Peter Rhodes on the mature Frank Skinner, leagues of confusion and how to save lives by not becoming a doctor

I'VE no idea what some folk have against the word "against" but it seems to be passing out of our language. The trend began in the United States where defendants routinely "appeal the verdict" or "protest the legislation." Over here, I found a newspaper report about a controversial forestry plan where local people "protested the felling."

IT gets worse. A radio report on the BBC told us about activists "demonstrating land seizures" when they were actually demonstrating against land seizures. Leaving out one little word is not only lazy but can be deeply misleading. I am very much against it. Or in modern usage, I am very much it.

"THERE are many more people alive today because I didn't become a doctor." Writer and actor Meera Syal on her decision to study drama at university rather than medicine as her parents wanted.

DIDN'T Frank Skinner look old and distinguished chairing Have I Got News for You (BBC1)? I first interviewed him nearly 30 years ago when he was offering lessons at Halesowen College in stand-up routines for aspiring comedians. He was bright, funny and different, and delighted, after a career of pitiful fees on the pub comedy circuit, to be commanding £100 for a half-hour act at Edinburgh Fringe. I doubt if he dreamed then that one day he'd be chairing the Beeb's cleverest panel game as a sort of elder statesman of British comedy. Skinner survived alcoholism, made and lost a fortune, built it up again and has a special place in the nation's affections. I still remember his laconic views from 1989 on taking Black Country humour to London clubs and realising he had to change his style: "They have a lot of designer jokes down there. I had to drop the black-pudding and whippet stuff pretty quickly. They were all into Citroens. I'm more of a Vauxhall Viva man.'' The Viva came and went. Skinner goes on.

IRELAND voted for abortion because Ireland no longer does what the Catholic Church tells it to do. That change is partly due to scandals involving dodgy priests and sadistic nuns but also to a rare comic creation who, on a weekly basis, mercilessly mocked the institution. When the historians write about the 2018 abortion referendum, I hope they give full credit to Father Ted.

THE interminable credits for the time-travel romp Outlander (Sony Pictures TV) reveal that the production team includes a "dimmer board operator." If they paid better wages they might get a brighter one.

MEANWHILE, Outlander has taken us from 1746 Culloden to 1950s Boston, back to 18th century Edinburgh and now (at my rate of box-set viewing) to the tropical islands of the West Indies. In the time-travelling process, some of the maths seems to have warped into four-dimensional cobblers. "We're only 250 leagues from Jamaica now," explains a sea captain brightly, as though Kingston is just over the horizon. At sea, a league is about 3.4 miles which puts Jamaica about 850 slow and weary miles away. It's a sailing ship, cap'n, not the bleedin' Tardis.