which was published on February 20. In fact, we have had more comment and more calls in response to that editorial than any other in recent memory.

Basically our editorial was about people who use the "we are victims'' excuse for their anti-social behaviour. Some of this comes about because we have created a society in which it is both fashionable and acceptable to be a victim of this or that or any old thing. People thus think that they can do as they please as long as they can put the blame anywhere but on themselves.

Their stance as a victim often results in both sympathy and help from a basically caring society.

This creates a problem for people who really are in need of help. So much time is spent trying to deal with moaners that there is little time left to properly help those with genuine needs.

It has been clear for some time in Bermuda that people who use these excuses often take their lead from politicians. Politicians think that they survive in the public eye by blaming everyone but themselves or their political party.

A classic example of this would be MP Renee Webb's cry of "race'' this week in an attempt to excuse the Progressive Labour Party's extremely damaging failure to help Bermuda in its war on drugs. The PLP Parliamentarians, of course, have yet to learn the difference between obstruction and opposition.

The reader who liked our editorial sent us the lyrics from a song by The Eagles titled "Get Over It''. Some of the lyrics are very pertinent in that they seem to single out television where the agony shows specialise in paid victims as entertainment.

"I turn on the tube and what do I see: A whole lotta people cryin' "Don't blame me'' They point their crooked little fingers at everybody else Spend all their time feelin' sorry for themselves Victim of this, victim of that Your momma's too thin, your daddy's too fat Get over it Get over it All this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fit Get over it, get over it It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak You're makin' the most of your losin' streak Some call, it sick, but I call it weak You drag it around like a ball and chain You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain You wave it like flag, you wear it like a crown Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down Complain about the present and blame it on the past.