'We may soon be in an age where bartering and trading posts will replace currency'

Welcome to 2009. Broken windows. Graffiti. A sinister wind rattling past the boarded shopfronts. Children eating sloppy handfuls of scraps from the bottom of dustbins in order to survive. No money. No food. No Woolworths.

The country could do what every problem is solved by nowadays: turning itself off and then turning back on again.

They say that cutting back is the only way we're going to be surviving 2009. Maybe a small amount of cannibalism. But cutting back is prominent.

But, it would seem that 2009 is actually set to be a good year. Why? Not because everyone's going to lose their jobs and have to eat their fingers and toes to stay alive, but because - with something collective to worry about - there should be less emphasis on the silly little things that don't matter quite as much.

Realising that their houses are worth about as much as a few grains of sugar and setting them alight to stay warm; people will probably start forgetting about whether the bananas they buy are organic, carbon-neutral, nuclear-free, and personally blessed by Jamie Oliver in a pesticide-liberated wind farm just north of Rio De Janeiro.

After all, during the great depression of the early 1900s and two World Wars, there were no loonies chaining themselves to a fence demanding we save the whales and polar bears, and prevent new roads from being built in case vehicles crush any slugs or ants.

We can only hope that being united by universal financial demise will mean there will be less time and money spent on the unimportant.

In 2008, while the banks collapsed, everyone's money went up in smoke and the government were in their bunkers creating a 10-week crash course on how to change a light bulb safely; everyone let them get away with it because they were too distracted by Madonna's divorce or which coloured bin they needed to put their plastic bottles in.

And the environmental protesters seemed more bothered about the greenhouse gas emissions coming from the back of an Army tank as opposed to the high-explosive tank rounds at the front killing women and children in collateral damage.

Therefore, in 2009, with everyone frying their goldfish for extra protein and shopkeepers offering to massage your feet if they thought there was even half a chance of you buying a Twix, there should be no news of any composting of potato peelings or a celebrity's nose or breast dropping off.

We may soon be in an age where bartering and trading posts will replace currency.

So, can we expect a year when government efforts and money are directed in the way of something useful?

No.

It seems, this year, that Britain's last morsel of common sense has joined Woolworths, Eldorado and Spangles as things of the past.

Enter Change4Life: the government's £75million initiative that's going to turn Britain in to a slim, healthy nation. The new adverts say "Move! Live!"

Supposedly, the adverts in 2010 are going to suggest that we "Blink!" and "Breath!" - just in case the public, with hydrogenated blubber exploding their brain cells, may forget to do anything for themselves.

Because, of course, they think the public, without their intervention, are going to die with a tripplebypassburger and fries hanging out their mouth while reading the Daily Star.

That's probably why the new initiative's has a "4" instead of "four" - because they think the dense public that they govern are having trouble with words.

Or, it may be so fat kidz on da street will understand it and start dodging bullets while jogging in the local park instead of playing on PlayStations.

'Bankruptcy is set to be all the rage this season'

CHRISTMAS has come and gone and everyone's attention seems to be turning to what's ahead in 2009.

Unless you're one of those people whose New Year's Resolution was to not have any resolutions, most people's are very similar. By the end of January you'll have given up alcohol for at least 17 minutes and have a year's subscription to the local gym that you will only have gone to once: to spend a couple of minutes on a treadmill or pick up a weight and put it back down again.

That's if you haven't invested in the latest celebrity exercise DVD that you tried and couldn't complete; not bothering to press the stop button because the remote control has dropped off the end of the sofa and you're eaten so many Miniature Heroes you can't physically, or be bothered, to move.

And, as bankruptcy is set to be all the rage this season, this year's winter sales are perhaps more prominent.

There have already been queues outside retailers from the early hours since Boxing Day. Millions of people will be dashing into shops and ripping clothes off the rails (or from the floor in TK Maxx) for the bargains in the hope that they will find what they're looking for.

In the winter, when you need a warm coat, the shops sell summer-wear and swimsuits. And in the summer, when you are thinking of holidaying in the sun, all you can get is warm clothes and scarves.

Many people have been waiting for the winter sales to spend their vouchers and get the prices that they think the stores should be charging in the first place. Prices in the shops have been getting higher all year as if British inflation had somehow been confused with that of Zimbabwe's.

