To these political activists who want to put their case by slagging the 'opposite' side, I have a message for you. Would you try to convince a drunk at a party to vote for you? So why insist on trying to change the mind of the convinced, when there are so many floating voters out there - like me - who are open to suggestion, waiting to be convinced?
I enjoyed a bit of Brian-baiting as much as the next person, but frankly, it's starting to irritate. The focus has shifted, but the baiting continues, and is engaged in by everybody, it seems to me. We now have Me-hole Martin, Where-is-Enda Kenny, Moan Burton, John Gormless, and Baron Adams. I must say though, that the jibes at Sinn Féin are more bitter - references to Bank withdrawals, etc. may sting all the more because of relatively recent history, but for what purpose?
"Absentem laedit cum ebrio qui litigat"
Brian Cowen - Footnote in History, please take note
I still think that there is a sleight of hand afoot, so to speak. We are being entertained to 'the greatest show in Ireland' with this General Election, while the serious business of policy is more of a side-show. Policies regarding Health Care, Social Protection, Enterprise Development, and of course, the ones we have all become familiar - not to say experts in - within such a short time - The Deficit, Sovereign Debt, Burning Bondholders, et al.
We should live in a community, not an economy, as a man from Bartlemy I believe it was, once said. Manque de peau, here we are, in a failing economy, with windbags of all shapes, sizes, colours and creeds, telling us how they'll solve these problems. I know they won't. Maybe it would be better if they did less - efficient politicians are even more frightening than the inept.
I feel for Elaine Byrne - with the people who nearly took the plunge. I honestly believe though, that the talents of the likes of Fintan O'Toole, David McWilliams, etc. would be better used as commentators and advisors. Look at George Lee - what a sad loss to us all THAT was. Is it possible that in 10 or 20 years time, there'll be a younger version of one of Somerville or Ross (they are beautifully co-ordinated names, in fairness, aren't they) will be out on the hustings saying something like: "Dun Laoire Rathdown is a Ross Seat".
We are, unfortunately and fortunately, a tribal nation. Look at us. We have Fianna Fáil - the Soldiers of Destiny, and Fine Gael - The Tribe of the Gaedhal, since the 1920's. We shouldn't forget that a Taoiseach was an ancient tribal chieftain, and a Tánaiste was his heir apparent, or the person appointed where a chieftain had been deposed. We still retain that tribal attitude to our representatives, each constituency is a minor kingdom. This explains so many of the good things about ourselves, our sense of community, belonging to a place - as exemplfied by the GAA, This also explains why people will vote for 'their local man'. Shur, isn't he one of our own. We heard them on Pot Kennay's show lately - from Tipperary.
The thing is, they're not really one of our own, other than when the call comes every few years or so. hey've been seduced by the big Gathering, the Dáil, where they play on the senior team, God help them.
So we have neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring - other than the red herrings that Jim Higgins talked about - the ones that the Fianna Fáil / Green Party Government has been 'throwing at white elephants' over the last few years.
God help us.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Optimistic Cynic - or the Informed Idealist...
I suppose that the fact that the father of Cynicism was the son of a Banker should not surprise us, as we stumble into the second decade of the 21nd Century. Poor old Diogenes. That barrel can't have been too comfortable, and with so many admirers, you'd think that he could have got himself a flash apartment overlooking the Adriatic. Of course, he would have said that "that which is valuable is battered with that which is worthless, and that which is worthless is battered by that which is valuable" - go figure.
Still, it's vaguely comforting to know that 2,300 years ago, there was a man who was prepared to go against the grain, to suffer the ridicule of the fashionable, for his ... ideals? Ah, and so we come to the question...
Was the father of Cynicism - and ultimately of Stoicism - actually an Idealist? Well, of course he was. He was a thinker and a philosopher. He didn't suffer fools gladly, and he described himself as a dog. "I am Diogenes the Dog. I will fawn upon those who are kind, bark at those who are greedy and bite scoundrels."
My kinda guy then. I suppose he's most peoples' kinda guy - unless he was your neighbour. He'd be a pain in the arse if he was your neighbour. Most oddballs are. He'd be distinctly uncomfortable. Most idealists are.
As I continue to think about 'the state we are in' and the knocking down of all the idols on all the pedestals that we have built ourselves; spiritually, socially, financially, culturally, They are all coming tumbling down.
We need leaders. We need people who are prepared to be ridiculed. We need people to become indignant - as Stephane Hessel would have it - but not tooo much...
