons are in constant fear of losing thousands if they don't get an operation exactly, perfectly right; why are they going to take risks with their job, reputation and wallet by calling a patient 'GPO' (Good for Parts Only)? What if the patient finds out? The doctor's immediately trying to settle out of court.

I don't know. Modern life is just ruining medical comedy. To quote Thornton Reed in Garth Marenghi's Darkplace: "The main reason I went into [medicine] was for the laughs – that and the pussy, and the pussy dried up a long time ago if you get my drift."

Sorry. Please don't sue me.

I've never liked Alex Ferguson.

When I was a naive young Spurs fan (i.e. from toddlerhood up until a few months ago, when I tore up my figurative season ticket through protest at how the club treated Dimitar Berbatov) I became increasingly frustrated with Manchester United grabbing last-minute equalisers/winners against us in the eighth minute of questionable injury time, and for this I blamed Ferguson's obvious manipulation

of referees and referees' assistants. Add to this his supreme arrogance, his absurd excuses and above all his incessant whining about referees being biased against his team – even though United have clearly had more luck with decisions than any other club in the world, ever – and you get a man that I would immediately consign to Room 101 without a second thought for his family, his friends if he has any, or the mistreatment of a grand Orwellian concept by BBC television.

But in recent months and years my intense hatred towards this waste of human tissue has been quelled slightly by another manager of equal detestitude (yes, I made that up). Arsene Wenger. Never before has such a whining hypocritical coward walked this Earth, and frankly I find it hilarious whenever Arsenal lose just because their manager is an arse.

But Ferguson's comments after their 2-0 win over Bolton have brought it all flooding back. Manchester United got a dodgy penalty after a fantastic tackle by Jlloyd JSamuel of JBolton was adjudged to be indecent. United took the chance and took the lead after an hour of being held at 0-0. Bolton boss Gary Megson called the decision "absolute nonsense" and "an absolute howler" (someone give the man a thesaurus). Ferguson responded, "I was surprised because it looked as though their lad got a foot on the ball," then, "But Rob Styles turned us down four or five times last year so maybe it is payback time. But he still owes us another four."

SHUT THE HELL UP. There is not some great conspiracy against your team, Fergs; on the contrary, referees have spent the last 15 years losing themselves in your colon. If it's beginning to even up now (I'm told decisions have finally been going against United) then that's justice, and to be honest, not enough of it. Rob Styles has not been giving bad decisions against Manchester United, and if he has it's pathetic bringing it up now. Let. It. Go.

I've never liked Alex Ferguson.

Sorry, just a brief bit of shopkeeping. I have recently undertaken a new university course and for my studies I will need to keep a blog. It won't be in the same vein as Huw Davies' Week Spot, and it won't be updated only on Sundays. It will be on this site, or perhaps another site connected by an internal link, but I will endeavour to keep it separate from this review of the week's events. So if, in the next few weeks, you see a new section to this blog, don't be scared - it's all part of the plan.

Thanks.

Today is my birthday, which means two things for this blog: it'll be shorter and less cynical than usual. Gone are the diatribes of Homeric proportions on the horrible financial state we're all in and gone are the complaints about how bad parts of the national press are (though they are). No, for this week, I am going to bright, breezy and brief.

Which means, yes, there may be some silliness. Sorry.

To that end, I have just opened one of my birthday presents, which is a collection of crap jokes. So, in the spirit of silliness: where was the Declaration of Independence signed? At the bottom. Boom boom.

No, I don't know what happened to this blog either.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E
Dollocaust
Is Manchester United the ugliest football team in the world?

So clearly the biggest news this week is the impending divorce between 75-year-old lingerie model and Joan Rivers impressionist Madonna and her lovable cockney geezer of a husband, Guy 'cor blimey guvnor' Ritchie. Apparently this split has been a long time coming. Apparently bears defecate in heavily wooded areas.

It's interesting that the announcement supposedly came earlier than planned: the couple had wanted to keep up appearances until the end of Madonna's new tour (I imagine this was her idea, not Guy's). Maybe it's just me believing too much of the little celebrity gossip I read, but I was under the impression that everyone knew they've been growing apart over the last few years, so they can't have done brilliantly in the 'keeping up appearances' part of things. Still, waiting until the end of your tour to announce your divorce? Isn't that a little cynical? Call me naïve, but even the end of a marriage should have its priorities, rather than being "highly stage-managed", "announced when it [is] convenient" for one of the two people involved. Madonna "didn't want the distraction while she is trying to concentrate on her tour," The Sun reveals. With a thought process like that, how has she has the nerve to question Ritchie's emotional capabilities?

With this in mind, I also find it very interesting that the announcement came from Madonna and not the couple, as usually happens. Even soon-to-be-divorcees usually manage to be in the same room as each other for one more press conference, for old time's sake, perhaps. But, although Ritchie's representative co-signed the statement, the news was revealed by Madonna's cohort. Maybe it was seen as her responsibility as the more famous party, but I wouldn't be surprised if she's quite happy to take the reins with the press on this one.

