cameras get a lot of criticism. Invariably from people who
have been caught by them. That is, people who have broken
the law. It is peculiar that these dangerous miscreants
seem to have some sympathy. Or, at least, that their complaints
(about being caught breaking the law) are not met with the
righteous disdain we would give to, say, fraudsters and
burglars if they started whining.
These moaning fools seem to be a vocal and healthy constituency,
one whose antipathy to road safety is somewhat tolerated
when it should be simply dismissed.
"Speed cameras are just a way of making money",
goes the speeders' refrain. Well, no, they are primarily
a safety device. And if they also make money, they are a
damn good way of making money. They take from the pockets
of roaring halfwits who scare the daylights out of the rest
of us, charging up and down the roads like maniacs late
for the Maniac Convention.
a notion, you self-serving clowns: instead of breaking the
law, terrifying road users and whining about it when you
get caught, just start your journey fifteen minutes earlier.
A simple idea is often the best.
It puzzles me anyway why cars are designed with the ability
to go at 160 mph when the only places that allow that kind
of speed are German motorways and the Salt Lake Flats of
Utah. It is highly unusual for any average British driver
to set out on a Sunday afternoon to visit their sister in
Kilsyth, take a wrong turn and end up on an autobahn heading
I'd have more speed cameras. I'd have them armed. I'd have
them fly above the roads, like UAVs.
I'm told that I drive like an old woman. I take it as a