Every year for as long as I can remember, I have been attacked by a stranger between June and August. This year's incident happened over a parking space, after I cheekily parked in an entirely empty, but private, car park on my way to visit the dentist.
Once hailed as a new African hero and a non-racist, his behaviour is now that of the paranoidal pers
Just the other week, the government of Trinidad and Tobago sentenced ten men to the gallows.
Any activist or campaigner should be able to tell you about the problems of powdered baby milk. For a start, unscrupulous drug dealers* keep cutting cocaine with infant formula, which results in extremely healthy, nutritionally enriched nostrils and a good night's sleep.
After a whole month of being a celebrity, Big Brother's "Bubble" - or "the one who sticks his tongue out for the cameras", as you may know him - has said that going to film premieres and being recognised on the street "has been very hard, and there have been times when I've cried".
The erstwhile friend of Tony Blair has made his distaste clear in a way that Labour's spinners canno
The long-awaited trial of Khmer Rouge leaders in Cambodia now seems likely. A court comprising Cambodian and United Nations-appointed judges is all but agreed.
While I was in South Africa, Brixton exploded in a mini riot following the police shooting of a black man in Angell Town: he had got out a cigarette lighter in the shape of a gun, and they had assumed it was a real one.
Cape whites with English origins are the dominant tribe in Cape Town, where I have been with the British Council, tutoring on documentary film-making. They are as distinct and separate from the rest of South Africa as any tribe can be.
There are few things in life lower than a tortoise's arse, except Keith Chegwin's IQ and voter turnout in a Euro election.
I was meeting the director of a charity that puts children aged between six and 16 in contact with adults who can help them. The man with the money lamented that no British children will receive the charity's help for a good while, due to its "terror of the tabloids".
I am in Cape Town now, attending a documentary festival called Encounters. It is not my first time in South Africa. I travelled to Durban once to interview Mangosuthu Buthelezi in the Devil's Advocate hot seat.
At the Hay-on-Wye literary festival in May, leading members of the media and cultural elite assembled in the fine gardens of a Regency house to await the arrival of the great man. They included broadsheet editors, deputy editors, literary editors, ex-editors, novelists, actors and John Birt.
On Edwina Currie's Radio 5 Live show, I annoyed a listener by suggesting that increasing the numbers of police on the streets does not make all locals feel safe or more secure. Some, I said, may even feel more threatened.
All the parties sought its approval during the election, but it sees itself as unravelling the decei
There seems to come a time when just to be "healthy" and "in possession of all my senses" offers a unique satisfaction, and when having a birthday stops being a chore.
President Bush's recent attempts to wreck the UN's efforts to control small arms exports were widely ridiculed by liberals as doing the bidding of America's National Rifle Association.
It was bound to happen, given the febrile end-of-term atmosphere at Westminster. MPs are talking up the prospect of Michael Portillo defecting to the Labour Party. Superficially, it looks right.
Steve, the money-mad entrepreneur, is over from the US. He is in town for our friend Molly's funeral - oh and, as usual, a lot of "pardying".
Readers will expect me to write about Brixton. There is so much at stake that every line written or word said is likely to affect the community in one way or another. Only two facts are available. A young man lay dead on the Angell Town Estate with a gun-shaped cigarette lighter at his side.
Police shot into rioting youth with sleep darts last night, trying to bring to a halt the rampage that had left shops looted, cars ablaze and several hospitals vandalised.
Delving beneath the surface of t'Great Revolt over Commons select committees, it seems that the authorities had good and sufficient reasons to get rid of both Donald Anderson and Gwyneth Dunwoody. Anderson, it is argued, could not control the foreign affairs committee he chaired.
Martin burst out: "How disgusting and ridiculous" - as he read the newspaper article being passed around the table. "I can't believe this French Connection story," he continued.
The more this Bradford business continues, the more the recent and distant pasts illuminate. I recently met young Gary, whom I had known from Race Today's campaigns in Bradford about 30 years ago.
Just over a decade ago, "green issues" were considered to be the preserve of worthy blokes with beards, BO and a T-shirt one size too small for them. The only other time that anyone ever mentioned "green issues" was in the hushed atmosphere of the STD clinic.
It is an imposing sight. Each morning, after he has ironed Peter Mandelson's copy of the Times, Shaun Woodward's butler takes the redisgraced ex- minister's two dogs for a walk in St James's Park. Mandy follows a yard behind, and the Special Branch detective a few paces behind him.
Do you shoot blanks? This is the question on every woman's lips. As evidence grows of the alarming decline in male fertility (nothing, alas, that a little Viagra can solve) women with an eye on procreation are trying to determine whether getting it together with you is just a waste of time.
I am seeking shelter everywhere from the persistent and insistent rays of sunlight. Between 11am and 3pm, all is purgatory. For a few minutes, maybe, the swimming pool, then the ocean, but these provide only momentary relief.
There is a view fashionable in the media that the world is being taken over by huge multinational corporations, accountable to no one. "Governments are reduced to playing the role of servile lackeys to big business," Noreena Hertz, the dissident financier, wrote in these pages recently.