At first sight, the subject matter looks less than enthralling. It's all about a tractor (or other motorised farming implement) not being able to squeeze down an English country lane because of parked cars. To see how this particular driver ingeniously solved his (or her) access problem, look here.
That tractor thread has veered away from the initial 'who did what to whom' banter into an agricultural discussion on the effects of massive tyres on soft ground and the hidden dangers of soil compaction. In all the ooh-arr shouting, one key point seems to have been missed. Which is that the biggest threat posed by excessive girth on the roads is not coming from hulking great combine harvesters. It's coming from ordinary cars.
And the space between cars is getting smaller all the time. Between 1974 and 2014, the average width of a car increased by 16 per cent. In the exciting new Trumpian era of bigliness, percentage increases of less than a thousand are generally considered to be not worth looking at, but 16 per cent in this context is a lot.
An unchecked increase in car width that isn't being matched by a similar increase in the width of roads, access points and parking spaces will, at some point, present a problem. The first 1959 Mini was less than 1.4 metres wide and the first 1974 Golf had a breadth of just over 1.6 metres - today's Golf is over 2 metres.
The only major organisation that seems to have recognised this lurking width menace is not, as you might hope, the government, but Lego. They increased the width of their road plate sections in the earlier part of this decade - but even they seem to be disowning the problem now, having largely phased out their road plates altogether.
There's been a big increase in parking damage over the last couple of decades too. Two-thirds of British motorists have experienced some kind of damage to their vehicles after parking in a car park, with nearly half of that happening in supermarket car parks, and around a third of it is caused by carelessly-opened doors. Some of those incidents will be down to sudden gusts of wind, obviously, but the ever-reducing clearance between cars isn't helping.
(By the way, a non-fault claim on 'supermarket damage' can result in a hike in your own premium because insurers like Admiral reckon, incredibly, that 'customers who have a non-fault accident often go on to have a fault one within a relatively short time', citing 'a higher than average exposure to everyday driving risks' as the rationale, without so much as a hint of a grin.)
So, how can we tackle the effects of this embiggening process, given that the car manufacturers are only going to go one way until they're told to stop, by which time it will be too late? Can we at least mitigate the crash/scrape-damage implications of ongoing sexy girth?
It seems odd that no manufacturer has brought in old-fashioned radar detectors with a Goldfinger DB5-type screen display to show oncoming vehicles approaching on high-hedgerowed country lanes. For parking and exiting ease, manufacturers could bring back sliding doors. Unfortunately, nobody really likes sliding doors on passenger cars because they're electric and break down a lot, they mean you've got to have an ugly slot carved into the side of your car and who wants that, or they might let your kids fall out of the side (pick any one).
How about other vehicle-entry solutions like Tesla's double-hinged 'falcon' doors? Nope. Even Elon Musk has said he'll never try anything like that again, and he's building space rockets in his spare time.
The trouble is, as a species we're getting bigger - and not just us high-fat, high-carb Western folks either. The average height of a South Korean woman has increased from 4ft 8in in 1896 to 5ft 4in in 1996. That's a bigly percentage. So, not only do we want bigger cars, it seems that we actually need them, yet at the same time we don't have the time or space for a desperate road-widening programme. Luckily, there is no plan for one, but in lieu of such a measure, where does the answer to our dearth of driving space lie?