So. This blog is now a year old.
As befits its birthday (<inset quibble here about blogs not technically being born>. Tough. Mine was. Deal with it), you'd expect some kind of magnum opus to be churned out. A provocative, witty, persuasive, hilarious argument or observation that will blow your socks off.
Good luck finding that.
My back hurts and I can't, frankly, be bothered to celebrate this. So here's a link to an amusing tumblr account.
http://tragedyseries.tumblr.com/
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Saturday, 22 September 2012
Bah
Blogger has changed.
It has changed the dashboard.
It has changed the look behind the scenes.
It has changed the way you do a new post.
It has changed, and it did not ask me first.
Bah.
Okay, let me make on thing clear. I do not object unreservedly to change in itself (nor do I mean this in the 'I'm not racist, but I do think it's okay to burn crosses while wearing a pointy white hood' sense). Change is all right; it's manageable. But, and here's the key thing, only when it's actually for the better.
Got that, Blogger? Got that, Tesco? Got that, whatever else changes whenever the hell it feels like it without offering a suitable, compelling reason?
I had just got my head around the Blogger system, and was starting to feel comfortable with it. I was perfectly content. But now, presumably with the idea that changing something automatically improves it regardless of what has been changed, it's all gone wrong. Suddenly, I feel ignorant and confused and bewildered and just a little bit scared.
I shall repeat. Bah.
It has changed the dashboard.
It has changed the look behind the scenes.
It has changed the way you do a new post.
It has changed, and it did not ask me first.
Bah.
Okay, let me make on thing clear. I do not object unreservedly to change in itself (nor do I mean this in the 'I'm not racist, but I do think it's okay to burn crosses while wearing a pointy white hood' sense). Change is all right; it's manageable. But, and here's the key thing, only when it's actually for the better.
Got that, Blogger? Got that, Tesco? Got that, whatever else changes whenever the hell it feels like it without offering a suitable, compelling reason?
I had just got my head around the Blogger system, and was starting to feel comfortable with it. I was perfectly content. But now, presumably with the idea that changing something automatically improves it regardless of what has been changed, it's all gone wrong. Suddenly, I feel ignorant and confused and bewildered and just a little bit scared.
I shall repeat. Bah.
Saturday, 8 September 2012
Slang Ahoy!
There's a growing emphasis for many young people about the need to be 'street' (look it up; can't be bothered to explain it right now). However, I can't quite escape the fact that this is inappropriate for that sorely neglected group, the middle classes. They don't want to be seen playing loud hippety-hop in ripped (the tears make them worth more. Duh) clothes. No. It is time for the ground-breaking entrance of a new sub-culture. It is now the era of people proudly wearing fair-trade beanies and pronouncing themselves as 'Avenue'.
- A common initiation for those wishing to be avenue is the peddling of chilli peppers on the streets. For many, it's Scotch or nothing; none of that weak, cut rubbish.
- Many wouldn't dream of being caught outside without the latest clothes from the sales racks at Next and Boden. A serious negation of Avenue Credibility ('Av Cred') could be at stake.
- A popular past time is walking down the streets, bouncing a tennis ball with a racket on the ground, with Coldplay blasting (quietly) from a small speaker.
Saturday, 25 August 2012
I knew it was too good to last
"Waterloo. Couldn't escape if I wanted to."- Confucius
Hubris, it would seem, is the downfall of us all. Whether it is a slow and steady walk up to the top of Mount Giantegohead, or a quick trip on the ski lift, sooner or later we will all come crashing down.
It can happen in small ways. The other day, I got the hiccoughs. Not too unusual. I tried to cure them with my own patented method, and it seemed to work. Remarking "See, hiccoughs are really very easy to cure", I was later cursèd with another two bouts of funny squeaky noises.
That was manageable. This plight, however, is not.
Latvians, wherefore have thou forsaken me?
Was my humble Google Translate offering not enough? Did it even turn you against me?
Whatever it was, I am truly sorry.
For those of you who can't read my stats page (and that should, theoretically, be everyone but me. If you can read it, aren't there more important things to hack? Presumably someone is constantly hacking the Daily Mail website, or else there wouldn't be the continuous stream of semi-digested bile and half truths that passes for journalism there), Having gone from a peak of 45 Latvians visiting this esteemed website, a large number of them in one week, I have somehow managed to fall to 44 Latvians having visited it. Someone hated it so much, they travelled back in time to prevent themselves ever reading it in the first place. But, hey. I got arrogant. Almost 50 people from one country read my stuff, so I naturally assumed I was now some kind of celebrity god figure. It seemed like a logical conclusion. And then they abandoned me...
Touché, Latvia.
Hubris, it would seem, is the downfall of us all. Whether it is a slow and steady walk up to the top of Mount Giantegohead, or a quick trip on the ski lift, sooner or later we will all come crashing down.