Pairs of jeans from only £4, jumpers and fleeces from only £3, and pairs of shoes from only £2.50. I'm sure the Bangladeshi children stitching in their own blood, sweat, and tears are much obliged.

Food shopping is pretty easy: a woman who breathes heavily with her mouth open, drags your bread and milk across the scanner numerous times before calling Maggie to run along and find how much it costs. Simple.

But general shopping itself, I hear, is much more difficult than it used to be.

It isn't fun to be wading through shops with people intent on bumping into you at every opportunity, walking in front of you then suddenly stopping because they're out of breath, confused, or have been distracted by something shiny.

It's no surprise internet shopping has proliferated.

As I'm writing this I could have a tab open with a shopping cart full of books waiting for me to press 'purchase', and I know that what I see on the screen in front of me will be on the doorstep tomorrow morning.

Secondly, if I couldn't just type the title of the book into an online search engine, I would have to wonder around a real book shop. This usually consists of rummaging through the autobiographies of 12-year-old singers and books about tea with the Vicar in a village, or asking for help from an unwary member of staff who think that Charles Dickens is a fictional character and Salman Rushdie is a sexually transmitted disease.

And you can get all your music from iTunes for your iPod from the comfort of your iHome.

But then again, doing the shopping online does have its downsides. You can usually only buy something after you've given your name, address, email, what password you would like to use, how much you earn, and whether you would like some Viagra from Mr. Seboni in South Africa for £4.99 a pop.

'You may have spent the last 3 months working up to this but it never turns how you wanted it to'

The latest addition of the television guide is double the size so it can fit in all the repeats of Christmas specials that will be on television, everything has had to be taken out of the fridge or squashed up at the top to make way for a 15lb turkey, and the same card from the next-door neighbours keeps dropping off the mantelpiece. It can only mean one thing - it's the season of good will.

Already this week, there have been interviews on the news of people suggesting that Christmas isn't what it used to be. Oh, it's no good anymore; it's too commercialised, oh, it hasn't got the same feeling that it used to have, oh, it was so much more family orientated in the old days - it used to be ten times better.

Of course, that depends if you thought sitting, playing with an orange and a thimble on Christmas day in the freezing cold with rickets, polio, and smallpox was part of the festive spirit.

But, after spending Christmas eve looking for a jar of cranberry sauce and throwing elderly women and children in opposite directions to get the last one, Christmas day never goes to plan anyway.

Christmas day. The big day. You may have spent the last 3 months working up to this day but it never turns how you wanted it to.

You get up at the crack of dawn to put the bird in the oven - using a new method this year (as always) after seeing your favourite television chef make it look perfect the week before.

This time, as you've heard Jamie Oliver say, for this year's latest method for preparation of the perfect turkey you need to make a special mixture to pour over the top: you need to import emu oil from the Australian outback; making sure it's travelled by sea - not aeroplane, add it to the fur of big foot before being stirred with the horn of a unicorn, poured over the French alps and lightly filtered over Angelina Jolie's nipples.

But, you still know in the back of your mind the turkey will still be dry.

You'll then rush to open the presents and watch the last 3 months worth of money that you gladly through into the arms of capitalism be ripped open and left scattered all over the room in about 10 minutes.

And you can watch and count how long people stare in admiration at a Top Shop voucher or at the book they told you to buy them.

If you're young you'll want to play with your toys that you can't open without a chain saw and several nuclear warheads. If you're a mother you stare blankly at the kettle with built in water filter and if you're a father you smile and pretend that socks and a Toblerone was just what you've always wanted.

And as for entertainment: In an age where television, PlayStations, the internet, Blu-Ray players and Nintendo Wii's compete for the attention of our eyeballs, watching Mary Poppins for the 100th time may not be the most popular choice.

And it's also time for people to complain about what's actually on the television at Christmas. Gone are the days of 30 million viewers watching Den serving Angie divorce papers; 10 million viewers is now deemed popular.

Forget the birth of Christ, it seems to be Doctor Who Day. The Queen's speech in HD, Strictly Come Dancing (again) and the soap storylines that probably involve an affair, a dead body, someone leaving, and a pregnancy test.

