I WROTE a column entitled ‘No respect, no shame, no fear’ about a hardcore of moronic chavs in Worcester (Worcester News, March 12). Cue frothing-mouthed outrage from lukewarm liberals hell-bent on painting me as a goose-stepping Gestapo lunatic.

It may disappoint them to learn I have no insidious eugenics programme lined up for the Faithful City. Worse still, some even thought my column was a job application for the Daily Mail. What utter drivel. Don’t twist my words.

The real fascists are the brainwashed lynch mobs of the politically correct classes (alive and kicking on our website) who tell us all the time what we can and can’t say.

Their insatiable hunger to be offended is a kind of mass hysteria which smothers this country’s fine tradition of free speech. Judging by the letters and phone calls of support I have received it is clear that I speak for many people in Worcester who are afraid to open their mouths for fear of being branded a bigot or a mindless provincial.I’m neither.

I’m well-travelled, well-educated and well-read.

The column was only ever my opinion.

Worryingly, many of our readers can’t seem to distinguish between fact and opinion. Agree. Disagree. That’s your prerogative. But at least I have the guts to come out and say what I think (and put my name and ugly mug to it) unlike all these keyboard warriors hiding behind their online pseudonyms.

Many who disagreed with me missed the point entirely. When did I say all young people were chavs or incapable of making a meaningful contribution to society? I was always talking about a vociferous minority as I said in the original piece – if people bothered to read it properly.

Some of the more negative comments perfectly illustrated the kind of sickly sweet candyfloss liberalism which has caused such untold damage to the fabric of this country. You’re offended by what I say? Good. Be offended. Are you made of glass? Are your sensibilities so fragile that they can’t withstand the rigours of free speech? If you can’t see what’s happening in this country, may I politely suggest you pull your head out the sand and wipe the grit from your eyes.

A hardcore of professional scroungers exist in Worcester (and elsewhere) who are a drain on a welfare state that was never designed to nourish the feckless and indolent but to help the sick, the desperate, the vulnerable and the needy.

This was never a criticism of people, young or otherwise, who can’t find work (we’ve all been there) but of those who are unwilling even to try to find work.