I’ve got to admit that I almost feel sorry for Andrew Bolt. Watching Gordon Ramsay on television a few weeks ago he fell in love. There was something about Gordon Ramsay — a man’s man with conservative values and masculine pride — that made Bolta’s heart beat a little faster.

I like particularly the standards Ramsay upholds and which drive him to fury when transgressed.

Ramsay, you see, thinks hard work honours man. Slackers drive him spare: “You might as well just f… off.”

He thinks if a job is to be done, it’s best done well. Sloppiness is an insult to a worker’s dignity. A moral crime.

He thinks if you’re taking a man’s wage, you owe him a day’s labour. Those who bludge on their boss are called “cheats” and the worst, like the manager of Dillons, are out the door.

He thinks reason beats irrational sentiment. If orange paintings of what seems global warming turn off customers, then too bad if the owner loves them to sentimental tears; they must go to save the restaurant.

He thinks some authority is better than none when you want things run well. Three managers in one chaotic restaurant get pared to one, despite the tears, because collectives and group fuzzies just don’t work.

Yet he also believes in loyalty and teams - the little platoons of society that are the bedrock of a community.

But just like a lot of desperate crushes this love was not to be. Imagine Andy’s feeling of rejection when he discovered that Ramsay wasn’t quite the man he believed him to be (with a bit of groupthink thrown in for good measure.)

My faith in Gordon Ramsay’s good sense has been shaken. Tim Blair exposes another eco-hypocrite - a global warming prophet in a Ferrari, and with a disturbing taste for banning other people’s little pleasures.

Having your heart broken is no joke. My thoughts are with you, Andrew.