Transatlantic Sessions

No one ever tells you what's on television these days, most of it being rubbish, so it was with delight and frustration that I caught the second half of a BBC4 programme called Transatlantic Sessions.

The finest musicians from the Celtic traditionon played with their counterparts from Nashville. Paul Brady remembered Louisiana, Karen Matheson astonished with some Gaelic mouth music and American star Joan Osborne made her UK television debut in a series of memorable performances.

Some people have called for the abolition of BBC4 as a thinlipped way of shaving a pound off the licence fee. Programmes like this one make it worth every penny.

You can watch the progamme again - for a few days only - on the new BBC iPlayer.

Tesco victory

As a major shareholder in Tesco, I read the proposals of the Competition Commission to force supermarkets to sell off land they own with interest.

Thankfully, these johnnies know which side of their Tesco bread is buttered, as the plans will merely prevent any smaller retailers from muscling in on Tesco's territory.

At the same time, the plans open up new possibilities for Asda to carve up what's left of small local shopping districts while bunging a bone to our so-called hard-pressed farmers that somewhere there will be an agony aunt who will offer tea and sympathy to any bumpkin who believes they're getting a bum deal.

Tesco is a great British success story, we mustn't let a few hippies derail this vast money-making express

Panic in the beehive

As I boy, I thought it great fun to go round killing bees. Like the bullfight, there was an element of danger involved in squashing one, timid or limp-wristed hands more often than not ended up stung.

Now we learn that the bee population is on the verge of extinction and that this could spoil the countryside as we know it and eventually all life.

My plan now is to travel back in time and prevent each bee killing from happening. Hopefully my mission will be successful and when I return the air will be thick with our buzzing friends.

At this point it may be a good idea to surrender dominion of the earth and beg for bee mercy. Perhaps they will make Debi Jones their queen and we can live side by side in harmony.

I'm going green

Drinkers voting in London's forthcoming mayoral election have much to think about as campaigning begins to get serious.

Ken Livingston wins sympathy for his habit of starting the day with a tumbler of whiskey, but he loses points for being a fat-cat control freak.

Boris Johnson's eccentric humour would be great news for the city, but his pledge to avoid drinking during the campaign* reveals a cynicism that hints at a personality without principals.

Lib Dem Brian Paddick seems an easy going fellow, who when he was a top cop took a sensible approach to policing drug matters and, presumably, will take a liberal approach to drink. However, can we really suppose that he won't revert to type when the going gets tough and start arresting all and sundry?

Green Goddess Sian Berry rolls her own fags and once called for a law that would ensure English beer was drunk on Christmas day rather than Australian wine. She seems the only sensible candidate.

*Many may point to the fact that Moghul has given up drink for Lent. He does so for his own pure reasons that are none of your business.

Williams is right

It's always a good laugh to see a vicar in trouble, even better when it's an archbishop.

But I think that Dr Rowan Williams has it exactly right when he says we need to introduce sharia law to Britain.

For far too long the working classes have been getting away with poaching, thieving and such like with nothing more than slaps on the wrist. A slap on the wrist with a sharp sword will make the point far better.

And, as I was telling my new niece the other day, the lower orders are far too preoccupied with fornication and drink to ever do an honest day's work. Muslim workers typically rise at 5am, are hangover free, and always ready for honest toil.

In the sharia workplace, industrial unrest would become a thing of the past, as all complaints can be pinned on women, jews or Yankees. As long as I allow a few minutes each day for peaceful prayer and flag burning, productivity should soar.

There will be no people going off sick with depression, either. In the sharia workplace, anyone with low self-esteem can be immediately transferred to the suicide bombing dept without claiming a penny in sickness benefit.

Dr Williams should be congratulated on his bold stance. I shall begin taking instruction in Islamism immediately and offer my workforce new terms of conversion or death.

A few alms in the right bowl should take care of things.

Give me some surveillance

According to today's Telegraph, up to 1,000 new phones are being tapped each day, many by local councils.

I find this hard to believe, what on earth are the listening for? Grumblings from members of the Southport Party? The whispered sweet nothings of ill-starred lovers? I was going to ask the bods at Sefton Council who they are listening to, but I doubt they would tell me as they like to keep their cards close to their chests.

I would be happy to discover my phone was being tapped. It would add spice to my otherwise dull existence to know that I was caught up in some sort of Smiley's People type of plot.

If you are reading this, Carol, give a discreet cough next time you listen in, so I know you are there and can make my conversation suitably fruity and mysterious.