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The situation for Christians in the Holy Land has been a topic of increasing concern. The region, considered sacred by Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike, has seen a significant shift in its Christian population over the years.Historically, the Holy Land has been a place of pilgrimage and worship for Christians worldwide. However, recent trends indicate a decline in the number of Christians residing in the area, raising questions about the future of Christian presence in the region.The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been a major factor contributing to this decline, with many Christians facing challenges related to displacement, economic instability, and religious tensions.Efforts to address these challenges and ensure the protection of Christian minorities in the Holy Land are underway. International organizations and religious leaders have been advocating for the rights of Christians and other religious minorities in the region, emphasizing the importance of preserving the cultural and religious diversity of the Holy Land.

Alan Cumming’s latest theatrical venture – The High Life: The Musical, Still Living It! – bursts onto the stage as a gleeful, pantomime‑style extension of the cult 1994 TV sitcom. Co‑written by series creator Johnny McKnight alongside Alan Cumming and Forbes Masson, the production is deliberately overloaded with jokes, ranging from references to Andrew Mountbatten‑Windsor to a tongue‑in‑cheek nod to Sheena Easton. The show’s panto DNA runs deep. Audiences are addressed directly, invited to sing along, and treated to an underwater neon‑tube dance. The set, a whimsical take on a Brigadoon‑style hotel, features tartan wallpaper designed by Colin Richmond, a life‑size dog, and multiple costume changes that heighten the spectacle. Returning to the stage, Cumming reprises the role of flight attendant Sebastian Flight, while Masson appears as his counterpart Steve McCracken. They are joined by a “legacy cast” that includes Siobhan Redmond as the exacting supervisor Shona Spurtle and Patrick Ryecart delivering a delightfully unhinged performance as Captain Hilary Duff. Supporting them are high‑energy performers Rachael Kendall Brown, Louise McCarthy and Kyle Gardiner, who navigate Masson’s clever, rhyming songs that swing from Broadway flair to Eurovision sparkle. Beyond the slapstick plot – a cartoonish battle over the fictional airline Air Scotia and a detour to the “Lower Largo Triangle” – the musical hints at deeper questions about ageing, national identity and the need for cultural renewal, echoing themes raised in earlier Scottish adaptations. Directed by Andrew Panton, the production is a joint effort between Dundee Rep and the National Theatre of Scotland. It runs at Dundee Rep until 4 April before embarking on a UK tour that concludes on 23 May. In the end, the show is less a philosophical treatise and more a big, joyous laugh‑fest that celebrates the spirit of pantomime.

Maggie Aderin-Pocock, a space scientist and CEO of Science Innovation Ltd, says the one item she would take to the lunar surface is a hand‑sewn purple‑cloth alien crafted by her daughter during a GCSE textile project. The tiny creature, made on a loom, embodies her child's love and would serve as a reminder of family ties at the farthest point from Earth. Sheila Hancock, acclaimed actor and writer, would use the trip as a cultural boot‑camp. She plans to study the complete works of Shakespeare, the epic novel War and Peace, and the full symphonies of Mahler as interpreted by Claudio Abbado, hoping the immersion will "strengthen her weakening brain" and deepen her appreciation of human genius. Michael Akadiri, a stand‑up comedian and resident doctor, imagines a lighter itinerary: a stack of old birthday cards to revisit heartfelt messages, an old‑school notepad for real‑time reflections, and a handful of puff‑puff (Nigerian doughnuts) – a cheeky nod to his fitness‑obsessed friends. Michael Rosen, children’s author and broadcaster, would bring three nostalgic comforts: giant yellow Chilean raisins from W Martyn’s shop in Muswell Hill, an oval brown pebble from the alleyway of his teenage flat, and the “furry” blanket his wife gave him during his 2020 COVID‑19 ventilator stay, each item a tactile link to his past. Athena Kugblenu, writer and comedian, opts for practicality and humor. She would pack a pair of Crocs for comfort, the guidebook Contact by Carl Sagan as a potential alien‑communication manual, and a jar of shito sauce – a Ghanaian shrimp‑tomato condiment – to introduce extraterrestrials to Ghanaian flavor before they learn English profanity. Nels Abbey, writer and broadcaster, frames his selection as a morale‑boosting toolkit. He would carry excerpts from Gil Scott‑Heron’s "Whitey on the Moon" and stand‑up routines by Paul Mooney, using their cynical wit to cope with the psychological challenges of space travel. Collectively, the panel’s choices illustrate how personal history, artistic heritage and even culinary curiosity can anchor humanity during the most extraordinary voyages. Their whimsical yet heartfelt lists underscore the idea that, even beyond Earth, we remain tethered to the stories, flavors and objects that define us.

