don't mess with the press, tony

What is everyone's problem with the media?

If it's not the bleeding heart social worker types whining on about puppies, or social inclusion, it's Alastair Campbell throwing a tantrum over us manning the barricades of truth.

The way he's been carrying on, you'd think we were the Ku Klux Klan or something. Well if I've got something to say, I don't need to do it in a pointy hat, Alastair my old son. I just get on and spit it out.

And I call a disappointed spin doctor a disappointed bloody spin doctor when I see one. Just because you can't control the independence of the Fourth Estate, there's no need to get all bitter and twisted about it. Her Majesty's Press is safe in our hands matey - and you can tell that to Tony too if you like.

And I'm not afraid of Cherie either, though I know a lot of men who are. And I'm not saying I'd like to take her home an opened stock option either.

But enough is enough, and I will steadfastly defend the honour of the media, even though some of my comancheros may well be a dodgy lot you might not trust with your girlfriend or your exclusives. But what do you expect, Ann of Green Gables?

Get real, Alastair, tabloid newspapers are about troubadours like me, fighting day and daily in a snake pit of wolves. Well, apart from the variegated metaphors, I think you know what shrub I'm barking up.

And that's why I defend the right of some of my lesser brothers in arms to completely cock it all up and get away with it.

Newspapers are a public platform for informed debate. And uninformed debate too. Otherwise we'd end up discriminating against people like my own beloved readers. Why shouldn't they have their say too, no matter how stupid?

Cab drivers do, and is Alastair Campbell even attempting to muzzle them? That's democracy, and that's life, and we in the media have to stick together when the chips are hitting the fan.

And anyway, now that the latest research shows cabbies are developing into superbrains, if I edit this rag long enough, my readership will all probably end up with IQs soaring into double figures. Makes you think. We'll probably have to make the crossword harder. And we may be able to drop the Sky tv listings altogether.

God, I hope I don't have to start running foreign news again. Have you noticed, all the pictures look the same, some dried up arid landscape with a mad mullah in a tea towel? Puts you right off your croissants in the morning, doesn't it?

And it doesn't matter a damn to any of us unless we have to go over there and blast them off our oilfields or give them a bloody nose because they're not buying enough of our arms.

Set me thinking though, the cabbie thing. What kind of brainpower must a talented young editor about town be quietly developing?

Well obviously, communication skills that are second to none, and a prescient understanding of global affairs that would scare the crap out of Buttross Buttross Gallie at the UN, and very probably his Scots brother, Phil, too. The news editor says they were separated at birth, which I can well believe in this savage country. Obviously Buttross got the better end of the deal though.

I must admit I am now looking forward to the day when the human genome programme discovers the area of the brain showing advanced leadership qualities. My secretary says I'd better watch I don't end up looking like elephant man. Cheeky bint.

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