Last night, Sky News played audio footage of Raoul Moat’s last moments. This included detailed analysis of the sounds by an expert of the three ‘gunshots’ and some idle chit-chat about whether someone was screaming ‘Aaarrgh - my arm’ (Moat) or ‘Get the firearm’ (police officers). No matter what Moat was or what he had done, that was simply a step too far and unacceptable in my opinion. This broadcast was not in the public interest and breached the standards of normal, common decency. ...

They would probably produce Bryan Devendorf of The National. Plays the drums barefooted. Takes the demo tapes and composes the drum sections. Writes intelligently. Drums immaculately. Performs his own, separate soundcheck. All things considered, I’m very glad I’ll be witnessing The National live again at the Brixton Academy on Wednesday 1 December.

A tragic story is unfolding in the North of England with a gunman on the run after killing one person and seriously injuring two more (his ex-girlfriend and a traffic policeman) following his release from prison last Friday. Obviously, the police are doing everything to apprehend Raoul Moat safely without any further loss of life. However, as Moat claims he has ‘lost everything’ and is determined to ‘wage war on the police’, it’s not clear this episode will reach a peaceful conclusion. ...

The British media may have given the impression in recent weeks that we considered the German national tootball team to be a rather workmanlike, efficient, collection of young talent coupled with experienced internationals but lacking in imagination and devoid of much creative talent. Some less respected elements of the British media may have given the impression that England’s recent, comprehensive 4–1 defeat by Germany was somehow a freak result that was purely the result of a refereeing error that denied England an equaliser. ...

[ Working title: Torture on a shoestring ] A couple of weeks ago on a normal, routine Tuesday morning, I did what I do every morning; showered, prepared for work and cleaned my ears out with a cotton wool bud. As I went to leave the bathroom, I swung my arms up and around to put my dressing gown back on for the short trip down the upstairs landing. [ This requirement to be modestly covered up follows an unfortunate incident in April 2009 when my teenage daughter had a sleepover with three friends staying over. Apparently, one poor girl can not even look at a Chipolata sausage ever again. Needless to say, I conducted my own defence and was acquitted. Again. ] ...