There was a legendary columnist on the Daily Mirror, Sir William Connor, who was far better known by his pen name of Cassandra. He was on the Mirror in the 1930s and then went off to war for his country. When he returned six years later, he famously began his column with the words: "As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted...".

I tend to feel a bit like Cassandra, not having contributed a single word to my blog since May this year, due largely to problems with this website. Now I am back and have been prevailed upon to resume my trenchant comments.

I return to find that since I've been away, nothing has changed. Well, actually, no - I find the world has become just a little bit madder.

We are in global financial crisis and economic meltdown, there's yet more turmoil, murder and starvation in Africa and Afghanistan, America has just elected its first black President, Lewis Hamilton gained a world title by managing to finish fifth in a race he never made the slightest attempt to win and Paula Radcliffe walked away with the New York Marathon - again.

And what are those idiot ministers and bureaucrats in Whitehall wasting their time on? Introducing new laws to threaten pet owners with massive fines of up to £20,000 for letting their cats and dogs get fat. Utterly, utterly beyond belief! Wouldn't you think these mad obergruppen fuhrers of the nanny state could find better things to do with their time and our money? When, oh when, will they stop treating everyone as cretins and potential criminals?

Oh, yes, I almost forgot. There's a barmy Muslim who works as a catering manager at Scotland Yard and is sueing the Met Police for telling him he has to cook bacon, sausages and black puddings, so that hungry coppers can enjoy a decent fry-up before they go out on the beat - well, if, indeed, any of them do actually go out on the beat these days.

Just like those Muslims who refuse to handle alcohol in shops and supermarkets, this hypersensitive prat should be told that if he objects to cooking certain foods, then he shouldn't have applied for the job. Surely there’s an Indian or veggie restaurant somewhere that would take him on, washing the spoons.

The list of things that Muslims claim their religion doesn't permit them to do must be long enough to travel several times round the inside of a Mosque and out through the back door. And they wonder why the rest of us are sick of their constant whining and demands for special treatment.