She has, after all, been more vocal about the divorce than Ritchie. The other night at a concert in Boston – her first after announcing the divorce – Madonna gave Ritchie lock, stock and two smoking barrels, introducing the song Miles Away with the words, "This song is for the emotionally retarded. Maybe you know some people who fall into that category. I know I do." She then powered through her set like a true rock 'n' rolla, although it doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to notice that in those clothes you can very clearly see her snatch.

Apologies for the appalling punnery and quite crude (but accurate) observation that for the millions of dollars she spends on her stage show, Madonna still dresses like a cheap whore. We shouldn't be too surprised by this sort of behaviour from someone who has released singles called Bad Girl, Hanky Panky and the less-than-subtle Erotica in the past, but she's 50 now. Apart from anything else, she could at least start saving some money for retirement. Allegedly her new tour, called 'Sticky and Sweet' – the woman has no shame – involves £1 million of jewellery, 3,500 individual wardrobe elements, 100 pairs of fishnet stockings and 69 guitars. Strangely, it's the last of these statistics that concerns me. Even The Clash, at the height of their instrument-smashing mayhem, didn't get through that many.

Anyway, back to the divorce, just briefly. One final piece of interest, for me at least, is Guy and Ritchie bringing out the old privacy chestnut, requesting that the media "maintain respect for their family at this difficult time."

Optimistic, I feel.

A line of Fisher Price dolls has been withdrawn from sale at a number of toy stores in America after parents complained they were spouting such questionable messages as "Satan is king" and "Islam is the light".

Americans? Paranoid? Nah.

I'm pretty sure this could only happen in the Bible Belt of America (in this case, Oklahoma). Not only is it a hotbed for insane Christians hitting pro-choicers with bricks, it's a hotbed for insane Christians insisting that everyone in the world apart from them is a heathen/Islamic fundamentalist/the Devil/all three. Add a dash of 9/11, a whiff of Jerry Springer: The Opera and a soupcon of 'Holy shit, there's a black man running for President' and you get full-scale terror.

Listen to the clip attached at the top of this link and tell me that gurgling, babbling baby doll is saying "Islam is the light". It's not. If anything, it's saying "Me ears are alight" in an obscure reference to a Maxell advert. Equally weird, but probably less terrifying to Americans. Still, I expect somewhere in the Palestinian Bible Belt – the Qur'an Colony? – there are families complaining that an evil Western doll is saying, "Ooh ooh, the Israelites."

Or maybe they're more understanding than crazy American bible-bashers.

It's been discussed before, this, but watching their match against West Brom made me realise once more that United's players are uglier than Route 1.

This is a team that has produced and since released such Elephant Man cast-offs as Luke Chadwick and Phil Neville, and yet they still keep up an impressive ugly quotient. Maybe it's part of Cristiano Ronaldo's contract. Maybe it's an obscure EU law. Whatever the reason, it's slightly eerie. If you don't believe me, look for yourself at this full XI of hideous United players (in a 4-3-3 formation, notice). To be fair to them, a lot of these pictures have been taken with the players at the very height of gormlessness, but I don't care – they're funny.

British politics has been very interesting this week. Even with a Cold War possibly starting thanks to the antics of Russia and Georgia, there's plenty happening at home to get the political pulse racing, or at least beating.

You may be wondering why I am steadfastly not writing about the Russia/Georgia situation, and the simple reason is that I don't know enough about the situation to comment without revealing my ignorance (please, no "that's never stopped you before" comments). Even after analysing the situation my conclusions are along the lines of "Naughty Ruskis" and "Silly Georgians", and that's the kind of political comment that helps nobody (Simon Heffer, take note).

But what I do have on offer for you is a hat-trick of opinions on British political stories this week, with some American election-spotting on the side for good measure.

Never say I don't spoil you.

Tories vs. Fatties
Let's talk about sex, baby
History lessons go back to black
The female of the species
Every little helps

Put down the pie, fatty, and listen up. If you are overweight or obese, you have nobody to blame but yourself. Not Bernard Matthews, not Colonel Sanders – it's YOUR fault you break the scales. Yours. Now get out of my sight and make a salad, chubbles.

This, as every reporter will tell you, is the gist of the Conservative Party's caring new approach to public health, outlined by the shadow health secretary Andrew Lansley last Wednesday. His speech to the think tank Reform, entitled No Excuses, No Nannying, attacked people’s failure to take responsibility for their self-inflicted health problems, claiming, "Tell people that biology and the environment cause obesity and they are offered the one thing we have to avoid: an excuse." Basically, the Tories are telling the overweight they have only themselves to blame.

What Lansley said is actually a little more complex than that. He unveiled proposals to fight obesity that include role models promoting healthy lifestyles, a clampdown on food advertising and asking the food industry to reduce portion sizes. Blimey, hold on to your seat – them's some radical ideas.

