Tag Archives: Insanity

The D words

Juxtaposed

Denier: noun

  1. A unit of weight by which the fineness of silk, rayon, or nylon yarn is measured, equal to the weight in grams of 9,000 metres of the yarn and often used to describe the thickness of hosiery: 15-denier stockings
  2. A former French coin, equal to one twelfth of a sou, which was withdrawn in the 19th century.

Origin:
late Middle English: via Old French from Latin denarius (see denarius). sense 1 dates from the mid 19th century.

Denialist: noun

  1. A person who refuses to admit the truth of a concept or proposition that is supported by the majority of scientific or historical evidence: the small minority of very vocal climate change denialists.

Origin:

Not known.

Moron: noun
• informal

A stupid person: we can’t let these thoughtless morons get away with mindless linguistic vandalism every day

Origin:

early 20th century (as a medical term denoting an adult with a mental age of about 8–12): from Greek mōron, neuter of mōros ‘foolish’. Which can reliably be considered the mentality of anyone using the words ‘Denier’ or ‘Denialist’ in the context of Climate Science. Although no offence should be implied or meant to real morons who are far too intelligent to abuse language in this manner. It should be noted that the use of ‘Denier’ or ‘Denialist in any conversation or statement about weather or climate automatically infers sub-kindergarten mental acuity (Emotional & intellectual age 2-3)

Where does the money go?

Having just got back from the UK, I’m wondering about all the taxes on, well, just about everything. These extra taxes acting as a drag on the rest of the economy. So I asked myself, where is all this money actually going? Cui Bono? Who benefits? Does taxation, as so many of its advocates claim, actually increase, or decrease ‘fairness’? These are all fair questions which need fair answers.

At present UK public spending outdoes the tax take by an estimated £84 billion per year. Most of that disparity is interest payments an the estimated £2.2 trillion public debt if you factor in the public ownership, liabilities and support of RBS, Lloyds TSB etc. Total 2012-13 tax take by HMRC, about £468 billion. According to their own figures. So where’s the £648 billion figure come from? Confused? Join the club. £180 billion isn’t just chump change. Besides, government doesn’t make money, it has none of its own and only spends taxpayer dollar.

The approximate 2013 UK public spending breakdown is as follows. Public Pensions for well, people the workforce has decided it no longer needs. Let’s ignore all those overpaid leeches on salaries well above their real pay grade for the moment; £139 billion. National Health Care, you know, for that wonderful ‘free’ service which includes such joys as the ‘Liverpool Care Pathway‘ and compensation payments to Ambulance chasing Lawyers; over £124 billion. State Education, the edifice which no amount of political meddling seems to improve; over £87 billion. Defence, for all those wars the UK really can’t afford to fight, including the one the EU wants to declare on Russia; about £42 billion. Social Security, which includes all those ‘tax credits’ which would be cheaper to run if the tax wasn’t taken in the first place; over £117 billion. State Protection, whatever that means; over £31 billion. Transport about £17 billion. Which is a lot to cover cones, contraflows and potholes. General Government, an opaque description if ever I saw one; over £14 billion. Other Public Services, hmm, large Rattus Norvegicus smelt here; over £54 billion. Public Sector Interest, on the money the Government borrowed to buy the votes of the ill informed and lazy; over £47 billion. Additional Balance, or should that read ‘petty cash’; over £2 billion. Total Spending about £675 billion, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. The UK’s EU contribution hidden somewhere in those figures is about £8.7 billion. Source here. Somewhere in that lot is the electronic money ‘printed’ by ‘Quantative easing’ of well over £60 billion and paid direct to banks. No wonder we hear about planned raids on savings and other legalised theft like ‘Green taxes’. It’s a financial plughole of doom. Which will be the last metaphorical straw on the proverbial taxpayers back? Bank accounts raided at will?

According to this neat little infrographic from the Guardian, the difference is £84 billion, which needs to be ‘borrowed’. No idea from whom, but £47 billion in interest payments alone? My one remaining reader will note the disparity between the two sets of figures referenced. Hey, but what’s the odd billion or three between friends, eh?