Remember the lessons learned in previous centuries - In a vacuum, a leader can become too powerful.
Still, it's vaguely comforting to know that 2,300 years ago, there was a man who was prepared to go against the grain, to suffer the ridicule of the fashionable, for his ... ideals? Ah, and so we come to the question...
Was the father of Cynicism - and ultimately of Stoicism - actually an Idealist? Well, of course he was. He was a thinker and a philosopher. He didn't suffer fools gladly, and he described himself as a dog. "I am Diogenes the Dog. I will fawn upon those who are kind, bark at those who are greedy and bite scoundrels."
My kinda guy then. I suppose he's most peoples' kinda guy - unless he was your neighbour. He'd be a pain in the arse if he was your neighbour. Most oddballs are. He'd be distinctly uncomfortable. Most idealists are.
As I continue to think about 'the state we are in' and the knocking down of all the idols on all the pedestals that we have built ourselves; spiritually, socially, financially, culturally, They are all coming tumbling down.
We need leaders. We need people who are prepared to be ridiculed. We need people to become indignant - as Stephane Hessel would have it - but not tooo much...
Remember the lessons learned in previous centuries - In a vacuum, a leader can become too powerful.
Monday, December 27, 2010
The Greatest Love Song...?
It struck me this morning, as I woke from a scanty sleep and looked at my equal (not better - no way!) half, that Love is very over-rated. Not that I don't love my 'other' half, I do actually. I tried to sit up, and wrench my shoulderblades back into a more natural position, and he sat on the edge of the bed and negotiated the minor minefield of putting on his socks. The cause of our discomfort (apart from encroaching age) lay flat on his back, legs akimbo, arms astretch, oblivious to the pain he had inflicted during the night! Our son. Our darling boy - not so darling at four in the morning when he insinuates himself in between us and pushes the duvet down to our knees, but he says "love you Mom" as he does it, and you can't get cross then can you...
The wretch. But it was ever thus. I remember looking at my daughter when she was about 4 months old, and being convinced that babies develop the smile reflex at a few months old because otherwise the human race would have come to another dead archaeological end. They smile, and instantly, we melt. We coo, gurgle ridiculously and provide food, shelter, electronic goods, overpriced shoes... and of course, Love! I sound like a right curmudgeon, and it's true. Put it down to the pain in my neck that still hasn't gone away 16 hours later...
Being a curmudgeon is probably the reason that I can't read a Mills & Boon book. When the cool clean hero looks adoringly into her eyes and tenderly wraps a blade of grass around her trembling finger, I tend to think something like "Yeah, give it 10 years and 2 or 3 babies, and you'll be lucky to get that adoring look is when you serve up the hindquarters of a bullock on top of a mound of spuds, my dear girl".
If ever I wrote a love story, my hero and heroine would be so boring... I would model them on my favourite love song. Not by Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, or even Chopin... No, I'd have Seán Eoin Ó Suilleabháin as my choice. Here are the words of Mise 'gus Máire, a story of a man who loves his wife, has a twinkle in his eye and good range to his voice! I won't do it the injustice of translating it. It's perfect just as it is.
Mise ‘gus Máire
Táimse ‘gus Máire go sásta ‘nár n’aigne,
Ó nascadh i bpáirt sinn ag an altóir ró bheannaithe
Thug sise grá, thar cáirde ‘gus fearaibh dom
Thógas ar láimh í, ‘s go brách, brách ní scarfaimíd
Bead-se ‘seinnt cheoil dí, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Tá mo theaghlach san áit is fearr ar an mbaile seo,
I bPáirc an tShrutháin, a sharaíonn cead acra
Cruithneacht a’ fás ann chomh h-árd leis na clathacha
‘Is mé ‘feitheamh don tráth san go bhfeice mé aibidh é
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil dí, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Tá torthaí a’fás im gháirdín go slachtaithe
Úlla, spiúnáin agus cúiríní dearga
Siúcre i mála le ráithe go taiseithe
Chun subh is mílseáin don bháb, ‘is don bhanaltra
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil dóibh, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Sí mo chéile-se Máire, an stáidbhean mhodhúil mhaisiúil
A’faire ‘n chliabháin, ‘is an páiste ‘r a sheascaireacht,
Stoca ‘na lámhaibh, ‘is na bioráin innte preabarnaigh
Í a’cniotáil, ‘is a’crónán do’n leainbhín
Mise a’seinnt cheoil dóibh, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Sé mo ghuí chun an Árd-Mhic na grásta do scaipeadh orainn,
‘Is go leanfaidh an t-ádh seo, gan gátar ná easba sinn,
Nuair a thiocfaidh lá an áirimh ar Mhághaibh úd Jhosaifet
Go dtóga Dia ar láimh sinn anáirde go Parrathas,
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil ann, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
The wretch. But it was ever thus. I remember looking at my daughter when she was about 4 months old, and being convinced that babies develop the smile reflex at a few months old because otherwise the human race would have come to another dead archaeological end. They smile, and instantly, we melt. We coo, gurgle ridiculously and provide food, shelter, electronic goods, overpriced shoes... and of course, Love! I sound like a right curmudgeon, and it's true. Put it down to the pain in my neck that still hasn't gone away 16 hours later...
