Your Lord recently finished reading the first volume of Robert Graves’ Claudius books entitled I, Claudius, which tells the story of the downward slide into corruption and debauchery of the Caesars in ancient Rome. Claudius, a Roman nobleman - whose full name was Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus - narrates the story and describes how, born lame and suffering from a stammer and violent, uncontrollable, twitch of the head, survived assassination because he was deemed as being of little threat to the more ambitious around him and consequently not worthy of a dagger in his back.

I, Claudius, is such a splendid book that Lady Piggott and I decided to treat ourselves to the box set of the 1970s’ television adaptation starring Derek Jacobi, and spent a happy Saturday evening watching stabbings, poisonings, torture, incest and orgies - all from the comfort of our armchairs.

As we retired to bed that night, Lady P. and I both agreed that the human race has not changed much since Roman times.

People are still killing each other over power, territory and riches, both abroad and at home; the ‘grown-ups’ are overseas fighting for control of countries rich in oil whilst the ‘children’ are battling over drugs and postcodes.

Orgies are still taking place but are now known as swinging or dogging and the sexual abuse of children can be read about in the papers and heard about on the news daily.

Serial killers, who enjoy torturing their victims before slaughtering them (and sometimes eating them afterwards, accompanied by a good red wine) pop up occasionally in the media and the public lap up every gory detail with relish.

Your Lord has often called for modern-day gladiatorial games where convicted criminals could be used to entertain the public by fighting each other in the arena. The human being’s taste for blood has not diminished over time and if amphitheatres were built all over the country they would be packed every single night of the week.

The human being is, after all, an animal. It is an animal that has tried to tame itself and has, on the whole, managed this relatively well, though the animal instinct is always waiting for an excuse to show itself.

Why else do we like to watch dangerous sports like boxing? We watch because we want to see blood and are not satisfied until one of the boxers hits the canvas unconscious, his face bloody and bruised, his body and mind beaten.

There will always be winners and losers, nature itself depends upon it in order for the strongest to survive. The strongest go onto greater things whilst the weakest fall by the wayside, having been given the ‘thumbs down’ by society.

Just as in Roman times, today’s strong are the ones with the most money and power. The less fortunate in society, such as the old and disabled, are the weak, the scrapings off the arena floor – the peasants.

There are still more peasants than Caesars in this world and the human race is not half as civilised as it likes to think it is, so bring on the gladiators I say, let’s see some blood and guts in the sand and a few deserving heads roll!

I wager that even those who consider themselves rather more ‘civilised’ than others would find their animal instincts getting the upper hand at the prospect of gladatorial games, inducing them in an instant to queue for season tickets, bay for blood and call for death with their thumbs turned firmly down.

Your Lord, Erastus Theobald Piggott

PS: If you are by any chance wondering what happened to Claudius, he became Emperor of Rome, so there is hope for us all.