My car is just a car, and it's nothing like a Golf.

Is it a quest? Am I in search of some modern version of, or alternative to, the Holy Grail? Am I driven, or compelled, by the challenges set before me?

Well, no, no and… probably no (I think). I do however believe, and with a burning sense of self-assuredness, that the Britain we think we know and understand is changing more quickly than we can possibly fathom, in ways that most of us can be only vaguely aware of, for the betterment of… well, it certainly ain't us, that's for sure. I don't lay claims to a greater or deeper insight than the next person, maybe just a shorter fuse!

While we're on the subject, I regard this as a duty; I definitely am not 'loving it'. As far as the research goes, 'every little helps' does not concur with my findings to date. That 'little extra' has contrived to be anything other than little or extra- or helpful. 'I'm worth it' has proven to be so far from the truth that words (almost) fail me. Far too frequently, I have found that it damn well does not 'do what it says on the tin'. And should I choose to call anybody about the matter 'who am I gonna call?' Well, it most certainly won't be '118 118'. So far, and with all things considered, I don't believe that I can 'feel the difference'. I have found it to be resoundingly the case that 'impatience is (not) a virtue'. And, as I look ahead, I can say, with an element of certainty, that 'the future is (not) orange'- undeniably something from a wider palette, a tertiary maybe, a very dark brown for instance. Oh, and my car is 'just a car', it is not 'an extension of my personality'.

Advertising, enriching the language of Shakespeare? Or conceivably not...

'Perfect' placement.

I absolutely love music, can’t get enough of it. At home, in the car, via the i-pod, when in the city or about town; there’s just so much talent out there. Whether it’s delving deep into the past, in order to unearth some previously unheard requiem, listening spellbound to the haunting strains of a newly discovered African oud player or just revisiting old favourites from the sixties, it often really doesn’t seem to matter.

I would say that music is one of my true passions. Therefore, it might seem somewhat strange to here read that it is also one of my pet hates. Or conceivably not. A love of something would necessarily hone and perfect one’s appreciation of such, would it not, leading one towards an ever greater discernment for what feels ‘right’ for one's self.



Atmosphere by Niall McAuley's photostream

Were you to stop me in the street or driving in my car you would not have the first clue as to what my particular taste in music was, that is unless you already knew me and had had the distinct ‘misfortune’ to have listened to me banging on about this artist or that composition, or the particular resonance of a favourite instrument. My music would not have been permitted to encroach upon your day.

You see, that’s really the thing about music, at its very best it’s sometimes going to be quite personal. Areas of common ground probably, but in the fine detail it’s got to be personal, hasn’t it, appreciated and listened to largely on a personal basis, at a volume that reflects particularly this aspect of its choosing? That, of course, is not to say that some people will not also choose to listen to their particular choice of music collectively, amongst others who will have chosen to do likewise.

So now allow me to attempt to explain also my absolute loathing for music. Surely I cannot be alone in recognising that music is an art form and, as such, cannot be loved, or even liked, by everyone when represented in just one dominant, invariably rather mediocre, form.

So, as I was attempting to explain, why a loathing for music, or some forms thereof? Allow me, if you will, to transport you back to your last telephone call to any company. Recall, if you can, the imposed music that was piped down the line as substitute for the interpersonal contact you were perhaps hoping for. Or permit me to remind you of your last shopping trip, where you may have been subjected to constant assault by the musical preferences of someone-else-entirely. Or maybe last Friday night’s strained attempts at conversation, over the foot-stomping beat offered as pub ‘atmosphere.’ Picky, you’re thinking. Maybe you had assumed that your hearing had somehow taught itself to become more attuned to TV advertisements or that it was a fault with the volume control of the same said set?



And again from Mr. Greenjeans' photostream

Maybe some people would have ‘chosen’ those very ‘musical' scores, with which to have approached each individual task. Maybe I’m wrong. It’s possible but, then again, most unlikely!

