By and large, I am with those who think scientists have been a force for good through the history of mankind, especially those scientists who invented the formula for chocolate mousse.

Chocolate mousse is pure genius, in my opinion. Stand me in a kitchen with a bar of Dairy Milk, a George Foreman grill and a bath sponge and it would take a thousand years before I came up with anything as tasty and delicious as chocolate mousse.

This is probably because I never paid attention in science at school other than when the teacher let us play with Bunsen burners.

Then I couldn't get enough of science, especially the kind of science that called for burning human detritus, capturing the smell in a jar and then releasing it during music period.

Honestly, if there had been a market for perfume called Eau De Burned Hair you wouldn't be reading this nonsense every week and I would be on the French Riviera hanging out on my yacht with my home boys, Estee Lauder and Karl Lagerfeld.

But life has a career plan for most of us, and for those it forgets there is always selling insurance or journalism.

Nevertheless, you will be pleased to know I'm not complaining, although I would to ask your leave to make an exception for certain scientists whom I believe may have overstepped the boundaries in recent days.

But before I do that, I would like to thank everyone - and by that I mean all one of you - who sent me a "get well" cards and e-mails and texts after I revealed in last week's column I was on the verge of dying due to the worst cold in history.

As some of you may have guessed by now, I'm not dead, although it was a close-run thing, especially when I told Maggie I wasn't impressed by her new hairdo.

This wasn't strictly true. After all, like every man of a certain age I have long dreamed of going to bed with Thora Hird.

All I was trying to do was get her back for her unfailingly unsympathetic opinion of my illness, an attitude that reached its nadir this week when she started addressing me at all times as "Hey, Sickboy" (as in "Hey, Sickboy, it's your turn to take his nibs to nursery so take that intravenous drip out of your arm and get your backside in the car").

Anyway, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, it has come to my attention that some scientists have overstepped the boundaries in the pursuit of human advancement.

I am, of course, referring to those scientists who have created a new breed of "supermouse".

I'll be honest. When I first saw the headline many questions ran through my mind, the most prominent of which was: "How could they make mousse more super than it already is?"

But then I read further into the story and discovered it was about scientists in America who have genetically modified mice so that they perform like Lance Armstrong.

By this I mean these mice were able to produce incredible feats of athletic endurance over long periods of time and still have enough energy left afterwards to show Sheryl Crow a good time.

Accompanying these stories were tales of other madcap scientific experiments involving genetically-modified animals, such as one where some bright spark in Japan crossed a pig with spinach in the hope that this would produce healthier bacon.

Then there was an attempt to cross goats with the silk that spiders use to make their webs.

Apparently the idea was to produce goats that could swing from buildings without the aid of a safety net.

Frankly, I think all this stuff a terrible waste of scientists' time.

Don't they have better things to do, such as invent a cure for my cold? And what about bad hairdos?

Surely, it is not beyond the limits of human ingenuity to come up with some kind of device to electrocute any hairdresser who leaves her client looking like Thora Hird and charges 50 quid for the privilege.

Then there are the ethical issues involved. What if this business with supermice turned out to be a success? Would the scientists then attempt to use the same technology to produce a new breed of superhumans?

Furthermore, has anyone asked Sheryl Crow if she would mind spending cosy nights at home with a hyperactive mouse? I thought not.