You've got to hand it to Hugo Chávez. Basically, he's used a pre-Easter Mass to dare God not to let him die of cancer because he's so important. Chávez, I mean, not God. It'll be interesting to see whether God displays any favouritism in response to Chávez's modest plea - "Don't take me. I have more to do for this country". I have an image of God weighing the pros and cons in pair of celestial scales. Though why he would bother beats me, as he already knows the outcome.
Regular readers will know I'm aware of Twitter - how could I not be? - but that I've never twittered nor followed any twitterer. So I was interested to see Will Self - a man about whom I've been ambivalent - writing on the subject. Turns out he's presented all my views, only with vastly greater eloquence than I could manage. The bastard.
The Guardian today carried an article on the killing of greyhounds in Macao once their racing days are done. I've read a couple of articles over the last ten years reporting that the same thing is done to these dogs in Spain. Though they are, in fact, galgos, which are smaller than greyhounds. Estimates vary from 10 to 50,000 a year and the preferred method is to hang them from trees and leave them. Frankly, there doesn't seem to be much concern about this foul practice.
You learn something every day. If you don't know what shape-ups (or rocker-bottom shoes) are, then click here.
Something else . . . Why was I not surprised to learn today that Damian Hirst got an E in his A level Art exam? One notch up from Fail.
Finally . . . Here's some ruminations on the implications of the relative failure of the recent Spanish bond auction.
Tune in tomorrow for a Headingley Foto Shoot.
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