Yesterday, I endured the rigors of ‘part privatisation of a National Health Service’. Yes, a chauffeur driven limousine pulled up outside my house, precisely on time, in order to drive me in comfort some 100 miles to the specialist Cancer centre in

As a callow youth of 16 back in that ‘Summer of Love’, I ventured on a school-exchange programme with a similar youth in northern France.  It was the familiar pattern: he came here and stayed with my family

In their quest to create the perfect soldier, the perfect citizen and the perfect State the Spartans created a culture which would inspire many, and appall others. Hitler was one admirer of their ruthless practice of

The Canadian Mounties always get their man. In this case, one of their own.

After a nine month undercover operation – painstakingly taking plaster casts of tyre tracks, deploying the dog sniffer teams, forensic tents filled with scurrying

David Leigh has had a brainstorm. A remarkably altruistic brainstorm, it has to be said, since it is intended to save the future of the ‘quality newspapers’ and Leigh works for, er, The Guardian.

Leigh is an ‘investigative journalist’. I think that means

The air-waves and cyber-waves are fair buzzing with the debate on whether or not ‘to arm our police’. Everybody and his maiden aunt has a definitive view.

On Sunday morning, the BBC fielded its usual ‘balanced panel’ to discuss

I have to talk about Shopping Trolleys. Naturally, I do not expect you to do so, unless you are a follower of Tesco, the One True God, and his Revealed Word, the Holy Clubcard. For you to do

In the early hours of this morning, one of the corner anchors of the blogosphere quietly disentangled his restraining cords and floated off into cyberspace.

In the past few months, we have lost many of those anonymous souls who gave

Why, exactly, do we care about HRH the Duchess of Cambridge’s breasts?

Actually, to me, as a lawyer, what is more interesting is how privacy law is increasingly being used as an excuse for empty ‘moralising’ by

We have a feral underclass. It is a statement many bloggers make daily – but we do not think too deeply about it. We don’t go out in the morning, leave food out for the cat, drop our kids off at child care –

Like Marley’s ghost, rattling the chains of Old Labour, the spectre of David Blunkett hove into view this morning.

He is giving ‘delivering a pamphlet’ – an upmarket version of writing a blog post, except that his has a forward

From Hillsborough to Hillingdon in 24 hours. Here we go.

On Tuesday, Mark Neary, Father of Steven Neary, whose battles with the rotten borough of Hillingdon I have documented many times, Continue reading →

My regular readers will be well aware that I am a Scouse. Born, bred and married in that peculiar sub-culture of Liverpool known as either ‘bitterly deprived’, by the legion of North London champagne socialist journalists who pontificate on these

The Green Party conference in Bristol is turning into the gift that keeps on giving.

On Friday we heard that the Party of just ONE MP (fielded 300 candidates, just one elected) was the new opposition. All one of them. The entire Labour

Sir Tony Baldry hasn’t had a good day. First he got a parking ticket when he just popped into Poundland, as your average penny saving MP does.

Then he bent down to retrieve the parking ticket whilst starting his car up. Whoops! Car lurches