I fought Godwin's law and the law won

Historically, when people get to imposing their own definitions of religiosity on others, you’re looking at persecution. You’ve got three Jewish grandparents, you’re a Jew. Go directly to the Gas, do not pass Go, do not collect £200.

Dawkins, in his sour, power-crazed, demagogic old age is bringing more than a whiff of Nuremberg to his definitions.

Giles Coren goes ballistic, somewhere behind Murdoch's Great Paywall. Via Mick Hartley, who's been keeping an eye on young Giles for a while now. Here's Gilesey Boy on ordering food in McDonald's:

You know what I mean? We want a spotty teenage loser in a skid-mark-coloured shirt that drains all the colour from his pasty face. We want a woman, squeezing between the chip-fryer and the milkshake machine, in a blouse you could make into outfits for a whole Brownie pack. We want a man whose polyester shirt sparks in the dark and out of which the smell of BO can never quite be washed. We want someone, in short, who is even lower down the food chain than we are. Someone in whose opinion we are not even slightly interested.

It's a wee bit early to get into succession planning for the post of Britain's Pillock Laureate, what with James Delingpole so reliably delivering the nation's weekly drivel quota, but I reckon the boy Coren's one to watch.