AS stories multiply about the escalating cost of fuel and the impact it is having on countless areas of everyday life, you would be forgiven for thinking that we are strolling towards apocalypse.

All right, so that’s a bit strong, but I suppose at least we would not have to weather the debate over the destruction of the Waterfront Enterprise Board, and the fate of the Council of Ministers would be of little consequence.

The looting of other people’s domestic heating oil has begun, people are stealing diesel and it is surely only a matter of time before Mad Max makes an appearance over the horizon with a large weapon and a look of uncontainable yet righteous fury.

With any luck we can do away with the Tina Turner bit of Beyond Thunderdome proceedings and it won’t be Mel Gibson who returns to the comfort of tight leather trousers. It might be the end of the world as we know it, but there are limits.

We do seem to be in a time of particularly rapid rise in prices but to whom exactly does this come as a shock? People have been saying for years that fuel is going to become expensive as it begins to run out. Yes, the oil companies are going to get in on the act for a couple of quick bucks but that’s capitalism and consumerism for you. Look them up and you’ll find that the definitions don’t have much to do with the greater good.

They might pretend to but what they really come down to is money, which makes more of itself for its own good, not yours.

There will always be people ready to make a few quid out of misery, but that is the pact you shake on to enjoy the virtues of a consumer society. The trouble with that being the case is how glum everything starts to look when the cash is leaving your pocket in greater amounts than it is entering.

The tales of price rises and thefts are all told with the relevant amount of indignant shock and, in the case of the Daily Mail, finding a minority group to blame for the unfortunate downturn in our collective fortunes. But when the shock and indignation have passed, who is going to have the guts to say “I told you so, and by the way, the way forward is not to use conventional fuel but you’ve known that for years too, you silly, silly fools”.

I don’t know about you, but it’s probably time to go and fill up the tank and padlock it – after all, this shortage will be someone else’s problem in the end.

And if it isn’t, there’s always Mel in leather to save us and, would you believe it, he’s invited Tina in her chainmail bra.