Sunday, November 10, 2024
Why Gold (and Silver) Standards Don't Work: Part III - Human Meddling
Tuesday, November 5, 2024
Update: Not So Golden
Monday, November 4, 2024
I'm Off The Gold Standard
Saturday, October 26, 2024
Magica de Spell vs Scrooge McDuck
Sunday, September 29, 2024
State Education: A Modern Cargo Cult
Saturday, September 28, 2024
Fools' Harbour
Thursday, August 22, 2024
One Staffroom or Many?
Potemkin Riots
Monday, July 22, 2024
Boom Boom Boom
So Biden has dropped out. In a whoosh everything has happened, rapid fire.
June 27th: Trump/Biden debate - which led to the clamour for Joe to go.
July 13th: Trump assassination attempt.
July 15th: Trump VP announced
July 21st: Biden out
It looks like Kamala Harris will take over. So now the last slot to be filled is the Democrat VP pick. Which should tell us a lot.
Obviously, with the Trump brouhaha, it seems Trump is nailed on for victory. That these stars are being aligned directly for that. The powerful people at the top have made peace with him, and now we're all going to get some type of closure. A release valve. Discontent pacified. A great smoothing-over. The cancellations of leftists adds weight to this notion. The people at the top now willing to pull their levers on behalf of the right. A visible shift. The talk of prison sentences for Trump gone. (And, of course, the simple fact that they could've gotten rid of Joe long ago, and stuck an A-list Democrat candidate in, but didn't.) So the Hollywood stars align.
It makes so much sense. I think it's totally wrong to be cancelling Home Depot workers because they've said something nasty about Trump on Facebook, but that aside, the general trend I can applaud. It's the sensible course to chart.
Having seen so many twists and plots, I always feel like I'm sat at the Red Wedding though. That I'm sat hearing Hulk Hogan tell me how great I am, with a big smile on my face, as daggers hide beneath cloaks. Ready, not only to do me in, but to mock my naïve stupidity as they do it. My mind can't help but go to the worst case scenario.
So, at the moment, I think the best, but fear the worst. Some of the instant cope I've seen from people on the right lends itself to the fear. People saying that Kamala will be easier to beat than Biden, which obviously isn't true. Biden was literally senile. Anyone, even Kamala Harris, will be an improvement. How can they not be?
Kamala Harris actually reminds me of Rebecca Long-Bailey. Likeable, but a bit light in the head. The Labour leadership contest seems such a long time ago now. As that was taking place, Covid was springing up from the ground, like a maleficent aether. On this very blog those two things overlap. The one seeming so very innocent compared to the other. I remember typing those Labour leadership blog posts at the time. I had the dread of the coming Covid nightmare all through January and February, but I was trying so hard not to be a conspiracy theorist. This time I'm also trying hard not to be a conspiracy theorist. Though with Covid there was instinctive dread in my stomach, here there's instinctive hope. My instinctive judgement - my reading of the tea leaves - says things will indeed be smoothed-over.
Is it any wonder my mind can't help but race towards Red Wedding scenarios though? We've seen so many events, moments, and shakedowns - and three months is a long time, so a lot can happen. Plus, the world - and human culture - is a complex thing. So organic events can overtake written scripts. When the right surrendered the moral high ground, by advocating the cancelling of people on the left, they made a big mistake in terms of culture war. They surrendered moral authority. You'd think people wouldn't be so stupid to do this when fighting a culture war. You almost assume it must be deliberate. However, people find it hard to read culture - it requires a bit of female-brain. Men tend to be analytic. They love rules and theories. "Machiavelli said this ..therefore we must take this course of action." Ideologies are always inferior to real life though. And they dull the senses. A person operating on instinctive real-world judgement instantly sees that harassing a middle-aged woman who works at Home Depot makes you look like an idiot, but if you're subsumed by a set of rules that says you must do it, the instinct takes a beat seat. And real life takes a back seat to memes and theories.
I'm getting a bit far from the original intent of the article, as I often do, so I'll leave it there.
Saturday, July 20, 2024
Learning To Lie
It's super hot. Sleep is a virtual impossibility in this heat. I was in work today, so last night I had to force myself to sleep through it. From a possible eight hours I think I got about three. However, I'm off tomorrow, so I have the luxury of not caring tonight. So, with tired eyes, I'm posting..
