If you could define the least appropriate person to have funded Peter Hain’s bid to become deputy leader of the Labour party, who would you come up with? Peter, remember, was the leftie candidate, known for his stand against apartheid, his mistrust of global capitalism and support for the welfare state. So, how about this: a boss of a multinational pharmaceutical company accused of cheating the NHS out of money through his involvement in a price-fixing cartel, who supported a member of a pro-apartheid party in South Africa? Step forward, Isaac Kaye, former boss of Ivax Pharmaceuticals. He was one of Peter’s generous, secretive donors.

Old Ike may have bunged you some dosh too, or maybe just a mountain bike or some M&S gift vouchers – he’s got a track record of handing out largesse to doctors who are receptive to his firm’s advances, both in South Africa and here. And, indeed, been censured for it. But maybe he gave money to Peter’s campaign because he liked him as a human being and thought him a terrific politician, much as we all do.

As did another donor, a diamond broker (with strong South African and Israeli connections), a former supporter of John Major, one Willie Nagel. Willie got honoured by new Labour six years ago - probably just for selling diamonds, which is a stressful business, I’m sure. He gave £5,000 and lent £25,000.

Hain has admitted to being “confused” about these hidden donations, which have now landed him in trouble. You and me both, matey. I’m a little confused about the front – sorry, “think tank” – through which these donations were filtered. The Progressive Policies Forum – a noble-sounding institution to be sure, but one which does not, meaningfully, exist. To turn Cartesian logic on its head – it doesn’t think, therefore it isn’t. No website, publications or employees.

It was set up in 2006, after provisional campaigning for the deputy leadership had got under way, by a bloke called John Underwood. That’s the same John Underwood who happened to be treasurer to Peter Hain’s deputy leadership campaign. Confusing?

A fairly simply issue confuses me, meanwhile. Why did Hain require £185,000 to persuade members of his party to vote for him? He spent almost double the amount of the winner of the contest. What was the money spent on? Hain has blamed “overwork” for his state of confusion; well, there’s a very straightforward remedy for that at least, Peter. Norman Wisdom as the Portuguese chief of police?

So, get yourself ready for Maddie – The Movie (PG, until you fancy nipping out for something to eat). Kate and Gerry McCann’s press spokesman, Clarence Mitchell, has confirmed that the couple met with representatives from the US entertainment company IMG before Christmas and that while nothing was agreed, the meeting had been “positive”. A day later Gerry McCann hastily backtracked and said no, no, they weren’t planning a movie. Who to believe? And which British actors will Hollywood cast as the parents if there is a film? Sacha Baron Cohen and Catherine Tate? Am I bovvered? Look at my face – is it bovvered? And maybe Matt Lucas as the shady-looking Robert Murat? Norman Wisdom as the Portuguese chief of police?

I’m sorry, this is all in appalling taste. But then, the whole thing is in grotesque, appalling taste. And it has long since passed the realm which one might call surreal. Last week I mentioned that it might be a good thing if we heard any more about the McCanns only if the poor little girl was found, but no chance; we’re going to be hearing even more by the look of things.

Everything can be appropriated for entertainment, and Madeleine has somehow become the subject of an entire industry. I hope it’s because her mum and dad think it will improve the chances of finding her, as they continually insist. I hope so, at least.

The sad death of Sir Edmund Hillary has left us with a profound dearth of heroes whom we might admire and emulate, Peter Hain aside of course. Our notion of what constitutes courage has changed: climbing to the top of a very big mountain is these days seen as ever so slightly embarrassing, something with the musty whiff of the empire about it. Today, when we honour people with statues in prominent places they tend to be African freedom fighters or that nice lady Alison Lapper who was commemorated because she didn’t have any limbs. It would be silly to hack off one’s own limbs in an attempt to emulate Ms Lapper and, for obvious reasons, we cannot easily emulate Nelson Mandela.

But then if you go exploring, someone is bound to berate you about your carbon footprint, or your exploitation of huskies, native guides, etc. It has become difficult to know quite what to do in order to prove oneself. Sir Edmund – God bless the man – came from a simpler, earlier age. His subsequent mission to the Antarctic with Vivien Fuchs, incidentally, provided The Times with its most inadvertently entertaining headline ever, for which we might also remember him: “Hillary Fuchs off to the Pole”.

Let some guys slip through the net, Cheryl

A young lady called Cheryl Tunney, aged 18, has revealed to the BBC that she has slept with more than 50 men in the past two years, all of them procured over the internet. I don’t wish to seem unkind, but looking at the photograph of Ms Tunney one is again reminded of the veracity of that old saying “any port in a storm”. But still. At least one of the men in question acquired her affections by posting up the following beguiling, coquettish message: “Do you want to meet for a shag?” The answer, apparently, was yeah, all right. With Chezza it usually is.

I suppose 50 men in two years is quite an achievement, although there’s plenty of room for improvement. She has a fair distance to go before she catches up with the men, for example. A male friend of mine who worked for the holiday company Club 18-30 once slept with up to 21 different women in 21 days, including a lady who had the words “Satan Lives” tattooed above her groin. That was 25 years ago, before Cheryl was even a twinkle in her proud daddy’s eye.



Spare a thought for the American television sports presenter Kelly Tilghman, now idling her time away on gardening leave. During a conversation with the golfer Nick Faldo she jokingly commented that the only way Tiger Woods could be prevented from winning his next tournament would be if all the other golfers decided to “lynch him”.

Cue the sort of civil rights hysteria which I’m sure you can imagine, led by that wicked old agent of perpetual provocation, the Rev Al Sharpton. If she’d said “stab” or “shoot” him it would have been fine, of course. But she said “lynch” - and so is herself suspended. It was for such battles that Martin Luther King and Malcolm X gave their lives . . .

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