Running on empty

I hear today that both Gaddafi's forces and the rebels are getting low on ammunition. I have also noticed since the beginning of this conflict that members of both sides like nothing more than firing thousands of rounds in the air in gestures of defiance towards their respective foes whenever a Western news team hoves into view.

I suggest that in order to expedite a cessation of hostilities, we do indeed put boots on the ground, in the shape of as many TV camera crews as we can muster and film each side relentlessly 24/7 until they run out completely. I might add that those prosecuting the present action should perhaps view such a satisfactory conclusion as instructive and fundamentally revise and amend the pertinent export policies with this in mind.

Reverting to type

Ah, well. We may still be mired in dirty and unnecessary wars, but at least we’re not facing the economic and social catastrophe of the 70s. Cue Homer Simpson in a Halloween Special: or are we?

Says a lot, really, a typeface called Creepy. “Whata wasa thata, lady? Why sure! We gotta font forra everree occasion. Ay! Luigi! We gotta lady hera she wanta Penury in a 14!” That, believe it or not, is Informal Roman.

Applied Market Forces: first principles explained

It occurred to me that, what with Libya and all that, the bankers might think we've forgotten about them. We wouldn't want that, now, would we? Look what happened the last time the fog of war obscured them from the public gaze for too long. What naughty boys and girls they were. They would love nothing more than a good scrap with a real baddie, the better to resume looting unhindered. Good heavens! The media beanfeast over M.Ps' expenses provided sufficient cover for the biggest sting in history. A war? Really? Oh, we mustn't. We're spoiling them.

The bankers' jaw-dropping disingenuiety on the issue of their remuneration has now attained such Himalayan heights of intelligence insulting that we're all in danger of developing altitude sickness. With every swipe of the public credit card, our sensibilities recoil, our eyes glaze over to protect them and, do you know what? This is precisely what they want. As far as it goes, which isn't very far but, until we wake up, is as far as they need, their line of reasoning is sound enough, too; they are quite clearly getting exactly what they want with ruthless efficiency and nothing seems to stop them.

The Age of Entitlement

A shorter version of this was edited, with a breadknife it would seem, and appeared in The Herald 19th March 

The current furores over pensions, both private and public sector, and higher education funding, more than in any of the other political debates of the day, distinguish themselves not in what is discussed, but in what studiously avoids being discussed.

As one who comes from the butt end of the baby boom, but who has no pension provision and who has been holed below the waterline by the brazenly ideologically-driven economic policies of the Coalition, I can not speak too lowly of the bankers and their stooges, Osbourne, Cameron and company, but there are others I look at more than slightly askance. While the present Westminster government may be dead wrong in more ways than one could point a firing squad at, my sympathy for students and pensioners matches that which I have for the self-immolating Lib Dems.