What about the ear-splitting (don’t you even dare contemplate starting a meaningful conversation) bursts of drum’n’bass (is it?) that ‘have to’ fill the ‘void’ between every point in Davis Cup Tennis, or the ‘humorously’ chosen snippets that follow every wicket during the One Day Cricket Internationals? Who are we catering for; those who want to follow the tennis or the cricket are already there? Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me that we are trying to bring other civilized sports into line with the ‘needs’ of the football-type supporter! Sport for the attention deficit hyperactivity disorder spectator?



Atmosphere we can all do without from perldude's photostream

I feel that I must warn, again, of the ease with which such minds are subjected to the advertiser's whim, and of the related mind-wash that is currently rife already within 'our' lives. Music is a powerful and a  curiously dangerous tool. You would no more leave the likes of a Robbie Williams or some gun-toting rap 'artist' in charge of such than you would leave a baby alone with a razor-sharp kitchen knife- contemplate the carnage that either decision might cause!

Recognise, if you will, where such evident damage has already occurred! The youthful driver, with those vacant eyes and skewed baseball cap, that half-threatening yet terminally confused frown, window down, perhaps the ‘delicate’ strains of some rap (surely a spelling error) ‘artist’ ‘wafting gently’ outwards, ‘selling’ the ‘virtues’ of mob violence, before going on to clarify that said ‘artist’ has not yet grasped the simple definition of a word like 'respec(T)' (and surely yet another spelling error).

Which will live on longer in the memory, we are forced to consider, the imposed thrum of the bass behind the rant, or the guttural roar of the lad’s new exhaust that seems to have evaded any social requirement to considerate driving? Listen on and you may be able to track his journey for a further mile or so, before he is usurped by the next unwitting advertisement on wheels. Worryingly the link in this paragraph is to a US site, at least there the problem has been acknowledged. Meanwhile, here in the UK?



Encore Jeremy by boxchain's photostream

And that, I’m afraid, is it. Advertising, impure and simple, leaking into our lives, just like all that mercury at Minamata Bay, that seeped so venomously into the lives and bodies of all those unfortunate villagers.

It would appear that frequently the loudest of ‘musical’ impositions is selected from the very narrowest of ‘musical’ choices- perhaps from one of those cloned commercial stations, revolving around the same wafer thin selection of music industry imposed ‘tunes'. Maybe the rap number that we are ‘encouraged’ to listen to is the current cloned ‘identity’ of rebellious youth, either way the 'choice' was almost certainly an illusion, no more than blatant product placement upon an almost inert 'vehicle'. Whether that vehicle is a current sporting fixture, or the challenged intellect of a mobile youth, it makes little difference.



Yet more from Robbie Howell's photostream

Whether the roar of that surely illegal exhaust is being endorsed by the ‘razor-sharp intellect’ of Jeremy Clarkson or just ‘Darren’ (Dazza to his ‘mates’) from down the road the differences are separable solely through the turgidity of semantics. It's no more than product placement by those with huge vested interests, the Motor Trade or the Music Industry, sales figures are, as ever, ultimately the bottom line.

And you thought that Clarkson was 'speaking his mind'; you thought he didn't reap certain rewards for all that screaming product placement? I wonder if he might have chosen to reside somewhere where idiots like himself might roar past the house at any time of the day or night, or else somewhere that he doesn't have to put up with morons like himself?

In effect what he appears more than happy to perpetuate is a world where outrageous driving is almost endemic, just so long as he is able to comfortably cushion himself from these excesses; a sort of stuff you outlook.



And yet again from estherase's photostream

Has nobody explained to him the psychological and physiological impacts of this type of sustained noise upon the human mind? The softer the brain the more compliant to the advertiser's influence it will become. Beware!

No place for bullying, honestly.

Could it be right that we are that close to fully eliminating bullying from 'our' ‘Golden’ Isle that some might be forgiven for assuming it to have already been achieved? Is bullying really now so very rare, thanks to the ‘heartfelt commitments’ of a ‘successful government’? If so maybe bullying will be the future subject of countless documentary programmes upon the History Channel, celebrating the great strides that Britain has made in banishing this ‘unwelcome imposter’ from our shores. Maybe we will be able to collectively reminisce about its passing, promising never again to fall foul of the same basic errors.



Thanks to Alta Vista's photostream

Or maybe it’s all just so much tosh! Who’s to say?