Not so much an unveiling as a shy reminder, then. The Tories haven't suggested anything new here, and it's not hard to see why the Government's health secretary Alan Johnson condemned them, saying, "Andrew Lansley is proposing to do nothing that isn't being done already and saying nothing that hasn't been said before." Still, the LibDems probably got carried away in saying the Tories just want to blame people for their obesity because they haven't got any ideas on how to tackle it. That's silly talk. Besides, the Tories are right: people should take responsibility for their weight and stop blaming external influences.

It is true that we live in an irresponsible compensation culture where nothing is anybody's fault (except paedophiles, who don't get to defend themselves). "Don't blame me – I'm only a monster because society made me that way." "It's not my fault I had a bad upbringing." "Jesus told me to rob that bank." We are constantly led to believe that we are all guided by social or even astrological forces beyond our control, that if you were born on the wrong side of the tracks then dealing crack to abusive teenage mothers is understandable and therefore permissible, and that anyone who actually blames someone for doing something wrong is a fascist – or in this scenario, a fattist.

Fat people cannot help being fat, we are told. But here’s the thing: most of them can. If there is a genuine medical reason for an individual’s obesity (e.g. glandular problems, physical disability etc.) and they literally have no option but to pile

on the pounds, then it's entirely reasonable to say, "They can't help it." But that's not the general argument; instead, we are made to believe that obesity isn't a lifestyle choice but an unfortunate affliction targeting the weak. There's just so much advertising for junk food, you see. And it tastes so nice. Oh, these poor, poor sufferers of the overeating disease. Does lack of willpower count as a vitamin deficiency?

Forgive me for being aggressive, but obesity is not caused by availability. Just because you can buy a tasty but sickeningly unhealthy burger for a couple of quid doesn’t mean you are contractually obliged to, in the same way that you can buy gallons of cider with loose change but you don’t have to drink it all in one go and become an alcoholic. It is a question of having some self-control. You can be flabby and still have a backbone.

The Tories' plans don't recommend anything new or useful, and should be disregarded for being largely pointless. But at least they don't protect gutless gluttons, who need to take the blame for their mistakes. It may not be easy for chronic overeaters, but at the end of the day, humble pie is still pie.

MPs are appealing to the Government to provide sex education as early as the beginning of primary school, meaning pupils would learn about the birds and the bees from the age of four.

It's easy to strip a complex suggestion down into headline-hitting hysteria – look, I did it just there and I'm not even a national broadsheet newspaper – but this plan is still concerning. The sexualisation of young children is becoming ever-worrying, and teaching them about relationships before they can even spell 'relationships' is a dodgy prospect. How sexual will this sex education be at that age? We don't know. It may just be a case of "Have you noticed how you like Mary in a different way to how you like John?" (or not, as the case may be), but until that is made clear, we have reason to be suspicious. Call me old-fashioned, but a) kids should arguably learn about relationships and sex from their parents or guardians rather than their teachers and b) they should definitely be able to tie their own shoelaces by that time.

Let it be stricken from the record that at the age of 21 I am really bad at tying my shoelaces.

There is also, I feel, insufficient evidence to suggest sex education at such an early will cut down on the unwanted teenage pregnancies that are plaguing Britain and precipitating such reactionary legislation. Hitting the problem early is always a good thing, but I can't see explanations of relationships to an infant preventing him from making a mistake many years later. One fear is that girls are beginning to have periods without knowing properly what to expect, but again, it's very unusual for that bodily change to occur before the age of 9 or 10, say, which would be a reasonable time for sex education to begin.

I just don't think this legislation would solve any problems, and I do believe it might taint the innocence of millions of young children. Colour me sceptical.

But for every absurd educational reform there's a decent one (that's probably not an official statistic), and it's definitely good news that the slave trade and the British empire are to become compulsory subjects in History lessons.

Pupils between the ages of 11 and 14 – meaning pre-GCSE students, forced in nearly all schools to take History for three years – will be taught about the likes of William Wilberforce and Olaudah Equiano and their roles in the abolition of the British slave trade (and to think, they could just watch Amazing Grace or read this blog and follow the Wikipedia links). The fall of the empire will also be dissected and the progression of civil rights for African-Americans most likely thrown into the mix as well.

It's an encouraging development for three reasons. Most obviously and most importantly, it will teach children about a massive part of Britain's history hitherto ignored by school syllabus-makers. Secondly, it shows a willingness to admit and discuss the embarrassing faults of our ancestors, rather than pretending they didn't happen and focusing instead on national triumphs such as Waterloo, the Battle of Britain and the removal of Margaret Thatcher from power. Finally and most thrillingly of all, it will end the domination of Germany, the world wars and the Holocaust over History lesson timetables.

My only concern is the idea that schoolchildren will learn about the slave trade "to help them understand modern-day issues such as immigration." Given the disgusting popularity of people having right-wing leanings these days, I wouldn't be too surprised if 'helping children to understand immigration' means 'helping children to understand that immigrants are all mass-murdering rapists'.

