Vitriol etc

I live in Worcestershire. At times, Worcestershire makes me sad. Two letters in particular didn't help (standard rage against the Europe/immigration machine). Having killed a man with a letter last year (true story), I came out of my self-imposed exile to vent once more.

I don't expect for a second that it'll get published.

"It seems today’s whipping boys, at whom we wag the finger of blame when things go south, are now immigration and Europe. How reassuring a reminder of the quivering jowls of rage of Middle England that both should crop up last week in response to Peter Luff’s defence of the EU (Your View, 10^th January).

I’m no Conservative, but am far from being so single-mindedly partisan that I automatically refute everything our MP suggests. Over this, I am inclined to agree with him. Or maybe not; every day, I struggle to move (even to breathe) due to the “millions of Bulgarians and Albanians” compacting and squashing me like some kind of European car-crusher. Yes, we have people who choose to move from their prosperous, luxurious lives of hovel-dwelling fruit-picking to appreciate healthcare that they do not have to pay for; but then again, we are living in a time when the birth rate and immigration are falling while emigration rises (because when Britons leave the country to live in a nicer one, that’s unobjectionable), and the influx of different cultures has indisputably enriched our own. Oh, and there’s the fact that -newsflash- these people are also paying tax. And yes, it costs us money to help fund Europe. But what’s the viable, pragmatic alternative? We are big players in the EU, politically and economically. While we might see a short term benefit as more of the budget is kept in Britain (to spend on useful things like, say, cutting the tax rates for the best off while slashing the payments for the worst off), in the long term there seems little benefit to Europe sliding into further financial disarray(except maybe schadenfreude; incidentally, one import we are more than happy to make use of).

No-one could argue convincingly that immigration or remaining in the EU are perfect, flawless ideas that will lead to the perfect society. But I truly fear that the hasty, fear-induced kneejerk reaction of slamming the door on both will lead us to no good place in the long run."

Give 16 year olds the vote- Later.

Since Alex Salmond announced that 16 and 17 year olds would be allowed to vote in the Scottish Independence referendum, there has been some sort of media frenzy; one drop of blood spills from a story into the waters of the press, and there's a sudden frothing and foaming as people spew their thoughts hither and yon. But enough of that laboured metaphor which, honestly, could be applied to anything. A story breaks, people report it. I feel bad for writing that now. I guess it just sounded good at the time.

Anyway, there has been a surprising amount of support for Salmond, with many (even the Times) feeling that the voting age should be dropped by two years for all manner of elections. The general line of argument is repeated enough that I don't have to spell it out here: they can pay taxes, have all these rights and responsibilities, and so on and so forth. And, on balance, I find myself agreeing with this.

Except for one thing.
We're not ready.

I say 'we're'; as of December, I too will be able to rob whichever monkey has a blue rosette pinned to it of one vote in their majority in Mid Worcestershire. Take that, Cameron! Anyway, by 'we' I mean the cohort of 16 and 17 year olds of which I am, for a couple of months, still a member (past that, I dare say senility will strike, and my hairline will recede to be replaced by cynicism, a bad back and a burning desire to think about mortgages). And by 'not ready', I don't necessarily mean it in the patronising 'not mature enough' sense, although the mock election my politics set ran last year, where year 11 swept Nick Griffin to a landslide victory, may beg to differ. How much of this was genuine belief, though, and how much down to the hilarious prank of 'let's support the BNP' (because, you know, voting for them is, like, the funniest thing ever) is another question.

No. We're not ready largely because we have not been prepared. 4 years of Citizenship at high school. Three hours of political education. One of which was spent watching Eastenders, one of which was inventing a party and then holding a little election (the Fun Communists won, mostly due to a rigged ballot. I should know. I rigged it. Although, to paraphrase Blackadder, the 50 or so votes they won in a class of 30 just proves the conviction with which people voted). People tend to complain that teenagers know little of, and show little appreciation for, politics. Well, maybe if more of an effort were made to teach them, to engage with them, than that needn't be a concern. It's absolutely true that teenagers don't perhaps know enough about politics to vote at the moment (but then, it could be argued, have adults been taught any more?). But this isn't sufficient reason to say that they should never be given the vote.

Take it to the system. Get people interested, or at least educated, in politics from a younger age. Develop a more politically mature generation. When society has provided the tools to make it worthwhile, then 16 year olds should be given the vote.

Happy Birthday to Me (Blog)

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/

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.

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.

And now I've run out of steam.

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.

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.