It's a tricky task that the Australian comedian Sam Simmons has set himself – showing the lighter side of suicide. He's prepared for failure, of course, that's what brought him to the point of despair in the first place.
Here's an unsettling Venn diagram. One circle encloses the set of foetuses that may, within the current law, be terminated. The other circle encloses the set of premature babies that, within current technology, can successfully be kept alive. And in the intersection – somewhere between week 23 and week 24 of a pregnancy – lie those babies that qualify both as abortable and savable – the subject of Adam Wishart's challenging film 23 Week Babies: the Price of Life. Until relatively recently this intersection didn't exist at all, since doctors weren't able to keep such early births alive. And even now the overlap is very small indeed: only nine out every 100 such births survive to leave hospital and of those another six will be moderately or severely disabled. What doctors have been getting better at, it seems, is stretching out the process for those that eventually die. Where it used to happen in a matter of days, they can now be in intensive care for weeks before the end finally comes.
Weird World of Sport: 'Listen, we need to come to an agreement about what might be occurring in your big game...'
Sporting a bow tie and a broad grin, Jonny Sweet, genius of socially awkward comedy and winner of last year's Edinburgh Comedy Award for Best Newcomer, has found another poor unfortunate to bring to life. Imagine a Hugh Grant type with "street Tourette's" ("let's do this shit!") and you'll have some idea of the persona he's created.
Emma Townshend has the perfect plan to catch the eye of passers-by – and nothing will stop them in their tracks quite like an array of plants from foreign climes
Cabbage gets overlooked a bit at the best of times. I know that we have a reputation for being a nation of meat and two vegetables, but the cabbage family deserves much more prominence on restaurant menus apart from just being boiled and served with a Sunday roast. We grow many varieties of cabbage in the UK, from white cabbage to glossy dark green Italian cavolo nero.
One bleak morning in the dead heart of a winter that was beginning to feel interminable, an invitation intriguingly entitled "Pig Weekend" landed in my inbox. It had been sent from the Auberge de Chassignolles, an eight-room country inn in the Auvergne, and it proposed a three-day workshop: "The weekend will begin with the butchery of a whole pig and conclude with the taking home of a range of charcuterie products that participants have made themselves. Potted meats –brawn, terrine and rillettes – will be jarred and can be taken immediately. Saucissons will be prepared for curing, labelled and hung to dry here in Chassignolles. These will be forwarded by post two to three months later."
As our hunt gathers pace, more evidence emerges of the predicament facing Britain's native species