The discerning reader, having done a little digging, will also note the step increase in UK taxation that happened back in 2000 and the flattening in public spending since 2011. So yes, Slaphead and friends are trying, but the purchase of the banks and resultant QE have doomed the UK taxpayer to ever increasing interest payments. Unless those debts and liabilities are sold off, those interest payments will continue to head for the stars faster than a Saturn 5 booster with a nuke up its arse.

Last time it took the UK eighteen years to bring the taxation rate and public spending into financial balance. 1998 / 9 I believe. Then Blair and his pile of grinning idiots were voted in, public debt skyrocketed and the tax take hasn’t caught up since. Figures don’t lie. No wonder the politicians are trying to skim off more and more all the time. We were told all this extra spending was all about ‘fairness’. What it has done is lumber current and future generations with an escalating debt bigger than World War 2. Which I don’t think has been fair at all.

If the answer is tax

Just taking my usual Sunday meander through the frothing unreality of the Tellytubbygraph. I see Vlad Putin being lauded as the current object of the UK medias eleven o’clock hate as they try to stir up the populace. The herd of elephants in the room of course being EU intervention in Ukrainian affairs and massive skimming from pipeline contracts by Ukrainian politico’s. Which monies somehow never got back to the Ukrainians, while certain of their politicians became billionaires. Mm-hm. Over here in Canada, the local Ukrainian population are being heard muttering over their plates of Perogies about how the more things change the more they stay the same. Pass the sour cream. So it is with us ex-pat Brits.

At the moment the current UK media bogeyman is not salt, alcohol, tobacco or fats but sugar, which is found in just about every processed food there is. No surprise there, then. Sugars of one form or another are part of the elements of life. Monosaccharides (Simple sugars) include Glucrose, Fructose and the sci-fi sounding Galactose. Disaccharides (Complex sugars) include Sucrose, Maltose and Lactose. Most plants, as I recall from various biology courses I’ve taken, have a certain amount of sugars tucked neatly away in their edible parts. Starches (Polysaccharides), like the ones used in all those ‘Healthy Option’ ready meals as filler are little more than complex sugars.

So the dilemma for the ‘tax everything’ brigade becomes what sort of comestible will be sugar tax exempt. Of course those poor people need their lives regulating by their elders and betters, they’re such children don’cha know. So which foodstuffs need taxing and by how much? My goodness, what a target rich environment.

Okay, so where will all this new tax revenue go? Back in the pockets of the poor, who will grow more numerous as the tax rates increase, said revenue first having been heavily skimmed to pay for new, personnel heavy government departments to oversee ‘fairness’ and sending out ‘revenue neutral’ cheques? Maybe into the UK’s ‘wonderful’ NHS, the one you don’t want to end up in the care of lest your intimate details are sold to marketing companies and your elderly relatives starved or neglected to death? Whilst ensuring sufficient Management for ‘compliance’ with increasingly engorged cobweb encumbered databases of rules and regulations. Top rates must be paid to the managers of course to get the best ‘talent’, even if their only real talent is managing to navigate the HR departments Byzantine recruitment process. A new tax would come in handy to fund them, and their new staff no doubt.

On the face of it, this is a great idea. Tax sugar because it’s so unhealthy. Reduce consumption, cutting obesity at a stroke, and the costs to the NHS will go down. Fewer sick people to treat, right? Simple, elegant, and logical. Ah, but what was that shadow? The law of unintended consequences is lurking in the wings, awaiting it’s entrance in a puff of smoke, bringing chaos and confusion to the lofty utopian plans of the puritanical tax advocates.

