Well, mercantile marauders, it seems on closer reading of Sir Peter's Epistle to the Simians that you are exonerated, lambasted or something in between, depending on which particular set of drivel you choose to peruse from the epicentre of moronity that is Wapping. What makes the retail hacks' vapid outpourings especially rewarding is the knowledge that, unlike you, the scribblers have no understanding of the industry upon which they pontificate. Why, 'tis as if the grocers themselves should decide they were best placed to write the newspapers and trade magazines! Come to think of it... But far be it for a humble politician to dictate to the Fourth Estate in the same way that they lecture the country's quartermasters. No, life at DRIP may now resume its tranquil course - or so I thought until I checked the value of my low single-digit holding in J Sainsbury plc this morning. Now, just as my dear colleague David Sainsbury forswore his right to enjoy the Fairtrade fruits of the not-insignificant uptick in the value of the company that bears his name while he was industry minister, my current incumbency bars me from the type of sharp trading that saw the Pumsey family fortune founded across the pond in 1929. Fortunately, it did not prevent my cleaner Mrs Rolfe from placing a sizeable short-sell order on Britain's third-favourite supermarket just before the market closed on Friday. Poor Mrs Rolfe doesn't really understand the game, and just when I had done my duty to step in and take over the contract - well, fancy that - Delta Two announced it was bottling out, if that's the correct term for the strictly teetotal Qataris. Now it is only left for me to hoover up the requisite shares at a small discount of 20 percent. Such is the price of loyalty to one's staff - well, that and a nice new Electrolux Dustcruncher for the good Mrs R.