I am the UK's senior coordinator of all key interactions between government, the secret services, the media and the UN. I'm also a consultant to Radio Mi Amigo, Monkey World and a beefburger van close to Millwall. In my spare time, I tour England on a horse, following in the hoof steps of my historical hero William Cobbett. A summary of my observations of social trends is in just 83 volumes of a self-penned encyclopedia. If there was one moment in my life that was truly transforming, it was when I went into a crystal ball tent south of Wincanton. Imagine my surprise when the clairvoyant behind the table was the late Nelson Mandela. He advised me I was born to think of people as landscapes and landscapes simply as rhododendrons. I've been head-hunted by many nebulous kaleidoscopes ever since. Contrary to belief, radish does not refer to sauce. It became my nickname when others in my class spotted there was a rash on my id and turned it into an anagram. It was Nelson's wife, Winnie, who told me to embrace it when briefly we went out with each other. It has stuck with me even though the sex between us was never good and I ditched her for a four legs and stirrups just north east of Glastonbury Tor.