Still, that's just my cynicism kicking into overdrive. It's about time British kids knew the truth about slavery, before they start thinking that Sepp Blatter and Cristiano Ronaldo know what they're talking about.

John McCain may be an idiot, but he knows American politics. He's covered up his own inadequacies by focusing on Obama's supposed inexperience, he's guaranteed himself favourable press coverage by allowing plenty of exposure for most of his career and he

purposefully upset the Democratic hoedown by infiltrating their Denver conference with high-profile Republican speakers. And now, amid claims he's too old and doesn't appeal to the more simple-minded female voters as much as Barack 'Nice Smile' Obama, he has chosen a woman, Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska, for his running mate and potential Vice-President. Shrewd.

It is, of course, reductive and even insulting to suggest McCain will receive more of the female vote than he would otherwise just by having a female running mate. But that's how it works. A level of 'one of us' affects every voter to an extent – black or white, rich or poor, male or female. Having a Hispanic running mate would secure McCain the Hispanic vote. Having a ginger running mate would secure the ginger vote. And having a female running mate is likely to secure him more of the female vote. Sorry.

Palin may also win McCain the Youth vote (she's 44), the Proud Mothers Unite vote (5 children, one with Down's Syndrome) and the Anti-Abortion vote (5 children, one with Down's Syndrome), although admittedly McCain already had that one sewn up. We also shouldn't underestimate the popular vote from Stupid Men Who Don't Care About Politics But Know A Pretty Face When They See One ('masturbatory voters', as they are known): Palin looks incredible for a woman who's given birth to five children and certainly generates more interest in the pants department than Hillary Clinton.

Palin was not as much of a no-brainer choice as she may seem though. McCain's most stringent and resounding criticism of Barack Obama is that he is inexperienced and not ready to govern America. Unsurprisingly given that he's 72 himself, McCain is playing the experience card very highly. Then he goes and chooses a running mate who has been in office for less than two years. Clearly the idea is to inject some youth and excitement into, well, the Republican party, and diversity and shoring up your own weaknesses is a major part of picking a running mate – hence why Obama chose Joe Biden, a famously experienced politician into his sixth term in the Senate. Picking Sarah Palin is at best a risky move and at worse blatant hypocrisy, but it is, of course, difficult for Obama to pick up on because any attack on her pedigree indirectly leads to doubts over his own.

It is always controversial to 'take the man, not the ball' and focus on a person rather than their politics. It is doubly controversial when that person is a woman, because you are accused of rampant sexism. But in American politics is hard to consider it any other way, because even when you are picking a future Vice-President you are picking personality rather than policy. The running mate is a means to an end; someone to help you to get into the hot seat, not share it with you when you're there. John McCain himself has repeatedly said the vice-presidency amounts to little more than "attending funerals and checking on the health of the President", so we probably shouldn't believe him too readily when he says he wants to work closely with her in the White House. She's his ticket there; not his bedfellow.

And it might just work. Palin will attract some of the disenchanted Hillary supporters from the Democratic camp, who don't need much persuading – many are of the 'Hillary 12' crowd, keen for Obama to lose the election so Mrs Clinton can take over after winning the next one. The idea of wanting your party to lose is, I think, inexplicable, but there you go. Palin's appointment is also helping the Republican party to provide a more united front than the Democrats are doing at the moment, thanks to Clinton & Co (though they have triggered one of the best acronyms in recent political history: Party Unity My Ass).

The sad truth is that John McCain is probably going to win this election. Seeing how he and Sarah Palin cope will be interesting. Personally, I'd have preferred Michael Palin. Now THAT would be a story.

Victory for pedants everywhere.

Well, this sucks.

BBC Brandishes its Daily Mail morals
McCain waits on Murphy's Law
Glock pulls Hamilton out of the fire

Sigh. The Daily Mail wins again.

I'm sure you all know what’s happened regarding Russell Brand, Jonathan Ross and the 'satanic slut' granddaughter of a certain Fawlty Towers star, but for those deaf, blind hole-dwelling Martians amongst you, here's the gist. Russell Brand invites Jonathan Ross to his Saturday night show on Radio 2, and before long the two start discussing Brand's relationship with Georgina Baillie, the granddaughter of Andrew Sachs, who played Manuel in the classic sitcom Fawlty Towers. Brand mentions that she belongs to "a baroque dance group called the satanicsluts.com", and that he and she had done the dirty. The pair leave four messages on Andrew Sachs' answerphone, in which they such things as "he fucked your granddaughter" and "She was bent over the couch." A condensed transcript is here.

Since then, all hell has broken loose (this is the good thing about doing this blog only once a week: even if some things aren't up to date, you can look at a whole story as it develops – here's a useful BBC timeline of the affair). Jonathan Ross has been suspended from the BBC for three months without pay, Radio 2 controller Lesley Douglas has resigned and Russell Brand has voluntarily left the BBC. Gordon Brown and David Cameron have waded into the affair. Even Noel Gallagher has an opinion, though why he thinks we should care is beyond me. This is the mountain of all molehills.

