The Diana syndrome strikes again.

IT TAKES guts to stand toe-to-toe against lines of grim-faced Ukrainian riot cops. A reader writes: "The people of Kiev are not chicken."

VOTE for independence and you'll starve in the streets. No matter how it is put, no matter how truthful and reasonable it is, this week's hint by Asda and Morrisons that food might cost more in an independent Scotland will be seen as a threat. And when the independence vote is lost next September, as it probably will be, some of the losers will cry foul and allege that the Scots were bullied and deceived by such claims, and that it was not a fair vote. What happens then? By this time next year Kiev could come to Glasgow.

CHRISTMAS puzzle. I have watched the Baileys Christmas TV advert, the one set to the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, looking for some deep yuletide message of peace and goodwill. All I can find is: Drink Baileys, have a dance, get into a fight, kick a bad guy in the mouth. Am I missing something?

IT TAKES a gale like last week's to remind us that no matter how efficient the glass, no matter how solid the frames and no matter how impressive the double-glazing salesman's endless patter, if they skimp on the frame sealant, you may as well leave your windows wide open. All together, to the traditional tune: All around my house I shall spread the green mastic.

WETSHIRTWATCH: An occasional series in which people claim to remember seeing Mr Darcy (Colin Firth) emerging from the lake in the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. You would think Joanna Trollope, having just published an updated version of Sense and Sensibility, would know better. Taking a swipe at Jane Austen enthusiasts who have never read the books, she says: "Fans love Pride and Prejudice when Colin Firth emerges from the lake in the wet shirt, which at no point features in the book." Actually, Jo, it doesn't feature in the BBC version either. We see Darcy diving into the lake. We see him walking in a wet shirt later. But the vision of Darcy rising wet-shirted from the lake is a curious case of collective false memory.

THURSDAY: he was a man of superhuman humanity. Friday: he was a great man. Saturday: he was a fine human being with human flaws. Sunday: did you know, he refused to renounce violence? Monday: maybe he was a sort of terrorist, after all. Tuesday: apparently he was very stern with his own children. Wednesday: fed up with all this Nelson Mandela stuff? And so, little by little, the ludicrous media overkill goes on, people get bored or irritated and dissenting views emerge. It's the Princess Diana syndrome all over again. A few weeks from now the same pundits who yesterday were yelling excitedly into their microphones over the roar of vuvuzelas will be solemnly examining this curious hysteria that overtook us and asking how it could have happened. Nelson Mandela was a fine man, possibly the only man who could have led his country from apartheid to democracy without a civil war. He was a great example. But he was not the Messiah and the more we lionise him, the more we pave the way for the re-examination that will surely follow. As you read this, someone, somewhere is already working on the newspaper feature or television documentary to rubbish the godlike image of Mandela. Just as they did with Diana.

AND still the emails come from readers insisting that winter does not officially (whatever that means) start until December 21. As you wish. But if you are one of those who sincerely believes autumn lasts until four days before Christmas, how do you cope with the carol "In the Bleak Mid-Winter" which, technically, should be "In the Bleak Very Early Bit of Winter"?