I wish to protest most strongly about everything: Henry Root, the splendid, splenetic creation of eccentric lush and journo William Donaldson (1935-2005), is a self-made, spittle-flecked oddball who writes brazen and demented letters to the famous, powerful and rich. Supposedly a wet fish merchant from Fulham, he is an avatar for a lot of the to-the-right-of-Attila-the-Hun, Thatcher-supporting, mildly racist, entitled, liberal-baiting mansplaining that was de rigeur and absolutely unchallenged in the Spectator/Private Eye yachts and casinos circles that Donaldson frequented. (For a reminder of the flavour of the times, see Private Eye's disgusting homophobia under conceited old plop Richard Ingrams - the least of which is a regular cartoon called The Gays by Michael Heath, which at least had the virtue of being occasionally funny.)

Donaldson's ghastly creation wrote outrageous, threatening, scurrilous and outlandish letters to public figures, praising, insulting or attempting to bribe them. His heroes were few, but those who were, to Root's mind, "sound" - principally Mrs Thatcher, the Dowager Lady Birdwood and James Anderton, "God's Cop", the self-appointed guardian of Greater Manchester's morals.

Time has not been kind to Root. Not only have so many of the people approached here faded from the memory that one can't quite remember why they were laughable, but some of the attitudes verge on bullying and prejudice in a way that's now well beyond the bounds of acceptability by today's mores.

When he hits a target full on, or when the target responds with good grace or a sense of humour, it's hilarious, however. Kenneth Kendall, the elegant and generous newsreader who later went on to host Treasure Hunt following Anneka Rice's arse round Great Britain, answered Root's impertinent enquiry about his dental health with wit and elegance, returning the preferred pound note with the answer that his dentist should supply the Polygrip at his own expense, and supplying an autographed photo for Mrs Root. Esther Rantzen doesn't come out quite so well - there's a disagreement about whether the BBC should pay Root for some unusable script material, and Rantzen sends the same response to two different letters - the first from Root praising the show, the second, again thanking him and saying how much they appreciate viewer contributions is in response to his missive which says simply, "Dear Esther, You're a fat idiot and your show's a disgrace." (Angela Rippon, by contrast, comes out of this rather well.)

If further recommendation be needed, then surely there is none finer than Glenda Slagg/Linda Lee Potter: "About as funny as pushing somebody fully clothed into a swimming pool."

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