People's opinions on the broadcast vary. Some say it's sickening and Brand and Ross should lose their jobs. Some say it shouldn't have happened, but the level of outcry is ridiculous. And some say the broadcast is brilliant. Personally, I just don't think it's very funny. Brand's a hit-and-miss comedian, and this is not one of his finer moments.

I do, however, have renewed respect for him that he fell on his sword, leaving the BBC, not because he should have done – and I don't think he should have done – but because he took responsibility for something only partially his fault (the show being pre-recorded, the producers have to take some of the blame). As for Ross, he'll suffer more from the incident, and perhaps correctly: the transcript will show you that he basically started the whole thing and has very little comedy to add to the proceedings anyway.

But the long and short of it is that their punishments were triggered by The Mail On Sunday, which started a campaign against them (and also ran ridiculous non-stories with badly captioned pictures such as this). There were only two actual complaints about the show – both against Ross' language. Then The Mail got involved with its sense of moral outrage, raised the pitchfork-wielding masses into action and two talented men have their careers in jeopardy for something admittedly stupid but so inoffensive that Andrew Sachs himself didn’t feel it was necessary to do anything about it.

And now The Mail gloats. I don't think I could hate that paper more.

So, it looks like Wednesday's headlines – or, given the epic counting process, more like Thursday's or even next week's – will be 'Obama wins election in historic landslide'. Or, if you're a tabloid reader, 'MCCAINED'. Or, if you're a Daily Mail reader, 'Terror sweeps nation as black man holds world at his feet'.

Everyone needs to calm down a bit. It's not won yet. I know it would take something approaching a statistical miracle for Obama to lose now; that he has a six-point lead and the Republicans are already planning post-election strategies. McCain even looks like he's going to lose Arizona, his home state. Regardless of who is your incumbent, if you're losing Arizona to the Democrats you're really not having a good election.

I'm just saying: don't rule out a freak McCain victory. The main principle of Murphy's Law stipulates that "if anything bad can happen, it will happen" – and I can't think of anything worse than this.

McCain does seem to be trying his best to lose though. He's even talked about his plans to retire and spend more time with his family after the election. Don't say that! Never talk about what you're going to do if you lose. What makes it even worse for him is that the main concern for Republican voters is over his age – telling them you're all set up for a white picket fence and a rocking chair is the worst thing you can do. I'm all for honesty in politicians – sometimes, unrealistically so – but even if he was asked a direct question to this effect he wouldn't have to lie. Just say, "We can still win this" – which they can, even if it has to involve meteorites, a strangely specific outbreak of plague among Democrat voters and, in the words of Oliver Burkeman in G2, Obama having "an extramarital affair with a gay terrorist".

I'm less optimistic. McCain can still win this election, and stranger things have happened. If Obama wins, you've got plenty of time to celebrate – four years, if he doesn't cock everything up somehow. I know it sounds stupid to worry about tempting fate, and that is literally all I have this argument based on. But, at least for me, if not America and the world, just keep that champagne in the fridge for now, OK?

You lucky, lucky bastard.

Oh BBC, when will you learn? After many previous examples of ambiguous and misleading headlines on their news website, you'd think they'd pay a bit more attention to what they're writing. But then the point, I suppose, is to draw readers in, and nothing does that more than suggesting the First Lady of America wants to be in a porn movie.

This time it's global war, and President-elect Barack Obama's new approach to tackling Iran. Yes, approach. Not attack.

The BBC's headline is 'Obama promises new tack on Iran. Now read that at a glance and what does that look like? Yes. 'Obama promises new attack on Iran'. Now that's a very different thing, and personally I think choosing such an easily misread word is a tad irresponsible.

Think on, BBC. Think on.

I must apologise for some naughty words appearing in this post. Such are the dangers of talking about professional football. Rest assured, though, that it's not me providing the swearing – it's the managers. Irresponsible bastards.

The blog's also a bit truncated – i.e. short – this week. After a hefty analysis of the first Obama vs. McCain debate last week, I thought it might be best for me to give American politics a rest this time round, even with the Palin/Biden showdown having taken place this week. So this is more lightweight, in focus and pounds of virtual paper.

Finally, you may have noticed a new section to the blog, available on the wall to the top-right of the page, as promised in my last post. There's nothing on it yet, but it'll happen, and it'll be about online journalism (well, I find it interesting). You may choose to ignore it or you may choose to read it. Obviously I'd prefer it if you did read it but just so you know: it won't be my opinions on the week that passed, as this is. It's not really affiliated with Huw Davies' Week Spot. Well, it is, because it's me writing it. But it's not the same blog. It's not the same sphere. It's not the same Huw Davies.

It's blogging, Jim, but not as we know it.

And now: normal service resumes.

