And they say that TV doesn't harm kids!

It was the nature of children's TV when I was a chavi that a good deal of the schedule was taken up with American imports and although most of this stuff was fairly recent some of it was actually pre-war. So it was that not only were our little personalities moulded by the influence of Roy Rogers and Rin Tin Tin but also by Our Gang and my favourite, Johnny Wiesmuller as Tarzan. We tended to be not all that sophisticated when it came to production values so tame lions ambling around a studio set, clumsily spliced with archive footage of Africa, was quite acceptable. Tarzan was my favourite by far and I suppose that it was my childhood fantasies that would lead to a lifelong interest in tribal peoples, wildlife and the cult of physical training. Eventually I had to face the facts that I am by far the worst swimmer in the family, would not last two secs in a croc infested river, and that no matter how many press-ups I perform in the morning it is now increasingly unlikely that I will ever swing through the tree tops with her indoors clinging to my rippling torso. But for all my interest in the Tarzan character, I had never read the original 1914 book by Edgar Rice Burroughs until I got hold of a copy a couple of weeks ago. I was prepared to be disappointed with Tarzan Of The Apes but found that for all the authors failings, including a total lack of any understanding of Africa, Africans, the anthropoid apes, human nature and women, combined with the racism of his time, I actually just could not put it down. Say what you like about Edgar Rice Burroughs, he sure could spin a ripping yarn.

Profumo was small beer compared to this.

During the Profumo Scandal of 1963 never a day went by without new revelations about the privileged elite and their never ending fascination with the seamy side of life. The News Of The World, a popular Sunday paper now discontinued, paid Christine Keeler a whopping 25 grand for the full shag and tell. In the end it was just too much and Harold Macmilan, a man who had more integrity in one digit than Cameron and his Cotswold coke heads will ever be able to muster between them, was eventually hounded from office. I honestly think that the Murdoch Scandal will make Profumo look like a minor office affair before it's finished. At the moment there just seems no end to it and apparently no hurt that the Dirty Digger would not cause in order to increase the circulation of his fetid organ. Mind you, it might be as well for people like me to take time out from our collective jumping up and clicking together of heels and read the thoughtful piece from Peter Wilby in today's Guardian.

At times like this.

With the News International drama gathering such pace that my head was spinning, I thought that I would get away from it all yesterday and pay a visit to the Museum of London. It was the exhibition of street photography that I really wanted to see but after the completion of a major refurb last year the museum itself is quite outstanding. Apart from the kind of exhibits that you might expect, the London from Stone Age to Steam Age malarkey so loved by curators, there's a refreshing emphasis on London's political movements and popular culture. Great stuff. As for the street photography - it was just wonderful.

Not until I returned home did I discover that Murdoch had decided to cut his losses and pull the plug on the News Of The World and that Cameron had given the nod for Coulson to have his collar felt. At times like this you just don't know who to turn to. Expect the Queen to come under the influence of a half-mad cleric, the emergence of weird castration cults and for everything to be swept away as the people of the abyss pour onto the streets.

Citizen Wapping and the Cotswold Mafia

Bit by bit the truth about the depths that Murdoch's lackeys descended to in the phone hacking scandal is being revealed. The story makes the Citizen Kane plot seem quite pedestrian and has a list of characters that includes child murderers, an all powerful media czar, inept (to give them the benefit of the doubt) police, a corrupt little circle of chums in the Cotswolds led by the Prime Minister and some of the most unpleasant private dicks this side of a Hank Janson story. Big Society anyone?

Cops attack family on Reading Station.

We are used to police violence, and Thames Valley have a reputation that almost rivals the Met, but even by their standards what happened to the Meyers family on Reading Station is a grim reminder of what to expect from a force that is out of control.

Hard lessons and home truths for Haye.

David Haye's defeat at the hands of Wladimir Klitscho last night confirmed a number of boxing home truths. "A good big'un will always beat a good little'un", is one that springs to mind as does the fact that fights can be won by just working behind a really solid, hurtful jab. But boxing pundits will surely also pick up on the difference between Haye and Klitscho's handlers. The Ukrainian champion had Emanual Steward in his corner and Steward comes from that tradition of hugely knowledgeable trainers that includes such hallowed names as Charlie Goldman, Whitey Bimstein, Eddie Futch and Angelo Dundee. Haye on the other hand seems to prefer being surrounded by the modern world of personal trainers, nutritionists and university graduates. It's the difference between business school and the school of hard knocks. In some fields of endeavour, and boxing is one of them, old ways are best ways.

It's that man again!

There is no doubting the fact that, no matter how generous a view you may have of immigration,the expansion of the EU and the large number of East Europeans arriving here has resulted in some problems. The pressure on schools, housing and the NHS is real enough. But people move to other areas or countries to make a better life for themselves. Always have and always will. Frequently the incomers are resented by those already established and history shows how tension can so easily turn to tragedy especially in economic hard times. Against this background Ian Duncan Smith (Is he malevolent or just stupid? I can never make my mind up.) has made an intervention of such irresponsibility that it beggars belief. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "IDS - you couldn't fucking make him up".