With each passing week, I begin to wonder if Joe Duffy is not in league with the underworld, set upon us to herald in a new dominion of Beelzebub. At the very least, I assume he in their employment as a harbinger of doom - capable of whipping the entire nation’s housewives into a frenzy with one snide, ridiculous remark.

A few months ago, I had the displeasure to listen to Joe lead his merry band of housewives on a witchhunt against Debenhams. Debenhams, you see, were demonstrating a variety of kitchen utensils instore, and lucky shoppers could even walk home with free samples. Surely Joe’s Militia Mothers couldn’t find fault in that?

But, of course, they did. A veritable sign of the rot in society, apparently. It will drive people to murder, they said. One woman actually said that being presented with a free kitchen knife would be enough for someone to go and stab another human being to death. Forgive me, but I’m not sure that mentally-fragile sociopaths are hanging around Debenhams in the early afternoon looking at demonstrations of salad servers and garlic presses.

More recently, a woman rang up Joe, screaming PAEDOPHILE. While going about her daily business, she saw a man get out of particular type of car and have an altercation with a little darling boy whilst stopped at a particular junction at a specific time. The Liveline sprang to life, and this man was all but sentenced to life in solitude for his disgusting sexual perversions, when, miraculously, the accused could give his side of the story. It turns out that he wasn’t some reprehensible sex creep, but rather an upstanding member of the community who was attempting to discipline the little darling - who turned out not to be a little darling at all, but a vandal thug who had just trashed the man’s property. No harm done, unless the man’s boss, or friends, or family had been listening to the opening act of this story, and took these wild, unfounded accusations on board. So be careful what you do in public, Joe has eyes everywhere, and if you’re seen doing something innocent that can be twisted into a good story, it will make national radio.

And only last week, I turned on the radio as the frenzy was in full flow. “Joe, it’s an absolute disgrace that I’ve to travel to Dublin to do it!” said a zealot from Sligo. Initially, I empathized, figuring that he was a man awaiting cancer treatment or a personality transplant. Not so.

The disgruntled man, and his many supporters, were lambasting the fact that he had to go all the way up to the big smoke in order to collect his lotto winnings. What a bloody inconvenience, eh?

I’m often tempted to ring up Liveline to complain about the blight on human society that is Joe Duffy and Liveline. My hand is stayed however, because no will is strong enough to whitstand the Militant Mothers and General Joe if they’re on your case.