In journalism, when we want to get a story over the jumps, we refer to it as a universal experience, but it almost never is. There is one universal experience, that's death. That is something we are all going to experience at some distance in the lives of loved ones, strangers and friends, people around us and certainly our own.

Imagine the talented love-child of Andr Previn and Lucille Ball.

Despite the reams of paperwork, obstacles worthy of a horse show, and a wait that can rival an elephant's gestation, adoption feels no different on the inside.

Almost every continent in the world, including our own, has refugees. But how often when we hear the word do we pause to remind ourselves what being a refugee means?

Murder is easy. Comedy is hard.

Believe me, those great death bed speeches are written ahead of time.

Charlie Hebdo were the licensed anarchist clowns of the society.