Maybe young Francesca and her ‘over-reactive’ mother, Fiona, really were just victims of a tragic ‘misunderstanding’; maybe the local police force really had done all that could be reasonably expected of them; maybe the local youths, alluded to in news reports, really were just doing ‘kiddy type stuff’ before returning to their ‘loving homes’ where their ‘caring parents’ would want to know exactly where they had been and precisely what they’d been doing. Maybe!



Perfectly illustrated by Nightwatching's photostream

Maybe! Strangely (or not) my fingers quite literally hesitated over the keys before typing that word. Because anyone who lives outside of those more ‘respectable’ areas of town, or has ever found themselves passing through such a ‘less affluent’ area will quickly have gathered enough evidence to know that ‘maybe’ simply does not apply here.

No doubt, perhaps care of ‘The Daily Mail’, certain individuals will have endeavoured to deflect the blame from its rightful recipients- social workers are always an easy target, or perhaps the local schools- but, I suspect, when we are left alone with our consciences, where the dark angels of truth lurk in readiness, we all really ‘know’ more or less what has happened. Indeed, some of us might, even now be regular witness to similar incidents in or adjacent to our own streets and ‘communities’.



Sadly illustrated so well by Diesel Dan's photostream

When so many of us are subjected to, or witness to, the sort of ‘covert’ bullying that has been well and truly cemented into the very foundations of our society is it really any surprise that some of our social inadequates might be slightly confused over the ‘acceptable’ application of this ‘essential tool’ in their own lives and neighbourhoods?

Who amongst us, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, having had one of those days at the office, hasn’t felt like burning our own living flesh to a lifeless charred mess? As the police have already made clear, they probably overreacted.

No place for bullying

Every school, we are assured, is required by law to devise and 'operate' an anti-bullying policy. The number of Head teachers lining up to state that, ‘this school does not tolerate bullying,’ is matched only by those eager to point out that, ‘every school has its ‘fair’ share of bullying.’ And thank Christ too, if the little innocents that are being readied for the real world are going to stand the slightest chance of surviving out there, in the grown-up's world. This way some at least, with the capacity to evade this 'noble' yet almost unenforceable goal, may learn a fair deal about the ‘successful’ application of this much used tool in the British workplace.



Thanks to DVIDSHUB's photostream

I would imagine that you, like me, chuckle conspiratorially along with each new government initiative. There are, after all, enough of these- like raindrops amid the monsoon season- to keep us busy, should we regard them as ‘chuckling’ material. The public sector ‘initiatives’ alone are enough to almost perpetually keep us doubled up.

I have considered, rather more thoroughly, however, the ‘initiative’ (not really the right word, is it?) of attempting to ‘stamp out’ bullying in our schools, especially in the light of that claimed attempt to ‘fully equip’ our children for adulthood.



Much thanks to Joriel "Joz" Jimenez's photostream

You see, what we actually have here is an impasse; in this case an insurmountable Everest of a task! It need not be, but unless the old ‘enemy’, honesty, is permitted to re-enter the wider debate any achievable solution can only ever be an illusion.

The thrusting entrepreneurial race, a daily more 'revered' minority within 'our society', are far more direct creatures, in this respect. They would endeavour to 'misunderstand' the current societal ‘need’ for such an oxymoronic pretence. Imagine, were such a thing possible, a 'free-flowing', 'open', 'honest' and 'bully-free' monetarist state; where could one even begin to dig out the flaws from this kind of false ‘aspiration?’



Nicely illustrated by psilver (silverph)'s photstream

Would it be naïve to suggest that we might start by analysing the relative methods of motivation that are routinely employed within 'our society'? I can sense that ol’ ‘relative size’ issue raising its head yet again. ‘Remuneration commensurate with the efforts, application and achievements of the individual,’ it all sounds so reasonable doesn’t it? But, let’s look a little more closely at this ‘ideal,’ shall we?

On the one hand we have those banker chaps- almost bankrupted the continent, didn’t they?- with the covert protection of our 'democratically elected' (that doesn’t sound quite right) leader, arguing so vehemently that these ‘role models’ should be free to determine their own reward system. Correct me please, but I thought I’d read somewhere that that idea had failed quite spectacularly just a short while ago.