It’s not a leap of genius to see that governmental costs (and hence the cost of living) will have to go up because now there will need to be an extra layer of compliance and enforcement for each new tax, easily gulping down the tranches of revenue thus garnered. Unfortunately the overall tax take will reduce because of the tax inflated prices, meaning that government has to borrow to fund these new government departments for command and control. Higher taxes and borrowing act as a brake on the economy, further lowering the tax take and therefore moving more people into the ‘Poor’ category, requiring more government intervention. Requiring more taxation and borrowing, yah-de-yah, etcetera, etcetera. The money has to come from somewhere. Maybe ex-pats savings. Damn those soon-to-be-poor rich bastards, eh? Just don’t forget to tell your influential friends to start moving their money before the new regs come in. Those middle class bitches can take the bite. Again. Those pensions are unsustainable anyway. By the way, where did all these new poor people come from? Anybody know?

Excuse me, I have a boat to buy, boarders to repel. All that jazz.

Yet another snow day

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again; back in 2008 when we hunkered down for our first Winter in West Coast Canada, we were told by friends and family who had lived here since the 70′s “Don’t worry, it never snows in the Mid-Island.” Today I can confirm it’s snowing. Again. Cold, wet and heavy. It has snowed every year we’ve been here despite the assurances and blandishments of friends and neighbours. Despite all the assurances of those telling us that “Our children won’t know what snow is.”

The great lakes currently have about ninety percent ice cover, the most for over two decades at the time of writing, and almost as much as the 1973 record of 94.7 percent on 1979. The Midwest and USA are on the receiving end of Winter storm after winter snowstorm. Then we have witless fools chuntering on about how they think those of us with eyes in the front of our heads, and working brains between our ears are some form of criminal species they call ‘Deniers’. Deniers of what might I ask? Deniers of a changing climate? No, we can see that for ourselves. As for warming, if anything it’s getting colder. Simple observation will tell you that. In the words of Dylan; “You don’t need to be a Weatherman to see which way the wind blows.” I can tell you where it’s going to as well. Which is a bit of a disappointment as I was rather looking forward to some extra warmth.

The only people in denial are the politicians and activists who blithely swan around travelling Business class (Hey, what about their CO2 emissions, huh?) and never actually step outside for long enough to see that all their prognostications of doom are as valid as those made by some uneducated backwoods Bible thumper. And these bastards are robbing John Q Public and telling everyone it’s for their own good, and other like bollocks.

There is an upside to all this snow and ice, and I think it’s worthy of a mention. There’s a tiny colony of wolves on an island (Isle Royale – Google it) in Lake Michigan who since the 1940′s have rarely been able to get to the mainland. As a result they have suffered terribly from the misfortunes of inbreeding. Now there have been reports that some of them are on the move over the ice and looking for fresh realms to inhabit. Although one is reported to have perished recently on the mainland, others may have made the same journey and survived. The Spring thaw will tell.

A conspiracy theory everyone can believe in

Awoke this morning to brilliant sunshine and mini avalanches sliding off the roof, thumping loudly onto the deck like bankers committing suicide. I think one of these slides may have taken four metres of guttering with it, so will report to the landlord. No biggie.

Now this is interesting. Over at ZeroHedge I read this, then went here to get the full skinny.

While these revelations are all very sinister and discomfitting, and as I’ve noted before, if the security services are out looking for trouble they’ll find it everywhere. Ultimately this gives you the uncomfortable feeling that we are all potential ‘targets’. Reminds me of working a particularly tough street where you knew the insults and abuse were going to start flying at some stage. Only to find the abuse throwers turn out to be the very people tasked with keeping the peace. Although they will claim not to be. Which raises the question; how is anyone to tell friend from foe any more? Because at the moment there is a distinct feeling going around that those supposedly tasked with public protection are actually the bad guys. Especially when one hears tales from our cousins in the south about getting put on by the tax man for being critical of the current administration.

What a chilling thought.

I’m also given to think now that this querulous moggy is well and truly out of the bag, every sad little troll who doesn’t like what someone says will start making sly asides, trying to give the impression that they’re working for the security services. Who have guns. The trolls aren’t and haven’t. There’s simply too much information out there, and security budgets are not unlimited. The tactics outlined will only be implemented by government agencies against hard targets with inimical intent. Or someone who annoys a politician. Or… oh dear. Imagination brake failure! O. M. G! Don’t panic. Don’t panic!