I'm not sure what I have to say, but I feel I should post. Over the last few days or so I've been a little arsy and impetuous over on Twitter. Watching the right behave as badly as the left in response to the Trump brouhaha was annoying. Of course, I also promised to try to show goodwill towards the new Labour government as well, but seeing the media love-in over that has made that difficult too. I think I've exhausted my humpiness now though, so my pragmatic self can regain control of the wheel. I must admit it was nice to shoot from the hip a little. You feel so much more alive and youthful when you're acting on your actual emotions.
It stills amazes me how much I care about the truth. I always wonder where this feeling comes from. Is it something innate I was born with? Or is it a consequence of how I was raised? Was the importance of honesty just drilled into me? Did all those Christian school assemblies I scorned make a difference after all?
I really hate lies. Though, saying that, what actually triggered me was seeing lies being enforced. I watched one livestream where audience members in the live-chat were shut down pretty aggressively by the talking heads taking part. I just can't stomach it. The desire to dumb the inquisitive senses of others. That a course of action has been taken, and everyone else must pay lip service to it. The pecking order is never more visibly apparent than in moments like these. Suddenly the talking heads that feign friendship and common cause show their teeth.
Also, this idea that, because the lies are being told by people on your side, you'll be cool with it. Like this idea that it's now somehow okay to censor the left, "cos they're the enemy." It almost goes beyond right and wrong. The ego takes over. It's an insult to me personally. I don't want to be a snake.
I'm getting hyperbolic again now ..and I shouldn't. I know how the world works. I've learnt that we live in an imperfect world. I've even written pieces like this one: The Spring, showing how natural and inevitable (even necessary) systems of secrecy and lies are. Yet still, I hate it. I just want to live in a world where I can have honest, open conservations with other humans, without having to worry about hitting the tripwire.
Saturday, July 6, 2024
Manier Things To Discuss
My Advice For Reform
Monday, June 24, 2024
Tony Blair: The Cristiano Ronaldo of Politics
Sunday, June 23, 2024
Euros during the Euros
I've been watching a documentary series about the Blair/Brown years. It's hard not to be impressed by Gordon Brown. Weighty, intellectual, that dour Scottish sense of moral purpose. I can't help but like him when I see this younger footage. Even when he's doing things that I don't agree with, like making the Bank of England independent.
Wednesday, June 12, 2024
The Alchemical Election
Thursday, May 16, 2024
Orange Orchard Economics
This is just a quick post to distil my views on the empty high street problem.
Partly thanks to online retail, highstreets and city centres are dying - this is something pretty much everyone agrees is happening. Though pointing out the problem is easy, solutions aren't as forthcoming. Here's my plan:
1) Accept that we need less high street shop space. i.e. stop trying to artificially prop-up retail space that simply isn't needed in this online age.
2) Make it as easy for people to sell things on their local high street as it is to sell things on eBay. That is, create a public market space where people can hire kiosks/shop space by the hour, for a small fee. In effect, a local market place open daily, and open to everyone.*
3) Retail space that isn't needed repurposed. With some sold for new housing and some earmarked to become public parks and orchards.
4) More allotments. A greater emphasis on meeting demand for allotments in town planning. Viewing towns not just as spaces for housing and retail, but also as spaces for gardens, nature and food production. In summary, recreating the village green in macro.
*If the idea of selling things on your high street as easily as you would on eBay sounds strange, pause and think about it for a moment. Why is it so hard to sell things in the very town or city where you live? Is it really any wonder high streets and local economies are dying when they're so inflexible and difficult to enter as a seller. Perhaps if politicians stopped trying to strangle and regulate the online world, and instead tried to imitate it, local economies would re-bloom. After all, originally, in earlier times, it would've been perfectly normal for individual people to turn up at their local market place and flog their wares. It's only over-regulation that has stopped this organic process from continuing into our current era.
Again, you can list a bunch of items for sale very easily on eBay, or sell your homemade arts and crafts on a platform like Etsy. So why is it so difficult to take these very same items down to your local high street or town centre and do the same? Why is it so difficult to set up a stall, or book a slot of space on a morning or an afternoon?