Being a curmudgeon is probably the reason that I can't read a Mills & Boon book. When the cool clean hero looks adoringly into her eyes and tenderly wraps a blade of grass around her trembling finger, I tend to think something like "Yeah, give it 10 years and 2 or 3 babies, and you'll be lucky to get that adoring look is when you serve up the hindquarters of a bullock on top of a mound of spuds, my dear girl".
If ever I wrote a love story, my hero and heroine would be so boring... I would model them on my favourite love song. Not by Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, or even Chopin... No, I'd have Seán Eoin Ó Suilleabháin as my choice. Here are the words of Mise 'gus Máire, a story of a man who loves his wife, has a twinkle in his eye and good range to his voice! I won't do it the injustice of translating it. It's perfect just as it is.
Mise ‘gus Máire
Táimse ‘gus Máire go sásta ‘nár n’aigne,
Ó nascadh i bpáirt sinn ag an altóir ró bheannaithe
Thug sise grá, thar cáirde ‘gus fearaibh dom
Thógas ar láimh í, ‘s go brách, brách ní scarfaimíd
Bead-se ‘seinnt cheoil dí, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Tá mo theaghlach san áit is fearr ar an mbaile seo,
I bPáirc an tShrutháin, a sharaíonn cead acra
Cruithneacht a’ fás ann chomh h-árd leis na clathacha
‘Is mé ‘feitheamh don tráth san go bhfeice mé aibidh é
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil dí, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Tá torthaí a’fás im gháirdín go slachtaithe
Úlla, spiúnáin agus cúiríní dearga
Siúcre i mála le ráithe go taiseithe
Chun subh is mílseáin don bháb, ‘is don bhanaltra
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil dóibh, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Sí mo chéile-se Máire, an stáidbhean mhodhúil mhaisiúil
A’faire ‘n chliabháin, ‘is an páiste ‘r a sheascaireacht,
Stoca ‘na lámhaibh, ‘is na bioráin innte preabarnaigh
Í a’cniotáil, ‘is a’crónán do’n leainbhín
Mise a’seinnt cheoil dóibh, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Sé mo ghuí chun an Árd-Mhic na grásta do scaipeadh orainn,
‘Is go leanfaidh an t-ádh seo, gan gátar ná easba sinn,
Nuair a thiocfaidh lá an áirimh ar Mhághaibh úd Jhosaifet
Go dtóga Dia ar láimh sinn anáirde go Parrathas,
Bead-sa seinnt cheoil ann, poirtíní beál agam
Reics fol dí-ó, reics fol dí ai de dil aigh dí.
Friday, November 19, 2010
No reason to feel shame
Today, the Taoiseach, Brian Cowen, leader of our country told me that I had no reason to feel shame. Strange that I do not feel comforted. Stranger still that he is talking about feeling anything at all. But these are strange days we're living in.
When it comes right down do it, why should anyone feel shame?
The Bankers? Their function is to make a profit for their owners/shareholders. They will charge the highest rate they legally can, and as much as the market can bear.
The Developers? See above...
The Regulators? They were appointed and directed by Government. Shure they were only doing what they were told... weren't we all?
The Mortgagees? Well, 'everyone' said that they'd be left behind if they didn't get on the property ladder - so is it their fault if they tried to live the dream? If the Bankers told them that they had confidence in their ability to pay, who were they to disagree?
And so we come to Government. What are their responsibilities? Is it not the case that they DO have a responsibility to civil society, not the markets. We are their shareholders. Their function is to oversee that the Bankers, the Developers, and all the rest, are Regulated. They do this by appointing people of substance and authority to Regulate. They develop policies according to their manifestos. They legislate in order to protect civil society from insatiable greed and unfettered criminality.
