Rhodes on flicking fingers, frozen moments and a foregone conclusion at the ballot box

You know the moment. The radio switches itself on at some ungodly hour and you hear a disconnected snatch of discussion, hanging in the air with no beginning and no end. A frozen moment.

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I had one early on Sunday. It was a lady on Radio 4 recalling: “I was extremely unsuccessful as a nun.” The mind yelps.

Vladimir Putin has announced he will stand in next year's Russian presidential election. Exciting, isn't it? I wonder who'll win.

If the war in Ukraine had been fought to Princess Diana's rules, it might well have ended a few weeks ago as Ukraine's army, revived, retrained and equipped with the best Western kit for its summer offensive, rolled over the Russian defences and regained its historical borders. It didn't happen, partly because the Russian defences included millions of anti-personnel mines.

Sometimes dubbed “the sentry that never sleeps”, these mines can bring the best-planned attack to a juddering halt. Diana wanted to ban them and campaigned for a worldwide agreement. More than 160 states approved the treaty, but Russia did not. Maybe now we understand why.

If you're planning to grab and keep a slice of your neighbour's territory, mines are far too useful to give up, even to please a princess.

Rishi Sunak told the Covid inquiry that he rarely uses text to communicate with colleagues, and does not have the text messages he sent during the Covid crisis. So it's not just me, then? I possess a mobile phone, not a smartphone but an ancient Samsung which cost a tenner and boasts a little torch. I use it about twice a month and then instantly delete any text. It's a communication device, not a record of my every waking hour. It's my servant, not my master.

Maryam Moshiri who has suddenly become the Beeb's best-known news presenter after flicking her middle finger at the camera, tells us: “It was a silly joke that was meant for a small number of my mates.” Clearly, one isolated finger does not spell the demise of manners or the end of civilisation as we know it. But I can't imagine Angela Rippon doing it, can you?

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