I did my BBC Radio London newspaper review slot this morning with the new Breakfast Show line-up of Gaby Roslin and Paul Ross. It was good fun as usual. So if you’re interested in hearing us discuss who makes Simon Cowell’s bed, a bloody row over a PlayStation football game, Alan Titchmarsh on climate change, Tiger Woods’ text-hell and a rather embarrassing video of me, then click here. I come in at 1hr46minutes in.

In other news I am currently putting the finishing touches to my biography of publishing sensation Stephenie Meyer and simultaneously working on a major update of my internationally-bestselling Amy Winehouse biography. Perhaps more pertinent news for here is that I am also working on an exciting project with the legendary ‘Israelinurse’, whose wonderful writing will be known to regular visitors of this and other blogs. This one will be a slow-burner production-wise, but I’m already confident the final work will be powerful stuff.

Have a great day.

There has been controversy about the line-up chosen by Gordon Brown to form the panel for the Chilcot inquiry. Some of this has been tinged with antisemitism, such as Richard Ingrams’ disappointment that the panel included ‘two Jewish historians’. (His complaint was no surprise: Ingrams believes that Jewish and indeed gay writers should declare their ethnicity or sexuality if they are writing about Israel or gay rights issues. How does he want this to work? A yellow star or pink triangle next to their byline?)

Anyway, George Galloway has now had his say on Chilcot. On his Comment show last night the whiskered-wonder asked: ‘Why wasn’t I put on the panel?’ Good question, George. I suppose those grovelling salutations to Saddam Hussein worked against you. The way you publicly handed money to Hamas probably didn’t help, you know how sensitive people can get about antisemitic terrorism. I doubt your cat impersonations helped much either. The whole business is complicated enough without them having to install flea powder and litter trays at the Conference Centre. Meow!

Shabbat shalom to all my Jewish readers – and a happy weekend to everyone.

I’ve only just realised that someone has made a really cool video about the BUYcott campaign based on the text of my recent post about it.

It’s great that word about the campaign is spreading and on a personal note I’m honoured to have my writing featured – and in such an opening-titles-of-Star-Wars style. Good stuff.

Around this time last year I first encountered Jonathan Hoffman when he gave an excellent speech on a demonstration outside the Iranian Embassy in London. As he delivered the speech he was passionate, charismatic and inspiring. Jonathan is co-vice-chair of the Zionist Federation but he is so much more than that.

Over the last twelve months I’ve marvelled at his commitment to the cause. I’ve witnessed first-hand his bravery and brilliance on numerous demonstrations, meetings and on a vile day at Press TV. But that’s just the start of the legendary contribution he makes on a daily basis. The list could go on and on (and on and on) but just take a look at this video (4mins, 48seconds in) and read this brilliant speech for a taster.

His courage and commitment cannot be doubted, but unlike some who display enormous commitment to their political cause, he remains a modest and selfless man whose admirable energy is fuelled only by the simplest of motivations: to defend Israel and fight antisemitism. As with any movement this is one not without cliques and elites. But Jonathan is a man of the people, who will recruit and inspire more each year than many others at the top.

Still, I can understand why some resent him. If I thought Israel must be vilified, I would object to his clear-headed corrections. If I thought Jews deserve to be bullied and libelled without rebuttal I would resent him. Likewise, if I was one of the many who talk a good talk about defending Israel but do precious little to actually help, his example would perplex me and would nag away at my conscience. Long may that continue.

And you know what? Maybe on occasion his passion bubbles a little too furiously over the surface. But I’m not even sure about that. Better too much passion than too little, as this is a difficult fight against bitter enemies, not a flower-arranging society. Jonathan is at the frontline of that fight week in week out, that he remains such a warm and charming man is all the more to his credit.

Oy Va Goy doesn’t do knighthoods, but if it did…

If you are on Twitter then please follow this blog @OyVaGoy. You can keep up to date on the latest posts and selected links from elsewhere, as well as receiving random thoughts and occasional dog photographs.

Shabbat shalom to all my Jewish readers and a happy weekend to everyone. You might like to check this link about World Jewish Relief’s emergency appeal to assist those affected by the Haiti disaster.

I am currently reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy and I’m planning to go and watch the big-screen adaptation of it next week. All this post-apocalyptic drama reminds me of the life-changing drama-documentary the BBC made in the 1980s called Threads, which depicted a nuclear attack on Britian through the experiences of ordinary Sheffield folk.

That description might make it sound like Coronation Street with a mushroom cloud. But it was a truly shocking film which terrified and politicised me in all manner of ways. I was 12 when I watched it. Some years later I looked back on it in an article for the men’s magazine Loaded. This is that article:

Great Moments In Fright Nuclear TV Drama – By Chas Newkey-Burden

Nuclear missiles were never feted for their subtlety or charm, but when I sat down as a 12-year-old lad to watch a film about them, I wasn’t expecting the visual and emotional onslaught I received. Threads was a life-changing moment for a generation of youngsters and the peak of a decade of nuclear paranoia.

The 1980s had begun with the government distributing a public information booklet called Protect And Survive. It instructed the great British populace in the fine art of building nuclear bomb shelters from an ingenious combination of books, doors, towels and Lego. All very Blue Peter. It also assured us: “When you hear the all-clear, this means there is no longer an immediate danger from air attack and you may resume normal activities.”

For those of us in any doubt at all about what exactly constituted ‘normal activities’ in the aftermath of a nuclear strike, Threads offered a graphic account. A comprehensive destruction of society, diseased survivors fighting over the right to eat dead, plutonium-rich sheep, casualties having limbs sawn off without anaesthetic in makeshift hospitals. Not forgetting, of course, the stillborn babies, burning cats, formation vomiting and those mutilated characters tilling a barren earth under a nuclear winter sky. This was truly horrific television, even more terrifying than Grange Hill bully Gripper or those uncompromising Don’t Play With Fireworks ads.

As if in sympathy with the radiation stricken cast, I literally threw up with fear while watching Threads. Although my generation was aware of truly catastrophic events, most were well in the past; whereas the events depicted here were in the future, at a date to be arranged – quite possibly next week. Make no mistake about it, as far as we were concerned during the 1980s, it was merely a case of ‘when’ not ‘if’ the bomb dropped. For months afterwards we walked around stiff with fear, every passing plane momentarily inspected before normal breathing rate could be resumed.

I had an ugly row with my family the day after Threads was broadcast. With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps it was reasonable for Dad to want to keep the door on his garage. And I suppose Mum really was too busy cooking the tea to drive up to the builders’ merchants and procure those sandbags. I guess I shouldn’t have been so disappointed that I didn’t finish building that nuclear bomb shelter. It was hardly the end of the world, was it?

You can watch Threads online here. But do you even want to after reading the above? Sicko…