Most of us have spent the last few months shivering our way through the coldest winter in years. In Britain and much of Europe it has been the coldest for forty years, whilst, as I write, America is experiencing the heaviest snowfall in over ninety years.

Yet, despite the weather, we have no option but to carry on. Day after day we struggle to work on icy roads and in gridlocked traffic jams, or we stand on freezing railway stations waiting for trains so packed that, when travelling in then, we have no option other than to share intimate bodily contact with total strangers, grateful only for the few months respite from the sweltering heat which will make the carriages even less bearable in that humid sticky time called summer.

At the end of our journey, we will spend eight, nine, ten or even more working in a job we dislike at a wage we know is far below what we are worth, but which we must cling to because there is no alternative.

The endless day complete, we struggle home again through the same gridlocked traffic and in the same crowded carriages, maybe stopping en route to queue in overcrowded supermarkets and pay surly third world shop assistants for overpriced food, which we take home and eat in front of the propaganda which now passes for television entertainment.

Meanwhile, our media regales us with the joys of diversity and how lucky we are to live in this overcrowded, crime ridden, polluted and bankrupt multicultural hell hole. Then we go to bed and dream of something better before we have to start another day,

It is not like this for everyone though, as we stand shivering on West Ruislip station waiting for the next humanity crammed sardine can mascaraing as a railway carriage, others are sunning themselves on multi-million pound yachts, moored in Caribbean lagoons, off Pacific islands or close to the snow white sands of Indian Ocean beaches.