It’s been a couple of months now and even the most jaded observer would have to admit it’s been fun. Bath-plugs, wide-screen LCDs, bookcases, duck-houses, wisteria/moat-clearing, biscuits, 1p phone bills, fright-wigs for charity bashes, poppies, new bathrooms, porn-videos and of course, the ‘flipping’ of houses. The public reputation of our Members of Parliament has, incredibly, sunk further than ever before.

Considering that in national polls before this scandal broke, MPs regularly occupied a lower position in our regard than even estate agents (but still above, of course, journalists), this new level of opprobrium is some achievement. Not so much bottom of the barrel but a breaking through the bottom of the barrel and tunnelling into the floor below.

However, though rage has been justifiably great and the calls for the bastards to be strung-up/electrocuted/made to appear on Celebrity Big Brother ever-louder, I’m going to add a note of caution to this.

The quiet passing of Clement Freud was a bit more poignant than I might have expected. It brought to mind a wonderful episode of a forgotten series on gambling. Following those forlorn features around as he lived out his addiction, he was asked why. His answer was so honest, so unexplained and so close to the truth that the presenters chose not to delve. Or maybe they didn't understand. I am heavily paraphrasing here because I have not seen the programme since, but he told them that the aim of his gambling was to lose all he had.

Okay so I am sure he meant metaphorically, and that he usually stopped when what was readily available had gone, but so much deep emotional significance is held there.

There are two elements to gambling addiction that I can see and most people seem to have a blend of both but one predominates and drives them on. Clement's reasoning is the least obvious but most powerful. Its all about purging. When nothing else seems to make sense to you, when life seems to lack patterns, just driving yourself to the point when you have nothing is the only sense you can make of life. It provides control, its your decision and beyond that it proves that nothing material really holds you. Why have a little forced on you when you can choose to have nothing.

The other element is simpler, possibly more common, but maybe, as its easier to portray dramatically, it seems more common. That is the the craving to turn your life round with one stroke of fortune. The lottery prays on this. Those of us with little sense of deferred gratification can be easily seduced. Of course those controlling these experiences know exactly what triggers it and how to load things heavily in their favour.

There is of course in certain aspects of gambling a casual non-addictive element. A social thrill, a shared buzz, but this side of it again is very rarely a fair gamble. It is usually an accepted part of the experience. An accepted loss as we bet on the same thing as everyone else not to be left out.

To win, and you can quite easily, all these aspects must be ignored. You have to remember the people who set the rules are not the people you are betting against but all those people who fall into the traps that we have already looked at. Desperate gambling, gambling for fun, gambling out of loyalty, gambling with a fatalistic belief in the law of averages rather than an understanding of probability. Seek these patterns out and coldly back against them and you will win. You need nerve and a way of stockpiling against the vagrancies of probability but you will win. I will explain how, maybe some other time, but not now, because despite the fact that I fall into all three of the categories of losers, I am going to pretend you are my prey and I need you not to know.