The 20-year renaissance of the British Olympic team is actually a master class in collective regeneration, as applicable to businesses and even countries as it is to regenerating an Olympic team. Here's seven reasons why Team GB has been so spectacularly successful.
Being a Labour member has been arduous at times, now more than ever. I voted for Ed Milliband, with the belief of substance over style. Last year I voted for Burnham, agreeing with him on the NHS, social care and his work over Hillsborough (the worst act of class discrimination this country has ever seen). Corbyn didn't appeal to me then and he doesn't appeal now.
It is not just my sexuality that excludes me from the spectrum of visible colours, but my gender too. I have spent a lifetime trying to understand and explain my gender to myself and others and I have come to the term - non binary trans guy.
Do I seem ungrateful? I don't mean to. If someone wants me at their big day, I'm the first one to dust off my fascinator and help them celebrate with quaffing some champagne. But I hate the thought anyone would feel obligated to have me there as an extension of who I'm with - it just seems a bit unfair.
Some zoos try to imitate the animal's natural habitat...but however large an enclosure, it can tell nothing of the scale of the captive animal's natural environment or how they behave in the wild.
This is just a small insight into the vast collection of Virtual Reality uses for improving our healthcare system and practices. Remaining at the forefront of technology has proved vital in medical research facilities all over the world, and has already helped with much needed scientific breakthroughs.
Most men always note my daughter's superhero t-shirts. The reactions vary. Most think it's cool. Some are jealous ("My wife would never let me dress my daughter in that"), but others are incredulous.
There was a moment when I knew, beyond any doubt, what it meant to be your mother. But it wasn't the day you were born. It wasn't the first time I knew about you, even - a long-awaited pink line forming in front of my eyes as I sat, perched on the edge of the cold bath, waiting.
I will still be voting for Owen Smith on the assumption that he is the more pragmatic of the two left-wing candidates. Yet it is increasingly apparent that whether with Smith or Corbyn the Labour Party finds itself in a bubble, engaging in conversation only with itself. This is a disastrous situation, as the party risks becoming not only unelectable but irrelevant.
So the occasion of Mo's outstanding success provides not merely the opportunity to recall that our country's past, present and future is not and cannot be one of mere isolation from the rest of the world. An upbeat reminder that we are lucky it is not. With our world in the grip of a refugee emergency, the sooner we acknowledge this, the better.
Insinuating that women should be ashamed to have body hair, or that the only reason they would remove it is for someone else's pleasure, is not giving them a choice. Especially when they have no choice in seeing the adverts.
It is easy to forget that behind every Instagram photo is a real person - in this case two, a mother and a daughter - and all those feigning concern over Abraham's daughter's welfare should take a second to think about the impact of their comment on the little girl in the photo.
I'm pleased to say that this week some artists you've actually heard of have released some new music. Would you like to hear this aforementioned music? Brilliant. Would you like to hear my musings on it? Well, you're getting them anyway. It's 'The Big Three'...
All these men suffer from the Entitlement disease which comes with the male belief that the Y chromosome gives them the right to dictate their preferences on us women. I have always dismissed such Muslim men as insignificant nobodies who cannot affect me or my choices.
Sadly, the power that the mayoralty affords David Lisnard does affect my choice.
The perfect body doesn't exist, just as the perfect trans* person doesn't exist. We will overstep boundaries and make you feel uncomfortable until you come to realise that your recognition of your man/womanhood is not the be all and end all.
There are two halves to most women's lives, clearly divided: BC (Before Children) and AD (After Delivery). As was the case with Jesus (should you be religiously inclined), welcoming a child into your life causes time to start all over again. Such is the significance.
Rape is still one of the lowest reported, and convicted crimes, and in order to change that, we need to come forward and break our silence. We need to stand together, not just as rape survivors, but as communities, and shout that we will not accept the objectification and abuse of our bodies - male or female.
Sometimes I look at my son and realise I could not live without him, despite the physical and mental pain I sometimes feel. I am blessed I am lucky to have an amazing courageous child like Kai.
I like to look on the sunny side of life, but even I have to recognise that our Party is scarcely in a shape to meet the challenge of a general election right now. We need a period of unity, self-discipline, policy development and talking to the public rather than ourselves - as I hope we will get once the leadership election is over - before we are ready to face the electorate with any realistic prospect of success.
The lack of action to ban supermarket promotions of junk food with buy one get one free deals and multipacks, as well as the failure to act on advertising junk aimed specifically at children during popular family television programmes and on the internet, are just two of the areas in which action had been expected, but wasn't delivered. Limiting fast food outlets near schools and colleges is a further area crying out for action.
A year ago, an image of the body of a little boy called Aylan Kurdi, washed up on a tourist beach in Bodrun, sparked horror and profound distress around the world. Aylan and his family had been fleeing the war in Syria and were seeking sanctuary and the chance to build new lives in Europe.
My mother is a time traveller. But she is not a Time Lord, orchestrating time, selecting her time and location on the TARDIS interface. The klaxons that are sounding in her head are instead fragmenting time, so she becomes subject to its will, marooned in the mid-1930s, looking through an increasingly opaque window onto the present.