Seriously though. In the end it all boils down to trust. If you can’t trust the people tasked with public protection to mind their own gosh-darned business in their own country, who can you have faith in? No wonder other countries are laying cables, building their own Internets and people are developing ‘Blackphones‘.

This does not change my mind about the rest of the conspiracy theories, faked moon landings, flat Earth, 911 false flag, Area 51, aliens, man made global warming. They’re still all bunk.

To close;

Really scary stuff

We’re looking at our UK based savings following the revelations about Eurozone banks being due to take a Cyprus style ‘Savings Haircut’ on depositor accounts which don’t seem to be idle gossip. HSBC have clamped down on big bank transfers for fear of a ‘run’ on their accounts. Royal Bank of Scotland is 8 billion in the hole. That’s sterling, not dollars by the way. Several Russian banks are in the Ca-ca and preventing depositor withdrawals. Fortunately we use none of these, but there’s a suspicion that despite bail outs, most of the banking sector is in deep, deep trouble. Guess who’s going to end up paying? You’ll need a mirror to find out.. Take your time.

The current UK ‘recovery’ is running on the back of yet another housing led bubble-boom. Which brings me to ask; does nobody learn from History, even recent History, any more? There was the housing boom and bust of the early 1990′s, 2007, and now this time. It truly fits the definition of insanity, making the same old mistakes in the same old ways and expecting different results. Pass the straitjacket matron.

All this bank piracy makes me want to buy a boat and stock up on dry goods before taking an extended trip around the world. Although we’d avoid the Philippines, Suez and East and West Africa all the way south to the Seychelles. Apparently the Pirates down there are using ‘Mother Ships’ to run small groups of raiding craft. None of ‘em look like Johnny Depp either.But they look nothing like real pirates Or the recent revelations that the Mexican Government is seizing tourist vessels over seventy buck permits.

From piracy on your hard earned savings to piracy on the high seas and even in tourist marinas, it doesn’t leave you with many options, does it?

Have yourself a Merry……. Elf ‘n safetee

During the Winter holiday season, all personnel and visitors are requested to note the following:

Please be advised that all persons planning to dash through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh, going over fields and laughing all the way are required to undergo a Risk Assessment addressing the safety of open sleighs. This assessment must also consider whether it is appropriate to use only one horse for such a venture, particularly where there are multiple passengers. Unlicensed carriers will be reported to the local licensing authority, and fixed penalties will be applied. Horses are liable to seizure by animal protection should Inspectors deem that overloading has occurred.

Please note that permission must also be obtained in writing from landowners before their fields may be entered. To avoid offending those not participating in celebrations, we request that laughter is moderate only and not loud enough to be considered a noise nuisance. All resultant manure must be collected and disposed of in the appropriate recycle facility. Seat restraints must be worn.

Benches, stools and orthopaedic chairs are now available for collection by any shepherds planning or required to watch their flocks at night.

While provision has also been made for remote monitoring of flocks by CCTV cameras from a centrally heated shepherd observation hut, all facility users are reminded that an emergency response plan must be submitted to account for known risks to the flocks.

The Angel of the Lord is additionally reminded that prior to shining his/her glory all around he/she must confirm that all shepherds are wearing appropriate Personal Protective Equipment to account for the harmful effects of UVA, UVB and the overwhelming effects of Glory. Untrained personnel are restricted from this activity.

Following last year’s well publicised case, everyone is advised that EC legislation prohibits any comment with regard to the redness of any part of Mr. R. Reindeer. Further to this, exclusion of Mr. R Reindeer from reindeer games will be considered discriminatory and disciplinary action will be taken against those found guilty of this offence.

While it is acknowledged that gift-bearing is commonly practised in various parts of the world, particularly the Orient, everyone is reminded that the bearing of gifts is subject to Hospitality Guidelines and all gifts must be registered. This applies regardless of the individual, even royal personages.

It is particularly noted that direct gifts of currency or gold are specifically precluded under provisions of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. Such gifts must be declared in advance on page 193 of personal tax declarations. Being a King, regardless of qualification, does not qualify for exemption.

