So here we are, quizzing the Grand Inquisitor. His detractors like to portray Jeremy Paxman as some kind of journalistic Torquemada, because of his robust interviewing style - this is, you will recall, is the man who once asked the then Home Secretary Michael Howard the same question no fewer than 14 times.
But while it's true that the Paxman questioning technique sometimes makes you suspect that he yearns to use thumbscrews on his most recalcitrant interviewees, the man himself says that he's just trying to find the answers to what his Newsnight audiences need to know.
When he's not doing his current affairs anchorman gig on BBC2, Jeremy, who is married with three children and lives in the south of the county - "Just say 'Oxfordshire', there are enough nutters out there," - presents Start The Week on Radio 4 and stands for no nonsense from the contestants on University Challenge. He also enjoys fishing and has published five books, the latest of which is entitled The English - A Portrait Of a People. He was born in Leeds, brought up in Worcestershire and educated at Malvern College and St Catherine's, Cambridge.
The young Paxman cut his TV teeth covering The Troubles in Northern Ireland before enjoying a specialist stint of war reporting and investigative journalism.
Being English, he writes, used to be so easy. They were one of the most easily identified people on Earth, recognised by their language, their manners, their clothes and the fact that they drank large amounts of tea. But what does it mean to be English today?
This is the question he addresses in his book, which is an informative, entertaining and waspishly funny read.
Jeremy's personal list of all things English includes village cricket, punk, Elgar, DIY, brass bands, Morris Dancing, obsession with breasts, dry-stone walls, gardening and irony.
In the book, there's a highly amusing chapter where the author defines a certain type of Englishman - the sort who were clean-limbed, Boys Own heroes who believed that the English were morally superior to Johnny Foreigner in general and the beastly Hun in particular because they played games at school - especially cricket. Paxman writes that these sort of people believed God was the supreme "Good chap" and that Death itself was nothing more than "The ultimate fast bowler".
So, Jeremy - is God an Englishman, then?
"Ha, ha, ha!", he roars with laughter. "What a ridiculous question!"
I'm trying to make you feel at home, I tell him.
"Since doing the book, I've come to understand why some things are important. I'm certainly much more confident. There are people who say that this country is finished but I don't believe that to be true. We have lots of reasons to be optimistic. Am I proud to be English? Well, yeah. I'm certainly not ashamed of it," he says.
The question of national identity is throroughly explored in the book, and Paxman points out, quite correctly, that nothing infuriates the Scots more than being described as 'English' when people mean 'British'.
"Ah," he chuckles, "But you Scots are great fun to tease.
"The English, you see, unlike the Scots, have no recognisable national dress, other than the tailored man's suit, which we gave the world. But we don't need symbols."
Digressing for a moment, I ask him why he asked Howard that question 14 times. Was it because he was angry with the Tory politician? "No, not at all. I'm just driven by curiosity, that's all. When I ask a question, I want to get an answer." He's well aware though that there are those who despise his tenacious technique and regard him as nothing more than an intellectual rottweiler, or some sort of cerebral, verbal hooligan.
Not that it bothers him.
Speaking of hooligans, did he think that today's football thugs were the violent descendants of the Duke of Wellington's notorious "scum of the earth" army mentioned in his book?
"No," he says, "but did you know that when news of the battle of Culloden reached London, there was three days of rioting? My point is that these sort of people have always been with us and they always will be."
So what does it mean to English at the end of the century?
"That's not something that's easily definable," he admits. And would he ever consider a move abroad, if, say, CBS or someone offered him a top job?
"I can't imagine living anywhere else," he replies.
This is perhaps just as well. In his own unique way, Jeremy Paxman is some sort of English national treasure. Watching him verbally fillet some oily, evasive politician is like the modern version of the much-loved English sport, bear baiting.
He'll be at Waterstone's bookshop, Broad Street, Oxford, tomorrow from 12.30pm.
Buy a copy of his book and he'll happily sign it - and you won't have to ask him 14 times, either.
The English way of life
*The English spend eight-and- a- half billion pounds every year on DIY
*The National Trust has 2.5 million members
*The number of fish and chip shops in Britain has halved - to 8,500
*Eight million people watch the weather on television every evening
*The French call spanking 'Les Vice Anglaise'
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