On the other hand we have those employed to educate our children and grandchildren, set to be judged biannually by Ofsted and again annually through their relative placings in National League Tables. On top of this we have the spiteful misnomer of the General Teaching Council, applying themselves continually to the rather saturated task of finding continual fault with sections of the profession, a tabloid media that has made a virtual vocation of condemning anything public sector and a government whose first ‘commitment’ to the nation’s educational system was to appoint, as Head of Ofsted, a man who, with a heart fashioned from solid cold flint, seemed to defy the fundamental criteria for even being accepted into the outer fringes of the human race. I wonder if the workers in the teaching profession will also be permitted to write their own pay cheques? I’m guessing not.



Perfect illustrated by spierzchala's photostream

‘Remuneration commensurate with the efforts, application and achievements of the individual,’ discuss!

Size really does matter.

Small is small is small, unless it is too big, in which case it needs to be made smaller still. And yet, strangely, it is still 'sold' to those without the means to question as being large enough.

Small might be particularly pertinent to the those residing in some sort of invertebrate dimension. But, inevitably, within our's, it is really only as pertinent as we allow it to become in order to perceive that which we had hoped to comprehend.



Thankyou Whatknot's photostream

I have noticed much of late that might be judged differently from another perspective and have greatly pondered the effect that this might have upon the ways in which we could be regarded by another species, if at all. I have wondered, for example, why it might be that certain factions within our ‘society’ choose to pretend that their legs are only half their actual length, when such a sacrifice of dignity might cause them to waddle about with underwear exposed. Are they not aware that such perceptions are peculiarly semi-human and that, as such, more attuned 'outsiders' might harbour entirely different perceptions

I have noticed also the minuteness of the so called ‘incentives’, proffered to ordinary people. One example might be the ‘Investors in People’ 'award' that seems to require absolutely no qualifying criteria other than the simple request that the workplace might wish to display such a cheaply reproduced cut of card upon its reception wall, where it may well languish until the building simply crumbles into the dust along with its already half-forgotten workforce.

Somewhat ironically it might then finally be permitted to fulfil some sort of function, perhaps as damp food for any number of detritivores that could end up inhabiting the derelict sight. ‘Investors in People’, suitably ‘large’ when considered from the perspective of the employer, or conceivably the feasting detritivore, yet not so much far smaller as absolutely insignificant when received by the employees. The vagaries of perception may, at times, prove more than a puzzle to the best of us.



Thanks to FatMandy's photostream

The speeding fine, to sight yet another example, could be perceived as huge or minute, highly dependent upon the relative income of the offender. To one it might equate to ‘this week’s food upon the table,’ to another ‘an insignificant aberration that might pass unquestioned upon an expenses form.’ I suppose that almost any fine might be perceived in such a way. I wonder why ‘nobody’ has ever thought to question this inequality.

The CBI- The Confederation of British Industry- that body of ‘great and wise’ men by whom we are all regarded as ‘deeply loved and cherished children’, despite their ‘unparalleled intellect’, have recently ‘tripped up’ over seemingly the simplest of mathematical conundrums. Once again that issue over ‘smallness' has raised its head. I feel almost too embarrassed to have to point it out to them, knowing full well that, once I have done so, they will believe that they have failed in their responsibilities towards their 'fellow' citizens; such is their care ethic!



Perfect from striatic's photostream

From their 'elevated' perspectives they have sought to enter the national debate regarding the economy. Usually, of course, they are more than 'happy' to leave this to others, loathe to rock the boat as it were. They have employed their pocket calculators to the full and made a few minor suggestions regarding student debt. Correct me if I am wrong but I believe they have suggested an increase in tuition fees, but have sought to 'offset' this against a reduction in student loans, no doubt concerned as to the impact of such transactions upon their own ‘small’ (that word again) remunerations.

I suspect that what the old ‘loves’ have done is to view the student debt from the perspective of their 'own kind'- paid off before even incurred- and altogether overlooked the impact of this same ‘small sum’ upon the lives of many ordinary people. I suspect that we’ll all be able to laugh about this, as one big ‘happy, united family,’ in a few weeks time.



