Emissions/Kilian Doyle: The screw turns. Time appears to be up for the estimated 80,000 criminals who parade around the country's roads, uninsured and uncaring, stealing from the pockets and peace of mind of the rest of us.
A delectable combination of direct threats from the Government and the indirect, lingering fear of being ratted on by your nearest and dearest is putting the proverbial wind up those who drive uninsured or lodge dodgy insurance claims.
I, for one, am chuffed.
Aul' Mr Brennan announced two weeks ago those caught driving without insurance will notch up a hefty five penalty points on top of fines. Admittedly, a large proportion of those without insurance are probably licence-free too. Putting five points on a licence that doesn't exist is going to prove pretty difficult. (Not that it'll stop our Government from trying, mind.)
Never one to do things by half, I propose implanting silicon chips in the brains of those caught driving with neither permit nor cover as the ultimate deterrent. Once these miscreants put the key in the ignition of anything from a moped to a McLaren, the chip will send electrical messages pulsing through their "medulla oblongata", convincing them they are actually three-month old babies, utterly incapable of doing anything but gurgling and soiling themselves. Repeatedly. That'll learn 'em.
As for those who steadfastly refuse to wear seatbelts, and face two points from now on, their idiocy knows no bounds.
Surely belting up ranks alongside looking right and left before crossing the road, not eating things you find on the floor of a bus and never trusting politicians, in terms of basic survival skills?
They should be forced to watch 10 hours of gory car crash videos, Clockwork Orange-style with eyes prised open. They'll be wearing seatbelts on the toilet after that.
The Irish Insurance Federation also announced with great fanfare last week that its confidential phoneline had received over 500 calls, of which two-thirds were from people dobbing in insurance fraudsters. These calls came from "relatives and friends, neighbours, customers, employers and ex-employers, employees and work colleagues", the IIF said. The idea of hundreds of voices whispering down secret phone lines sounds like some Stalinist nightmare or scene from George Orwell's 1984, but I ain't knocking it if it works.
Now that grassing on insurance fraudsters has finally become an acceptable thing to do, can we start ratting on other vehicular ne'er-do-wells? My vindictive streak is fairly humming at the prospect.
So, a word of warning to all you clowns who zip along bus lanes, flagrantly cruise through red lights and pull U-turns in the middle of the street, all secure in the knowledge that nobody's watching - I have news for you. They are now. I've got a new hobby. (And no, I don't have anything better to do.)
I'll be patrolling Dublin city centre notebook in hand, jotting down the registrations of idiots who swing, one-handed, through busy intersections with their mobile phones glued to the sides of their heads, nattering inanely as they plough into pedestrians with impunity (What are they all talking about that is so bloody important it merits putting the lives and property of everyone they come across at risk? The self-importance of these muppets boils my blood).
I'm even considering knocking together a fetching little satin number (underpants on the outside) with matching cape and mask, which I'll don while merrily snitching on every eejit who thinks the mere fact of paying road tax, buying a taxi licence or driving a ministerial car entitles them to do as they please. Hey, it's my moral duty, pummellings from irate road warriors bedamned.
Anyone interested in joining my campaign of vehicular vigilantism is perfectly welcome. The more the merrier. The gardaí will be so fed up after six months of our sanctimonious pestering and endless lists of misdemeanours that they might even start doing the job themselves.