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London Tonight Tonight

Good afternoon.
Professor Stephen Hawking thinks that what really distinguishes us from other animals is our ability to talk. Others, particularly of a religious persuasion, would argue it is choice - or "free-will". I think it's clothes. But, tonight, we focus on a different paradigm of distinction - the ability to talk AND make a choice - marvellous example of dialectical analysis - thesis, antithesis, synthesis!
We, with our good friends at YouGov, have asked Lononers to express their views on Bozza, up to now; and who, come the day, should inherit his blonde mantle should it be decided by the electorate that it should slip from his tousled pate.
Oddly, they, which is actually you, think he's doing well on two things I wouldn't have given him a marshmellow's chance in a Guy Fawkes bonfire of; but, hey, that's the joy of asking AND listening. And one of the things in which you think he is as much use as a seventh stump at a cricket match was something I thought he was thriving at. I love a good mix of free-expression and being put in my place. As for the Derby which will be the great Mayoral stakes, come May 2012, there's one person who could say "You're Fired!" to Bozza with all the authority of a majority of the London electorate. And our poll suggests that anyone who knows the line that comes after "The worker's flag is deepest red" might as well apply to be a replacement for Ronaldo. Harris will reveal all and we'll ask for a little more from you on why that is how you feel or, at least, how the sample sephologists say can speak on your behalf feel.
The Tamils have moved on, which is good news for those passing through or around Parliament Square but bad news for the Indian High Commission which is, this very afternoon, boosting the business of several glaziers to a significant degree.
Still on an international theme, we hear more about Marnie Pearce who was convicted of adultery in the United Arab Emirates, best known to most of us as the home of Dubai or, for those of you who were at school when most of the Atlas was pink, as one of those countries with very straight-line borders. That's because they were designed in a small room in the Foreign Office by a man with a pencil, a ruler and no grasp at all of the cultural, historic or religious aspirations of those whose oil wealth was all that mattered in those days. Marnie is now free but is staying because her kids aren't. It is an amazing story, safe in the hands of Ronke.
Alfie Liverpool was shot dead two years ago but his killers have not been released because they have never been caught, let alone convicted, sentenced and sent down. It is unbearable for his mum who tells Lewis she knows someone knows. What she doesn't know is why they are staying schtum, a year on.
In committing ourselves to give "the oxygen of publicity" to her campaign, I am reminded we have a special guest tonight who has made many records and sold millions of them. Alas, 'Oxygen' is the only one I could recall until I met him. It was a couple of days ago but tonight we are unleashing the phenomenon that is Jean Michel Jarre upon you. He is handsome, articulate and genuinely interesting. Je ponse. J'espere.
Finally, Johnny Vaughan and Lisa Snowdon have booked their places at the Emirates Stadium come June. Nothing, absolutely nothing at all, to do with the previous Emirates story. Nor, absolutely, is Johnny seeking to replace Cesc Fabregas. Lisa, on the other hand, may fancy her chances at putting that lovely lass selling programmes by the south stand out of work but I don't know for sure. Lisa is very tall and could certainly have a fine view of potential customers. Anyway, they explain to Lucy why they are going to be at the still relatively new home of the Gunners as they unveil a brand new home for one of their most fun things. I think I'll park it there.
Suffice to say it is too wet to let Robin out though I said at The Meeting that I thought it would be reasonable punishment for his turning the glory of the weekend into this lot. KD has cake and is speaking to him as I write. Is this bribery or is it her lovely character prevailing in forgiveness?
The papers are damp and squashy at the edges but I've no doubt your e-mails will be crisp and to the point.
I am poised to distract KD and seize that final morsel of cake.
Caked-up or castigated, I'll see you at six, in glorious company.
Alastair and Katie