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Nope. Because today, most city-centre shops are in windowless malls, so when the lights go out, you have no clue what you're getting. I wanted a rather nice framed butterfly, but fearful that I might actually be buying a washing machine, I felt my way back out of the shop again and gave up.

Not that I could have bought anything anyway, because the tills were down, and so were the remote credit card readers. Seriously, you have no idea what paralysis a power cut brings these days. Not even the stock exchange was working properly. And if you want a generator, you'd better have nice tits and loose morals because frankly, that's the only way you're going to get one.

I found myself wondering, as I skipped up the darkened streets, past the gridlocked traffic, hemmed in and going nowhere because the traffic lights weren't working, what on earth Britain would look like should such scenes be repeated there. Chaos, I don't think is a big enough word.

I'd lose my computer, my PlayStation, my iPod, my coffee machine, my kettle and even the ability to get into my gun safe so I could shoot the looter who'd just come through the front door. The only good news is that all those sanctimonious fools who'd bought a G-Wiz would be stuck at home, unable to fill their stupid little car with juice.

You might think it won't happen here, but if you look at what's happened in Denmark, you'll change your mind. Like good communists, the government has jumped on the eco bandwagon and carpet-bombed the nation with 6,000 wind turbines.

But together, they produce only 19 per cent of the nation's power needs. And this is Denmark we're talking about, which has a population of seven, a Lurpak factory and two blokes called Bang & Olufsen making everyone's stereo thinner.

What's more, not a single one of Denmark's normal power stations has been closed down since the windmills were built. In fact, they are running at full capacity, 24 hours a day because Mr Bang and Mr Lurpak don't want to be faced with darkness every time the wind drops. Which it does. Often, and without warning.

Of course, here in Britain, the government has sensibly decided to go down the nuclear route. But trust me on this, by the time the public enquiries are over, and they've dragged Swampy and his mates out of all the trees, America will have invaded Iran, buggering up the oil supply, the Russians will have turned off the gas, and we'll be back in the Seventies, playing Monopoly.