ALONE in the world I worry about the decline of civilisation. In recent influential and arguably explosive columns, I adduced the ned as one horseman of the apocalypse.

I have a small cavalry of others. After the decline of John Lewis (and I’m on record many years ago identifying this as the beginning of the end), now Markies has announced it too is about to start closing stores willy and, if needs must, nilly.

That Waitrose is in trouble might once have been thought to herald a socialist society, but nobody believes in that now, and we’ve run out of other ideas. All we have is post-religious, politically correct piety. Piety without purpose.

And here’s something else we might soon be without: power. I don’t mean in the Truss sense. I mean the leccy. We’ve been told to prepare for blackouts between 4pm and 7pm this winter.

I’m all for candle-light, but as choice not necessity. For younger people, the computer screen will be their only source of heat. Even trousers tapered at the ankles will not stop their legs getting cold. The snowflakes will freeze, along with the rest of us, in a great egalitarian chill.

Much of the blame for the energy crisis lies with yon Putin, who could put an end to everything once and for all in a nuclear conflagration. (And I’m genuinely afeared that he might start in the several days between my time of writing and publication).

Russians: what are they about? They bomb the hell out of kids, torture, rape and massacre and, as soon as the Ukrainians hit back on their soil, it’s: “How very dare you?” And, as usual, I seem the only one who finds this bizarre. It’s a war in which only one side is allowed to attack. Nuts.

But nuts is what you Earthlings are. And algae might be what you’ll soon be eating. Scientists in Seattle say that, in order to save the planet, you must shift away from meat pies and sausages, and start eating algae burgers because the soggy plantlife is protein-rich and environmentally sustainable.

You’re also going to have to start eating insects and, already, experiments are being held in which the beasties are fed to schoolkids, which is fair enough.

But this is a grim vision of the future. No Markies, no John Lewis, no leccy, algae surprise for tea, followed by sticky earwig pudding, and nukes in the hands of various nutters, not just Putin but Kim Jong-loon and sundry medievalists in the Middle East.

There is a way out of this. We must emigrate: to other planets. Not you, neds, but an elite based on basic knowledge of Latin, a fine collection of prog rock on vinyl, Hibs season ticket, and sensible trousers that don’t bunch at the knee.

Already, space pioneer Elon Musk has mapped out a life on Mars, where we could easily open a Markies and a John Lewis, and live happily on powdered pies and sausages until we can grow proper ones in the fields.

Musk must have help with this. Send him any money you might otherwise have spent at Markies or John Lewis to him today. And pray we’ll be on the spaceships before some eejit starts head-butting the red button.

Corden off

I AM agitated. And the cause is Mr James Corden. As you’d expect of a man in my position, I’ve never seen Mr Corden’s television shows. I’m sure they’re quite good. Unlike his manners.

He’s been in the papers this week for incivility to waiters in yonder New York. On the first occasion, there was a hair in his food, an unhappy happenstance at which one might legitimately take umbrage in a quiet if firm voice. The Corden, alas, was rather noisier.

In the second instance, his wife’s egg-yolk omelette had some white in it, so he sent it back. But the substituted dish had chips instead of salad, prompting his nibs to blow a gasket.

As I’m a stickler for good manners, you wouldn’t expect me to take his side in this imbroglio, and the man certainly sounds a pompous, entitled ass.

But what troubles me is the perception that only customers are rude. Of course, it’s indefensible that folk are reportedly rude to NHS staff, for example. But what about when it’s the other way?

Over the years, I’d say up to a tenth, well a twentieth, of NHS staff I’ve encountered have been rude, brusque or ignorant. True, it’s been many years now, but some incidents still enrage me today.

Same with shops. Worst instances in my history (again many years ago): John Lewis, Edinburgh; Ikea, Edinburgh-ish. As for waiters, I’ve never complained, even where they’ve been supercilious or slow, but I’ve been out with folk who remonstrated relentlessly. Other diners whispered nervously that the complainants’ repasts were sure to feature non-chemical additives as a result.

All I’m saying is there are two sides to rudeness. If on the receiving end, you should remonstrate quietly but firmly. Or do as I do: nothing. Then just go home and smash up your own house in a rage.

Good manners cost a bit less

The decline of civilisation is accompanied by a decline in manners. One cafe owner, in Preston, Lancashire, is at least trying to stop the rot. Usman Hussain charges customers who say “please” and “thank you” less than he charges those who do not. Please keep it up, old boy. And thanks.

Baitrose

Troubled bourgeois supermarket Waitrose is bringing back free coffee, after scrapping the perk two years ago. It also scrapped free newspapers. Middle-class traitors have been deserting the “upmarket” store for Aldi and Lidl. Freebies are seen as the only bait to bring them back. Welfare-dependent they may not be, but Waitrose-dependent some undoubtedly are.

Rich brothers

Average pay for the top 30 public sector union leaders is more than £150,000, with the general secretary of the National Association of Head Teachers heading the list on £222,094. That’s nearly 60 grand more than the Prime Minister. All these people should be imprisoned on the first day of socialism or by Christmas, whichever comes first.

Love letters

Lurve is a matter of serendipity, so the idea of dating apps is peculiar and somehow rather cold. However, they have the advantage of revealing whether someone can spell or write. Turns out potential partners are rejecting those with sloppy grammar, poor spelling, and a tendency to say “LOL”. Two witch wee cann onlie say: LOL.

Look at us

Gogglebox is a TV show popular with the masses. According to my researchers, it shows British people watching and commenting on TV programmes. I see. Now, US embassy staff have been advised to watch the Channel 4 show to understand what British people are really like. Scary thought. Oh, to see ourselves as we ourselves see us.

Our columns are a platform for writers to express their opinions. They do not necessarily represent the views of The Herald.