I've been suffering from the Pepys Paradox again lately - so much interesting stuff has been going on that I've had no time to write about it. I'm now in Bangor for the weekend, so I'm going to work on a few entries.

But first I need to finish off some work. I'm in Scotland the week after next and I need to work up a frontlog, if you see what I mean. Before I do, I really must report on a couple of stories in today's Guardian.

First up: as you may be aware, the Church of England has actually done something useful. That would be news in itself, but the reaction has been far funnier. The CofE has flogged its stake in Caterpillar, Inc. because it doesn't like bankrolling the people who make the bulldozers than knock down Palestinian homes. So far, so good. But gormless Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has been moaning about this in the Jewish Chronicle, claiming that being deprived of shelter and security and/or being crushed under the tracks of earth moving machinery is actually good for small Palestinian children (or something like that - who really listens in detail to religious leaders? It's all 'God this, God that' - no bloody wonder we all switch off.)

The funniest bit of Doc Sacks' wrath was directed against the Guardian itself. Not long ago, the paper published a couple of features comparing Israeli treatment of Palestinians to the old South African policy of Apartheid. Apparently:

A delegation from the Board of Deputies of British Jews met [Guardian] editor Alan Rusbridger to express concern that the articles would increase anti-semitic attacks.

I can almost see it: loosely-organised battalions of Guardian readers, crazed on uppers and death metal, all lacing up their bovver boots, putting on their Nazi armbands and rushing out to torch the nearest synagogue. It's a vision from hell and it could come true.

The other top story concerns former nurse Christine Mitchelson, who has been struck off the nursing register after she

put a patient's glass eye in a ward sister's drink [..and..] painted a smiley face on another patient's fist-sized hernia...

Given my recent experiences with the NHS - shortly to be described - I have to admit that she doesn't sound as if she's cut out to be a ministering angel. But forget that. Let's get out the Comedy Register and, by golly, strike her name on it in big, red letters. It's not often we meet genius anymore.