New York This is a bad time of year for atheists. So much so that they are showing signs of desperation. In the cesspool that is Uncle Sam’s capital, an unusual Christmas message began appearing last week on the side of buses and trains: ‘No god? No problem!’ Some 270 of these ads have gone
Before I climbed up into the jeep, the man in charge of our small party stepped forward, shook my hand and introduced himself as a ‘professional naturalist’. ‘Bloody hell,’ I said, thoroughly impressed. I’d expected a guide or a park ranger, not a full-blown naturalist. I was the last to board the open-sided jeep and
Deck the halls with anti-wrinkle cream. Fa-la-la-la-laaa-la-la-la-la. ’Tis the season to be racked with insecurity. Fa-la-la-la-laaa… I don’t know why Christmas should remind us of failure and doom. It’s meant to be a celebration of the greatest beginning of all time, the birth of Jesus and the possibility of everlasting life (albeit it after death,
Laikipia A Christmas gift of perfume smelling of chocolate caused my wife Claire to burst into tears. ‘I have never received such a lazy present!’ she wailed. ‘Hang on,’ I reasoned, ‘it’s popular in Japan. That’s what the girl at the shop said.’ Claire growled, ‘Maybe among schoolgirls!’ Claire is wonderful at Christmas. She begins
When I told a story involving Elizabeth Taylor at a charity lunch lately my host capped it with a better one. Princess Margaret and the screen superstar once dined together in New York. Part way through the meal La Taylor thrust forward her hand, on which glittered one of the chunkiest, most famous diamonds in
My father was a big believer in Christmas. That is to say, he liked the idea of it. My sister and I were the products of his second marriage and he would usually invite the children of his first marriage to our house for lunch. It could be quite tense, with undercurrents of rivalry and
It’s time for the traditional, much-coveted Spectator Sports Awards, and this year your judges have been busier than Mitchell Johnson’s tattooist as we look back over a memorable 12 months. It’s time for the traditional, much-coveted Spectator Sports Awards, and this year your judges have been busier than Mitchell Johnson’s tattooist as we look back
From Craig Brown Q. As I get older I find myself more and more afflicted by dindinitis, which is probably best defined as a morbid dread of dinner parties. Within ten minutes of sitting down, I find that I am tongue-tied and so too is everyone else. Short of ‘You must give me the recipe’