Familiar smile from bigeoiino's photostream

Of course, they are 'right,' the sums we are talking about really are so very, very small when perceived from the perspective of a multi-millionaire who might readily fiddle his or her taxes to a ‘small’ degree. Sorry, I did mean to say, ‘embellish.'

Please note that ‘small’ in this context really is not small, regardless of where it is being viewed from.

Size really doesn't matter.

Small… but how small is small? Is it really as small as it appears or is it just more far away than currently perceived? Isn't it all simply relative to the context of the situation anyway?

After a short walk several weekends ago I removed a massive stone from my left shoe, before squeezing into my compact Ford motor vehicle. When I held the offending stone up to the light of the sun, betwixt my thumb and forefinger, I found that I was able to completely block out the sun from my right eye, if I held the stone close enough to my face. Perceiving this minute aspect of our world, via just two dimensions, might pose several difficult questions; thus the necessity for a third.



Much thanks to Rich B-S' photostream

The ladybirds, upon which I could not help but tread, during the aforementioned walk, were (and are) minute, but try explaining that to the aphids, upon which they feast. We, on the other hand, are massive yet insignificant- really not 'worth it'- upon a tiny pebble in space, revolving about a flaming furnace that is a million times larger than our ‘home.’

The sun, by comparison, is a small star amongst billions upon billions, the largest of which is far, far less than a pinprick, lying suspended within the black void of infinite space. In some contexts even infinite might be considered as relatively small, we just can't know for certain.



Thanks to Skiwalker79's photostream

The self-serving company director (or CEO as our increasing Americanisation demands that we now refer to these individuals) is really small, when judged by our value standard, or is it just that, should we ever be unfortunate enough to encounter one, that they are actually further away than assumed, not really small at all, merely scampering- chauffeur-driven, of course- from one money making venture to another? Is it really all just a matter of inter-dimensional perspective?

I for one certainly hope that this effectively smoke-and-mirrors equation will not be judged to suffice. It took humanity right up until the times of The Renaissance to create the crudest of rules for depicting basic diminution in a linear and two-dimensional form. Fortunately the concept has evolved somewhat since then; we recognise that the lines, for want of a better term, were never really straight in the first place; or perhaps were straight, but will never actually appear so. Paolo Uccello's 'Battle of San Romano' would have benefited immensely from such an understanding. Just imagine the work that still needs to be done in order to even guess at the relative proportions of living entities existing, possibly simultaneously, in separate dimensions.

For now 'small', in all its non-specificity, may have to suffice.

I have found it 'easier'- although, in reality, far from easy- to consider the CEO as no bigger or smaller than any of his- it's almost certainly a man- fellow human beings, yet his individual actions to have assumed a disproportionately huge impact. As humans, globally speaking, are essentially small then small it should be and that is both small in physical presence and ideally in any attributable wider impact.

In this world the CEO is largely fascinated with, or satisfied by, sparkly things, items with attached financial worth, possessions, individual acts of self-centredness. I would contest that it really is no coincidence that when a CEO accidentally finds himself having to share any given space with a fellow human being that he appears to us as disproportionately small; just large enough for us to notice his seemingly ethereal physique. Somewhat ironically, this is almost certainly because he virtually lives in a parallel world, in which we are merely inconveniences that might serve an expensive meal, shine a shoe, polish a step, or indeed undertake nearly all of the actual work that has enabled said businessman to harvest such immense rewards. Were we not effectively the real earners he might by now have dissolved completely from the world that we inhabit.


Thanks to googly's photstream

Of course, it is highly unlikely that we shall ever be quite so fortunate as to witness the passing of the CEO, from our world and into his better, brighter, bigger, fresher and more lavishly-rewarded world, where he will be rather less of a bother to the rest of us. Scientifically, as our laws of science or economics operate, this world would be unsustainable, by virtue of the simple and irritable fact that he actually generates very little in the manner of genuine value, he simply takes a great deal more than he has, in fact earned.