But while it's easy to criticise and be miserable and see whether the family are still talking to each other by the time Wallace and Gromit starts, everyone enjoys Christmas in their own little way.

While we wish John Lennon's Happy Christmas War is Over was still relevant and while it can be a time of reflection on loss and a time when you can feel homesick in your own home as much as it is a time for celebration - Christmas isn't just a date for presents and tinsel and television - it's a reminder that another year has passed, time is moving on and so while we can groan and grumble we should make of it what we can.

No matter how bad the family are.

'Some workplaces are preventing Christmas decorations from being put up on Health and Safety grounds'

I wondered over to the woman with the bright red satchel and leaflets hoping she was, as any woman with a bright red satchel and leaflets in the Bullring usually are, carrying free samples. I tried to make it look like I didn't seem too desperate for freebies by moving fast enough as though I had somewhere I needed to be but slow enough for her to stop me, to say "Excuse me...", and shower me with free gifts.

I was just starting to think about how I was going to act surprised that she had stopped me at random to offer complimentary samples when she saw me and said, "Excuse me...Do you and your family want a safe Christmas?"

I stopped and thought. This all depended whether her opening line was her way of issuing a Mafia-like threat in an If-you-want-to-live-follow-my instructions kind of way or whether she was saying it in a would-you-be-interested-in-a-free-gift-that-will-
increase-your-personal-safety? kind of way.

Since she didn't appear to have a gun or a box of burglar alarms I decided she didn't mean either. But the fact she had an accent that suggested she was about to run me down with a combine harvester is always going to cause doubt in any urban setting.

I slowed down and pretended I may have been interested. Just on the off chance. She smiled and said, "Did you know that 80% of people wash their turkeys at Christmas, which significantly increases the risk of food poisoning?"

Oh crap.

"And...Did you know that over 1000 people are injured by Christmas trees each year?"

No Freebies.

"And," at this point she was looking pretty pleased with herself passing me a leaflet, "did you know that 55% of alcohol drinkers consume more than the maximum recommended units of alcohol?"

I would have struggled to answer one question let alone her asking me three at once. Was I supposed to answer her or would she think I was trying to be clever? Are you supposed to say you don't know and act interested to hear the answer?

I gave a simple "Yes," and carried on walking. She seemed taken aback and then scowled at me as though I was the one who shot Bambi's mother. How dare you not listen to my health and safety facts.

I must admit that I didn't know washing the Turkey is supposed increase the spread of bacteria, but then again, I never have cooked, and don't intend on cooking, a turkey anytime soon. Or any food for that matter.

It seems that "elf n' safety" is interfering with Christmas more and more every year.

Guides and Brownies, in one borough have prevented people from singing carols near a shopping centre on Christmas Eve this year. Probably in case the husbands who are running around, last minute, wondering if it's acceptable to buy their wives a broom as a Christmas present, decide to stop and listen to the singing which may cause other passersby to bump into or even trip over them while they stand and watch.

Church bell-ringers have been told to wear earmuffs and protective helmets. Just in case the 400kg (62 stone) bell falls on their head.

Even some workplaces are preventing Christmas decorations from being put up on Health and Safety grounds.

Some have even complained on a religious discrimination injunction that banning Christmas decorations is being prejudice against the Christian belief.

Although, perhaps baubles, tinsel, Christmas trees and all the other Yuletide paraphernalia that's been available in the shops since mid-July may not epitomise Christian values, anyway.

But then, we wouldn't want anyone to trip over a pine needle and make a claim to InjuryLawyers4U, would we?

'We seem to be spending all the money on the most ridiculous experiments'

OVER the last 20 years, different governments have told us that there isn't enough money in the country's pot to send soldiers to fight with little more than sticks and stones, to bring the country's children out of poverty, and to allow the NHS to invest in soap and water.

But now, all of a sudden, the government seems to be rolling in dough. They can afford to cut interest rates to two per cent, nationalise all the banks, buy every house in the country, and still afford to carry out £10 million surveys into the recent proliferation of nettles and brambles.

There have been recent suggestions that there is insufficient funding in Britain's science and technology schemes.

It is said that the UK invests only 28% of what other countries such as Germany and Switzerland are investing in their science programmes.

And it's not surprising children are not as interested in science. There has been a decline of 20% in students taking science courses over the last 15 years.

