I have a serious problem. I am becoming very angry indeed about becoming very angry.

I confess to being irredeemably addicted. No counsellor could cope with me. I am whipped up into rages every day.

And the cause of my angst? It's the news!

Whether it is Robin Cook selling arms to Algeria as part of his ethical foreign policy, or Brighton and Hove Council being preposterous about market stalls near the West Pier, I take it all very personally indeed.

As I read the morning papers, shouting at my wife about the most outrageous stories, my blood pressure starts to rise. If I buy an early edition of the Argus, I have to buy a later one just in case I am missing anything. I listen to radio and TV bulletins, threatening the presenters with appalling retribution.

There is absolutely no question that newspapers and news programmes should be clearly labelled: "News can seriously damage your health."

In Brighton, I read that traders in St James's Street, Kemp Town, are complaining about drug addicts shooting-up in telephone boxes, people threatened with blood filled syringes and one store moving elsewhere because of shoplifters and aggressive beggars. So what do traders do?

They call in independent consultants to report back by November about what ought to be done. What silliness!

And what about the new Archbishop of Westminster, Cormac Murphy-O'Connor? He insists that when he was the Bishop of Arundel, he did not act irresponsibly by allowing a paedophile priest to continue working.

While Father Michael Hill may not have been convicted of sex offences at that time, his activities were well enough known for the bishop to withdraw his licence to work in a parish and moved him to Gatwick Airport.

The priest should have been sacked immediately. Predictably limp excuses from the Diocese of Arundel and Brighton bleated on about "in the light of advice received . . . " etc.

Not surprisingly, there are calls for the archbishop's resignation. If the Catholic church can anger me with such naivety, news from the Church of England enrages me.

At a time when the trend in public life is towards greater transparency and accountability, the General Synod meeting in York has voted to bar press and public from tribunals hearing accusations of sexual misconduct by members of the clergy.

Any stories about political correctness will provoke me, along with news about Labour spin, Blair's cronies, the Millennium Dome, artists pretending rubbish is art, the food industry creating junk for our tables, salesmen assuring us that cars are not really expensive in Britain, Government spokesmen assuring us about almost anything, Prince Charles . . . the same. The list is endless.

Just one day a week without news would help me regain my calm demeanour. Posters outside newsagents could shout: "Today's news cancelled." But, of course, there would have to be twice as much news the next day. I could not possibly afford to miss anything, could I?