I, personally, believe that it is only with a deeper understanding of what could actually be happening that we might finally be able to get to some form of grips with the whole sorry affair. And the root to this understanding is to be found, I would contest, in the most unlikely of sources, most unlikely.


So, journey, back with me, if you will, to the days of just the three TV stations, yet curiously a far more lavish array of entertainment, and an altogether differently structured world. Recall, if you can, the outrageously and ill-conceived diet of sci-fi that might occasionally have graced our TV screens; aliens, time and space travel and parallel universes; how we were thrilled at the idea that maybe, just maybe, one day...

But, in our heart of hearts, we all 'knew' that such was the stuff of fairy tales and make-believe, even though we might have shivered just a little in our beds, before sleep would eventually win the day. We thought we knew, didn't we, but what if the 'what we thought we knew' had transpired to be aberrant and the sound sleeping that we undertook had conspired to be founded upon false hopes? What then, eh?

Alan Guth has obviously put a great deal more thought into this kind of stuff than have I, so my references will be somewhat more brief. If you want the more thorough and well articulated version feel free to check it out, but beware the mind-numbing challenge of fully grasping the concept- don't say I didn't warn you!

Let us entertain the idea that Alan Guth is correct- remember, he's put a great deal more time and thought into this than we have, and he's got a vastly superior scientific brain. Let's ponder the 'inflationary universe', with its  growing 'bubbles' of 'false vacuum decay' and let's wander down the 'every conceivable combination of universes' theory, this being vastly the more credible of the current alternatives.

Speculate with me, for a moment, upon the infinite possibilities, just millimetres from our own world. Might it not be possible, nay highly probable, that journeying between said alternative universes is (somewhere) commonplace? Might there not be an alternative where it is possible for us all to snuffle up far more than we deserve, and to perceive such as only right and just? Imagine, slipping, unawares, from one such dimension, 'seamlessly' into another. What if? There are so many of these 'false vacuum decay' bubbles, just bumping about, so to speak; whoops and before you know it you're mere millimetres away, in a almost perfect carbon copy universe, with far from carbon copy ideals. Carry on as normal!

I believe that it is only with this deeper understanding of what is happening that I have been able to spot the little devils at all. You see, despite its almost alarming compactness, the CEO mind is deceptively arrogant in its ability to enchant that of the corruptible human; "What if that were me?" the dimwits (corruptible humans) might be forgiven for believing.

Suddenly big is not so big, rather more standard, and infinite seems suddenly relatively minute. But even within such an arrangement of conceivably infinite possibilities and infinite space, is it not undoubtedly the case that the space occupied by the CEO is still far too big?

It matters much more when there's money on it.

I think that we can all clearly see that a massive volume of disingenuous political meddling has had a most undesirable affect upon the way in which our society ‘functions.' Interrelated happenings could occasionally- and with an element of blinkered judgement- be acknowledged as subject to mitigating factors. In a few cases, it should be stated that the ‘victims’ of such abused power may be almost driven to malfunction. But, having first recognised these dark forces it must also be made clear that in most cases where the innocent citizen and politico are in some form of (for want of a better term) ‘collaboration’ the citizen has, at least in part, opted, or been somehow cajoled, into becoming involved. Whether this is because this individual is less intelligent, more corruptible or just curious, there is, almost always, a point at which they have 'chosen' to opt in or out.

Anyone doubting these assertions should avail themselves of one of the few very good books on the subject of the corporatisation of Britain. Obviously you will need to plough through a fair number of bogus claims before you may find yourself face to face with the some of the more substantial evidence, but your efforts will have been richly rewarded, and your faith left in tatters.

Having said all this there are, I’m afraid, a growing number of instances of citizen misdemeanour that simply cannot be attributed to the Councillor species. My own tenuous links with these creatures dictates that I should make this absolutely clear. I have no wish to incur their wrath through a few unthinking acts of misrepresentation. Sometimes it really is just greed that drives the citizen, impure and simple! And the more ‘money’ that there is ‘on the table’ the more it seems to ‘matter’.

Conversely, if there’s very little money riding upon the outcome it barely matters at all. And there we appear to have it, in a nutshell, the underlying government economic philosophy that has prevailed since the last days of the nineteen-seventies.

