A small backlog of letters has accumulated, and we will deal with them now, while they're fresh in my inbox.

The first subject that drew readers' attention was last week's rant about tax bullies, in which I attempted to even-handedly dismiss as fascists the Governments of Bermuda, the US, most of the European countries and Australia.

Two readers approved. "Very good article. More please and get it published in the UK," wrote, or perhaps texted, the chairman of a giant Bermuda enterprise. Another reader said: "Your column was smack on the mark. For too long, the bullies have issued misleading statements about Bermuda and other low tax jurisdictions."

Watching me bite all the hands that feed me, however, wasn't enough for one reader.

"So you have become the 'voice of Bermuda'!" this fellow wrote. "I haven't heard so much propaganda spouted by anyone outside of government for a long time! Where is the old Roger, willing to say it as it is, not how people want to hear it?"

He continued: "The only real criticism is the fact that you stated that the report in question was five years old, without commenting on the scandals of the last five years. Can you tell me what Bermuda has done to solve the problems in that five years? You must have read all the scandals involving Bermuda companies. In the last five years, the chickens have come home to roost."

The reader concluded: "Bermuda will not lose its tax advantage if it cleans up its act. It may mean a lot fewer companies and a few less Bermuda lawyers, but the business will keep coming."

It's not the done thing in editorial circles to respond to letters, probably because then it becomes a correspondence and the reader then stalks you, and it all goes sour one dark night as you're leaving a restaurant and, out of nowhere, the reader comes at you with a hacksaw. But I must say a couple of things:

1. I could hardly be described as "the voice of Bermuda", after insulting my hosts as I did. Last week's column was more like the voice of distemper.

2. I am the old Roger, believe me, the oldest Roger yet.

3. I don't think Bermuda needs defending in this area. If you think about the dollar volume that passes through here in a given year, and the determination of bad guys to abuse the system, whatever "scandals" Bermuda has suffered are chicken feed, certainly in comparison to what has been going on in Russia and just about any other major jurisdiction you care to name.

Bermuda has been building its Monetary Authority diligently and with all the speed such a process dare achieve. It has good people all through it, and it is the opinion of almost everyone that I talk to that the BMA does a good job. It is learning how to do a better job, and now sits at the top table of regulators world-wide. If, occasionally, it is fooled by, let's say, a Minister of Telecommunications or some other thug, well, no one's perfect.

Oops. Now I've entered into a correspondence. I'll have to eat at home from now on.

The other subject that was referred to by a reader, albeit inadvertently, related to why my e-mails aren't being delivered.

I must explain to you in advance that this letter is from a close friend in London, and is therefore written in a style that might seem curious. My pal often signs his letters "Your humble savant", or "Yours in the utmost confidence trick", or some such. His message is powerful, though.

"Crombie, you swine," my friend opened. "In the past six weeks, I have had my computer debugged, defragged and de- and then re-commissioned, trying to find out why all your e-mails go straight to my spambox. Although so much of what you write belongs in the trash, I should be the one making the decisions around here. After all, I paid for the computer, with money borrowed from the Nasty Wet Bank.

"Because of the problem of your disappearing mail, I spent four straight weeks on the phone to some fellow in India, setting filters and unsetting them, tweaking this and toggling that.

"We could not diagnose the problem. I almost bought a new computer. And then one day last week, you went to New York City. From there, you e-mailed me an especially offensive message about how much money I owe you, which you know I shan't be paying because you made it up. The New York e-mail went directly into my inbox, as have the three subsequent e-mails you sent from the Big Apple.

"So! I have wasted some of the precious few days that remain to me tracking down a fault at my end, when the fault is entirely yours! How do you sleep at night?"

The letter concluded: "For old time's sake, I called my man in India to explain that the problem was solved, albeit temporarily, so that he could strike me off his to-do list. His final verdict was that 'Bermuda must be no bloody good'."