Motorcycle News carried a story the other day about police giving extra powers to civilians in order to man speed traps. It's an interesting thought. I'm all for empowering the community and cracking down on crime but I do have a few minorish concerns about the measure - primarily the Nazi-like connotations.

Herr Blair is overseeing a major transformation of our society which is passing by almost unnoticed. Normal law abiding, Radio 4 listening residents of the UK now have an unnatural hatred for their speeding countrymen invoked entirely by the Government.

Where once we were a moderate, free speaking country, we are now tight lipped and cautious about who we talk to. To own a car capable of a outpacing a lardy lollipop lady is not acceptable. No longer can you talk freely about your passion for speed or your dirty desires for throbbing sports cars.

Militarisation

'Inappropriate' images are banned in our media. The population is undergoing gradual militarisation - police now armed with laser guns, the middle classes called up to man speed traps and the Cub Scouts (that 'Hip li'l Youth Movement') will soon on be exercise with the Paras. Cameras spy on our every move and the Government proposes electronic countermeasures to control the very population that elected it.

These are scary times. Be prepared for the 'Night of the Long Drives' when the quiet suburbs will resound to the sound of fast car owners fleeing from their persecuting neighbours.

Take care out there fellow petrolheads. There's noone you can trust. My own mother has disowned me since she found a dirty Haynes manual under my bed. I'm living a lie. I tell my friends that I am cured of my addiction. They know however, that I don't dawdle down country roads eyes keeping 'em peeled Shaw Taylor style for errant pheasants or slowing down for rabbits. Don't get me wrong, I don't slaughter them for the sake of it - they're cute after all - but my addiction to speed may have incurred a few carrot-crunching casualties along the way. But to my friends and family I'm just a bunny loving criminal.

Penthouse

Every time I summon up the courage to get the sportscar out of the garage I can see the curtains twitching and hear the whispers. I walk down the street with a copy of Evo and old ladies point and call me a child killer. The staff at the petrol station won't look me in the eye if I slip a gallon of petrol in with my usual bread, milk, light bulbs, Eccles cakes and copy of Penthouse.

The propaganda is everywhere. Just like in 1939 the population has been taken in and believes every last Government statement broadcast over the Government controlled airwaves. We're now overwhelmed with erroneous 'facts' and 'statistics' that are repeated so often that everyone gives in and believes them. Noone dares to question - Those that do are shouted down as evil dissenters.

Lust

Walled Ghettos (complete with video phone entry systems of course) are emerging around the country in which Porsche owners hide, fearful that the evil evidence of automotive anarchy will betray their lust for larging it.

Pedestrians are the new elite, wandering brashly into roads to assert their authority - drivers assumed guilty until proven innocent. Harsh punishments handed out with only the rich and famous in a position to defend themselves. Yet all the time those that impose the regime flaunt it in their Ministerial cars showing hypocrisy on a par with the greatest dictatorships.

Take note. History has a habit of repeating itself. It's time to stock up on tinned food, silk stockings and Ovaltine.