Run with Eric [Search results for Crime] 

This is where I break down the unattractive reader-author barrier and get personal. Call it unprofessional; call it a desperate cry for help. I call it both.

I'm flying to Madeira tomorrow, and in the hubbub of planning I may have to resort to an abridged post next week. But I'll still be reading the news, and it's fair to say some of it caught my eye this week.

Rest assured that if you read all the news stories in the Beijing piece (I got a bit link-happy), you'll have enough of other people's writing, at least, to tide you over for a bit.

Beijing: King of the Bling but reputation suffering
Prophet Muhammad novel postponed
Women on the warpath (supposedly)
Ronaldo plays the waiting game

The lights, the noise, the spectacle – and yet what I’ve been drawn to most about the Beijing Olympics is the politics.

China has made it fantastically clear that it doesn’t want any trouble. At all. That means no complaints, please, be they about human rights, pollution or just good old fur. You have to wonder what would have happened if Tommie Smith and John Carlos had made their famous Black Power salute in these Olympics. Presumably they’d have been shot by a sniper from the Chinese government.

Protests about China’s…interesting past, present and probably future history with human rights abuses have come from everywhere, and it is fascinating to see how they are handled. Treatment from Chinese police (or Nepalese allies) towards people protesting about human rights issues seems to depend on where you come from, and reports abound about violence towards protestors.

The Chinese authorities saw this coming (guilty conscience any?) and made the ‘necessary’ precautions, but it’s fair to say they’ve raised a few eyebrows. My particular favourite is the protest pens, which have to be one the most inspired inventions in the history of the Olympics or some sort of ironic joke. Want to protest against our government’s practices? Apply for permission first, and if you’re lucky enough to get it, you can do it in an area cordoned off for troublemakers such as yourself. You can’t protest anywhere else. Human rights issues? What human rights issues?

These political problems, and the tragic death of an American tourist to the Games,

have cast a dark cloud over the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Look, there it is. You can see it. Smog has been an issue for China ever since it realised its pollution problems were at serious odds with blue-sky thinking, and even its most drastic measures to reduce it – including the destruction or relocation of cars, factories and people – don’t seem to have worked (though the gaffer tape has). Of particular interest to me were the American cyclists who wore masks to combat the pollution, and then had to apologise for insulting the Chinese. If they find that insulting, they should really avoid watching The Dark Knight. China doesn’t come out of it all that well.

All in all, it’s going to be a memorable Olympics, but not necessarily for the right reasons.

Probably for the best.

On Saturday BBC Online reported that, according to the Police Federation of England and Wales, “increasing numbers of violent women are stretching police resources”. They were backed up by police in Scotland and Northern Ireland – for balance purposes, you see – saying, “anecdotally”, that they have also seen an increase in female violence.

“Anecdotally”? You have to be careful of using that kind of evidence in a news story. In fact, is it even a news story? Or just some drunken pub talk from officers off the beat?

Chairman of the Police Federation, Paul McKeever, said, “Clearly there is an increase in the number of women who use violence in their everyday life and when they are out drinking on the streets around the country”.

Clearly. And clearly that’s not a generalisation at all. To be fair, statistics do partly back him up: there has been a 25% rise in crimes committed by girls between the ages of 10 and 17 in the last three years. The next sentence in the report: “Men and boys are still more likely to be involved in violent crime, however.”

Men and boys are still more likely to be involved in violent crime, however. That’s an important sentence. And when your only evidence for “increasing numbers of violent women” is for one particular age group, almost certainly matched by an increase in crimes committed by their male counterparts, and backed up by anecdotes, you’re on shaky ground.

But maybe I’m being naïve. Maybe my non-prediction last week of an increase in female violence has come true and they’ve exploited newly lax laws to attack everything and everyone in sight. Dear God, soon they will overwhelm we poor men, beguiling us with their feminine wiles, charming us into a dark alley and then stabbing us fatally with a five-inch stiletto heel (sorry, I’ve been in Essex too long).

Or, alternatively, this is a poorly-researched non-story that borders on sexism, for which the police and the BBC are equally culpable for a) bringing it up and b) reporting it.

It will be interesting to see the reaction Cristiano Ronaldo gets from the Manchester United fans at the start of this season. Having flirted with a high-money, high-profile move to Real Madrid, he has now committed his future to Manchester United.

