Crap! After all the trouble I went through to disable the seat-belt nag now I feel guilty. (Try it. Or Google it. Cripes. Click unclick 9 times. After the ninth time, wait two seconds, but no more than four seconds, turn head and spit over right shoulder, twice. Face front, turn key 14 times, Click-unclick belt 12 more times, with the last click stopped between clickety and clack position. Etc...)
I get Mr. V. Anvile's point: keeping the driver where he/she belongs, thus avoiding more carnage (carnage? CAR-nage???) by an out-of-control vehicle. To the extent possible. Makes sense. Even if not always the case, at least the odds are better.

My usual split personality disorder has me:
Resenting the imposition of rule which precludes personal choice.
Understanding that rules are needed since they see us merely as a herd of cattle that needs to be edumacated.
Resenting the blatant cash-grab through fines (let alone demerit points).
Wondering at the very concept of hurtling along inside a large mass of metal, at high speeds, surrounded by thousands of other hurtling masses, while sitting in it loose like a meaty bobble-doll.
Resenting the belt when wearing a winter coat with my smokes unreachable without bolt cutters or a torch. That, and the difficulty of reaching in the back for another beer.
I still go for personal choice. I'll wear the belt in select locations and for select occasions. My brother in law always said to me: when driving, only break one law at a time. Drinking? Don't speed. Speeding? Wear the belt.
I always wear it when I get close to home. They say that the majority of accidents happen within a couple of miles from home. So...
