I can't think of any job tougher than being a parent in modern Britain, and I've edited this newspaper, walked the length of Britain, climbed Kilimanjaro and regularly mouth off on live television. Parents are our unsung heroes, but you'd never guess. Week in and week out they get criticised – told they're not as good as previous generations.

As the popular face (sorry, Nick) of the Yes to AV campaign, Eddie Izzard has demonstrated a common touch that Miliband (E) can only dream of, Martin Luther King-like. So let us put scepticism aside for a second to welcome the restatement of Izzard's political ambitions: this week, the comic told Sky News that he still intends to run as a Labour candidate for Parliament, the European Parliament or Mayor of London in 2020, or thereabouts. Winning a Commons seat would, of course, make Izzard the first ever transvestite MP. Or, at least, the first one to admit it.

"Baby, you got a mother complex and I'm gonna make you forget it," the vivacious Myrtle, with a can-do waggle of her lime-green thighs, informs her droopy husband of two days in Lucy Bailey's brilliant, blackly wacky and sometimes tenderly hilarious revival of this Tennessee Williams rarity from 1967. Alas, Myrtle would have about as much luck weaning Norman Bates off his mother as reorient the ailing, secretly TB-ridden and maternally fixated Lot who has inherited the piss-elegant, antique-filled home where mummy and he used to preen preciously as a two-person-band against the rednecks endemic in this district of the Mississippi Delta.

The Malaysian authorities are at the centre of an increasingly heated row after it emerged that 66 Muslim boys identified by teachers as "effeminate" had been dispatched to a special camp to discourage them from becoming gay.

As London’s first pub theatre, the King’s Head has always punched above its weight: I lost count of the major writing talents which emerged there during the Seventies and Eighties, and the transfers to the West End. After its only begetter Dan Crawford died in 2005, the down-home, ramshackle honesty with which he infused it seemed doomed to extinction too.

The new Cock's old cock Tennessee Williams season has comprised two short world premieres: one early, and now one late; A Cavalier for Milady, thought to have been written around 1979, is the only published Williams play remaining hitherto unperformed, a real collector's item, and infinitely worth seeing.

Lowbrow music may not be to sophisticated tastes, but it can be revealing

I'm not entirely sure who Hercules had an affair with, but after a cursory glance at the band as I entered Shoreditch's Village Underground, I'd guess Run-DMC, Grace Jones, M-People, Kraftwerk, Queen and Yazoo. An eclectic combination, you might think, and you'd be right. But inadvertently intruding on their eccentric one-night-stand, I found that I wasn't the only one mesmerised by what I saw.