In Barcelona, anti‑tourism demonstrators have added a culinary twist to their demands, chanting “Stop brunch!” alongside the more familiar “Ban Airbnb” as they protest soaring rents and the loss of local character.The rise of generic brunch venues—identical hipster cafés with the same menu, décor and background music—has become a symbol of overtourism, pushing out neighbourhood bars and eateries that once served the resident community.In response, Albert Molins, a journalist for La Vanguardia, launched a simple Google Maps list in autumn 2020. The list quickly evolved into a city‑wide movement to resurrect the Catalan tradition of esmorzar de forquilla (literally “fork breakfast”).This hearty mid‑morning meal, historically a 19th‑century labourer’s fuel, typically includes a main dish, wine, bread and coffee, and can be enjoyed for under €15. It is now served in modest, no‑frills taverns that showcase authentic Catalan flavours.Signature dishes differ sharply from the typical brunch fare. Patrons can savour trinxat—a pan‑fried potato and cabbage hash topped with crisp pancetta—fricandó (stewed veal with mushrooms), bacallà amb samfaina (fried cod on stewed vegetables), and the richly spiced botifarra sausage. For off‑al lovers, options such as callos (tripe stew), peus de porc (pigs’ feet) and the indulgent cap i pota (veal head and feet stew) are on offer.The original map has since been redeveloped into the functional EsmorzApp, uniting a growing community of “fork‑breakfast enthusiasts” and attracting younger diners alongside long‑time local patrons.Restaurant owner Gerard Llopart notes that his establishment in Barcelona’s Eixample district now welcomes a broader, more diverse crowd, proving that the revival resonates beyond its traditional base.While the movement does not single‑handedly solve overtourism, it demonstrates how locals can reclaim cultural space and invite tourists to partake in genuine culinary heritage. As Molins puts it, the fork breakfast is “our history,” and visitors are encouraged to download the app and ask for un cap i pota, si us plau?

Iranians gathered in parks to celebrate the New Year, defying the backdrop of ongoing attacks and demonstrating their resilience. The tradition of spending the New Year in outdoor settings, particularly in parks, holds significant cultural value. This year's celebrations were marked by a sense of community and solidarity as people came together to usher in the new year.The decision to celebrate in public spaces like parks underscores the importance of communal activities in Iranian culture. Despite the challenges posed by ongoing attacks, the Iranian people chose to focus on joy and renewal, highlighting their ability to find moments of peace and celebration amidst adversity.

Al Jazeera presents an in‑depth look at Mohamed Salah, exploring the intertwining of his football achievements, personal faith, and the evolving public narrative surrounding elite athletes. The piece highlights how Salah’s on‑field success—marked by record‑breaking goal tallies and pivotal titles—has become a platform for discussing broader cultural themes. His openness about his religious beliefs offers a rare glimpse into the personal convictions that shape his professionalism. By examining Salah’s influence beyond the pitch, the article underscores a changing perception of sports figures: no longer seen solely as entertainers, but as individuals capable of driving social dialogue and challenging stereotypes. Through interviews, match footage, and commentary from peers, the feature illustrates how Salah’s story resonates with fans worldwide, fostering a deeper appreciation for the role of faith and identity in modern football.