Furthermore, caution is advised regarding other common gifts, such as aromatic resins that may initiate allergic reactions. These must be supervised by an appropriately trained First Aider prior to receipt.

Finally, in the recent case of the infant found tucked up in a manger without any crib for a bed; Social Services have been advised and will be arriving shortly.

Merry Christmas,
Risk Management Team

Shamelessly nicked and adapted from Theo Spark

Ten? reasons to hate and love Christmas (Redux)

I know I said I was gone forever, but the time of year has come when it must be said once more. Less than a month to go again and I’m seriously tempted to renew my membership of the Ebenezer Scrooge appreciation society. Bah! Humbug! If this offends, tough. Should objectors wish to drive a stake through my black and sardonic heart, I’d like to say the only steak I want anywhere near said muscular pump is a nice thick rib eye with a smidgeon of external charring and light pinkness enlightening its centre. Possibly even with a little Dijon Mustard. As it passes through the upper reaches of my digestive tract, having left fond memories with my taste buds, naturally.

The festival itself I have no quarrel with; good old hijacked midwinter solstice feast that it is. A time of good food, wine and forgiveness to celebrate survival for another year. Good will to all? Within reason, of course, and certainly not all of them. I’m not going to be nice to the cretinous, no matter the time of year. Heavens to Murgatroyd Cowboy, one has to maintain some form of consistency. What really turns my normal sunny disposition to that of lemon sucking misanthrope is the insistence that everyone has to join in the ‘fun’; when ‘fun’ entails leaving drunken saliva snail trails over the nearest total stranger. Good grief! If nothing else it’s all so damned unhygienic. Not to mention more than slightly creepy.

With this in mind I have compiled ten major issues about Christmas which every year threaten to turn Mr Nice Guy (Me) into a raging homicidal psychopath who’s just got his chainsaw out of the shed for a little pre-festive flesh trimming.

First; Date. The date and the association with Christianity is incorrect. 25th December is the wrong date for Christians to celebrate Christmas. It’s an historical fudge, a compromise between 6th December, 19th December, 22nd December, 7th January or 25th January depending upon which Christian / Pagan sect you belong to. As for the year, if you’re a Christian, about as close as you’ll get is six years either side of 0 AD; and that’s just from official sources.

Second; Presents and shopping. This asinine insistence that you have to drive yourself into near bankruptcy giving overpriced, unwanted gifts to everyone you know. This may sound like heresy and probably is; but I would rather have no gifts at all than a gift without a genuine kind thought behind it. I especially don’t like being dragged in and out of the same five or six stores four times each only to find that we could have bought everything on line. I could have been doing something interesting for heavens sake.

Third; Enforced jollity. There is no greater torture to a civilised mind than forcing another human to ‘enjoy’ themselves against their natural volition. My personal standpoint is that I am quite capable of being happy without outside interference thank you very much. My major dread is that in the near future the PC Thought Police will deem it a crime not to be smiling and joyful at mandatory times and places. Perhaps in this age of mass surveillance and facial recognition technology, such edicts may become camera enforced. Like with bus lanes. Not smiling enough? Your penalty notice is in the post. Ironically giving you less reason to be happy than before. Incidentally, has anyone tried to be artificially happy and smiling, at least for any length of time, when they really don’t want to be without extreme chemical assistance? That way lies madness. Horrified shudder.

Fourth; Inappropriate headgear. The wearing of fluorescent antlers, tinsel and artificial fur bobbled conical hats three sizes too small, not to mention those inane ‘jester’ style confections made of poor quality red, yellow and green felt with bells on. Apparently there’s some strange, arcane folk belief that wearing such headgear actually makes everything you say and do amusing. Such as telling unfunny jokes, committing random sexual assaults or urinating in the street. Trust me, it doesn’t work. Strangely enough, recent scholarly research has conclusively proven that the majority of people donning such headgear instantly turn into annoying pillocks. Forcing your dog / cat / pet tarantula to wear any such item should instantly engender an instant charge of animal cruelty punishable by thirty strokes of the cat (A bad tempered feral Tom, for preference. One tail, twenty claws.) Re the headgear, perhaps some sort of open season / bounty system could be arranged with local hunters.

