WE live in unusual times. Ozzy Osborne gets to be editor of the London Evening Standard and I am to be named as the next chancellor based on once adding my expenses up correctly. Plus Orme tax, obviously.
Then we get a backlash on diesel after all those Orwellian ideologies that spark plug bad common rail good.
I am waiting to hear that evo models will save the planet and are now available from Boots on prescription.
Predictable, however, is the lack of excitement provision lavished on the proletariat's family car options.
We have come out the other side of little baby-bile people carriers, cars so bitter that they served to remind all that jiggy-jiggy is for procreation not pleasure.
Hey, but hang on buddy, trousers back to attention, we now have the ubiquitous crossover with an essential tiny engine option which would not pull a shrimp off a dead cod.
I often wonder if there was no Mumsnet would there be any crossovers. It is difficult to come up with any more indifference for these cars.
They are the custard of the automotive world. Sitting on a rather poor school dinner spotted dick.
What you really want is Chantilly cream, at worst a good Cornish clotted but instead of boundless pleasure there is 0-60mph in 12.1 seconds wrapped in rock-solid plastics and charity shop upholstery.
If family life demands a crossover it should at least be a classy one.
So for those who put in the hours, played the political greasy pole game, this is the reward.
The Jaguar F-Pace is not cheap but it is big and it is clever.
Buy the S 3.0d AWD and your 280bhp will cost £51,450. Strap on a sunroof, memory pack, all round parking control and 22-inch alloy wheels among other extras and the cost rises to £59,665, serious luxury.
And, by the way, serious performance. A V6 diesel delivering 60mph in 5.8 seconds via the eight-speed automatic gearbox. Under the new tax rules, however, consider yourself beaten to a pulp.
That is not to say fuel consumption is eye-watering. The test car averaged 43mpg and can achieve more, not least because you can select your driving mode. I kept it in scorchio.
Torque vectoring helps add confidence to a fine handling package, it provides braking on the inside wheel to aid agility.
All other electronic aids are there; full parking aids, surface and traffic sign reading and that godforsaken lane departure technology I hate so much.
For pleasure and enjoyment there is too much to list but the entertainment technologies cover all bases and as a place to spend time the cockpit is a joy and a testament to quality over parsimonious penny pinching.
One attraction of Jaguar is the conservatism of interiors. None bad, some spectacular but nothing silly, no one has tried to mount the rear-view mirror between your legs or sited the air con aeroplane style in the roof.
Mind you, would you feel sudden warmth down below in a plane consider these options; the iffy coronation chicken sandwiches at lunch or your pants are on fire.
So we have the familiar Tardis pop up gear selector,the expected heavily stitched leather interior and an altogether superior driving position.
If there is one complaint it is the way those big wheels bring with them a bit of extra road noise. My advice is to turn the radio up.
Off road it won't do a lot on these tyres but it is able and I can see popularity among shootists and those who tow horseflesh.
The F-Pace is everything it promised to be but better, this version should prove to be the real vote winner. It oozes style and achievement. Never mind the Americans and Brexit there are still crumpets for tea.
Even in uncertain times we can rest assured of one thing; where there is Jaguar-Land Rover the will always be a car which says this is England.