FANCY a bit of pornography - no, come to think of it, a whole load and cesspit of it? I'm not talking about such as you can get in the sleazy top shelf magazines or the glossy filth done up as "investigative documentaries" to be found on Channels 4 and 5, late night. Not to beat about the bush, I mean would you like to see huge moving pictures of an actress made out to resemble the late Princess Diana crossing and uncrossing her legs and generally squirming lubriciously like Sharon Stone in the film Basic Instinct? How depraved are you actually prepared to become? Maybe you'd like to see footage of a gigantic wax penis melting? Or a series of snapshots of men and women using the lavatory?

All these things you will soon be able to see on an enormous outside cinema screen in Leicester Square. How do they get away with it? How can anyone begin to justify this gratuitous foisting of filth and corruption on to an unsuspecting public? Easy. In today's dumbed down culture of trash and glitz, all you have to say is that these decadent and depraved images are the work of "leading contemporary British artists and designers". Leading what, for heaven's sake? Leading the corruption of public taste and the poisoning of the minds of the rising generation of children.

The organiser of this project is called Alexander de Cadenet who commented recently on the lavatory scenes: "This piece is about a particular moment in time, following one particular situation that is a very private moment. It's interesting to make public the very, very private and this is as much a public statement as you could possibly get." No, it's not interesting: it's invasive, prurient and discourteous.

Freudian slip of the week was Gordon Brown's as he announced his giveaway billions in the Commons and began by saying the whole package was "underspinned". Of course it is. There's nothing to it but smoke and mirrors. The spun lies are most clearly to be seen in John Prescott's £180bn to renew the transport system. You were meant to think that this was an announcement of £180bn of money today, in the here and now. It is nothing of the kind. When you read the small print, it turns out that the figure is a calculation, allowing for compound inflation, of what might be spent on transport by the year 2010. Moreover, Prescott himself said that he expected £56bn of this to come, not from Government coffers, but from the private sector. The whole thing is just the latest in an endless series of swindles and deceitful bribes by the worst government since the war.

Did you hear Sue Lawley giving Michael Portillo a hard time on Desert Island Discs? She asked him if, having admitted homosexual relationships during his youth, he did not consider himself a hypocrite for opposing the move to allow homosexuals into the armed forces. Apart from the fact that Portillo has long since given up these youthful liaisons, why should wanting to disallow the presence of homosexuals in the army's front line make him a hypocrite? It's like calling a man who drinks eight pints of beer a day a hypocrite because he would rather brain surgeons did not follow his example.

It's all in the difference between the public and private realms which today's "in yer face" culture has obliterated: once homosexuality was generously allowed between consenting adults in private; now it has become a sordid circus and a compulsory parade of one's private sexual proclivities in public. Didn't there used to be a prohibition against washing dirty linen in public?