Ken Dodd

QUENTIN LETTS: Conservative MPs, and I suspect a few Labour ones, look at Sir Keir Starmer and think 'how on earth is this constipated clunker so far ahead in opinion polls?' At PMQs, Sir Keir was weaving his own brand of non-magic. Scintillating was not the right word. His questions were rhetorical, and they sparked off a rigid script. The rhythms of speech? The pre-defined, whiny trios. He was as new as a pub carpet. Sir Lindsay Hoyle was so distraught that he forgot Sir Keir had one more question to answer and mistakenly called Tory MP Simon Hoare instead. Speaker Hoyle corrected the error and allowed Sir Keir to answer his sixth and final question. The chamber, which was in a state of advanced accidie, groan. Following last week's by-election to replace Boris Johnson's ally Nadine Johnson, Downing Street had figured out that the nasal knight would open his questions by lauding the new (Labour) MP for Mid Bedfordshire.

'Allow me to show how you can turn a will into something that is fun or that will save thousands of dollars - or both.' Stephen Gold, a former judge, is honest.' In a recent book, he discusses the benefits of having a will and how to ensure that your final wishes are fulfilled.

Mike Yarwood was a pioneer. The errant pomposity of politicians has now been mistakenly dismantled, revealing the world that they are often both absurd and ridiculous. They may have been a hit on parody by day's reckoning. But they were certainly not on Saturday nights, when Mike enjoyed his golden age of comedy. The delight was that the characters he could choose from were all so eccentric - a wonderful palate to draw from as a comedian. He dismissed the belief that certain people, from monarchs to politicians, could not be impersonated. Everyone was fair game. Mike's greatest strength and imagination was deciding which to parody and which portions of their story to exaggerate.