No, Mr. Cowen, I don't feel shame. I don't feel much of anything except anger, that that's all directed at YOU and your inept, corrupt, excuse for a Government.
How DARE you condescendingly state that I need feel no shame.
We'll get through this. My daughter will probably never get to College.
But we'll feel no shame...
My son has had one holiday away, a long weekend with friends in France, in his nine years. He'll probably not see the likes for another 10 years. He'll be lucky to get to Leaving Cert, let alone College. But we'll feel no shame...
I'll probably not have a job after Christmas, my husband will be bloody lucky to keep his part-time job. We'll both have to work like lunatics - probably in the black economy if we're lucky enough to find something. But we'll feel no shame...
When we're choosing between a doctors fee and the electricity bill...
When we're cutting back on those little luxuries we tend to get a taste for - like food...
We'll feel no shame...
I will tell everyone who will listen that the Troika of ineptitude; Fianna Fáil, the PD's, the Glasraí, did this.
I do not feel any shame.
I feel anger.
When it comes right down do it, why should anyone feel shame?
The Bankers? Their function is to make a profit for their owners/shareholders. They will charge the highest rate they legally can, and as much as the market can bear.
The Developers? See above...
The Regulators? They were appointed and directed by Government. Shure they were only doing what they were told... weren't we all?
The Mortgagees? Well, 'everyone' said that they'd be left behind if they didn't get on the property ladder - so is it their fault if they tried to live the dream? If the Bankers told them that they had confidence in their ability to pay, who were they to disagree?
And so we come to Government. What are their responsibilities? Is it not the case that they DO have a responsibility to civil society, not the markets. We are their shareholders. Their function is to oversee that the Bankers, the Developers, and all the rest, are Regulated. They do this by appointing people of substance and authority to Regulate. They develop policies according to their manifestos. They legislate in order to protect civil society from insatiable greed and unfettered criminality.
No, Mr. Cowen, I don't feel shame. I don't feel much of anything except anger, that that's all directed at YOU and your inept, corrupt, excuse for a Government.
How DARE you condescendingly state that I need feel no shame.
We'll get through this. My daughter will probably never get to College.
But we'll feel no shame...
My son has had one holiday away, a long weekend with friends in France, in his nine years. He'll probably not see the likes for another 10 years. He'll be lucky to get to Leaving Cert, let alone College. But we'll feel no shame...
I'll probably not have a job after Christmas, my husband will be bloody lucky to keep his part-time job. We'll both have to work like lunatics - probably in the black economy if we're lucky enough to find something. But we'll feel no shame...
When we're choosing between a doctors fee and the electricity bill...
When we're cutting back on those little luxuries we tend to get a taste for - like food...
We'll feel no shame...
I will tell everyone who will listen that the Troika of ineptitude; Fianna Fáil, the PD's, the Glasraí, did this.
I do not feel any shame.
I feel anger.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Cliché-Fest of the Vanities
As I'm writing, I'm listening to Philip King, Ed Walsh, Ruari Quinn, Ilonna Duffy, and Harry McGee on Marian Finucan's show. Oh, and I almost forgot - John Gormley. It's Saturday, 10th October at 12 noon. It's like a little microcosm of our society.
Ed Walsh is an academic who wants retribution - now that's a dangerous combination. It's one that I can absolutely understand, and I can feel his fury. His comments on Bertie in the Cupboard were the best I've heard.
You really get the sense of Ahern as Leprechaun, dancing on a cliff-edge. The exTaoiseach who spent years carefully weaving the rope that bound him to his brothers, who in their turn created the net that enmeshed (not to say ensnared) all of us. The net that binds all of us ultimately to him, and his ilk - the FF tribe. And there he is, dancing in delight at the security that rope gives him. He holds tight to the pot-a-gold that he helped fill as he granted constructive wishes; the heavy pot-a-gold that will pull all of us over the edge.
John Gormley - Is he an innocent abroad? A politician who should never have gone beyond the local council? Or an ecowarrior out of his tree? In any event, the feeling he engenders in me is that of self-preservationist dressed as a statesman, a bit player who's now in a panic 'cos he's seen how close to the cliff-edge we are. He was just out searching for pods of dolphins, ignoring the danger signs because he had a higher purpose. But I doubt he signed up for this...