Well, I say future. A year, at least. He insists he will “play for United with all [his] heart and soul”, but he’s openly admitted it’s still his dream to move to Madrid, and the smart odds are on the Madeiran w(h)inger sunning himself in Madrid this time next year (William Hill’s offering 5-6).

His 42 goals last season will probably ensure he gets a better reception that Emmanuel Adebayor did at the Emirates a week ago, but it will be hard for United fans to shake off a sense of mistrust towards Ronaldo, especially after some ill-chosen words this week. Alex Ferguson might not have helped matters by saying, “The boy has been through some troubled times in terms of the approaches from the people in Spain” – is choosing between two offers to do what you love for insane amounts of money really “troubled times”? – and then Ronaldo himself put his foot in it attempting to defend himself against claims he’s a money-grabber. “If it was just a question of money,” he said, “I would never leave Manchester United.” That both leaves the door open for a move in the near future and implies he’s been motivated by money this time round – after all, he wants to play for Real and he’s demanding £140,000 a week at United. Not a fantastic defence, all told.

He knows he’s got time yet to play for Real – he’s only 23 – and it’s good, I suppose, that he’s being quite so honest about it, but I’m not sure United fans will see it that way.

This is just a brief respite from my enforced silence to highlight this story and the reporting of it.

First up, The Sun has reacted with typical understanding and calm, making a towering mountain out of the smallest of molehills by highlighting every alleged error. And yes, I do mean alleged. Bad handwriting is not a crime, and frankly I - yes, even I - can excuse a couple of spelling mistakes from a man with a lot on his mind.

It's another example of The Sun's, and most other tabloids', confused politics of war. They want to beat the big nasty terrorists, but they want Our Brave Boyz out of Iraq. They complain about soldiers having substandard equipment, but complain about military overspending (or at least tax, which falls easily under their 'Gordon Brown Iz Rubbish Innit' banner). And they want Brown to do everything at once, but take time out of his schedule to write a perfectly-constructed letter in iambic pentameter to grieving parents with a chip on their shoulder about the war even happening in the first place.

Secondly, both The Sun and the BBC included an addendum along the lines of, "Mr Brown has previously admitted problems with his eyesight." Because naturally THAT'S relevant.

Thirdly, all hail Number 10 spokespeople for yet another idiotic press statement - one of my favourite yet - which runs: "[Gordon Brown] would never knowingly misspell anyone's name." Brilliant. It's good to know that even in times of stress, our Prime Minister doesn't say to himself, "That David Cameron really pisses me off. I know what I'll do. I'll write him a letter addressed to 'Mr Camron'. That'll really get him."

Lastly, the woman complaining about the letter in the first place has found completely the wrong outlet for her grief, and shouldn't have been given the publicity (and certainly not with the grim picture The Sun arranged of her holding her son's photograph - it just reminds me of this brilliant website).

I just wish the reporters had included all of the spelling mistakes I am absolutely sure she committed in her own letter. Muphry's Law is an absolute gem.

I'd have written more, but I'm afraid the BNP might lynch me.

[Disclaimer: to my knowledge, Jeff Stelling is not a Nazi.]

The BNP's 'little list' comes to light
The Sun drops the ball on Hitler
Countdown to oblivion

One of the funnier news stories this week has been the online publication of the BNP's members list. Everyone in the UK who is a member of the British National Party has had their names, addresses, phone numbers and in some cases e-mail addresses, professions and hobbies (racism!) broadcast to the world via the internet, and unsurprisingly, perhaps, most of them are now cowering in fear. What happened to the BNP being loud and proud?

OK, I'll be nice: it is understandable that these people are worried about having their membership and details leaked. After all, the BNP is a divisive party that has attracted its fair share of opposition.

Having your personal details made available for all to see is a bad experience for anyone (don't forget this is a pretty big invasion of privacy) but when you're hated by a lot of people, it's very dangerous. I know it'd worry me if people on the internet knew my home address, and I'm not on a vendetta against half of the country. And think how much worse it must be for these BNP members. In their minds, any violence or crime in the country is committed by immigrants, and now these Untermenschen know where they live. To the bunkers! Child, get my gun! The blacks want their revenge!

