Crikey, Clarkson's gone all rural . . . Once baptised in crude oil in Azerbaijan, these days Jeremy Clarkson can be found pootling around Diddly Squat Farm on his tractor, seeing to his crops, and trading in the red meat and road-rage for a much more mellow time of things. Or at least, he would be. But with everyone around him so hell-bent on stupidity, it's tough being the only man who can see sense. And Jeremy's new life has brought plenty of new frustrations to make the blood boil, including: · The potato-like qualities of mouth-breathing farmers · Why fishing is for people who hate their kids · How, thanks to Isis, Slough is beginning to look tempting · Why veg-heads insist saving the planet means soggy paper straws and no more children · And wishing severe and painful punishment on the rambler who stole his marrow Perplexed, exasperated, and pretty cheesed off this time, you can count on Clarkson to set our world to rights with thigh-slapping wit once again. Just don't expect him to be happy about having to do it . . .