I was in Waitrose yesterday evening, quietly trying to jam ten too many olives into one of those plastic tub things, thinking about food and generally at one with the world. In short, almost a cariacature of a peaceful, placid laid back Englishman, feeling a bit shabby after an early start to the day and an afternoon working in the sun, minding my own business and even a bit subdued. Then some England football shirted knob decided to let loose with one of those Vuvuzela trumpet things, and the effect was startling. A woosh of adrenaline, the hot flush, slightly shaky hands, a tremble in the legs, tunnelling of vision, heart rate pumping - an instant killing rage. The sound is so loud, so aggressive and so PIG ignorant it just presses the big red button like nothing else I have ever experienced. I didn't beat him to death with it, he only did it twice, the lad himself was just an over-excited student type and one of the staff turfed him out. If it had been an air-horn the incident would just have been, possibly, a bit annoying, but not worthy of comment. But I warn you, these Vuvuzela things with the noise they make and the reaction they trigger are something else. To illustrate the thing's potential for enraging people, when I got to the check-out I smiled at the 'woman of a certain age and background' that typically work there and said:'I've an idea where he could put that trumpet.' 'Yes' she replied with a sort of mad vehemence 'straight up his arrse'. The Chavs have their orchestra and I predict nothing but trouble.