But again, I shouldn't laugh at the fact that BNP members, however detestable, have their details on display because guess what – the backlash has already begun. And when you add to these personal threats the potential for identity fraud and violence, you can see why the list should probably be taken down.

Still, it's funny, isn't it? And it is at least good for them to feel how they make so many others feel: threatened. Even if their details are removed from the internet tomorrow (and regrettably, they should be), they have had just under a week of discomfort, anxiety or even terror. That is definitely worth it.

It's just a shame that members have, in fact, been threatened, because it only contributes to their feeling of victimhood. Whenever anyone calls the BNP rubbish they claim we're denying the truth (look at their response to Hazel Blears' recent accusation) and whenever we stop them spreading their racial hatred they claim we're denying their right to free speech, which only helps their cause. So for humanity's sake, we need to stay above their level. I only hope no one uses the publication of its members' details to start some actual violence against the BNP.

If you're interested and/or suspicious of anyone, here is the list at the imaginatively-titled www.bnpmemberslist.co.uk. Speaking of moral responsibility, I'm not sure how mature the e-mail responses made by the site's creator are, but I did laugh at the line, "I realise it must be tough for you during these times of free speech, democracy and gangster rap", followed by, "I hope you enjoyed the US election."

Fine, I'm a child.

If there's ever been a story to have tabloid editors wetting themselves in delight, it's this one. It's official: Hitler had only one ball. Let the mocking, singing and football hooliganism commence.

What I want to know is: where did The Sun find that absolutely perfect photo?
Still, it's good of the newspaper not to launch a campaign against Johan Jambor, claiming he should have killed Hitler when he had the chance. There's actually a surprisingly small amount of anti-Germanic feeling in the whole article. Good on you, boys.

But then that's the The Sun for you: occasionally, they show evidence of having ethical standards in their paper. Now never mind the bollocks – here's the sex pictures.

Oh God.

The daytime TV staple for tax-dodging students and coffin-dodging geriatrics everywhere, Countdown, has announced its new presenter and sidekick combo. The new Carol Vorderman is to be Rachel Riley, which is one hell of a graduate job for the 22-year-old and hopefully one that won't lead to her demanding huge salaries and repossessing people's homes through dodgy debt consolidation agencies, and the new Richard Whiteley/Des Lynam/Des O'Connor is to be Sky Sports presenter Jeff Stelling. Jeff Stelling! Wowzers!

For those of you who don't know, Jeff Stelling is the presenter of Soccer Saturday, and one of the most annoying men on television. Have a look at the man in action. He's insane.

Stelling is quite famous for doing crazy stuff such as this, but look beyond the James Brown bit into the way he actually speaks – like he's desperately trying not to go to the toilet and keeps being prodded in the back at unspecified intervals. He just keeps shouting random words for no reason. He's going to be bloody awful presenting Countdown "A SEVEN, eh, GORDON? That's NOT BAD but it's not a 9-LETTER WORD, IS IT? SUSIE! What have YOU GOT over there in Dictionary CORNER?" They'd be better off with Brian Blessed.

Actually, that would be brilliant.

Ah, the importance of reading a whole story before drawing conclusions.

My first reaction to this little piece of gold (originally seen on the Bad Science forums) was, in my head, "Has the world gone mad?" and verbally something I probably shouldn't repeat here. Rest assured it was along the lines of "Oh for Puck's sake".

But then you read the facts behind the conspiracy and you realise that you can agree with some aspects of taste and even political correctness if, y'know, they actually make sense.

The problem with the film Righteous Kill being advertised in Stockwell tube station, the site of the de Menezes shooting, is not that it's a violent film - if that was the issue, you'd be justified in calling me a Daily Mail reader (incidentally, did anyone see the tabloids yesterday screaming 'IMMIGRANTS HAVE STOLEN ALL OUR JOBS'? Sigh). But no, the issue is the film's tagline, which takes on wonderful irony in context of de Menezes' tragic death.

"There's nothing wrong with a little shooting as long as the right people get shot."

More than anything else, it's very funny. But then not everyone has the same dark sense of humour as I do. If it was deliberate marketing, it's a work of genius but also more than a little sick; if it was accidental, it was stupid.

OF COURSE people were going to be offended. I think removing the poster would be completely justified.

Either that or people get a darker sense of humour, but given that de Menezes lies dead for a crime he didn't commit, I can forgive them for not plunging those depths just yet.