It can happen in small ways. The other day, I got the hiccoughs. Not too unusual. I tried to cure them with my own patented method, and it seemed to work. Remarking "See, hiccoughs are really very easy to cure", I was later cursèd with another two bouts of funny squeaky noises.
That was manageable. This plight, however, is not.
Latvians, wherefore have thou forsaken me?
Was my humble Google Translate offering not enough? Did it even turn you against me?
Whatever it was, I am truly sorry.
For those of you who can't read my stats page (and that should, theoretically, be everyone but me. If you can read it, aren't there more important things to hack? Presumably someone is constantly hacking the Daily Mail website, or else there wouldn't be the continuous stream of semi-digested bile and half truths that passes for journalism there), Having gone from a peak of 45 Latvians visiting this esteemed website, a large number of them in one week, I have somehow managed to fall to 44 Latvians having visited it. Someone hated it so much, they travelled back in time to prevent themselves ever reading it in the first place. But, hey. I got arrogant. Almost 50 people from one country read my stuff, so I naturally assumed I was now some kind of celebrity god figure. It seemed like a logical conclusion. And then they abandoned me...
Touché, Latvia.
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
Attempt at Economics
I will just clarify now. I am not, have never been, and probably will never be, an economics person. A lot of the complicated stuff goes right over my head. However, below are just a couple of musings of mine which I'm fairly sure make at least some sense. If they're completely off the mark, then oh well. On with the show.
The Paradox of the Free Market
It's something beloved by Americans, Thatcherites (irrelevant, but Google Chrome's spell checker suggests 'Thatcherites' should be 'hesitater'. Biting satire there from Google Chrome) and Pinochetians (which, as far as Google Chrome is concerned, just shouldn't exist). But is this fabled 'Free Marker' actually possible? Can it exist? (There's the crux; 'can', not 'should'. I've nothing against the market, per se; not without its flaws, of course, but anywhoo. That's another debate for another day.)
The problem is, as far as I can tell, that there seem to be two different definitions as too what constitutes a free market:
1) A market free from government regulation and influence, where pure capitalism takes centre-stage
2) An economic environment wherein one is free to compete and potentially prosper.
And the way I see it, these two are mutually exclusive ideas. Only something that combined the two would truly be a 'free market', in my opinion, yet such a scenario is impossible.
Allow me to demonstrate with the aid of soup. In this free market, government would take a back seat and everyone who wanted to make soup would have a fair chance at doing that and making a living out of it.
However, without the government, a few soup empires will rise to the top and crush all opposition. No room for the small soup merchant here; oh no. Huge business has a stranglehold on the market; ergo, it is not truly 'free'. Free suggests the freedom to compete, and this clearly isn't here.
On the reverse side, though, if there is to be competition, then businesses have to be kept artificially small, or at least restricted on where and to what extent they can pop up. This calls for Big Daddy State to step into the ring and make sure everyone is playing nicely. Hello government; goodbye free market.
Why Raising Tax Makes More Sense
Obviously, in an ideal world, we'd pay no tax. All the many services that people want and require would mystically find some sort of easy, everlasting funding; the nuclear fusion of the public sector. As it is, if people want to live, they have to cough up a bit of money to the government. We can agree, hopefully, that this is basically acceptable, unless you're the cold hearted person who doesn't mind the old dear across the road croaking because you wanted a new box-set of Friends.
As it is, about 29 million in the UK pay income tax, which is the broad supply of funding for government spending. Raising or lowering this amount is a contentious issue. Using the complex science of 'Big Numbers', I will try to argue why raising tax makes far more sense than cutting it.
Basically, the science of 'Big Numbers' suggests that 29 million is quite a big number; in terms of pound sterling, at any rate. Conversely, 1 is quite a little number. Following? I should hope so. Anyway, 29 million people across the country are unlikely to notice, or be hugely affected either way, by a change of £1 (approximately 5 Freddo Bars, or a teeny-weeny-eeny chunk of the Swedish Forests). Raising tax by £1 per person, or even a little bit more, is unlikely to cripple households. They may have to go a week with a slightly less posh bag of crisps. But to the state, £29,000,000 is really quite useful, and can be spent on whatever needs £29,000,000, or even double that, should people be forced to fork out an extra £2 rather than 1.
Now, flip this scenario (I mean reverse; not the very polite, middle-class curse. Oh, flip this flipping scenario!), and apply the same figures to lowering taxes. Families up and down the nation aren't going to jump up and down for joy because the Chancellor has made them £1 or £2 better off each year. And The £29 million or £58 million loss of revenue for the state is going to hurt. For tax lowering to actually be useful and worthwhile, they need to be really quite big. And this just puts a drain on the country as a whole's income.
