The Gulf Oil Spill is going from bad to worse. It's catastrophic. I'm reading experts in the field saying this is the worst environmental disaster in living history.

See for yourself. 12 Live Camera feeds of the oil/gas billowing out.

http://www.sanaracreations.fi/rov-feeds/index.html

Age does not weary them?

It seems like the road toll is increasing disproportionately to the increase in drivers. I guess it could be a media beatup – but ultimately, that’s not my point.

Any road trauma is a problem.

I’ve been hearing lots of arguments about how to lower the incidence of these events – but many are expensive and others will be ineffectual.

I agree our roads suck. I agree that "traffic calming" devices actually have the opposite effect on many types of drivers. I agree that speed limiting vehicles is dangerous in and of itself – and pointless – 90km/h is still too fast in a school zone.

So what other options are there?

Initially I thought using a GPS with GPRS feeding data back to a central computer would be useful. Not *that* expensive, technology is already here but I can forsee the outcry over "Big Brother".

The only option I see now is a cultural one. If we can’t stop drivers acting irresponsibly and outrageously we have to get over our fear of dobbing in a mate and report it. Every time.

Yes – there will be issues of malicious reporting and other such foul play… but I don’t think that should stop it. You can always warn those who make frivolous reports.

Perhaps it could take a number of complaints about the same driver within a certain period of time from different people before anything is done. All it would need is for 3 drivers to report that Green Lancer heading north at 130km/h+ on the Kwinana – and they get a visit from the Plod.

I know that in effect this can already happen, but if the Government is willing to spend millions on campaigns for drink driving and seatbelts, surely a "Dob in a Dickhead" campaign would be even more effective?

It’s a big cultural mindshift for us to make, but with the amount of people (families, friends, innocent bystanders) currently being affected by idiot drivers surely we can all agree to report the goons who are clearly risking not just their own lives?

I’m not a particularly politically motivated person – but I’m almost pissed off enough to get this whole "Dob in a Dickhead" thing going myself.

Somebody crashed into my car whilst it was parked on the side of the road. I was inside the house having a chat. The Perp knocked on the door and provided all of their details.

Very nice of them – and I won’t go into how on earth they managed to crash into a car that was on the opposite side of the road to them.

Anyway – we call our Insurance Company and they want all relevant details – fair enough.

But then they ask for my Drivers Licence and my Licence Number.

Huh?

Why? No one was in the bloody thing so it’s not like it was being piloted!

When I queried it I was told it was their “process” and was required to process a claim. I suggested if no one was in the vehicle then logically ANY drivers licence would do. Apparently not.

After a few words…. and speaking to a Supervisor, they are now processing the claim without my DL Number.

I fully recognise that this sounds petty – but it’s yet another example of how our privacy gets invaded on a daily basis for absolutely NO justifiable reason.

We all get old… 8-(

The Sunday Times – World
March 30, 2003

US Marines turn fire on civilians at the bridge of death
Mark Franchetti, Nasiriya

THE light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was coming up, the beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence felt almost eerie after a night of shooting so intense it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves. My footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I walked slowly towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A horrific scene lay ahead.

Some 15 vehicles, including a minivan and a couple of trucks, blocked the road. They were riddled with bullet holes. Some had caught fire and turned into piles of black twisted metal. Others were still burning.

Amid the wreckage I counted 12 dead civilians, lying in the road or in nearby ditches. All had been trying to leave this southern town overnight, probably for fear of being killed by US helicopter attacks and heavy artillery.

Their mistake had been to flee over a bridge that is crucial to the coalition?s supply lines and to run into a group of shell-shocked young American marines with orders to shoot anything that moved.

One man?s body was still in flames. It gave out a hissing sound. Tucked away in his breast pocket, thick wads of banknotes were turning to ashes. His savings, perhaps.

Down the road, a little girl, no older than five and dressed in a pretty orange and gold dress, lay dead in a ditch next to the body of a man who may have been her father. Half his head was missing.