CAN anyone explain our seemingly insatiable appetite for death and destruction?

The real-life' documentary has somehow become a cornerstone of our viewing habits.

Not a day goes by, it would seem, without a trauma of some kind or other being broadcast in all its gory detail into our living rooms.

Last night we had the appropriately named Trauma on BBC1 - a fly-on-the wall study of the work of a busy A&E department.

No-one doubts the fantastic work the staff in such units do day in, day out.

But is it really entertaining to watch the walking wounded who frequent the nation's casualty departments staggering about with blood dripping from a gaping wound?

Whatever happened to the idea that TV could provide us with wholesome, escapist entertainment?

Sometimes life is depressing enough, what with terror threats, rising fuel prices - and the fact that Love Island is still going.

So we don't particularly need to be further depressed by scenes which would do cult horror director George Romero proud.

And, let's not forget that many of these programmes are being broadcast before the appointed watershed.

Clearly, what was considered to be unsuitable for younger viewers' has changed since I were a lad - but then the programmes are in colour now - and Dick and Dom are considered great viewing for kids rather than setting a dreadful example.

But surely there has to be some kind of regulation.

It's enough to give you nightmares!