Tom Hunter

The Essay on Radio 3 had a 15 minute slot from Tom Hunter who lives and works in Hackney.
If that link is removed link to his website and the photo below!

Woman Reading Possession Order

I'm very cooperative

This month, as an email from ABCUL reminded me, sees the 250th anniversary of the founding of the Fenwick Weavers Society. It is claimed that this is the first known co-operative in the world for which full records are held. Which could put the collective noses of the Rochdale Pioneers out of joint by 84 years, if such things mattered. The residents of Toad Lane have traditionally considered themselves the first among equals.

An interesting article in the Grauniad concerning the Big Society in the Basque Country (Euskadi). Great stuff but not without its problems as the last three paragraphs outline.

Mondragón's utopian ideal, however, is tempered by the fact that only half of staff are co-op members and their vote decides the future of the other 50%. The result is a two-tier system.
During the recession it was non-member staff who suffered, losing jobs as temporary contracts were not renewed. None of its foreign divisions have become co-ops, stymied by a lack of profits and trade unions abroad suspicious of worker ownership.
Carlos Fernández Isoird, a former manager who left to set up social enterprises, says Mondragón is too large, too multinational and too capitalist in outlook: "Mondragón stopped forming co-ops years ago. They have 6,000 workers in China and just opened two factories in India. Tell me when will a Chinese get to be president of Mondragón?"

Ah yes membership, equality and globalisation!

What would a network of cooperatives, mutuals, non-profits etc. look like? Hmmm...

Once upon time in a London Borough far, far away a young lad was enchanted listening to the tale told by a colleague of some considerable experience. On a visit to explore the, architectural, wonders of Bordeaux he fell in with a wine coop which had celebrated its 100th anniversary. The way they had chosen to do this was by bottling an anniversary wine with the label Chateau Rochdale in honour of our friends in Toad Lane!

Let me know if you find a bottle and how good it was!

El Norte

I was delighted with this post by Nicholas Carr which links to a series of photos by Sebastian Schutyser of the Ermitas of Northern Spain. Schutyser gives a brief but fascinating account of the series in Carr's blog.
We spent some time here and it really is that interesting and delightful. We blunbled on so much that has stayed with us and sustained us. The shot below is of a small but perfectly formed church in a village near where we lived in the magic valley.

These are copies of copies. See the real thing!

Warning! These locations contain peace and beauty!

Out of the Mouths of Bankers and Sucklings

A bright spring morn. To the local flea pit for a screening of the film.
Inside Job. Yes, we all know the origins of our current shortage of the old readies. We know our CDOs from our CDSs. We know the perfidy of Lehman and others, the Gargantua of investment banking and the beggaring of a number of countries by Merchants of Greed. (MoGs)

It was good to see it set out so clearly and unequivocally with mug shots of the players Henry Paulson, Ben Bernanke & Timothy Geithner, for example. Whatever happened to them?
Christine Lagarde calling him Honk Paulson, Glenn Hubbard caught in the headlights like a rabbit; it's all good clean fun!

We should not forget what these people did and the effect they will have on the lives of those that are not able to deal with it! But we will, we will.

The director, Charles Ferguson, was asked in October 2010 what the most important lesson in his film was:-

"Oh that's simple. That finance is too important to be left to the financiers."

The MoGs are still out there sucking.

Passing through the graveyard.

I thought it was a memorial to a Victorian balladeer with a weakness for triple alliteration. However, it is a sad tale of bankruptcy, penury and writing dreadful novels to bring the pennies in. The memorial stone gets seven hits on flickr. If I don’t mention his name he will sink into obscurity in this blog! Now there’s a thought. Sic transit gloria mundi.

How do you make a phlebotomist laugh?

I regularly visit the blood testing department at our local hospital.
Phlebotomists are usually very professional, more competent than doctors at drawing blood and probably have to put up with their fair share of rotten jokes about vampires and armfuls. Maybe as a consequence they all seem to have a dour expression permanently attached. I have been thinking of awarding myself a few points if I could raise a smile from the phlebotomist.
My chance came today. I was ushered into the cubical asked to take a seat and as a precaution (Know your customer) required to give my name, address and date of birth. I complied. After this I was required to give the current dose of Warfarin that I was taking.

"4mg during the week and 5mg at the weekend. Party time!"