Fifth; Alcohol. Actually this is a bit of a moot point. I am greatly in favour of some forms of alcohol as it is a great social lubricant (I said SOCIAL. Honestly, some people.). A good pint, bottle of wine, or warming Single Malt in good company is wonderfully relaxing. Sometimes I can be very friendly with an entire bottle of whiskey all to myself. This is something anyone can do anywhere. Sometimes its nice just to hide in the den with a good book, headphones on and some rock music blasting any potentially festive thoughts from seasonally stressed synapses. However be warned; excessive consumption not only damages your liver and wallet but may turn you into another dribbling maudlin festive idiot.

Sixth; Office / work related parties. Or as Oscar Wilde might have said had he ever been forced to attend; ‘The unattainable pursued by the unlovable’. Watching what you drink in case you say exactly what you feel to / about your boss or other influential colleague; no matter how incompetent / unpleasant / overbearing they might be. I detest such events and whenever invited to ‘socialise’ in this fashion with workmates make a creative and plausible excuse not to be there. Ones I’ve found that work very well are; Emergency engagement with family, as far from the event as possible; sick and very rich relatives are always a good one. Short and untraceable illness like a 24 hour dose of food poisoning. Domestic emergency requiring your urgent presence at home – all of these are good (Spousal corroboration is prerequisite for the last). One cautionary note, use a different excuse every year or be labelled ‘Anti Christmas’ and find all those more important invitations disappear. Unless you’re going to move on anyway. In which case – Just say no. What are they going to do in these circumstances? Fire you?

Seventh; Christmas lunch. All that hard work put in to produce a table groaning feast to be met by refusal. For example an announcement by your wife’s sister / daughter (insert own preference here) that she’s become a Vegan without telling anyone; then flounces off when you, quite reasonably, refuse to specially cook a nut roast for everyone at five minutes notice because she can’t bear to be within fifty yards of that poor murdered Turkey. Another might be the kids whinging that they want to go to Burger MacWossnames for a “double death by cholesterol and fries”; refusing to eat anything green that hasn’t got four kilogrammes of sugar in it. I think Christmas lunches should be all ticket, invitation only affairs. RSVP Like a posh dinner party. If you want to be there, be there. If you don’t – don’t, and no social stigma should attach.

Eighth; Christmas Television. Especially those vomit inducing saccharine Coca Cola adverts. The endless mind strangling TV repeats of Christmas specials of ‘Only Fools and Horses’, and what’s going on in Emmerdale Enders. ‘The Sound of Music’ again. ‘Celebrity’ Christmas specials. Thank God for DVD’s. Don’t even get me started about Hogmanay specials. All I want from New Years Eve is a hot toddy, an early night and a clear head on a crisp winters morning, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Ninth; Christmas Songs. All of them. Especially (In no particular order) Slade’s ‘So here it is Merry Christmas’, Band Aid’s ‘Do they know it’s Christmas time’ and Aled Jones ‘Walking in the air’. When you’ve heard them sung extremely badly four or five hundred times by drunken cracked voices at up to half past four in the morning, you’ll agree all modern Christmas tunes should be banned by international treaty. I maintain that Christmas songs are crimes against humanity, and perpetrators should be tried at the Hague before being imprisoned for mass musicide. This goes for New Year celebrations as well; if I had a time machine I’d go back and shoot Robbie Burns dead before he could pen the words to ‘Auld lang’s syne‘. Posterity forgives the odd dead poet.

Tenth; Carol Singers. Not proper Carol Singers like in church choirs, they’re actually fairly pleasant and welcome in small doses. I’m talking about the avaricious little sods who turn up on your doorstep for a quick bit of extortion a month before the official date. I think we’re all familiar with this subtype of troglodyte; expecting you to give them money for an abysmal and desultory one chorus rendition of ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas’ when half of them don’t know the words and the rest are miming. Some years ago I handed out some warmed over vegetarian mince pies to the last lot who dared darken my doorstep, and joy of joys, haven’t seen any since.