The recent visit of Anthropic's CEO Dario Amodei to Canberra has sparked a critical examination of the role of AI in society. Amodei, known for his 'progressive' approach to AI, has been promoting a vision of a future where AI transforms the economy and improves lives. However, the author of the article argues that this vision may not be as progressive as it seems. The risks associated with AI, such as job displacement, cultural homogenization, and potential harm to individuals, cannot be ignored. The article highlights the concerns of experts like Toby Walsh, who notes that AI is both good and bad, and that its impact depends on how it is used and regulated. The author, Peter Lewis, questions his own progressive credentials and argues that the unchecked development of AI threatens to undermine the very notion of progress. He suggests that the government should slow down the development of AI and establish guardrails to prevent its negative consequences. The article cites examples of experts and politicians, such as Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who are calling for a moratorium on the development of new datacenters. The author argues that this cautious approach is necessary to ensure that AI is developed in a way that benefits society as a whole, rather than just a select few. Ultimately, the article concludes that the future of AI must be shaped by a nuanced and informed discussion about its potential risks and benefits. The author argues that only by slowing down the development of AI and establishing clear regulations can we ensure that its impact is truly progressive.

In a picturesque woodland setting, a remarkable partnership between a 12-year-old mare named Etty and her handler, Toby Hoad, showcases the effectiveness of horse logging. This traditional yet sustainable method of extracting tree trunks causes minimal disturbance to the environment compared to mechanized approaches. Etty, a stocky chestnut mare, works in tandem with Toby, requiring a deep understanding and trust between them. Toby explains that building a strong relationship with his equine partner is crucial: 'You've really got to build up a relationship; you've got to build up trust. I can drop the reins, and she will pull out the log for me if it's in a tight spot.' The use of horsepower for logging offers several advantages. Equines are more maneuverable, can work in restricted spaces, don't compact the ground, and cope well with wet conditions without damaging the forest floor. These benefits make horse logging an attractive alternative to traditional methods. Toby, one of only a handful of professionals doing this job full-time, uses the French Comtois draught breed for their strength and suitability for the task. The breed's compact size and robust nature make them ideal for navigating woodland terrain. Toby notes that traditional UK heavy horses, such as shires, would be too large for this work. As the seasons change, Toby and Etty are nearing the end of their current project, removing diseased ash trees from a coppice. The work will resume in September, with the team taking a break to participate in agricultural shows and engage in other activities like bracken rolling, a non-chemical method of controlling fern growth.

Several readers of The Guardian have voiced strong opinions that the classic British pub ought to be treated as an adult‑only environment. They contend that the interior of a pub, where alcohol is served in large quantities, is fundamentally a space for grown‑ups to relax, converse, and enjoy a drink without the added responsibility of supervising children. Diane Silva of Bournemouth, Dorset emphasizes that while a beer garden might accommodate a family‑friendly dining area during daylight hours, the indoor setting should remain reserved for adults. She likens the situation to adults avoiding children’s play areas such as McDonald’s ball pits or playground swings, noting that “it’s not our space.” Other contributors echo this sentiment. Penny McPhillips from Garstang, Lancashire recalls a past legal claim involving a theatre patron who slipped on ice, suggesting that entitlement among customers can lead to a broader abdication of responsibility, especially when tickets, drinks, or even school uniforms have been purchased. Nigel Linford of Eastbourne, East Sussex adds a cultural reference, quoting WC Fields: “Any man who hates dogs and children can’t be all bad,” to underline the notion that discomfort with children in certain public venues does not make one wholly unreasonable. The letters also mention pub landlord Egil Johansen, who, according to the writers, is not alone in feeling pressured by customer expectations that blur the line between family hospitality and adult leisure. Overall, the correspondence calls for a clearer distinction between indoor pub spaces—reserved for adult patrons—and outdoor areas that could safely host families, thereby preserving the traditional role of the pub as a “wind‑down” spot for adults.