A sacred bull in a Hindu temple in Wales has got TB, so the rules of Welsh Assembly say it should be killed. But the people at the temple aren't very happy about this, and are threatening non-violence to any official vets who come round with murderous intent. The temple is in a complex called 'the community of the Many Names of God', it says on page 16. Speaking from a position of total ignorance of Hinduism, but with a fair acquaintance with the habits of the Church of England, I feel this is a somewhat lazy piece of naming. If even Anglicans can decide which church is going to be St Mary's, and which St Mungo, then the least the Hindus could do is choose one of the many names of God, and go with that one. If you ever say, 'Oh, I wish I had the decisiveness of the Church of England,' then it's time to have a good hard look at yourself.
It's not often you read a news story, and get the feeling a fight has broken out between the paragraphs. The article 'Flight of bats may help develop robot planes' on page 17 starts with the assertion: 'Bats use very different wing motions in flight than birds.' Then the third paragraph says, 'The differences in the nature if a bat or bird wing are obvious'. Paragraph three clearly feels paragraph one is in the business of saying things that are obvious. I can't imagine paragraph one took that lying down. There's some things you just don't say.
Neil MacGregor is director of the British Museum and profiled on page 21. The profile reckons he's done a pretty good job. Though some troubles are intractable, he's had many good ideas: 'Even he can't finesse away the problem of the Parthenon marbles…a rolling re-display is transforming galleries.' Sometimes the solution is staring straight at you: rolling is what marbles do best. An unrolled marble is simply cruelty.
HBO is an American TV network, and its boss has just had to stand down after being arrested at 3am in Las Vegas. He has been accused of assaulting his girlfriend. Police alleged on page 32 'that they had seen him in a physical tussle with his girlfriend.' In such a litigious place as America, it is essential for public servants to express themselves with clarity when justifying their actions. But when referring to a tussle that required police attention, is it ever necessary to specify that it was 'physical'? Having a good mental tussle from time to time is the basis of many a healthy relationship, but surely no one would call in the rozzers simply because a chess game had gone on for a bit. 'One character, known to us as "the knight", was travelling in a northerly direction, then northerly again, then westerly.'
Corrections and clarifications on page 40 has picked out a choice error from a previous issue. Apparently, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had been described as 'Portsmouth's most famous son'. There are two reasons why this might not be the case, it turns out. Dickens was born in Portsmouth, so he is outranked. Also, he didn't come from Portsmouth.
Andrew Marr is trying out an ebook – a machine 'on which you can download any novel you fancy' – on page 4 of G2. He likes books, particularly because they lack the annoying properties of modern technology: they 'don't plug in, beep or suddenly produce pop-ups.' I have news for Andrew Marr. My nephew has several books that suddenly produce pop-ups, and much improved they are for it. Books is where pop-ups started.
And, from our archive:
Guardian, 25th January
MPs are criticised on page 4 for lacking a good plan to tackle childhood obesity. Andrew Lansley, who does health for the Tories, accuses the government of 'thrashing about' on the issue. Coincidentally, 'thrashing about' is one the recommended weight-loss exercises for the under-11 age group.
A junior education minister has told reporters on page 5 that criminal gangs are infiltrating schools. 'We want to nip [it] in the bud now,' he explains, 'Before it becomes…a genuine worry for parents.' If you want parents not to worry about something, best not to explain your worries to reporters. Reporters tend not to keep a secret.
Scientists have found the skeleton of the marsupial lion, pictured on page 10. It has been described as the 'find of the century'. We should remember, at this early point of the century, that boast is just over 14 times less impressive than the same claim made just over 7 years ago.
The Diary on page 31 refers to David Curry as the MP for Rippon. Presumably, in addition to his role representing the good people of Ripon, we also speaks on behalf of former newsreader and celebrity leg-owner Angela Rippon. At least he's declaring the interest.
A profile of Bristol City striker Enoch Showumni on page 5 of Sport includes a box featuring other famous Enochs, such as Enoch Powell, and the one off the Bible. Plans for a box on other famous Showumnis seem to have come to nought.
Today's pets poster is of cats, so any cat-owners could show the poster to their cat for them to find old friends. Likewise with the pet fish poster earlier in the week, which could be shown to your cat as a kind of illustrated menu.
'You can truly claim to have had a bad day,' we learn on page 2 of G2, 'When part of it has been spent with your head inside the mouth of a great white shark.' Unless, perhaps, you are another great white shark, in which case such as action might be the height of naughty fun. But even if you're a person, you can claim to have had a pretty lucky day. If you've had your head in a shark's mouth and you reach the end of the day in a shape to be 'claiming' anything, you've had a pretty lucky day.
Researchers from the Zoological Society of London working in Panama have studied nests of the local paper wasp, Polistes Canadensis, it says on page 3. This will be the type of wasp that works for the local paper.
Kyle Eastwood is a jazz musician, the eldest son of Clint Eastwood, and profiled on page 21. He is asked if he gets tired of people asking about his father, and he says, 'No not really.' This is lucky, as four of the seven questions preceding that one allude to his Dad, as do seven of the ten that follow.
There is a show mentioned on page 34's TV listings called 'Where's My Pension Gone?' Judging by the photo, your pension has been stolen by business journalist Jeff Randall who is now a mafia boss. Or if not by him, perhaps one of his goons (discreetly out of shot).