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On Amy Winehouse

29th July 2011

When someone with genuine, coruscating talent dies before their time it leaves us all diminished. Such is the case with Amy Winehouse.

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On the murder of Joanna Yeates

20th January 2011

Guess who’s back (me)
Back again (me)
Saul is back (me)
Tell a friend (do)

Hello everyone I know and don’t know.

It’s been a while since the last blog but then you see I’ve been a little busy what with appearing in the Guardian and generally prancing around like a media luvvie-tit.

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On a new era of protest

3rd December 2010

“Two blogs in one day? Blimey Saul, you must be on drugs.”

Whoever said that please take it back. May I remind you we live in litigious times.

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On Big Brother

13th September 2010

On Saturday morning I got up, watched the last ever Big Brother and cried. Quietly maybe so the neighbours didn’t hear, but there were definitely tears.

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On Stephen Fry

28th May 2010

Oh. Allo.

This blog is about Stephen Fry. If you don’t like Stephen Fry you have come to the wrong place. Oh – and you’re a loser.

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On Alan Watkins

11th May 2010

A year ago an old friend of my father’s emailed me. “There’s someone you must meet,” he said. “His name is Alan Watkins and he’s one of your dad’s former Fleet Street cronies.”

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On Eat Me Magazine

29th April 2010

Dear friends, foes, hoes and mo’s,

How are you?


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On writing a blog simply because it’s been ages since the last one

10th February 2010

I’m tired, it’s late and I’m not wearing any pants. But it’s been over a month since my last blog, and that really isn’t good enough now is it. Well is it?
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On swearing

21st December 2009

Fuck me it’s nearly Christmas. As such I thought I should write a festive blog. Because despite being Jewish (well, Jew-ish), I do love a Christmas. Well, mostly.

But then I thought: why would I write about Christmas? It’s FUCKING BORING. So here’s a blog about something equally close to my heart: swearing.
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On appearing in the Guardian

22nd July 2009

Dear all,

How do you kill a vegetarian?
With a steak through the heart

(I made that up)

Last Saturday the Guardian published an essay I’d written about my father. The journey this piece has taken is akin to the epic odyssey of the Alaskan salmon, swimming the rivers and streams of the wild frontier, into the high seas of the Pacific Ocean, then battling upstream through the same rugged waterways before returning to the place of their birth. OK, it’s nothing like that. But still, it’s been quite a slog.

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