In the US, in 1980, the salary of the average Chief Executive Officer was about forty times that of his lowest paid worker. It won’t come as a great surprise to discover that this figure has grown, but maybe learning that this figure has risen to three-hundred and forty-four times will anger more than it will shock you. Anyone with half an eye on the TV news will be aware that the so called fat cats have been exponentially increasing their relative circumferences for far more than just a few years now.

Hearing this news you might choose to adopt the Daily Mail response and hedge your bets, rather than to ‘over’ analyse the issue- ever the simplistic approach. Or you might care to note that 1980- hang on, wasn’t that around the time when the British working man or woman was first encouraged to shut up and to be grateful for his/her lot (?)- 1979 actually, marked a massive global a shift in the social 'value' system.

At this point in time the old British class system dusted down and laced up its jack boots and decided to stamp upon a few 'misplaced' fingers. And sadly the poodles that have held the reigns ever since have merely allowed the inequality to accelerate. I don’t know for certain but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the wage gap is now even more pronounced in the UK.

You’ll recall that Gordon- you know, the guy that basically 'stole' all those pensions a few years back- recently made it one of his priorities at the G20 meet not to allow those upstart French and Germans to cap banking bonuses. So, I guess we can expect more of the same. Thanks, Gordon! Naturally it hurts, more than a little, when you get around to realising that the bonuses are only there because Gordon decreed that our taxes should be used to refill those troughs, right up to brim-full yet again. I think I can hear the distracting sound of snuffling, even as I type.

You see, ‘there’s money on it,’ so it must ‘matter more.’

I can think of three- no less- massive areas of financial irregularity that have been helping to shore up our country’s crumbling foundation for so long now that those with towering vested interests have been driven to- panic stations- misrepresent these areas to a degree that has long since surpassed the absurd. Picking between those decisions made due to political dogma and those made through pure greed is labyrinthine in its complexity, so I’ll not even try to at this juncture.



With thanks to blech's photostream

Of course there is the 'housing market', bolstered constantly by a veritable barrage of nauseating TV property programmes. "Marcus and Jemima have got £750 thousand pounds to 'invest' in the property market…" You know the sort of thing.

Living, as I do in Aylsham, near to the North Norfolk coast the stench of landlords and second and third homes can be almost overbearing if the wind is blowing in the wrong direction. There’s a lot of ‘money’ riding ‘on it’ and it 'matters much, much more!' If you can’t afford to live here, that’s because you don't matter. Did I hear correctly? Are we really looking for 'the green shoots of recovery' through a rise in property prices?

The 'banking system' has been roundly condemned to the extent that there is almost nothing left to pull apart. Nobody even tries to defend the bankers (correct spelling?) any more, at least not with a straight face, or an honest one. Interesting then, is it not, that 'our'- we did elect him, didn’t we?- Gordon put great store in the importance of not capping their bonuses at the recent G20 meetings. ‘It matters more when there’s’ crate-loads of ‘money on it!’ I wonder where 'our' Gordon will be looking for work when the electorate finally become involved in his tenure? I forget, we do still involve the electorate at some point, don’t we?

The third major cog that I can see is the 'motor industry', another bottomless pit for all that tax-payer's dosh. Do we really want Gordon- I sight him because he’s there, the next one will slot so seamlessly into place that you won’t even notice; they all dance to the same tune- guiding us 'skilfully' through the current climate debate and dictating which changes are (not) going to happen? Allow me, please, to ask the one question that I’ve not heard a single politician or motor industry representative address or even acknowledge as being pertinent: How might the scrapping of all those old cars, under the government’s car scrappage scheme, affect the person on the minimum wage, when he or she needs to replace an old car with another oldish car?



With thanks to boxchain's photostream

The motor industry is, of course, once again in the news for all the wrong reasons. Reportedly just five individuals at the top have managed to cream off £42 million. And this in the face of a monumental failure to save the company. You'd have thought that the organisation would have been literally raking it in with all this surplus cash rattling about. Nothing illegal there then? Fine! Carry on as usual. More of the same, please!

It matters so very, very much more when there’s loads and loads of money on it!