There. I hope that wasn't to banal, inane, or wrong. If you would like to learn more about the science of 'Big Numbers', then pick up your nearest calculator and press 9 until your finger starts bleeding.
The Paradox of the Free Market
It's something beloved by Americans, Thatcherites (irrelevant, but Google Chrome's spell checker suggests 'Thatcherites' should be 'hesitater'. Biting satire there from Google Chrome) and Pinochetians (which, as far as Google Chrome is concerned, just shouldn't exist). But is this fabled 'Free Marker' actually possible? Can it exist? (There's the crux; 'can', not 'should'. I've nothing against the market, per se; not without its flaws, of course, but anywhoo. That's another debate for another day.)
The problem is, as far as I can tell, that there seem to be two different definitions as too what constitutes a free market:
1) A market free from government regulation and influence, where pure capitalism takes centre-stage
2) An economic environment wherein one is free to compete and potentially prosper.
And the way I see it, these two are mutually exclusive ideas. Only something that combined the two would truly be a 'free market', in my opinion, yet such a scenario is impossible.
Allow me to demonstrate with the aid of soup. In this free market, government would take a back seat and everyone who wanted to make soup would have a fair chance at doing that and making a living out of it.
However, without the government, a few soup empires will rise to the top and crush all opposition. No room for the small soup merchant here; oh no. Huge business has a stranglehold on the market; ergo, it is not truly 'free'. Free suggests the freedom to compete, and this clearly isn't here.
On the reverse side, though, if there is to be competition, then businesses have to be kept artificially small, or at least restricted on where and to what extent they can pop up. This calls for Big Daddy State to step into the ring and make sure everyone is playing nicely. Hello government; goodbye free market.
Why Raising Tax Makes More Sense
Obviously, in an ideal world, we'd pay no tax. All the many services that people want and require would mystically find some sort of easy, everlasting funding; the nuclear fusion of the public sector. As it is, if people want to live, they have to cough up a bit of money to the government. We can agree, hopefully, that this is basically acceptable, unless you're the cold hearted person who doesn't mind the old dear across the road croaking because you wanted a new box-set of Friends.
As it is, about 29 million in the UK pay income tax, which is the broad supply of funding for government spending. Raising or lowering this amount is a contentious issue. Using the complex science of 'Big Numbers', I will try to argue why raising tax makes far more sense than cutting it.
Basically, the science of 'Big Numbers' suggests that 29 million is quite a big number; in terms of pound sterling, at any rate. Conversely, 1 is quite a little number. Following? I should hope so. Anyway, 29 million people across the country are unlikely to notice, or be hugely affected either way, by a change of £1 (approximately 5 Freddo Bars, or a teeny-weeny-eeny chunk of the Swedish Forests). Raising tax by £1 per person, or even a little bit more, is unlikely to cripple households. They may have to go a week with a slightly less posh bag of crisps. But to the state, £29,000,000 is really quite useful, and can be spent on whatever needs £29,000,000, or even double that, should people be forced to fork out an extra £2 rather than 1.
Now, flip this scenario (I mean reverse; not the very polite, middle-class curse. Oh, flip this flipping scenario!), and apply the same figures to lowering taxes. Families up and down the nation aren't going to jump up and down for joy because the Chancellor has made them £1 or £2 better off each year. And The £29 million or £58 million loss of revenue for the state is going to hurt. For tax lowering to actually be useful and worthwhile, they need to be really quite big. And this just puts a drain on the country as a whole's income.
There. I hope that wasn't to banal, inane, or wrong. If you would like to learn more about the science of 'Big Numbers', then pick up your nearest calculator and press 9 until your finger starts bleeding.
Monday, 20 August 2012
An Idea (gasp!)
This will be quite short, as it's only a little idea, and I'm writing it down in the twelve minutes before University Challenge (priorities, people). It is also unlikely to be taken seriously, as it concerns constitutional reform, a subject that the government can never find time for when there's any slight possibility that it will make the Lib Dems happy (for happy, read 'not soul crushingly miserable'), while suddenly becoming a top idea when it will conveniently happen to rig the next election for the Tories.
Anyway, that's two of my twelve minutes gone, so I'll be brief; though, I'm sure that you have all the time in the world for constitutional reform, it being such a thrilling subject ("All right, Li'l Eric, what story do you want to be read for bedtime?" "Oooh, ooh! Tell me the one about the 2011 AV campaigns, Daddy!")
My idea is a small, yet I think, important one. Secret ballot for MPs. It worked, in a way, for Thatcher (and I'll wait now for the red to dissipate from the left-wing's eyes) and the unions. MPs are, frankly, too easy to bully, bribe and cajole into voting a particular way, whether the bullying, bribing and cajoling is done by governmental whips or outside interests. As such, it is really very, very easy for the government to pass any legislation that they want by threatening or tantalising their cohorts. It's at this point that Li'l Eric should gasp, and shout "But Daddy! That's not very democratic! And it's a feeble way to hold the executive to account in an institution wherein Parliament should be sovereign."
