The debate over the amount of intrusion into our lives by the state continues to rage. Councils are encouraging neighbours to rat on each other for not recycling, or watering the lawn. Cameras are to be used to provide evidence in cases of dog fouling or litter dropping and presumably anti-social behaviour such as standing about with a group of friends whilst in posession of a hooded top and teenage spots.
They're missing the point here. This is a golden opportunity to find employment for all those eldely, fittish people who are so bored living to be 96 and yet having nothing to do all day, not even take advantage of the free bus passes, as they can't afford to do anything when they get to wherever the bus is going.
They need to recruit an army of old bags.
When we were growing up there was always an old bag lurking to reprimand you for your loutish ways. Whether it was dropping litter, swearing (and only bloody and bugger usually not the effing, c-ing, p***ing strings of profanities that pass for conversation amongst the youth of today), not giving up your seat on the bus or trying to push in front of the queue, an old bag would spring up, fully armed. With her headscarf, her overcoat buttoned up to the neck even on the hottest summer's day, her shopping bag over one arm and her brolly under the other she would start screeching at miscreants, irrespective of gender, size or colour.
"Are you going to pick that up? Would you do that in your own home? You should have your mouth washed out with soap and water! Would you say that in front of your father? What would your mother say?" and so on, as the hapless offender grew redder and redder and his entourage melted away into the background.
The assault usually ended with the threat to tell your parents, which would cause you to break out into a sweat everytime that overcoated figure was spotted coming down the street, the palpitations only easing once she had sailed serenely past your doorstep, albeit giving you a knowing look on the way.
It is not untrue to say that many a potential delinquent was stopped in his or her tracks by the spectre of a tongue lashing from the local old bag.
So forget the community support police or whatever they are called and start campaigning now, bring back the old bag, you know it makes sense.