Speaking truth unto power

How's this for a fearless piece of investigative journalism? Also features a classic spelling error from the paper that likes to bemoan falling educational standards.

Monkey see, monkey do…

Turns out that your addiction to porn and gossip magazines is deeply-rooted in our primate brains.

A study involving male monkeys and fruit juice shows that they'll 'pay' (in fruit juice) for a glimpse of a) more powerful monkeys in the troop and b) female monkeys' bottoms.

The researchers suggest that in tribal societies - monkeys and our own - access to information is important to retain cultural capital. So knowing what Tom Cruise had for dinner enables you to relate to others in your group, and may stop you being expelled, ignored or killed! I may be exaggerating slightly.

I'll take my chances with ignorance. Ook!

The Oscar for Irony goes to…

Daniel Day-Lewis for this exchange with Word magazine journalist Tom Teodorczuk:

DD-L: I don't know why people are so fascinated with the lives of actors, to tell you the truth. I haven't met that many terribly interesting actors, to be honest with you. I don't understand the fascination with actors' lives.

Journo: You wrote a memoir called Pictures In My Head. Any other literary ambitions?

DD-L: I'm writing another one. I admire the way Dirk Bogarde turned his career into becoming a writer. That's what I really want to do. There's a bigger picture that I want to document. One of the highlights of my life… [and then he goes into tedious anecdotal detail about why actors' lives are actually fascinating].

This is the news…

I fell asleep with the radio on last night. I heard BBC Radio 4's final midnight bulletin, and the World Service 1 a.m. news.

What was the lead story? Iran? Afghanistan? Haiti (which hasn't once been on the front page of the Daily Mail)?

Er…no. It was Micheal Jackson's doctor's pre-trial hearing. As the first item on British and global news. This is insane. What's happened to news values?

Celebrity Death list

Slim pickings this holiday: there are usually a few notable exits during Christmas. For the first time, I'm hoping Thatcher doesn't die, as the Thatcher Party CD isn't quite ready yet. I was hoping Bruce Forsyth would be summoned Higher. Or preferably Lower (sorry, non-UK people, it's a light entertainment joke).

One death did sadden me - David Taylor, one of those unobtrusive, principled, hardworking MPs of whom you've never heard because he didn't fiddle his expenses or reach ministerial office (in his case, because he was a socialist in the Labour Party).

Ant'n'Dec: why?

Maybe I'm feeling a bit grumpy because I'm ill and temporarily deaf (Demented, if this is a tiny portion of what you're stuck with, my respect for you has risen even higher), but some things have really ground my gears recently.

Chief amongst them are Ant'n'Dec. Now, if you're not a UK-based reader, you may be asking yourself who or what AntnDec are.

They are Death. By this, I'm making an analogy with Western films, rather than the very dignified Death of Pratchett's Discworld, or the good sport of Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. In Westerns, just before the final showdown, a little man with a tape measure runs up to the hero and the villains, measuring them up for coffin size. It's a moment of comic relief. The man is always a little cracked and fussy, and he momentarily relieves some of the tension associated with a violent, possibly unjust death.

AntnDec are similarly ubiquitous. They were poor child actors in a Geordie children's home drama called Byker Grove. Then they became poor quality pop stars as PJ and Duncan, on the basis of their cuteness and strong regional accents (a children's Robson and Jerome, perhaps). After that, it was off to the BBC to present The Ant and Dec Show, then to Channel 4 to do Ant and Dec Unzipped… Before long, they were presenting CD:UK and SM:TV, hugely popular ITV Saturday morning kids' shows. They've since spread like a rash, presenting Ant and Dec's Saturday Takeaway (during which, as executive producers, they shared responsibility for 'taking away' a large amount of money from viewers who rang into closed premium competition lines), Pop Idol, I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here, Britain's Got Talent (it hasn't) and Ant and Dec's Gameshow Marathon.

They are, in essence, the face of a doomed and desperate TV channel. They have no skills, only accents. They pop up, grin inanely, utter something along the lines of 'why-ay' (a Newcastle greeting) and attempt to draw your consciousness away from the emptiness you are contemplating. They are that man, measuring you up for your coffin. It won't help.

There's a lot more. I was awake all last night, occupying my mind with this stuff, but it's all slipped away.

In my absence

In my absence, many things have appeared in my brain which would have occasioned a cyberrant.

Amongst them, of course, was Tony Blair's announcement that he'd have found some other excuse to invade Iraq if he'd definitively known that there weren't any WMDs (which he must have known anyway).

It's not, of course, a surprise that he'd have done this. There are two aspects of the interview which are classic Blair.

1. The 'I did what I thought was right according to my conscience' routine. It's evasive and unacceptable. I could punch my mum and claim that I was being true to myself. It's no defence. Ken Macdonald, the former Director of Public Prosecutions, rightly called it a 'narcissist's defence', and he's right - the only validation, for Blair, is Blair. That's a total rejection of objective standards, law and democracy.

2. There's an inquiry into the Iraq war on (a bit of a whitewash, but at least it's on). Did Blair say these things to the inquiry? No, he bloody didn't. He did what he did right through his premiership: sat on a sofa in a TV studio, answering questions from unqualified light-entertainment presenters. He never hid his contempt for Parliament, and he never went on the serious news shows, like Today, Newsnight or Channel 4 News. Instead, he oiled his way onto shows like Richard and Judy. This time it was Fern Britton, most famous for hosting This Morning, Ready Steady Cook, Soapstar Superstar, Magic Moments, and Mr. and Mrs., alongside a host of other hard-hitting political shows.

Oops

Forgot the most exciting bit. I met The Krankies. They seemed cranky. And they read The Telegraph. Ugh.

Unforgivable

I've said some terrible things about my dear students. I've thought some worse things. Nothing, however, is as awful as what I'm about to say.

I just met one of them. He's had a makeover. He has deliberately made himself look like Jedward, shame of a nation.

Dante would no doubt have his compass out, preparing a fresh circle of hell.

Jim Corr! Earth Calling Jim Corr! Come in please!

Pop stars, as we all know, have a tenuous grip on reality. They expect the world to revolve around them, and most unfortunately of all, they assume that success in their field means that they are equally qualified to pronounce on the pressing issues of the day, despite overwhelming evidence that burying your face in a bowl of cocaine for a living doesn't enhance your scientific, medical, political or ethical skills.

Of course, if it's Bono or Madonna, you might think that their sheer dedication to self-aggrandisement means we should cut them a little slack. Not so for this gentleman.

Ladies and gentlemen: Mr Jim Corr, formerly of The Corrs. Who weren't very good. At all. He's chosen the Path of David Icke. Pray for him.

Another brilliant pronouncement

I don't watch The Apprentice. I can't stand Tories or yuppies, and despise its brand of capitalism. However, Alan Sugar seems to have soaked into the fabric of society like some kind of ineradicable pollution. His announcement today:

Women are their own worst enemies

calls for the simple rejoinder 'Not while you're around Alan'.

Remind me again why everyone from the BBC to the government think he's some kind of genius rather than a shameless and rather dim self-promoter with a mouth bigger than his brain. The Clarkson of business, without the charm or self-awareness.

Dr Cowell Speaks

'Susan Boyle has no 'underlying mental problems', says 'Talent' judge'. Well that's OK then. Perhaps I'll get him to look at my paralysed hand and hunch.