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2022i2, Sunday: details.
The best and worst things in life. They trip you up, if missed. They redeem your soul, if marked.
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The best and worst things in life. They trip you up, if missed. They redeem your soul, if marked.
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Let me tell you a story. I think it’s about corruption. But do decide for yourself.
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Words change the world. Sometimes they do so as a result of malice aforethought. Maybe, just maybe, there's a word for that...
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Three days ago, someone murdered David Amess. We were political poles apart; and yet he strove to be my representative. We owe it to him to remember these are not mutually exclusive.
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Two decades on from a terrible day, I can't help remembering - alongside the sick horror - a feeling of professional pride. Does that make me a monster? I don't think so.
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Anyone can lie with statistics. But buried in the numbers backing up the BS, the truth that rebuts it can often be found. And fashioning that into a compelling story can be shockingly effective.
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A brace of Court of Appeal cases highlight both some fascinating litigation points - and why charitable trustees need to trust themselves, and their friends, a little less.
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A judge makes the point I've been dying for someone to make about bundle page numbering: make the numbers match. Or suffer the (cost) consequences.
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Our minds play tricks on us. All the time. One trick is particularly pernicious - but recognising it can change the world.
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Not my stuff, obviously. But the piece I'm linking to - entitled "I just learned I only have months to live. This is what I want to say" - is breathtaking. Do yourself a favour. Please.
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I spent my Saturday lost in music. Oh sweet Jesus. It was... wonderful.
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Apologies for the long gap. I may be pedantic, but some words have old meanings that carry genuine value - the more so because of the state we're in.