A smile, a chuckle and then back to sooking the lemon pan drops.

And Another One Bites the Dust

Lovely day for it.




Beccles 19/3/2011

Out of the Mouths of Chartered Accountants

I wish I was young and healthy enough to participate on March 26th. I would enjoy the carnival spirit, especially as it is Lent. There is no substitute for the joining together of honest men, women and children in whatever numbers to raise their voices to call for peace and justice and to speak truth to power. We stereotype, we discriminate, we exclude and we judge where we should be judged. We can also unite, cooperate, demonstrate that we share a common humanity, up to a point, even with accountants. Mr Murphy's excellent Blog, Tax Research UK hits the 2 inch wire lost head on its apex as usual!

I shall expect to see rubberman Cameron, Gideon, and St Vincent de Cable at the march, proudly bearing a placard with the legend - Cabinet Members Against the Cuts. The Claggster will be spending more time with his family, of course.

It is very tempting. If you see a doddery old codger underneath a sign :-

Buddhist Pizza :- Accept no Cuts or Substitutes

you will know I have succumbed to irrational exuberance.

The Discrete Charm of the Embussed

I can't spell for toffee but I had a chuckle at the Beeb's report on The Cunning
Plan of Her Britannic Majesty's Metropolitan Police Force (or violence as we called it back in the day)
It is reported that The Met police briefing document advises

Avoid hasty actions or taking the bait - this will require nerve, discretion and discipline.

and when waiting around in police vans:

If drinking coffee or reading the paper when embussed (sic), please be discrete (sic).

Oh lordy, lordy Friday already an we hent paid the rent.

Still good to know the lads were paid a decent wage for their discrete embussment, coffee and papers provided!

A Tax on all of us.

As the end of the financial year draws nigh at Buddhist Pizza Inc. we have considered various salaries, payments, emoluments, bonuses and other matters of remuneration. The year has not been without its challenges and the modest profit of 4 trillion dollars has only been achieved through the tried and tested methods that have stood the financial services industry in such good stead for many years. Through the good offices and endeavours of our accountants, Messrs Bent, Filchit, Haven and Transfer-Pricing, we will pay tax of some 2,000 dollars to the government of the Cayenne Islands, where we are incorporated and have our magnificent headquarters alongside Fast Willy’s Chicken Diner. It is only fitting that we accept our corporate social responsibility and contribute to the economy of the Cayenne Islands. As a gesture of good will over and above this we will pay for a re-spray on Fast Willy’s van, in our corporate colours of course. Waste receptacles will also be provided to assist with the conservation of the environment and to reduce expenditure on rat poison. We expect, after dividend, professional services and other unavoidable costs, to be able to distribute 3.999 trillion dollars to board members and senior staff.

However, the way ahead is not without its dangers. My friends in the City of London have alerted me to moves by the great unwashed to force dynamic entrepreneurs, myself included, to pay more tax! I have created the magnificent wealth generating behemoth Buddhist Pizza Inc. as a contribution to humanity. It is my life’s work, it is my contribution to society. I have gained so little and given so much! What do they want now, blood? Oh no they want to:-

Pursue transparency,

Prioritise the needs of developing countries,

Abolish the City of London Corporation,

Reform onshore taxation,

Tackle the intermediaries and private users of offshore vehicles,

Reform the financial sector.

My god!

(see Treasure Islands – Tax havens and the men who stole the world. Nicholas Shaxson)

There are men like John Christensen biting the hand that is trying to take food from your table. I must confess that I had to sit down with a very stiff drink (40 year old Glen Trust – 2,000 sovs. a bottle) when I saw the anti-wealth pornography at Mr Murphy’s site.

I couldn’t finish watching it all. I had to finish the bottle instead.

So I say to Mr Cameron:- Stand firm rubber man!

And to Gideon:- Don’t be lily livered, live up to your name; cut, cut and cut again!

St Vincent De Cable remember:- the poor will always be with us, who else are we going to tax?

Dig This

I always wanted a Swiss Army Knife, the one with a thing for getting boy scouts out of horses hooves. Well the PLA have come up with something better, much better! If you are one of those people who like to call a spade a spade Dig This It's worth taking a few minutes out of a busy day for the soundtrack alone.

Just the thing for getting out of the Laogai, no political prisoner should be without one.