Ilonna Duffy - mostly silent. I don't know enough about her, as far as I know she's one of that rare species - even rarer than Leprechauns: a successful Irish business woman operating in Ireland. She's probably pragmatically looking for the best position on the cliff-edge - and who'd blame her.
Harry McGee - deals in facts. They are devastating. He is the one who shines the spotlight on the facts. The facts tell the story themselves. The facts tell us that there was a culture of incompetence, entitlement, greed, waste... He's trying to tell us that the rope is tightening, that the dancing Leprechaun is looking into the abyss - I get the feeling that the abyss has been looking into the dancer for a long, long, long time.
Ruairi Quinn - is a sober and astute politician, long inured to opposition. He is the engineer who is trying to estimate the gradient of the cliff, the counter-weight needed, the depth of the foundation needed. He obviously doesn't trust the Leprechauns who said that this edifice could hold. He looks with a jaundiced eye when they say that they will lead the people along a four-year path out of the crisis. He's wise to the ways of Snake Oil salesmen.
Cow-cough-linehan is no Moses leading his people out of Egypt... and that took 40 years, not 4.
and Philip King - the poet, musician, visionary.
His views will be derided and ridiculed, and he will be called a pollyanna.
But he made a good point, that this state, and every other state, came about because of poets and visionaries. At the end of it all, if we have not been bled dry by the zombies, I hope that there will be some visionaries who will emerge. Why can we not see that we need the visionaries, the one's who look beyond the cliff, the breakers, to the clean blue ocean that could wash the filth away. Some will drown, but lifeboats can be built
This Government in Ireland in October 2010 want our blood. They've taken our money and our childrens' money. They've taken our time, our energy, our spirit, and now they want our blood.
I'd spill my own first.
Ed Walsh is an academic who wants retribution - now that's a dangerous combination. It's one that I can absolutely understand, and I can feel his fury. His comments on Bertie in the Cupboard were the best I've heard.
You really get the sense of Ahern as Leprechaun, dancing on a cliff-edge. The exTaoiseach who spent years carefully weaving the rope that bound him to his brothers, who in their turn created the net that enmeshed (not to say ensnared) all of us. The net that binds all of us ultimately to him, and his ilk - the FF tribe. And there he is, dancing in delight at the security that rope gives him. He holds tight to the pot-a-gold that he helped fill as he granted constructive wishes; the heavy pot-a-gold that will pull all of us over the edge.
John Gormley - Is he an innocent abroad? A politician who should never have gone beyond the local council? Or an ecowarrior out of his tree? In any event, the feeling he engenders in me is that of self-preservationist dressed as a statesman, a bit player who's now in a panic 'cos he's seen how close to the cliff-edge we are. He was just out searching for pods of dolphins, ignoring the danger signs because he had a higher purpose. But I doubt he signed up for this...
Ilonna Duffy - mostly silent. I don't know enough about her, as far as I know she's one of that rare species - even rarer than Leprechauns: a successful Irish business woman operating in Ireland. She's probably pragmatically looking for the best position on the cliff-edge - and who'd blame her.
Harry McGee - deals in facts. They are devastating. He is the one who shines the spotlight on the facts. The facts tell the story themselves. The facts tell us that there was a culture of incompetence, entitlement, greed, waste... He's trying to tell us that the rope is tightening, that the dancing Leprechaun is looking into the abyss - I get the feeling that the abyss has been looking into the dancer for a long, long, long time.
Ruairi Quinn - is a sober and astute politician, long inured to opposition. He is the engineer who is trying to estimate the gradient of the cliff, the counter-weight needed, the depth of the foundation needed. He obviously doesn't trust the Leprechauns who said that this edifice could hold. He looks with a jaundiced eye when they say that they will lead the people along a four-year path out of the crisis. He's wise to the ways of Snake Oil salesmen.
Cow-cough-linehan is no Moses leading his people out of Egypt... and that took 40 years, not 4.
and Philip King - the poet, musician, visionary.
His views will be derided and ridiculed, and he will be called a pollyanna.
But he made a good point, that this state, and every other state, came about because of poets and visionaries. At the end of it all, if we have not been bled dry by the zombies, I hope that there will be some visionaries who will emerge. Why can we not see that we need the visionaries, the one's who look beyond the cliff, the breakers, to the clean blue ocean that could wash the filth away. Some will drown, but lifeboats can be built
This Government in Ireland in October 2010 want our blood. They've taken our money and our childrens' money. They've taken our time, our energy, our spirit, and now they want our blood.
