WHEN the Teletubbies first arrived on our TV screens there was uproar. Complaints flooded in to the BBC and heated debates raged in the national press.

We were not remotely concerned that our hefty licence fee had been spent on creating a lush valley for rabbits to aimlessly hop about in while being chased by a vacant- looking vac that went by the name of Noo-Noo (ask a passing three-year-old if you're starting to feel old and bemused).

We couldn't care less that we were expected to immediately rush out and spend the little money we had left on dodgy tie-in merchandise.

And we weren't even slightly bothered that Tinky Winky, the purple leader of the portly pack, was camper than Christmas round at Colin and Justin's.

Oh no, we had far more important matters on our minds. We were furious, bordering on enraged, by the fact that the Teletubbies said 'e-oh' instead of 'hello' and - brace yourselves - 'pease and ta' instead of 'please and thank you'.

How on earth are our children supposed to learn to talk proper like what we does, we yelled in the general direction of the television.

As usual, of course, we had completely missed the point. If our kids' only interaction was with the Teletubbies, then we had cause to be worried, but if they were actually given the chance to talk to other human beings, like their parents for example, they may just pull through unscathed.

But missing the point and raging on about things that really don't matter is what makes Britain great.

Take the fox hunting debate. On second thoughts, don't.

I'm not overly keen on the idea of being chased through the streets of York by a pack of rabid dogs and their equally rabid owners, so I think I had better let that particular sleeping hound lie.

Another prime example, however, is our seemingly incandescent rage about what at first appeared to be a silly little advert for Kentucky Fried Chicken. I have to admit that when I saw it for the first time a week or two ago, I sniggered like a schoolgirl who had just heard her teacher say "penis" in biology class and then promptly forgot about it (not the penis, the advert - please try to keep up).

Thankfully, 1,040 other viewers were more on the ball, immediately phoning the Advertising Standards Authority to voice their disgust at its content.

If the ad had shown naked civil servants rolling about in the colonel's secret blend of herbs and spices, I'm sure I would have been on the phone too venting my spleen in a colourful assortment of what my gran calls 'language'.

But I'm afraid I'm not quite as good at completely missing the point as some. So what is it that makes this ad the UK's most complained about TV commercial - yes, even more vile than last year's Wrigley's ad in which a man coughed up a dog?

If, like me, you missed it, here it is: the call centre girls having their KFC lunch at their desks are singing with their mouths full!

Where will it all end?

If it ever comes to the point where the woman on the Baxter's soup advert uses the wrong spoon or the Oxo family slop the gravy over their spuds straight from a Pyrex mixing jug, bypassing the china gravy boat altogether, will that actually mean the end of the world as we know it?

Probably not. But, like the baseball caps and hoodie jackets everyone from Tony Blair down now appears to believe are at the heart of the problems our society faces, singing with your mouth full and saying 'ta' instead of 'please' give us something manageably inconsequential to get enraged about so we don't have to tax ourselves with the issues that really matter.

Makes you proud to be British, doesn't it?

Updated: 08:58 Monday, May 16, 2005