lTHERE is a lot of pretentious, self-righteous twaddle talked about the behaviour of modern politicians. It seems that only those who have led a blameless, monastic existence can ever hope to be considered for high public office.

Over the last few years, so many heads have rolled that Henry VIII's reign looks positively benign by comparison. It is one of life's ironies that although the average nobody expects to act and talk exactly how he or she wishes, such indulgences do not extend to those who enter public life.

Britain is awash with foul-mouthed yobs, absentee fathers, child and animal abusers perpetrating any number of mindless cruelties at any time of the day or night. Yet those who represent us must somehow be tucked up at nine with a cup of cocoa and only permitted five minutes reading Wind In The Willows before lights out.

It is said politicians are false, yet it is we who are the hypocrites. Is it any wonder that a society obsessed with self-gratification produces a few representatives with the same predelictions?