Damn straight, Li'l Eric.
As I said, it may just be a small change. But I do feel it can do little harm, and possibly a lot of good, for our legislative process to be voted on without whips breathing down our MPs' backs. Give 'em a chance to decide by their own accord. Gone are the days when the electorate would stand in a huddle and raise their hands for Fusty Manythugs the Tory or Oilward Bribethelot the Whig under great duress. Perhaps Parliament should catch up with the times.
And all that, with two minutes to spare. Fantastic.
Anyway, that's two of my twelve minutes gone, so I'll be brief; though, I'm sure that you have all the time in the world for constitutional reform, it being such a thrilling subject ("All right, Li'l Eric, what story do you want to be read for bedtime?" "Oooh, ooh! Tell me the one about the 2011 AV campaigns, Daddy!")
My idea is a small, yet I think, important one. Secret ballot for MPs. It worked, in a way, for Thatcher (and I'll wait now for the red to dissipate from the left-wing's eyes) and the unions. MPs are, frankly, too easy to bully, bribe and cajole into voting a particular way, whether the bullying, bribing and cajoling is done by governmental whips or outside interests. As such, it is really very, very easy for the government to pass any legislation that they want by threatening or tantalising their cohorts. It's at this point that Li'l Eric should gasp, and shout "But Daddy! That's not very democratic! And it's a feeble way to hold the executive to account in an institution wherein Parliament should be sovereign."
Damn straight, Li'l Eric.
As I said, it may just be a small change. But I do feel it can do little harm, and possibly a lot of good, for our legislative process to be voted on without whips breathing down our MPs' backs. Give 'em a chance to decide by their own accord. Gone are the days when the electorate would stand in a huddle and raise their hands for Fusty Manythugs the Tory or Oilward Bribethelot the Whig under great duress. Perhaps Parliament should catch up with the times.
And all that, with two minutes to spare. Fantastic.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Sveiki Latvija!
Tātad, es tikko uzzināju, ka pagājušajā mēnesī, man bija četrdesmit trīs apmeklējumus no Latvijas šajā blogā. Es nezinu, vai tas ir tas pats cilvēks, vai es esmu tikai pēkšņi padarot to liels Austrumeiropā (panta jums ir jāsāk kaut, es domāju). Tātad, ja tu esi latviešu, un vēlos, lai mani karalis vai kaut ko, tad atstājiet man komentēt. Vai varbūt kādu naudu.
Ak, un žēl, ja tas ir šausmīgs latviešu gramatiku. Es zinu tikai tik daudz latviešu kā Google Translate.
So, I just found out that over the past month, I have had forty-three visits from Latvia on this blog. I don't know whether this is the same person, or whether I am just suddenly making it big in Eastern Europe (you have to start somewhere, I suppose). So, if you're Latvian, and want to make me King or something, then just leave me a comment. Or maybe some money.
Oh, and sorry if this is awful Latvian grammar. I only know as much Latvian as Google Translate.
As testament to Google Translate's poor... translating, here's the English version again after it was translated into Latvian (allegedly) and then back into English:
So, I just learned that last month, I was forty-three visits of Latvian in this blog. I do not know if it is the same man, or am I just suddenly making it big in Eastern Europe Article you have to start somewhere, I think). So if you're Latvian, and I want to make me king or something, then leave me a comment. Or maybe some cash.
Oh, and sorry if this is a terrible Latvian grammar. I only know so much Latvian as Google Translate.
Marvellous work, Google.
Ak, un žēl, ja tas ir šausmīgs latviešu gramatiku. Es zinu tikai tik daudz latviešu kā Google Translate.
So, I just found out that over the past month, I have had forty-three visits from Latvia on this blog. I don't know whether this is the same person, or whether I am just suddenly making it big in Eastern Europe (you have to start somewhere, I suppose). So, if you're Latvian, and want to make me King or something, then just leave me a comment. Or maybe some money.
Oh, and sorry if this is awful Latvian grammar. I only know as much Latvian as Google Translate.
As testament to Google Translate's poor... translating, here's the English version again after it was translated into Latvian (allegedly) and then back into English:
So, I just learned that last month, I was forty-three visits of Latvian in this blog. I do not know if it is the same man, or am I just suddenly making it big in Eastern Europe Article you have to start somewhere, I think). So if you're Latvian, and I want to make me king or something, then leave me a comment. Or maybe some cash.
Oh, and sorry if this is a terrible Latvian grammar. I only know so much Latvian as Google Translate.
Marvellous work, Google.
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