There has been many health and safety rules recently that has meant that fewer experiments can be done in school labs and the fun has been taken out of science. Today you just have to sit and do calculations because throwing a small piece of sodium in a bowl of water and watching it ignite is now said to be too dangerous in many schools.

There was a time, a few years ago, when you could throw a big lump of sodium in to a large bowl and take Kings Heath off the map, and gone are the days when you could sprinkle bits of the sodium in the teacher's hair and hope for rain.

It seems that there are going to be a reduced number of scientists in years to come. In the future everyone will be able to defend criminals, analyse society's class system, and tell you about the life of Winston Churchill in 4 different languages - but no one will know how to replace the batteries in the new state-of-the-art remote control.

And the scientists that we will have will be analysing whether how many times we blink in a day has anything to do with the uptake of leprosy and whether eating only dairy products will cause you to sprout an extra toe.

With all the famine in the world, the energy crisis, and the fact the Earth is supposed to boil itself into eternity, you would think that Britain's scientists are busy in their bunkers; scratching their heads and drinking 10 cups of coffee an hour trying to come up with some solutions.

But no. We seem to be spending all the money on the most ridiculous experiments.
Yesterday a report was released suggesting that children "chewing their food slowly" would help to reduce the risks of cancer and that the more intelligent you are, the more healthy your sperm.

Anyone who believes this had better think about adoption.

While our European cousins are trying to cure all diseases and the US are trying to set up camp on new planets, here in Britain we're spending millions on finding out that passive smoking is harmful, that if you pour boiling water on your hand it may hurt, and are investigating which type of cheese tastes the best.

Women who take HRT will have a stroke or become so fat they have to be collected by the council and taken to be deflated. Range Rovers cause global warming and global warming is bad because we don't like it when the weather's hot.

We're all going to die because we eat red meat. Eating a sausage per day will give you a stomach ulcer and even worse - if it's an Irish sausage your head will explode.

If you eat butter or drink milk, you will die an agonising death and if you use a mobile phone or go near a pylon, you will turn into Jackie Stallone.

And that's if cornflakes don't get to you first.

'You'll probably start receiving your pension when you reach the age of 114'

ONCE upon a time, at the age of 65; you retired with a gold watch, a carriage clock, or a signature plate to remind you of all those years you paid into the state's pocket. You spent your pension on cruises or potting plants or model ships and when you weren't doing that you went looking around Marks and Spencer's for 'sensible shoes'.

Then, sometime later, you ascended on your Stannah stair lift to Heaven; your money going to your family - if they came to visit you - or the local sanctuary for cats with one eye and three legs if they didn't.

But now, things are different. Firstly, you'd be lucky if you can live on a state pension. You've reached the age of 65 and you were hoping to sit down with a cup of Ovaltine and catch up with This Morning, which you've missed for the last 20 years.

You may have been deciding to collect a few tea towels and book a few holidays to places you've always dreamed of going.

But, by the time you realise how much money you're going to get (just 17% of your average lifetime earnings) you find you have to go back to work or sit at home with cold toes because you can't afford to turn the central heating on and you play with a lose thread on your jumper because you can't afford the electricity bill to watch This Morning anyway.

Britain has the worst pension system in Europe. Across the EU, the average pension is a return of 57% of your lifetime's savings. In Britain, just 17% of your average life's savings is what you can expect to get back. Frieda and John Pierre across Europe are on the high seas with their yacht, gold medallions and £1million healthcare insurance while Ethel and Walter in the UK make-do with their £10 Christmas bonus and are praying the NHS can keep their limbs attached.

And it will probably get worse.

The chances are, with pensioners living forever and the retired population continuing to rise, further changes are probably going to be made.

In the future, after spending your whole life paying taxes to ensure our politicians can enjoy the view of a post-Woolworths apocalyptic landscape from the comfort of their £40,000 cars, you'll probably start receiving your pension when you reach the age of 114. And you'll only get it if you were born on the 3rd Wednesday of a month. In the summer. Of a leap year. Under a full moon.

But, being old and retired is not all that bad. Many pensioners out there are not going to let a rubbish pension ruin their retirement.

It's not all about death and boredom.

