Amid the heavier news of plunging stock markets, the report of the wedding of Manuel Uribe, the world's fattest man, came as light relief. But stories of these morbidly obese gargantuan eaters confined to bed always make me wonder about the role of their family. When the fatty first decides to stay in bed and asks for three breakfasts and a bedpan, why don't they just say, "Get up and get it yourself, you lazy bugger"? Wouldn't it save an awful lot of trouble?
For Uribe, there may be a better life ahead. Maintained on a strict diet by his new wife, he has already shed 250 of his previous 560 kilograms, and may in time be able to look forward to other pleasures in life than food.