Idiot British Politician Of The Year
Some strong competition this year, what with Lembit Opik's recent headline-grabbing celebrity-girlfriend swap, Tony Blair's pronouncement on Parkinson that God would judge him on Iraq, and our next prime minister David Cameron riding a bike with a ministerial car right behind while thinking about his next podcast or photo-opportunity, but deputy PM John Prescott takes the award for being a walking cliche: shagging his secretary! I actually don't think he should have been sacked for it, but respect is not due. His wife may not understand him, but the rest of us do, all too well. An embarrassment to middle-aged men everywhere. And I actually liked him for smacking that farmer.


Wonder Drug Of The Year
Again, some strong competition, with Tamiflu declared "useless" in dealing with avian flu but stockpiled by governments anyway when some swans died (bearing in mind that even if it is never administered to the public, the drugs companies have already sold it) and Herceptin approved by the National Institute for Clinical Excellence after much hoo-hah for NHS funding even though a single course costs twenty two thousand pounds and may only help one in five of the 5,000 women a year who suffer from the particular form of breast cancer it treats, with side effects on the heart and lungs thrown in. (My beef with this drug is not about whether or not it offers hope, but that it is routinely described as a "wonder drug" in the media, when it patently isn't, and that's not hope, that's hype. Meanwhile, the pharmaceutical company gets millions from an already-strapped NHS. Hmmmm.) I have high hopes for the HPV vaccine for 2007, which the government are threatening to inject into all schoolgirls to protect them from a virus that's linked with cervical cancer: that'll be a "cancer vaccine" then - well done, The Media, once again - but 2006's award, for sheer ubiquity, goes to statins, the blood-thinning drugs which are now available, heavily-promoted, over the counter like sweets. The drug company dream! Get your statins here! Lower your cholesterol using a sweetie rather than than change your diet! Yet another pill for your bathroom cabinet!


Heartbreak Of The Year
Those that know me will know that my heart breaks regularly over the death or despair of animals and birds. Equally, it mends by the mere sight of a goldfinch at my feeders or a fly rescued from drowning in a toilet (don't ask), so you have to go with it. This year, I think the saddest sight I saw, animal-and-bird-wise, was that poor northern bottlenose whale, who swam 40 miles up the Thames to die of what turned out to be arthritis. I suppose you had to hand it to those people who tried to save it, but interference is another word for it; thinking how stressed the poor creature must have been in its final hours still gives me a pain right there.


New Experience Of The Year
For me? Attending Wimbledon and seeing what all the fuss was about. Also, seeing what a lot of fuss is actually made.


Televised International Football Tournament Of The Year
The World Cup, obviously (see: blog entries passim). Loved every minute of it, the commentator bollocks, the downfall of Zidane, even the pitches half-obscured by shadow and England's woeful, then hopeful, then woeful again performance. It's what we came for.


TV Station Of The Year
Do you need to ask? HBO, and I don't even have it on my telly. Respect is also due to BBC4.


Saddest Celebrity Death Of The Year
I'm not going to say Top Of The Pops, even though it was killed off before its time was up. It's hard to place one celebrity death higher than another - I was sad to see Syd Barrett and Arthur Lee go, and Chris Penn, who was way too young at 40, and Allen Carr, who died so that countless others may pack in the fags. Steve Irwin, for all his interference with animals, did love them, and Tony Banks MP had one or two principles. I'm glad to have met Robert Altman, now that he's gone. But Linda Smith was the worst news of all, as I had actually met, shared a joke and worked with her - on September 11, 2001, most memorably - and she had a lot more to give. At least she was remembered fondly and in depth in the papers.


Technological Advance Of The Year
Being a podcast. Not through 6 Music, but thanks to Ebury, my publishers, who turned January's authors comedy evening into a series of downloadable videos, including my little turn about serial killers, which I only did because the slide projector wasn't working. Download it here, should you wish.

That'll do. I'm sick of reviews of the year. Bring on the next one. I've just seen a woodpecker on my peanut feeder, first time in the new garden - my heart is full.