Dimona, deep in the Negev desert, is the inaccessible little town used by Israel to park its unacknowledged nuclear weapons. It was also used, almost 40 years ago, to park an unacknowledged — and equally embarrassing — group of illegal immigrants. Thirty nine deeply religious “Black Hebrews” sought entry under the Law of Return, while insisting they were not Jews. They were rejected, so they bluffed their way in, determined to re-create the Kingdom of Yah in what they insisted was their lost homeland.

The 52 new Israeli immigrants who arrived at Ben Gurion Airport on Monday night began their journey to Zion in typical fashion, with an 80-minute delay on the runway at Heathrow. They took it in their stride, some even clapping when the plane finally landed in Tel Aviv though, on the whole, they were remarkably sober and quiet throughout the flight and immigration process.

Oxford University is probably the last place you would go to hear about old wives’ tales or, in that splendid Yiddish word for them, bubbemeises. But among the eight million volumes that make up the Bodleian Library’s vast reserves of knowledge sits a copy of the very first bubbemeise.

When it comes to political spin, the Israelis have a lot to learn from the Palestinians.

This is the view of marketing expert Jonathan Gabay, who has spent 30 years in advertising and whose new book, Soul Traders, looks at the impact of propaganda on popular culture.

If the key to getting attention for a new book relies to an extent on the title, Edward Kritzler has cracked it.

His new book is called Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean, which summons up visions of Yiddishe buccaneers, cutlass in one hand, tallit bag in the other, wreaking havoc on the high seas. It could almost be the title of a Mel Brooks movie.

But while there were indeed real Jewish pirates in the Caribbean, Kritzler, visiting London from his home in Jamaica, concedes the title of the book was “a commercial decision”.

I didn’t think a man could get breast cancer.” That was how most people reacted when Michael Rubenstein told them about his illness. Not that their surprise was the first thing on his mind. “I was too worried about having cancer to care too much about the fact that, usually, my illness only affects women,” he says.

The 59-year-old father of two from Enfield, north London was diagnosed with the disease in 2008. Male breast cancer is rare — there are only 300 new cases a year in the UK, compared to over 45,500 female cases.

He is the medical man with 40,000 people who go to him when they are in trouble. He is the GP who has cases referred to him. He is, above all, the doctor you hear more on radio or television than any other or read about in the newspapers.

Kim Schwartz
Was: Lawyer
Now: Tango teacher

Kim Schwartz, 33, worked as a corporate solicitor at international firm Norton Rose for four-and-half-years before she took a career break in Argentina to pursue her interest in tango. She returned three years later as a professional dancer and co-founded Tango Movement, a dance school and company, with her business partner David Benitez.