Europe is paralyzed by personal debt

Inspect data here.

INVESTMENT DISCLOSURE: Mostly in cash (and index-linked National Savings Certificates), but now planning to build up some reserves of physical gold via regular saving.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content.

Europe is paralyzed by personal debt

Inspect data here.

I burned my mother-in-law's teeth

We were in Ireland, up in the Galtee Mountains near Clonmel, where my wife's mother grew up. The holiday cottage had its own water supply, whose peat stain got through the filter on our water jug, and in the old fireplace we burned peat brickettes bought from the local garage. I love an open fire, and my motto for anything finished with is "it'll burn".

Peace, sunshine, fresh air. We should have bought a place there before the market went crazy.

I say fresh air, but the farmowner's dog (we called him Fogarty) could be detected going past a high window, by his crusted-cowshit smell. A genial animal, he would roll over when he saw us, displaying the impressive collection of scars on his belly and genitalia earned by jumping over barbed wire fences. Only the threat of sprayed hosewater would send him off on his way.

Morning. Breakfast over, the peat log dying to embers, my wife and her mother getting ready for the car ride into town to get their hair done. I tidied up and grabbed a crumpled paper tissue off the table and flung it on the fire. There's a delicious pause before paper darkens, then blooms into flame.

Only this time it was a blue flame. Wrapped in the tissue was a dental plate for the two false teeth my mother-in-law put on for show, though they weren't very good for the business of eating, which is why she had them out more often than in.

The flame brightened and elongated. It was far too late to save them.

She told the hairdresser, who collapsed, barking with laughter, then staggered across the passageway to the next shop: "Hey Jim, here's a feller burned the Mammy's teeth!"

I felt... accepted.

She passed away some years ago, but my wife says she's forgiven me by now.

George Orwell and sham security

UPDATE (15 September 2012): the camera has now been removed - I don't know why, or for how long.

"In general you could not assume that you were much safer in the country than in London. There were no telescreens, of course, but there was always the danger of concealed microphones by which your voice might be picked up and recognized..."

 

George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four.

 

Left: suburban Birmingham (UK), 9 September 2012

 

This camera was installed recently - and quietly - near to where I live.

 

Like so many things these days, it has its own little slogan: Making Birmingham Safer.

 

Not true. Last Sunday afternoon, the burglar alarm went off on a house across the road. I called the police, who told me they wouldn't come out unless I saw something suspicious; it could, after all, explained the policewoman on the other end of the line, have been triggered by a cat jumping onto a windowsill or something.

 

The response was much as I had expected, but I'd made the call to placate a couple of little girls who'd noticed the noise while trampolining in their garden next door.

 

When there's a real burglary, all you get is a crime number so you can claim on your insurance. And maybe a crime prevention pack from Victim Support officers who want to come in and eat your biscuits (I told them what I wanted was the burglars' heads cut off with a blunt knife, but their reaction suggested that my wish was inappropriate).

 

On the Monday, I returned from work to find a note through the door. It was from the police, asking for witnesses to an attempted robbery on our street on Sunday evening (c. 10:30).

 

No connection? Or would B not have happened if Birmingham's finest troubled themselves to deal in person with A, and show a regular physical presence in our area?

 

What use are cameras? Until burglars and muggers go around with numbers on their chests there'll be no flash-flash-you're-caught, like speeding motorists.

 

I suppose the police could upgrade to automatic face recognition software - but with all its Big Brother potential, that's a cure worse than the disease. Besides, criminals would find ways round: Andy McNab's novels explain how you go into a charity shop, buy a change of gear and put a peaked cap on your head and hey presto, cyber-following is foiled.

 

So what is all this? False reassurance, or an excuse to tighten the snooper's noose round the citizenry in general?

 

Or is it simply easier and safer for the cops to shuffle papers and handle calls from ninny householders who imagine we're still in an age when collars were felt, naughty kids' ears clipped and the bobby would tell you the time? Clock on, clock off and roll on retirement?

Ripped off by pump prices

Americans complain about the high cost of fuel, but compared to us Brits they're sitting pretty. Below (left) is a snapshot of a widget found on Max Keiser's site, where you can check regularly and grind your teeth.

To convert from (US dollars per US gallon) to the current British equivalent (i.e. French Revolutionary decimal pence per French Revolutionary litre), simply divide by 6.

Or 6.058595, if you want to be more exact. Here's a sample based on the latest prices and exchange rates - Brits are paying almost exactly double:













INVESTMENT DISCLOSURE: Mostly in cash (and index-linked National Savings Certificates), but now planning to build up some reserves of physical gold via regular saving.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content.

Ripped off by pump prices

Americans complain about the high cost of fuel, but compared to us Brits they're sitting pretty. On the right I've installed a new widget (found on Max Keiser's site) so you can check regularly and grind your teeth.

To convert from (US dollars per US gallon) to the current British equivalent (i.e. French Revolutionary decimal pence per French Revolutionary litre), simply divide by 6.

Or 6.058595, if you want to be more exact. Here's a sample based on the latest prices and exchange rates - Brits are paying almost exactly double:

Food prices, speculation and eco-folly

Max Keiser is a joy, just a joy. In this latest broadcast he lays about him gleefeully, smacking "nay-sayers should commit suicide" Bertie Ahern and faux-libertarian followers of the Mises and Adam Smith Insitutes, and describing Rupert Murdoch as a failed, lifelong anti-competitive, octogenarian porn merchant who should just get out of the Internet's way.

But since I've been touching on food and land recently, I find Keiser's interview with Professor Yaneer Bar-Yam particularly intriguing. The prof published a report in May that finds corn prices in Mexico are three times higher than they would otherwise be, thanks to (a) the diversion of corn into ethanol production and (b) commodity speculation (legalised in 2000).

Here's the graph:

"Fig.1 Corn price (blue line) and curves showing the causes of price increases according to our quantitative model (red dashed line). The green dashed dotted line is the supply and demand equilibrium impacted by the demand shock due to increasing corn to ethanol conversion. The quantitatively modeled speculation contribution to prices is the difference between the total and the supply and demand curve. The corn price without ethanol shock or speculation would be essentially constant (black dotted)."

Similarly, financial greed converts into distress and hunger for the poor. And as Max and his colleague note, the investment "terrorists" think it's funny.

INVESTMENT DISCLOSURE: Mostly in cash (and index-linked National Savings Certificates), but now planning to build up some reserves of physical gold via regular saving.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content.