idleness can be a form of extreme, long-distance bad luck

Queen of spleen: The acid tongue of Julie Burchill - Independent Online Edition > Media

Much has been made of David Beckham's alleged dimness over the years - we don't expect our intellectuals to be great footballers, but for some reason we expect our great footballers to be intellectuals. But when it comes to having one's life "sorted", as the young folk say, he is in a class of his own

[The Beckhams] are a pair of beautiful social barometers, lithe litmus tests who highlight the sad failings and desires of their critics. Between them, they have inadvertently managed to reveal more about the plagues of sexism, snobbishness and plain old-fashioned envy that disfigure Blair's Britain than Germaine Greer, Dennis Skinner and Snow White's wicked stepmother put together. I believe that those who hate the Beckhams do so because they so very obviously made it all by themselves. We pay lip-service to meritocracy, but its rare reality disturbs us, makes us aware of our own idleness or bad luck - and of course, idleness can be a form of extreme, long-distance bad luck.

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RT @princesswales22: Come and sign the petition against corporate chains coming to Primrose Hill, glass of mulled wine too!

Gangs of new Britain By Olga Craig, Sunday Telegraph Last Updated: 1:07am GMT 11/02/2007 No one knows for certain which newspapers Terry Adams took. Indeed none of us knows for sure that he took any at all. What we do know, however, is that what Mr Adams did take was a very great deal of pride and satisfaction in the fact that, until last week, his name and photograph were rarely, if ever, to be found in their pages. Not that he isn't a vain man, one for whom reputation, respect and standing matter little. Quite the contrary. Adams is very proud of his notoriety among his local, north London community: what he has spent a lifetime avoiding is public recognition. No longer. This morning, Adams, the godfather behind a £200 million business built on murder, drugs and money-laundering, whose catch-phrase is "give him a slap", will wake up in Belmarsh, south London's high security prison, after admitting a five-year conspiracy to hide £1 million. While he was handed a 14-y...

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