When you reach the age when you can live without sex but not without your glasses and people call you at 8pm and say "Did I wake you?", there are those who will like to spend their money on wholesale teabags and copious amounts of menthol products.

But there are just as many who give two fingers to the pension system and the state, and spend their hours surfing the internet, kickboxing and break dancing.

And there are still many positives to being old.

Your joints are more accurate at gauging the weather than the Met Office, all your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them, it's now socially acceptable to sing along to music in shopping centres, you think comparing operation scars is entertainment, you can go to eat dinner at 3pm without people thinking you're strange, you can start to wear those clothes you think have come back in, but never actually were, in fashion, you can have a party without the neighbours even realising, and you'll always be the first released from a hostage situation.

'There are many who are still surprised by the differences in today's children from when they were younger'

"CONSIDERING the graphs of Y = X2 -1 and Y = 1 + √x, and the line Y = X, show that the solution of the equation X2 - 1 = 1 + √x is X = 1/2( 3 + √5 )." This is the point at which a parent, looking at their child's homework, frowns and decides to put the kettle on.

There is the common conception that today's kids are terrorising residents by standing on street corners and poking frail grannies with sticks before mugging them. But, the chances are, they're at home studying the Franco-Prussian War, mastering particle physics or becoming fluent in 23 languages.

The 11-Plus exam has been axed as the last 15,000 pupils in Northern Ireland sat the grammar school entrance tests last week. It has been suggested that the test causes children to feel like "failures" at the age of 11.

There are many parents who, when realising that they can't help their 8-year-old with quadratic equations, seize the moment and start reciting their times tables that they learned parrot-fashion while being smacked with the cane on every prime number back in 1974.

There's something, perhaps satisfactory, in listing the times tables by parents to their children because they know their children don't actually know them. But they don't need them. They have calculators and they know you don't get into NASA's space program from knowing 6 x 6 = 36.

There are many who feel that today's exams are much easier for students than when they were at school. But that all depends if you think being able to recite your 19 times tables is actually; 1. maths and 2. going to amount to anything.

The mobile phones that we use today, the televisions we watch and the pills we take when we are ill did not come from someone with a degree in knitting who knows the capital of Botswana.

There are many who are still surprised by the differences in today's children from when they were younger. While today's 11-year-olds are going on school trips to Science Centres, studying rock formations on the coast, or going in a rocket with the whole of class 6E to see what the Earth looks like from space, there are many who probably remember waiting at the bus stop with a woolly hat and a Penguin Biscuit in their pocket, for the bus back from swimming lessons in 1978. Not really as exciting.

While those who were brought up to sleep in beds coated in lead-based paints, in an age without childproof lids on medicine bottles, and in a time when people thought it was fashionable to have a photograph taken standing next to their car with hair like someone from a Die Hard movie, many only had to worry whether they were going to play out till 8 or 9 O'clock. Today's generation have to worry about the financial crisis, polar bears dying horrible deaths in the Arctic, and being charged with treason for being in support of plastic bags.

And entertainment has also changed. While it may have been mildly interesting to have played with string and mud in the past, today's generation won't touch anything that doesn't have to be plugged in and that doesn't involve shooting virtual people in the face.

And while the Enid Blyton's Famous Five amused previous generations, the children today bought up on Harry Potter; who's stories involve magic, danger and death probably won't enjoy them. Unless they were updated to involve wizards, wands and or something exciting like the murder of an international drugs baron.

"It's the weekend already!" exclaimed Julian, "And I've just heard that smugglers have been seen sailing towards the island! It looks mighty exciting! Shall we investigate?"

"Shut up," said George. "And move your ass out the way of the TV, we're on the last level of Hit and Run Whores 2008 and then we've got some more quantum physics questions to do before bed!"

'It's not the fact that McDonald's are sponsoring the Olympics that's making everyone fat'

WHEN, in the supermarket, we read the back of food packaging and see that "E128, E102, hemlock, and cyanide" is written just above "may contain traces of bleach", we are divided in opinion. Some of us obviously think: "Hmmm... does this really need to be in a packet of crisps?" And some of us must think: "Ooooh! Buy one get one free!"

It's not only the fact that a radioactively luminous boiled sweet causes children to sing "I know a song that will get on your nerves" down your ear canal, scream "I hope you die!" loud enough for the neighbours to hear while the bathroom window's open, and write "Everybody hates me" on the wall in permanent marker; it seems the government are now suddenly concerned with the health risks posed by additives.