Politics both sides of the Atlantic remains as hostile as ever as politicians bite, punch and scratch each other, grappling and grasping on the greasy pole of power for a slightly better purchase and a slightly better view before inevitably slipping, sliding and falling, falling, falling into public shame and ignominy, a seat on the back benches and an autobiography explaining how none of it was their fault and they're the nice guys really – it's the other ones you want to watch out for.

Elections mean one thing, and that's politicians electing to destroy one another. Or at least to kill their rivals' careers. This week, David Miliband elects to kill off Gordon Brown, John McCain elects to kill off Barack Obama and wives electing to kill off their abusive husbands get some good news from the Government.

All in all, it's enough to make you think that Britain's much-publicised problem with knife crime could be helped if Cabinet ministers stopped plunging them into each other's backs.

Miliband begins to play
On the negative campaign trail
Getting away with manslaughter

"It came to me in a dream," Foreign Secretary David Miliband told me over tea at high noon the other day. "I was contemplating the Lisbon Treaty when Tony Blair appeared in front of me, arms outstretched, clutching a sharp instrument. 'Is this a dagger which I see before me,' I asked, 'the handle toward my hand?' 'Yes,' said Tony. 'Now use it. Use it, David, and never look back.' And he disappeared to the Middle East, leaving only his smile.

"I crept by night into Southwold, thinking of nothing but power and glory – and on occasion the future of the Labour Party – as I drew closer to my goal. There lay Gordon, asleep, wearing a jacket and open collar shirt. I knew what I had to do. I thrust my dagger into his cold, Scottish heart. Then I turned to the crowd behind me and proclaimed myself King – of Labour, of the Government, and of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. 'Brown is dead,' I cried. 'Long live David Miliband, Prime Minister.' And the crowd went wild."

But it didn't quite work out like that, did it, David? No – instead your article in The Guardian was seen for the weak challenge to the premiership it was, nobody got behind your cause and rather than hoist you on their shoulders, your colleagues threw you out on your arse. And then a poll showed that your adoring public have even less faith in you than they do in Gordon Brown.

(This poll also indicated that the most popular Labour leader at the moment would be Blair ("Come back, Tony, all is forgiven"). Strange, since twelve months ago everybody hated him and couldn’t wait for him to resign. It just goes to show that hindsight is a wonderful thing.)

I would call it unfortunate that Miliband gauged the opinions of party and public alike so spectacularly badly, but it's just too funny. It must have seemed like such a good idea. But the fact is, despite voters coming to terms with politicians being on the whole sly, devious and ready to do anything for a vote, still no one likes a backstabber.

Miliband's reputation with the public at this stage in his career is as something of a nonentity. Foreign Secretary he may be, but he has not captured the public's attention. That's why he should have waited until he had more of a following, or learnt from the Yes Minister Christmas Special and organised a (better) publicity stunt and then waited for the press to tout him as a potential leader before presenting himself as one to an uninterested public.

However, while British voters can shrug their collective shoulders at his machinations, they can't actually punish his vaulting ambition. His party can. And that’s where the folly in his plan lay. With Miliband revolting and Harriet 'This is my moment' Harman changing the locks at No.10, Gordon Brown probably can't wait to get back from what is essentially a forced holiday (does he look like the kind of person who enjoys going on holiday?), and since he urgently needs to reinforce his authority and wouldn't be likely to suffer much of a backlash, his first act upon returning – apart from informing the milkman – might be to sack David Miliband as Foreign Secretary.

That would certainly be the sensible thing to do. But rumours abound that the PM might just give his errant Foreign Secretary a slap on the wrists and forget – publicly at least – the whole affair. This would be a sign of weakness, not strength. It's time for the chop.

Special offer this week: John McCain's oven chips, best served on his shoulder with a side salad of negative campaigning (and a dressing of poor metaphors).

McCain has hit out again at Barack Obama’s celebrity status. His new TV ad, 'Celeb', uses pictures of Britney Spears and Paris Hilton to accuse Obama of being all mouth and no trousers (though admittedly that worked for Bill Clinton until Hillary found out).

Obama has shrugged this off, but has unfortunately been drawn into a bit of negative campaigning himself, accusing the McCain camp of making his race an issue. While this is quite possibly true, it's not been obviously clear in McCain's campaign, so in pointing it out Obama runs the risk of doing his job for him, appearing to have a chip on his shoulder about perceptions of his colour, and playing The Black Candidate.