Eleventh: Christmas lights. Well this is more ambivalence than dislike. Done well, hey, fine. It’s your electricity bill. Done badly, with lots of cheesy illuminated Walmart Santas, Snowmen and Reindeer, urgh. Seriously. It’s embarrassing. Don’t do it. Likewise decorating things that aren’t yours. No please. If your sense of taste is that stunted, it’s wise not to show it off in public. People will only point and laugh.

The above list is nowhere near definitive as I’m sure many of you can come up with your own reasons for wanting to spend your midwinter holiday overseas. The nicest Christmas day I ever spent was alone with my wife in Barcelona. Messing around in near deserted streets like a couple of school kids and getting soaked in a torrential downpour. No cooking, no turkey, wonderful Irish coffee in a bar where the staff were grooving energetically to Ricky Martins ‘La vida loca’ full blast on the sound system. Ganneting a quarter kilo of ‘Chocolat Naranja’ between us while drying out, watching an unfestive CNN News in the Hotel room. No tinsel, no tackiness and a thoroughly civilised time was had by both of us. A close second was a Spa break in BC having a (Sort of) merry detox with several bottles of eminently quaffable 2009 Quails Gate Proprietors Reserve pinot noir. No TV, in room Jacuzzi and no bloody tinsel. Bliss.

What do they do with it all?

There’s been a fair bit of whining in the UK press by various jackboot apologists complaining that various parties don’t pay ‘their fair share’ of tax. Yet as I recall, even when we lived in that beknighted part of the world, I calculated that sixty percent of all our joint outgoings went into the massively inefficient state sausage machine. Sure, we got a little back in child benefit and odds and ends, but when we had to spend it, tranches went in paying tax on those necessary purchases like stuff for school, clothing, food etc, so we were really no better off. Proportionately speaking, our overall disposable income shrank, year on year.

Let me essay an example here; say you want to send a Christmas present to friends or family to and within the UK. Base cost of purchase will invoke various taxes including VAT, yet every component on your heartfelt generosity is already stained with the patina of tax. Raw materials are taxed, the employees are taxed, employers / employees NHI, property taxes / business rates, tax on energy and energy usage, it all mounts up. despite tax breaks, there is no such thing as ‘revenue neutral’. On anything. The taxman bites everywhere. Argue all you want. Dig a little, and the levels of taxation become obvious.

Like a leech, the tax take affects everything, even indirectly by putting up a manufacturers or distributors costs. The price of gasoline (Petrol) increases, so does the proportionate tax. Therefore the cost of anything that needs to be transported or made goes up and inflation increases. This is economics kindergarten, or 101 as they say over here.

Okay, so that’s established how thoroughly the UK is taxed, both directly and indirectly. Only barter between neighbours and growing your own from your own seed remains untouched. For how long this state of affairs continues is anyone’s guess, considering the current desperation of the UK taxman.

So; my heading question remains. What does the UK Government do with your hard earned? Well, there’s the basics. The NHS, which currently employs about 1.18 million people (1.1 million of whom are classed as “Non clinical” Official figures for August 2012 from here). In 1995, the total health budget came in at 46.1 Billion. 2000 was 49.6 Billion. 2005, 82.9 Billion. 2010, 118.2 Billion. 2011, 121.3 Billion. figures from here, which are culled from official sources.

What else? Lobbying itself via certain QUANGO’s and NGO’s which are basically jobs for family and friend to pay off, or buy political favours. Spends it on unnecessary things even the most bling obsessed shopping junkie might say “Whoa, that’s a bit pricey, innit?”. Like IT projects to monitor everyone’s movements / financial transactions / Internet use. Gets the country involved in expensive wars, then lets the enemy in through the back door and can’t or won’t chuck them out because of their ‘ooman rights’. Wastes it on boondoggles. The list is almost, but not quite infinite. Not to mention having such a complex compliance culture that everything, including Nietzsche’s ‘raising of the wrist’ costs multiples of it’s base cost. Which the taxpayer has to stump up for. Even then they will rarely get it right.