Thanks to her outdoors and FSC for this

Leslie 1941 - 2011

Your voice echoed the dreaming spires
Your face the folk of the four corners
Your companion Listening Woman
Your burial a bone pointed to a blue sky

In the midst of death there is farce.

I have been reading, thanks to the NYT, the ideas of Gene Sharp in From Dictatorship to Democracy which is available as a free download.

Well someone has to start thinking strategically about the downfall of rubber man, the clagster and coalition forces! It also fits in with ideas about how to encourage slow politics.

It is somewhat unnerving that the world changes so quickly and leaves so many with their trousers round their ankles (Mr Blair endlessly snogging the green and latterly brown tyrant) It is also unbelievable that more have not been killed though no doubt there will be deaths untold and horrors that we will not (and some will not wish to) know about.

A lighter, farcical, note was provided by Robert Fiske reporting in the Indie

It now emerges, thanks to a genuine old-fashioned scoop in Le Monde, that President Ben Ali didn't really intend to flee his country at all. He planned to fly his immediate family to safety in Riyadh and then return to Tunis next morning to continue his reign. Only when the Tunisair crew arrived in Saudi Arabia and saw al-Jazeera in the airport's VIP lounge, announcing Ben Ali's overthrow, did they call Tunis and receive a new flight plan to take off at 1.30am the following day. They discreetly flew away while the President slept, leaving the dictator planeless in Riyadh.

Worthy of Boot of the Beast.

I wonder what the world will be like at $200 per barrel. I can’t see that level of power being wasted on democracy. As evidence m’lud I cite a certain Mr Put In. Tovarish of this parish and one time member of the organs of state security. He has achieved a such a lot on $100 a barrel!

Happy Birthday 2

Further to our recent post:-

If you want to see what the other buggers look like, mugshots here.

Most of them thrown out of the Securitate for cruelty!

Happy Solving.

Tax Matters

(In the voice of E L Whisty)

Dear Gideon,
I hope you forgive the familiarity of my calling you that but since your hands have been all over my assets I feel a certain closeness. I am writing to you because I would like to pay my income tax at the same rate as a certain Mr Barclay who owns a bank in these parts. If I am to believe a report in the Grauniad newspaper today he is charged a very reasonable 1 %. I took the liberty, recently, of submitting a tax return to you in which I calculated that my income attracted a much higher rate and that even after this I still owed Her Delightful Majesty's Revenue and Customs Service 35p.

I am an old man surviving, for want of a better word, on a small pension. I have to use the local library (due for closure) for books which I cannot afford to buy. I try to get out now and then to places like Thetford Forest (rescued from privatisation, for the time being) but the local public transport is appalling and the kindly folk at Suffolk County Council are restricting the use I make of my travel card.

I know you think I shouldn't complain. I live in a peaceful country free from nuclear attack and screaming jihadis. A land of plenty of litter where pit bulls and rottweilers roam free.

If you could see your way to a 1% tax on my meagre income I would be very grateful and would see you alright, if you know what I mean. I don't want to be too explicit in case I get you into trouble, but expect a plain brown envelope to arrive any day soon.

I look forward to hearing from Her Delightful Majesty's Revenue and Customs Service in due course and if you could forget the 35p we can call it quits.

Yours and Oblige,

Lord Buddhist Pizza
c/o Barclays Bank
Cayman Islands.

Bumblebee Lectures

We sat, yesterday evening, entranced and moved by the elegant and eloquent defence of the rights of children given by Michael Morpurgo in the 35th Dimbleby Lecture. It was more though. It made the case passionately for books and libraries and the space for children to grow and learn and develop. The iPlayer link is here and I will update that if there is a permanent record after 7 days.

I didn't notice any members of the cabinet in the audience. I'm sure if they were and were tackled about the issues raised they would only have shaken their wise heads and said:-

Yes I know, terrible isn't it? I blame the last government!

Come on Dave. We want a society that is big enough to cherish and nurture all its children as a priority!

Happy Birthday!

It's good after the start of a year with so much death to be able to celebrate a bit of life.
Araucaria is 90 today; a very, very happy birthday you old bugger!