Negative campaigning is the way in American presidential elections, of course: it always has been and it always will be. Jeremy Clarkson argued in The Sun – sorry, it was in my Chinese while I was waiting for a takeaway and I've got into the habit of reading whatever paper is put in front of me for the news if not its opinions – that Obama’s pledges are "rabble-rousing gobbledegook" and bet that "no one can name a single one of his policies." He then says McCain is no better. But that’s American elections for you – all character and no politics.

Still, even by normal standards, McCain's campaign is a full-blown attack. He has stayed very quiet about his own qualities, for obvious reasons, perhaps. He is not saying "I can lead", but "Obama can't". He is essentially turning the election into a referendum on whether or not the American public want Obama to president.

Which, sadly, could prove very effective. It's easier to vote against someone than for them, and with McCain still playing the experience card, as Hillary Clinton did with the 3am ad (not that I can find it anywhere on YouTube amidst all the spoofs), there is doubt amongst American voters over Obama's aptitude for the job. As ugly as they are, McCain’s tactics could just win him the election.

Not if Ludacris has anything to do with it, though. It's a shame that Obama has had to distance himself from Ludacris' song Politics As Usual (though he did have to) because it has some absolutely inspired lyrics that confirm Ludacris' place, for me at least, at the top of the American rap pile. "Paint the White House black – I'm sure that's got `em terrified / McCain don't belong in any chair unless he's paralysed."

Brilliant.

Something that concerned me this week were strange changes in homicide laws. The old 'jealous rage' defence is no longer viable for men who murder their partner after finding her in flagrante, reasonably enough, but women living in fear of future violence from their partner could be charged with manslaughter rather than murder if they kill him first. Also charged with manslaughter instead of murder will be parents who kill a paedophile molesting their child and rape victims who kill an attacker taunting them for their misfortune.

First up, that's still murder. Even if you disagree with everything else I say – quite possible – we must agree on the semantics. Deliberately killing someone is murder. Self-defence can bring a charge down to manslaughter. But these cases are not self-defence; they are murders, planned and executed.

Secondly, I apologise for the gender stereotype that men kill their partners in a rage while women wait until the time is ripe, but that's how the law has been made. Melanie McDonagh writes a good piece on the gender generalisation of it all. I’d like to have seen fewer gender-specific words in the plans.

"It will end the injustice of the perpetrators making excuses saying it's not their fault," said Harriet Harman, Deputy Labour Leader, Women’s Secretary and Acting PM. Uh... will it? It will end the injustice of male perpetrators making excuses saying it's not their fault. But it positively encourages women to do it.

Battered wives who kill their husband after years of abuse can now use the defence that they acted in response to "extreme words and conduct" (for some reason, the word "extreme" is in Tuesday’s Telegraph but dropped from the online version of the report). This all sounds a little "He started it" in my eyes. Verbal provocation is not the same as physical abuse in the self-defence stakes.

Besides, what are "extreme words"? "You fucking syphilitic whore"? "I hope you die"? Or does it have to be more personal? "I'm glad you have cancer", for example? How extreme do the words have to be to justify killing the person who says them? The above examples are sickening, but they are still just words, and words are not incitement to murder (or, at least, shouldn't be). It seems that for abusive husbands now, sticks and stones may break your bones, but names can leave you dead.

I don't want to trivialise the issue. But I feel that's what the new proposals are doing. Obviously you will still be punished for killing your spouse, and '’m not saying there will now be a spate of 'justice killings' from raped or beaten women, but the new laws almost encourage people to take the law into their own hands. Allowing the deliberate killing of a rapist to be manslaughter because of his "later taunting" is worrying. It opens the door for people to 'right past wrongs' knowing they won't be charged with murder.

The most serious of crimes has been massively downgraded. Even neighbours' disputes that end in a deliberate killing may now be wiped clean of murder. That is downright scary.

You simply can't legislate for instances that are this specific. What constitutes self-defence? What constitutes provocation? What constitutes incitement to murder? Those are questions for the courts to decide.

This dangerous law needs to be stopped, by any means necessary. Kill it dead. It'll only be manslaughter anyway.

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?

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.