Which rather answers a couple of questions; “What do they spend it all on?” and “What cuts?” The figures speak for themselves. Yet they want more? Crazy. What happened to the ‘Bonfire of the Quangos? Amongst all the other promises.

Simplistic but pithy

This Land Is Mine from Nina Paley on Vimeo.

Cartoon characters dramatis personae on this blog post. Yes, it’s not totally historically accurate, but that’s just nit-picking. Whenever I lurk past a blog touching on the perennial troubles in the Eastern Med, I’m forever amazed at the virulence of the far left and right on this topic. Not that there’s any real difference between either viewpoint, totalitarians to a knuckledragger that they are.

By way of comparison; in some pubs I frequented in my youth, mainly in certain University towns, simply uttering the word ‘Israel’ loudly in particular bars was, and probably still is, enough to start a fight. It rather reminds me of the mindless tribalism that goes on around football teams. An old friend of mine claimed he occasionally did this sort of thing for fun, but then he really liked fighting and beating the shit out of people. He was good at it; no names, no pack drill, and I know for a fact he once hospitalised a black belt because his opponent thought that a pub car park brawl worked the same way as a dojo. Newsflash; for anyone tempted to try it, it doesn’t. The same rules do not apply because there aren’t any. Visit any inner city Emergency department late on a Saturday night or early hours of Sunday morning for proof.

Yet I never understood why the existence of Israel as a nation is so offensive to those without obvious skin in the game. Why they were often willing to pitch into a scrap with a far more aggressive and experienced bar fighter over a country they really knew bugger all about, and never been to. I freely admit to knowing little about the region apart from that they’ve always been fighting.

Nina Paley’s video above rather puts this endless aggression into perspective. People have been so busy fighting over that particular chunk of real estate (And over the religions from that area) for so long, I think they’ve forgotten how to stop. You’d think after over four millennia of ping pong like mayhem people would learn. You know, maybe all the various parties could decide that the near constant killing is just pointless and decide simply trying to co-exist for a change. Do business. Do what the Zionists started, which is actually buy title to the land and sell stuff. Own it that way. On the other hand, I think that just shows pointless naivete and optimism on my part. Like Kashmir and any one of a dozen other semi-permanent war zones around the globe, fighting and killing is too ingrained as part of the way of life. The killing would continue regardless of any rationalising self justification or holy book, or lack thereof.

As the video predicts; if matters continue in the current vein, no doubt it will all end in tears, and any ‘victory’ will be cataclysmically Pyrrhic. For all concerned. Yet perhaps there is hope.

All the aforementioned gives me an idea; maybe if the various peoples involved turned their semi-permanent war into some kind of regular sporting fixture. Level the playing field. Pile a load of weapons and ammo in the middle of a football stadium or other large sporting venue, then let the interested parties have at it in private four times a year. Maybe even wall off a section of city too polluted or unpleasant for habitation, and Robert would be your Fathers brother, so to speak. Stick webcams all around and sell the rights, world wide. Think of the advertising revenue. Maybe even run a league. Let Simopn Cowell do a show on it; hey, perhaps call it ‘The Mayhem factor’. Each faction could put up a team, Hamas, IDF, Hezbollah, Orthodox and Armenian denominations, whoever, and the team with the most members still standing after three days wins. Perhaps some form of trophy could be arranged? A years free access for their followers to worship in the dome of the rock or something of that ilk. Televise said fixture and licence William Hill to run a book on the result. At least civilian casualties could be minimised, and since some of the current Palestinian factions seem to have an odd notion of what constitutes ‘fun’ anyway. Unless of course it involves religion and killing. Remember the theme park incident? Family fun is ‘un-Islamic’? WTF?

Apply to any war zone. Agree factions. Seal off limited area, give unlimited ammo, and let the games commence. It might just save the world.