Chancer of the Exchequer
Churchill vs. The Daleks
FuKinnear

The BBC reports that Alistair Darling, Chancellor of the Exchequer, has said he is willing to take "some pretty big steps" to stabilise British banking and the economy.

GOOD.

I'm not saying he should, necessarily, because I don't understand economics enough to suggest whether interference would be appropriate or not, and whether taking steps would be better than waiting it out. But I'm certainly glad to hear he is willing to take pretty big steps. You'd hope so. Otherwise, what is the point in government?

He also said he was looking at "a range of proposals". That is not convincing. Apart from the fact that every politician in the history of the world ever has said that exact sentence – or at least, none that I know of has said, "We are not looking at a range of proposals" – it's disconcerting to hear it from the Chancellor of the Exchequer because it doesn't tell us anything.

It is not news. Or rather, it shouldn't be. I'd hope that we are confident enough in our government to know they would take the steps necessary to bring this country out of a hole. We should be. We shouldn't, however, have to be reassured they would.

The fact is that people want something more concrete than that. Back in the day it was good enough to hear "Hey everybody, it's gonna be OK" when the economy was hitting the fan, but now, when people are completely, horribly terrified of losing their money, they want to know the Government has a plan – not that it will find one, but that it has one. Until then, words are not enough. And, as Obama and McCain's failure to immediately convince the majority about their plans for the economy proved (sorry, that's the last I say about America), people are happy – well, not happy, but prepared – to learn a bit more about financial politics than they previously were. That's the level of trust we have in our politicians now. And given that Darling thinks we can still be placated by vague promises, it's justified and probably necessary.

Sad, innit?

It was Magazine Week all last week (or this week, if anyone reads this as soon as I post it), and to celebrate, Borders booksellers offered a buy-one-get-one-half-price deal on magazines and magazine subscriptions. Huzzah! Reason at last for me to buy The Oldie without feeling I should spend the money on pretending to be young.

There was also a poll, sponsored by the Periodical Publishers Association (PPA), to find Britain's favourite magazine cover. I know what you're thinking: what kind of sad bastard remembers their favourite front cover to a magazine? So to help us all out, a team of industry experts nominated some and whittled them down to a 'best of the best' shortlist of 16. Here they all are.

As those of you who have just looked at that link know, the Radio Times Dalek cover won. I'm not disappointed as such; more indifferent. I mean, it's an all right cover, I suppose. I'm not overwhelmed, but I'm not underwhelmed either. I'm 'whelmed'. It's a striking image to put on a front cover, but the 'Vote Dalek' slogan doesn't actually make any sense – it's just a very tenuous tie-in to the General Election that was happening at the time (if anything, it probably gained some votes from people taking the slogan as an order). So it's not all that clever, or clever at all in fact. Still, it doesn't need to be, and that's why it won. It's simple and it grabs your attention – and that's the point. Still, it'd be a downright lie to deny that a lot of those votes were members of the public thinking, "Ooh, Daleks!"

I honestly thought the NME's Beth Ditto cover would win, but I just as honestly hoped that Time Out would. It takes some balls to stick it to Winston Churchill – look how badly Hitler fared – but to do it on the anniversary of his death in the midst of some serious Churchillmania is about the bravest thing you can do as the editor of a magazine. Not only that but it's an amazing, attention-grabbing front cover; not to mention beautifully ironic in using Churchill's own 'V' sign as a 'fuck you' to the man himself.

It's a shame that Time Out is purely just a 'What's On' read now because we need some more political ferocity in our magazines, but maybe a guide to London isn't the best vessel for that. Still, we need something – before we all start voting Dalek.

I'm sure you've all heard by now about Joe Kinnear's verbal tirade against certain members of the media in his first official press conference as Newcastle manager. If not, here it is in its full glory. I love The Guardian for printing this, but in all honesty it's hard not to when, as a journalist, you hear, "Write what you like. Makes no difference to me."

Choosing the best bit of this fantastic rant – please read all of it – is hard, but my personal favourites are the start –

"Which one is Simon Bird?"

"Me."

"You're a cunt."

- and the end:

"Enjoyed getting back in the swing of things?"

"Absolutely. I've loved every moment of it."

I actually don't have much to say about Kinnear's outburst except that I would love it to happen in football more often – love it. It's great to see a football manager wearing his heart on his sleeve and holding his career with invisible tongs. And it's not as if it was a one-off: brilliantly, Kinnear had to watch his first game in charge of Newcastle from the stands because he never finished serving a touchline ban at Nottingham Forest four years ago.

He was, of course, wrong to have such a go at the press. They reported the truth: that he had taken a day off from training on his first day of work, and they merely cast aspersions to tensions at the club – which, when you're in the relegation zone with allegedly one of the strongest squads in the country (uh... ), is likely to be the case. And as manager, however temporarily, of a team in difficulties, Kinnear should be trying to calm the waters, not rock the boat.

But I can't judge someone who provides me with that much entertainment. And thanks to Everton's wavering concentration before and after the half-time break, Newcastle grabbed a 2-2 draw today. Maybe there's life in the old Toon yet.

