Killing is always a serious matter. All too often, amid the glitzy gadgetry of the spy thriller, all the fast cars and sexual adventures, we lose sight of the essential seriousness of what is at stake.

On his latest album, rapper Dubbledge uses fragments of the cartoon series The Boondocks - which satirises African-American cultural and lifestyle pretentions - as skits linking his own, more serious tracks: the Flavor Flav to his Chuck D, as it were.

During a week in which sport has searched its soul to understand the secret pressures placed on its heroes, Bobby Fischer: Genius and Madman (BBC4, Wednesday) showed how fame can destroy the most brilliant of talents. It's not just that a chess player has more possible moves to make in a single game than there are atoms in the solar system (that's 10 to the power of 45, in case you were wondering), which takes a certain type of mind in the first place. In fact it's the insatiable power of such talent which perhaps makes it more vulnerable. But Fischer was under far greater strain than a mere maths test.

Greatness is notoriously difficult to define, but it's easy to demonstrate.

Birmingham Royal Ballet's latest triple bill goes from symbolic drama to nautical romp, with serene lyricism inbetween. Under the title Autumn Glory, it covers the era when British ballet came of age. It's a terrific programme, danced with care and confidence.

A 12-year-old boy has become one of the youngest people in the country to get a top A* grade in A-level maths.

The life of US chess superstar Bobby Fischer divides quite neatly into three acts: Fame, then Obscurity, then Notoriety.

Bart de Zwart is believed to have become the first person to make a solo crossing from Hawaii's Big Island to Kauai on a paddleboard.

Since he was on home soil, it was only natural that Muammar Gaddafi had the White pieces and the advantage of the first move. But this being Libya – and as if in defiance of punitive sanctions imposed on the country – it was Silver vs Gold played on an ornate board which certainly would not have been acceptable for international conditions. Such is the intensity of the psychological struggle in serious chess games that players have occasionally been known to don dark glasses for fear of hypnotism or other dark arts. In this case, there was only one man (with his portrait hanging on the wall behind him) employing psychological pressure while making a move from his white sofa – and it wasn't Ilyumzhinov.

Playwright Ella Hickson has been quietly making a name for herself, and this, her second play, smartly directed by James Dacre in the smaller of the Trafalgar studios, is a good indicator of her talent.

In his long life Peter Carey achieved success across a variety of fields. First, as an intelligence officer, speaking fluent Serbo-Croat, attached to Force 7 Brigade in the Balkans from 1943-45, liaising with the partisans, harrying the Germans and interfering with their communications right up to D-Day. Second, as probably the most dynamic, authoritative and influential Permanent Secretary from 1974-83. And finally, from 1983-93, as a leading figure in the City and chairman of a raft of public companies.