Ministers have agreed, this week, that if food manufacturers do not voluntarily phase out the additives, which the Food Standards Agency asked them to stop using earlier this year, they will pursue a ban through law.

Yet another item on the list of things to be banned.

Of course, the long-term effects of additives are unknown and while we don't want future generations to have two heads, fourteen ears and sound like Joe Pasquale, is it right to forge a slim, smoke-free, tofu-eating society by banning everything that is deemed to be bad?

The government have already banned junk food advertising between children's television shows and it was said last week that 80% of people think junk food advertising makes staying slim impossible. Although, this is more likely an excuse by fat people as to why they're still fat.

Blame it on the advertising.

This may make sense if people hadn't noticed that what you actually receive is never what is advertised.

The fast food you ordered, after looking at it on the poster, doesn't even slightly resemble what actually comes with your meal. Your fries are stale and cold, the chemicals in the fizzy drink are soaking a hole through the paper cup and your Super-Dooper-McBeef-Royale-Whopper burger looks like it's been trodden on by Queen Latifah.

But that's not all.

The debate into food companies sponsoring sporting events have also ignited a recent controversy. Cadbury's, McDonald's and Coca-Cola have already become official associates with the London 2012 Olympics. Carling put their name to the Football League Cup 5 years ago and surely, it should be that brands should be able to sponsor whomever they wish without state intervention.

If Carling wants to be associated with football, and Iceland want to be associated with old has-been "celebrities" sitting in urine in the jungle for the public's entertainment, they should, of course, be able too.

It's not the fact that McDonald's are sponsoring the Olympics that's making everyone fat.

That's just an idle excuse.

It's not even surprising the government gave up on criticising junk food companies who are sponsoring sports: "Welcome to the London 2012 Olympics - sponsored by celery," and "Welcome to the FA Cup Final - sponsored by Organic Whole Wheat Pasta," isn't going to work.

Unless the government come up with some decent, less intrusive and less totalitarian ways of changing people's lifestyles and eating habits, nothing's going to change.

There's even talk of free pedometers being issued to make sure everyone makes their 10,000 steps per day. But everyone already knows it's only 5 steps from the chair to the cupboard for a packet of crisps, 3 steps to the fridge for a chocolate bar, and then about 8 steps to the car.

'Is the strongest argument against democracy, listening to what the average member of the public has to say?'

There has been lots of talk over the last few days about what effect President-elect Barack Obama will have on Britain. People seem to be jumping for joy under the impression that Obama will part the Atlantic, walk straight into Westminster and suddenly sort out the world's problems as well. The global economy will correct itself, the Earth won't boil its way to a bitter end, and there will be no dog crap all over the pavement.

As the world reflects on the image of true democracy; a governmental system where representatives are chosen to embody into commandment the views of the electorate, regardless of social background, gender and colour - many have been asking whether the system we have in Britain is even democratic at all.

Of course, democracy is great. Every 4 or 5 years we get to decide which faction of elitists are going to call us fat, stupid, violent, and poor. If that isn't the defining pinnacle of an autonomous nation, what is?

We get to choose between people who think the population are obese because chocolate bars are placed at the checkouts instead of celery. Or those who think eco-towns are a good idea - where people can live in straw huts and jog to work at the local recycling plant while listening to Michael Jackson's Earth Song on their carbon-neutral MP3 player and be escorted by robins and blue tits in a terribly cheerful fashion.

Although, what about if we scrapped representative democracy? The democracy that thought it was representing the people when they sent the country to war, ensured there was a 48% Duty on fuel, and attempted to either tax or ban everything they could see.

But would it be any better with total democracy, where every issue was voted on by the electorate?

Or is the strongest argument against democracy, listening to what the average member of the public has to say?

Put the running of the country in the hands of the people. The voting system would soon follow a Big Brother-X-Factor style so people wouldn't have to bother going to a polling station:

"Would you like a national network of free chocolate to be piped to every house in the country? Text YES to 000666 if you agree with this proposal or text NO to 0064596827827998376478374918274672897648 if you disagree with this proposal. Texts cost £9.99 each. Lines close in 12 hours. Any votes made after this time will not be counted but you may still be charged or shot."