Perhaps not for Spurs though.

Changes in life, however small, can make you think quite deeply. New purchases can help us to take on fresh challenges, do new things and achieve our dreams. They can draw a line in the sand between the old and the new; the past and the present; the present and the future. They can represent a new you, or help you to develop the old one.

And I can write this on my new laptop in half the time it usually takes because Microsoft Word isn't crashing every few sentences.

An Impolite Police (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love To Rant)
Bye Bye Beijing - Time for a Whole Lotta London
Here Comes the Science
Tories and YouTubers in 'Sense of Humour Failure' Shocker
Picture Puzzle: Another Prick In The Wall

Forgive me while I go a bit Daily Express "It's a bloody outrage" on you, but I find myself increasingly disturbed upon hearing about policemen and women abusing their authority. I'm not talking about inside men on bank heists or anything – this isn't The Bill – but minor violations of the law committed for no reason. They show there are a lot of officers who feel that because they wear a police badge they can do whatever the hell they want.

This week I read that a man was arrested for taking a photo of a policeman who had driven through a 'no entry' sign (well, not literally, but you know what I mean). Andrew Carter generously pointed out the officer's mistake, to which PC Aqil Farooq responded, "F*ck off, this is police business." Carter took a photo of the van and its driver, and Farooq, suddenly abandoning whatever business he had in the Bristol chip shop that was so important he could ignore road signs, ran out and knocked the camera from his hand. He then arrested Carter for being drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law (none of which happened). Carter was handcuffed, had his fingerprints taken, was forced to give a DNA sample and spent five hours in gaol before being released on bail.

Somewhat defeating the object of opinion-writing journalism, I don't have much to say about this story, except that it makes me very angry. Yes, I know that most police officers aren’t like Farooq and that it's just an isolated incident blown up by a self-righteous alarmist press etc. etc., but I'm firmly of the opinion that anyone in a responsible public position – be they a politician or a lowly policeman – should have to pay the consequences for any deliberate misdeeds made on duty. Everyone makes mistakes, sure, but this wasn't a mistake. It was deliberate false arrest and wrongful imprisonment. Farooq showed that he was making a mockery of his job and, quite simply, should have been sacked.

Instead, he was made to apologise in person to Andrew Carter. Well, that’s all right then. Let bygones be bygones, let water pass under the bridge and let Farooq do it again to some other poor unsuspecting sod. Because he hasn't learnt his lesson. Why would he have done?

I've never liked the idea of having to apologise to someone being a punishment. When you're a child, maybe. But when you're an adult committing a professional crime, it's not quite enough, somehow. Farooq's boss also said, "he acknowledged what he did was wrong", which is taken straight out of the mouth of a chiding parent.

Pathetic. Sorry, is that not tabloid enough? It sickens me to the very core. That's better.

It's not often I agree with an idea suggested in a letter to The Daily Telegraph. I do enjoy reading them, usually for the terrified paranoia that Britain is going to be invaded by immigrant criminals at the behest of port-swilling Brussels bureaucrats (or the glum acceptance that it's already happened), but rarely do I agree with anything they're saying.

But one reader proposed that, if the British Government is so desperate for London 2012 Olympics money (and it is), it should make use of the fervour currently sweeping the nation and ask for voluntary donations to the fund. Good idea.

The public will have to put up some money anyway, and possibly for a long time afterward: Montreal hosted the Olympics in 1976, and Quebecian taxpayers were still paying for the main stadium, 'The Big O(we)', in December 2006 – more than 30 years later. Since no one likes taxes, raising them nearer the time to pay for the Olympics will make whomsoever is running the country by then very unpopular. It makes sense to ask for some of that money now, rather than demand it later. You may mock, but people have got carried away in the excitement of it all, especially since this British success has come as such a surprise (doesn't it always?). Ask the public to put its money where its mouth is and while it's still agape with shock, cash should come flowing out. Well, some will anyway; I'm not expecting millions to miraculously materialise overnight. But you never know.

The Beijing Olympics have, after all, provided an incredible spectacle. It takes some effort to sweep human rights abuses and some of the highest levels of air pollution in the developed world under the red carpet but by gum, they managed it (Chinese efficiency, you see). The opening ceremony stunned everyone into silence – even nine-year-old Lin Miaoke, who was meant to be singing – and the athletes did their bit too. I can even forgive Usain Bolt for being only two months older than me, because he's my kind of athlete. It's been a literally marvellous showcase of sport and athletics performed by competitors at the peak of their powers – exactly how the Olympics should be.

And most importantly for Britain in these crucial Games, we've done pretty well. 47 medals including 19 golds, placing Team GB 4th in the medals table, has shown that we'll be ready even if our stadiums won't. Cycling, sailing, rowing: it just goes to show that if we plucky Brits put our mind to it, we can be worldbeaters... as long as we're allowed to sit down.

