Six years ago, I started posting opinions online, lamenting that we had strayed down the path of the post-fact/post-truth.

Nothing could have prepared me for where we find ourselves today.

Game’s gone.

A BBC newsreader, Martine Croxhall, has been sternly rebuked for correcting her teleprompter that referred to ‘pregnant people’, by adding ‘women’.

Surely, it should be some studio droid on the business end of a monumental, merciless shoeing for that shite? Unless it is now biologially for blokes to squeeze unfeasibly thin humans out through their japeyes.

The plot sickens.

Now, former footballer Joey Barton has been cuffed and convicted of sending grossly offensive messages. He posted on X that female pundit, Eni Aluko, got her job because she ‘ticks the boxes’, and again that Jeremy Vine was a ‘bike nonce’.

He didn’t even suggest that Eni had been rogered more times than a police sergeant’s radio or filled more times than his man’s kettle.

Come on, Joey – keep up at the back!

Those comments would have been more offensive than those that brought him into the dock, but even those are just examples of harmless shittalk.

As for Vine, he’s just a spineless turd. What a fucking drip.

Whatever your view, these kind of throwaway comments should just be water off a duck’s back for public figures, just as they are for the hoi palloi.

Not in today’s world, old boy. Look at all the Labour women MPs who seemingly spend more time down their local nick making statements about hurty words than they do in the House.

You see, anything that encroaches on the sense of entitlement of the liberal elite gets its balls crushed.

But there is a beacon of hope. We’ve seen Sir Mark Rowley rowing back on a lot of the abject shizzle the cops had been peddling for years.

My prediction is that the Barton verdict will be similarity canned in the vein of the Twitter bomb case.

Somebody, after, all needs to get a grip.