That may seem a strange thing to say about someone who I have never met and would not recognise if I tripped over him in the street. However, he has provided me, and doubtless many others, with some rare moments of pleasure, frustration, confusion and satisfaction. He is a great distraction and consolation when dealing with the NHS and other bureaucracies.

An affectionate tribute here by Simon Hoggart in the Grauniad, and even an editorial, I'm impressed.

Roll on 91 I say, that's over a hundred more crosswords.

Certainty

We are all willing to talk about taxes some of us have very strong opinions and are not unwilling to share them. Death is, as they say, an entirely different kettle of herring.

I attended the death of a much loved family member. It brought sadness, tears and the recognition at the end of the process that the person was no longer there and would be no more. The consolation, if any existed, was that the death was dignified, peaceful and by all the evidence without pain. Since I had been there I felt a duty to report this to members of the family as appropriately as I could. I hope it was part of the process of grieving and life for us. One appeared very grateful for this, wanting to know but not knowing how to ask.

My own experience of the dead started early in life. In death my family were laid out in an open coffin in our front room (a 2 up 2 down slum) in Salford. Family, friends and neighbours would visit to view the body, pray and, of course, take tea. The corpse would remain with us overnight before the funeral and burial. I knew what the dying and the dead were like. I have avoided a fear of dead bodies but I am sure will piss and panic at my own death if I am conscious.

Different traditions exist in different communities. I read an article in the NYT by Ben Daitz about attempts to enable the Diné to speak of death and the dead. While it is necessary to discuss these from the perspective of care and near death provision the Diné religion and tradition makes this very difficult if not impossible. It was reported that one way to ease this process was to read the poem below with those affected.

When that time comes,
When my last breath leaves me,
I choose to die in peace
To meet Shi’dy’in

Metonymy

Metonymy flashed up on the old peepers recently and, as a word that I was not familiar with, was cause for investigation and reflection. There is a very good example by Elif Batuman in a recent blog. I don’t think I will forget the link between Ajda – Pekhan or tea glass and the meaning of metonymy.

Mr Collins has a much less vibrant description in his excellent book of words

the substitution of a word referring to an attribute for the thing that is meant, as for example the use of the crown to refer to a monarch

However, I was instructed at the end of this definition to - compare synecdoche!

You can not go around giving orders like that to a young lad without there being consequences. I confess I have wrestled with synecdoche almost as long as I have wrestled with the demon drink and sins of the flesh. I have used mortification of the body and spiritual exercises to cope with this word but it is no use. It has me defeated.

Mr Collins may briefly define it thus

a figure of speech in which a part is substituted for a whole or a whole for a part, as in 50 head of cattle for 50 cows, or the army for a soldier

and be back at the rashers and eggs in no time, washing it down with lashings of tea I’m sure, but I am destroyed. The little worm is there; the tautological quantum elusiveness of the smile on Schrödinger’s Cat:- a part is substituted for a whole or a whole for a part

I’m extirpated!

(Ed. There, there. Come and sit down and have a cup of tea. Do you want me to call your Mammy?)

Nobody Escapes the Spanish Audition.

I noticed the LRB has, in its series of Winter Lectures, one by Elif Batuman:-
Cervantes, Balzac and double-entry bookkeeping.

Now you know how something like that can set me off.

Wikipedia has it that

Cervantes worked as a purveyor for the Spanish Armada, and later as a tax collector. In 1597, discrepancies in his accounts of three years previous landed him in the Crown Jail of Seville.

So there I am with this picture in my head. Poor old Cervantes up against some hatchet faced cleric with a pencil moustache and goatee beard, his Gracious Majesty’s Auditor General.

So Miguelito, you say the Santa Pinyada sank with all hands and a fortune in gold bullion in the Irish Sea?

Yee.ss.

Just outside a port known by the heretic English as Liverpool, such disgusting names?

Yee.ss.

Then can you explain to me how a ship, a ship looking remarkably like the Santa Pinyada, was seen in a dry dock in this Liverpool having its name repainted as the New Brighton Ferry?

Can you further explain why a claim has been made by you on the insurance for the Santa Pinyada, loss with all hands and gold bullion, on the Armada No 1 Policy, at the Holy Catholic Insurance Society in Sevilla, (In God we trust and for the rest HCIS)? No, no explanation? Well I can only say how disappointed I am, deeply disappointed, and you do not want to disappoint the Spanish Audition!