And the British people want a great London Olympics. They're feeling inspired, but in all likelihood, most of them are too lazy to go down the gym or get the bike out of the garage; why not exploit their nationalistic euphoria by relieving them of their money and make them feel like they're contributing?

(Since you ask: no, I won't be paying anything.)

I did find it interesting, though, to hear that Led Zeppelin had to change the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love, which was performed at the handover ceremony on Sunday. Apparently "I'm gonna give you every inch of my love" is a bit risqué. It makes sense, perhaps, to change the line to "every bit of my love" – especially since Leona Lewis was singing it and, well, being a woman she doesn't have any inches to speak of – but it did remind me a bit of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' appearance on The Simpsons:

"The network has a problem with some of your lyrics. Do you mind changing them for the show?"

"Our lyrics are like our children, man – no way."

"OK, but here where it says, 'What I got you gotta get and put it in ya', how about just, 'What I'd like is I'd like to hug and kiss ya'?"

"Wow, that's much better. Everyone can enjoy that."

Personally, I find it ironic that in a celebration of Britain's emerging young talent, the music was provided by aged rockers reforming after nearly 30 years. Still, at least they're brilliant. It could so easily have been Take That.

One of my bête noirs – the one that isn't pretentious use of French – is scientists coming up with utterly useless discoveries.

Sometimes they're already obvious, sometimes they're just completely inapplicable to anything and sometimes they're both, but they happen all the time. If it's not a geneticist declaring that black parents have black children, it's a behavioural analyst claiming that people who had a happy childhood are more socially able than those who spent their formative years crying in a box. One case that irritated me last year was a study erroneously and irresponsibly claiming that pupils born later in the school year do "significantly worse" than those born up to a year earlier. My vitriol on that report has already been spent here.

Now Dr Will Brown has 'discovered' that men find "shorter, slimmer females with long slender legs, a curvy figure and larger breasts" most physically attractive. Well... obviously.

What is the point in dedicating time and money to this study? Even if the report has a scientific revelation somewhere (and I'm not sure it does), surely there is little merit in its results because everybody already knew them. It's so stupid. You get the feeling, too, that he would have found this out a lot quicker just by observing life had he not spent his in the lab.

The study also found that people prefer symmetry in a face, defusing the argument that "Everyone loves a face with character" (a character with a face, that's what you want). Again, we know this. And what exactly can you do as a result of these findings anyway? Get a face transplant? New body dimensions? Why would a scientist bother wasting his intelligence on investigating such a pointless issue?

It's not easy to make this argument as someone who wants to write for a living. After all, what am I doing to change the world? Would it be fair for me to say that anyone who commits themselves to a life of research should make sure it's cancer-related? No. But their research could at least be useful. And I personally don't believe that, when he was studying, Dr Will Brown dreamt he could one day blow apart the myth that most men are physically attracted to tall women with broad shoulders and no breasts. All we can do is hope that these people look inside themselves and use their experience more responsibly.

But I'm not hopeful. "In his next study, Dr Brown plans to prove how attractively tall men with short legs are able to dance."

WHY?

You can, of course, take the 'time and money' argument too far, as the Conservative Party did this week. I don't know if it was them personally or the Official Opposition line that has to be taken on things like this, but it did not endear me to Cameron & Co. in the slightest.

The Government recently released a short video response to the online petition asking for Jeremy Clarkson to become Prime Minister. Watch it here. It's less than a minute long and seems to have been made with a handheld video camera and Microsoft PowerPoint. No10 themselves admitted, "A member of staff put it together in a spare half-hour."

And what's the Tories' response? "While the British public is having to tighten its belt the Government is spending taxpayers' money on a completely frivolous project. This shows how detached the Labour Party has become from the concerns of the British people."

They're not alone. Some of the many angry YouTube comments include "waste of tax money" and "why are they using my money to make youtube videos?"

Surely this is some sort of joke? How much money can that video have cost? And isn't it good that the Government should try to cheer up a despondent public in the middle of a recession? Even if you'd rather politicians stuck to business, it would be insane to claim this is betraying the taxpayer. But that's what the Conservative Party is doing.

Grow up and get a sense of humour.

A fantastic action photo from England's 2-2 draw with the Czech Republic prompted me to think about its deeper meaning. Look closely at the England players in a wall and see what you can learn from their reactions to the free kick being taken. You may see more than you think.

(With thanks to Action Images, WNSL and The Daily Telegraph)

From right to left:

Beckham - distant from the rest, he looks on with barely feigned interest from his safe spot in America/at the far end of the wall. Also stupid enough not to know where his balls are.

Barry - trying hard but looks uneasy not in the middle and has Lampard and Gerrard standing in the way of a link-up with Rooney.

Lampard - wrestling for space with Gerrard and Barry. Higher than the rest but for how long?

Gerrard - holding his breath. So are we, Stevie.

Rooney - ugly bastard.

Ashley Cole - not the face. Or the balls - I need those for, uh, Cheryl. Jump? What do you mean, jump?