If this was the case there would also, of course, be no soldiers dying overseas. Fuel would be reduced to about 1p per litre, all cinema tickets would be free, and every Monday would become a bank holiday.

But Carol Vorderman would become Chancellor of the Exchequer, 24's Jack Bauer would be the new Defence Secretary and the new Foreigner Secretary, A Place In the Sun's Amanda Lamb, would be forced to make sure no one puts their towels on sun loungers at 4am when we're on holiday. And all people in Europe must now except, and not scoff, at British culture whilst on holiday: that is getting drunk at 5pm and spending the rest of the evening on our backs in a pile of vomit.

A new conflict would soon arise in international relations. A new battle would be waged with Greenland cos she looked at us funny. Belgium better run cos she called our Queen a tramp, Italy can watch out cos she said our hips look big in these jeans or somfink, and France better watch their back cos he's been disrespectin' us. Innit?

'...there are many people out there who aren't happy until they're angry'

FORTY-FIVE-THOUSAND people are said to be killed in the Congo every month, many pensioners can't afford to pay heating bills this Christmas, and people are being stabbed to death in the streets. Yet there are a certain number of people who still find the time and effort to call Ofcom and complain that Have I Got News For You is on the same time as Midsommer Murders and 'it's just not fair'.

When we hear that over thirty-thousand people have complained about comments made on a Radio 2 show; we imagine crazed, Dawn-of-the-Dead-style riots with angered townsfolk carrying pitchforks and firebombs on their way to Radio 2 studios to end this 'crime against humanity.'

And when the Prime Minister spontaneously takes a break from disillusioning the country to make an announcement, we would expect him to make a speech about ending child poverty or preventing knife crime. Instead, he condemns Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross for 'inappropriate and unacceptable behaviour'.

Of course, the deplorable comments of Radio 2 presenters should bring the whole country to a standstill. The flag at Buckingham Palace should be flown at half-mast and Bob Geldof should organise a Brand Aid concert on account of Brand and Ross being placed on the Sachs Offenders Register. A necessary ministerial grumble if ever there was one.

Suddenly, thousands of people feel the need to complain about the childish answer phone messages. But, if any of those thirty-something-thousand complainers saw Andrew Sachs being beaten with a golf club in the street, they would probably find a really interesting particle of dust in the other direction.

Perhaps the situation wouldn't have been so challenging if the calls were made to the phone of another 'edgy' comedian. But Andrew Sachs? With his crossword-by-the-fire lifestyle and his pockets full of Werther's Original?

If people put even half of their complaining-effort into real issues affecting Britain; the economy, violent crime and war, we would be closer to finding solutions.

We accept bankers running off with our money, not being able to leave the house without getting mugged, and paramedics carrying body bags in our streets. But if Jeremy Clarkson comes on and makes a joke about prostitutes, he should be burned at the stake, or worse; be made to present Songs of Praise.

There were also several hundred complaints when ITV's Central Tonight announced plans to merge with the East Midlands broadcast.

However, those people who like their daily dose of inane, drip-fed regional television and have been complaining about the merger, will be glad to hear that; instead of having overweight diplomats of free-thinking mindsets wearing 'Save our school' t-shirts on news bulletins in Birmingham, we will soon be having the Melton Mowbray equivalent counterparts fighting to save a school sixty miles away. Oh great.

Whilst we must admire the deep sincerity of local news television, (placing a story about a soldier killed fighting for his country between a feature regarding a cat who's swallowed a ping pong ball and a middle aged woman who's entering a pie-eating contest to raise money to have her sister's bunion removed), it may not always be the most informative news medium.

Yet people complain when they think they won't be able to watch it any more. 'It's an infringement of our civil liberties.'

Let's face it, councillors with the personality and intellect of a frying pan talking about new 'cost-effective' recycling plants, have never really been the cutting-edge of regional broadcasting.

You wouldn't really think the country's in a recession and at war overseas. You wouldn't even think we've witnessed the end of the biggest and most expensive presidential election result in history. It seems that there are many people out there who aren't happy until they're angry. Complaining about trivial issues when there are bigger things at hand only ends up in the same old situation where it's usually the wrong heads that roll...