● SINCE my stern reference to the over-use of that contrived word europhobe by the pro-EU lobby, there appears to have been a refreshing absence of this tedious cliché on the Worcester News website.

After this success, I can announce that my next target for extinction is the equally awful xenophobe, a term of abuse that is also sprinkled about like verbal confetti. Of course, adding phobe to anything is really an attempt to silence an opponent and as such constitutes a threat – albeit a minor one – to free speech.

The trouble is also that many people find a comfortable label that seems to fit, so they then flog it to death. It’s a bit like getting a train set for Christmas only to be bored rigid with the wretched thing by Boxing Day night. And that’s how I feel.

My favourite much-mangled version of this word was supplied by a Worcestershire councillor a few years ago who called me a zennerphobe, obviously thinking that I’d be absolutely cut to the quick. Oh dear. He obviously didn’t do Greek at school.

● UNLIKE provincial newspapers, the national press is now solely driven by agendas.

Pick up your Worcester News and that’s exactly what you get. Pick up a London-centric red top or ‘quality’ paper and it’s either celebrity pap or students’ union debating society angst.

The liberal pundits – I am at a loss why they are so described – labour daily at trying to convince us that things are much the same as they ever were. True, there’s crime but that’s not the fault of individuals, rather the fault of a corrupt society.

Indeed, we are told that the present age is no different from the past when razor gangs, Teddy boys, and mods and rockers caused mayhem.

Unfortunately the 50-plus deaths from gun and knife crime over the last 18 months in London alone do cast doubt on such notions of normality. Elsewhere, there have for long been no-go areas in Birmingham and even my home town has witnessed street stabbings during the last couple of months.

Political correctness bad for your health? Add to that denial too.

● BEGGARS in the south of France are much more aggressive than our home-grown variety.

Sitting near a fountain munching on a pizza, I suddenly became aware of a hand making a lunge for my lunch. I know only one French expletive and also the word for head so I combined the two to good effect.

At least Worcester beggars just sit on the pavement attached to a dog by a piece of string.

●PEERING through the hedge, I could see elderly men wearing turbans stooping low to pick a winter crop in a muddy field. It was quite plainly back-breaking work and a few were having some difficulty with their labour.

Half-a-mile further along the road, I came across a gang of youths on a footbridge, effing and blinding, pausing only to boot an empty drinks can into the hedge.

So there it was – a snapshot of Britain in the year 2008, perfectly summing up everything that has gone wrong with our society.