Tuesday, May 7, 2024
Preserving Folk Memories
A few weeks ago I went to a folk night. In a small, little pub. All older folkies singing their traditional ballads, and younger art school types picking up the mantle. I feel I need to put it down in writing as it was such a snapshot of Britain as it is at this moment. I really felt like I was sat in an Adam Curtis documentary. The jarring mesh of imagery, along with the the music, creating a sad dystopian cinema reel. The people being filmed, here only by my eyes, having no awareness of how transitory their culture was. Or how lost and peculiar their world would look to anyone watching back in ten, twenty or thirty years' time.
The people at the folk night were all very left wing. Some had little Palestinian badges on their jackets. At points the traditional folk songs were slightly reworked to include lines about Palestine. One young girl sang an acapella song about immigration, the theme being that the people arriving are no different to you or I, and that they should be universally welcomed.
What I found most interesting about it though, was that everyone in the room was white.
It was such a stark contrast to my journey there. To get to the little pub I walked through Middlesbrough. From the sprawl of council estates in the east, past Albert Park, then the long, lazy walk down Parliament Road. My nanna lived near Parliament Road, and my mam grew up round there. Consequently, that journey is a journey I've made a million times before. I have memories of being pushed in buggies down those roads. Of getting ice creams and lolly pops from the shops along the way. I remember pubs that aren't there anymore. The White Rose, which is now gone, and the huge - to my infant eyes - Westminster Hotel. That building still stands, but it's now home to a takeaway and minimart.
As a child it was the scale and imagery that impressed me. I never once stepped foot in those pubs, I just remember the signs. "Why is there a picture of Big Ben on a pub sign?" I would wonder. "Why does Yorkshire have a white rose?" I would ask. It's all minor stuff, but it colours the landscape.
Anyhow, now things are different, and as I walked through the area I was naturally aware of this massive change. In my childhood, in the 1980s and 90s, the area was still mainly white English. Sure, the town centre was always a bit more diverse than parts of the town further afield, but still, it was majority English. Now, however, the demographics have starkly shifted. On the evening of the folk night ninety percent of the people I passed were non-English. There were two English drug addicts sat on the floor outside the shops. The odd English person coming and going, but aside from that it was totally non-English.
And I'm not making the point here that this is good or bad (I really am past the politics of it all now), I'm just stating that it's impossible not to notice the sheer change.
So, anyway, I made this familiar journey, mindful of how much things have changed ..then I stepped into a little pub, and suddenly found myself in a room full of white English people -- white English people that were all singing traditional English songs, no less. It was like a little cocoon.
How could I not notice this stark contrast?
And, likewise, how could I not notice the irony? That these left wing people were singing in favour of open borders and diversity. Yet, they were choosing to spend their free time surrounded entirely by other white people. Singing traditional English folk songs. It was revealed versus stated preference, illustrated perfectly in the wild.
I mentioned this to one of the people I was with, "Don't you think it's weird that they're all singing about diversity, yet every single person in this room is white?"
He looked around, "Yeah, that's true - I didn't notice that. It never even occurred to me."
"This is probably the most conservative thing you've experienced in a long time," I pushed on, "..a room full of white people, preserving their white folk songs, cocooned from the changing demographics outside ..but they're all left wing."
Of course, as I pushed on, I only pushed myself towards the, "Is he a racist?" bracket, and I could see some of the eyes apprehensively thinking, "He's one of those right-wingers, isn't he." Like I'd rolled up my sleeve to reveal a swastika tattoo or something. I tried explaining that I wasn't making a judgement about the changing demographics, just an observation of it, and an observation of some of the hypocrisies and muddled thinking surrounding it, but alas, it's a hard topic to navigate. Especially when you've had a few pints of some weirdly named ale, and it's slowing your judgement.
I felt a little sad and emotional listening to all the people singing their folk songs - that was probably partly the alcohol too. They were all really nice people, and they all sincerely meant well. It wasn't really the place for my disruptive, dragon-like observations. As I sat there I couldn't help but wonder if people would still be singing those songs in fifty years' time, or even twenty. Again, it was very much like an Adam Curtis documentary, where you're watching rare, old footage, of a world that once was. Grainy film of some middle-aged English woman, singing her gentle folk ballad - interspersed with footage of the changing world outside. The discordance as the camera pans over a kebab shop, as some folk balladeer warbles in the background.
Sadly, I couldn't capture it on film, so I can only capture it in writing.