I'd spill my own first.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I've been sucked back into looking at the political stories of the day. It's doing my head in, I'm sick of it, yet still - I must WANT to punish myself. I've even toyed with the idea of joining a political party, something that I have always assiduously avoided. I'll know next week if that's something that I want to do - or not.
I believe that we are reaching the end of "Representative Democracy" in the form that it has taken over the past x hundred/s years. It appears to me to be self-evident that the incremental steps that lead to a huge shift in the shape of the world are about to reach a tipping point. That's big - isn't it? Yes and no. You see, I believe that there's more to this than our little problems here on the west coast of Europe. There are a few straws that I see floating in the wind, all pointing to one outcome, but I don't have the expertise or background to even verbalise these properly. Nevertheless, here are a few of those straws.
1. Something in my gut tells me that there's a symmetry to all things. The pendulum always swings - sometimes it's a backlash, sometimes imperceptively slowly. The trend has been towards globalisation, and I think that trend must now reverse. There will be many reasons; uncertainty and lack of confidence causing a fall-off in markets world wide, Peak Oil (probably), and many more that I don't understand.
So what is the reverse of Globalisation? I suppose that it must be Localisation. It was interesting reading David McWilliams blog tonight.
http://www.davidmcwilliams.ie/2010/09/27/recovery-is-going-to-be-local
Wierd to see your thoughts reflected in the writings of a well-known economist!
2. I think that IT and communications technology is going to cause as big a revolution as the printing press did in its time. News is now instant and interactive. We don't have the filter of journalists, broadcasters, etc. any more. DBT (Dan Boyle's Tweet) would be a good example. Mainstream media is now running to catch the coat-tails of 'new media'. The instant nature of new media is important, but it's that interactivity that's really key. Anybody with a computer can join in. Not just consuming the story, but telling it too.
There's more, but I'm tired. I think the answer is Participative Democracy - but I'm too tired to even try to explain. Leadership is required - leaders who are big enough to risk everything - failure especially.
I believe that we are reaching the end of "Representative Democracy" in the form that it has taken over the past x hundred/s years. It appears to me to be self-evident that the incremental steps that lead to a huge shift in the shape of the world are about to reach a tipping point. That's big - isn't it? Yes and no. You see, I believe that there's more to this than our little problems here on the west coast of Europe. There are a few straws that I see floating in the wind, all pointing to one outcome, but I don't have the expertise or background to even verbalise these properly. Nevertheless, here are a few of those straws.
1. Something in my gut tells me that there's a symmetry to all things. The pendulum always swings - sometimes it's a backlash, sometimes imperceptively slowly. The trend has been towards globalisation, and I think that trend must now reverse. There will be many reasons; uncertainty and lack of confidence causing a fall-off in markets world wide, Peak Oil (probably), and many more that I don't understand.
So what is the reverse of Globalisation? I suppose that it must be Localisation. It was interesting reading David McWilliams blog tonight.
http://www.davidmcwilliams.ie/2010/09/27/recovery-is-going-to-be-local
Wierd to see your thoughts reflected in the writings of a well-known economist!
2. I think that IT and communications technology is going to cause as big a revolution as the printing press did in its time. News is now instant and interactive. We don't have the filter of journalists, broadcasters, etc. any more. DBT (Dan Boyle's Tweet) would be a good example. Mainstream media is now running to catch the coat-tails of 'new media'. The instant nature of new media is important, but it's that interactivity that's really key. Anybody with a computer can join in. Not just consuming the story, but telling it too.
There's more, but I'm tired. I think the answer is Participative Democracy - but I'm too tired to even try to explain. Leadership is required - leaders who are big enough to risk everything - failure especially.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Trust and Politics
This grieving for the boom is messing with my head still. I didn't get sucked in to the excess, so maybe I'm grieving that I didn't even get to enjoy the party while it lasted, and now I'm getting a hangover by proxy.
I know - we all know - that we're being lied to, conditioned, prepared. The parties are on an election footing, and the gloves are off. But somehow, it feels like an inter-necine war... There's an element of collegiality still about the members of the political classes that is stomach-churning.
A few months ago, when I was still more angry than sad about what was happening, I felt like manning the barricades. If someone - anyone - had stood up and said they were as mad as hell and they weren't going to take it anymore, I'd have stood shoulder to shoulder with them. Knowing me, I'd probably be wearing a hoodie that'd cover my face for all intents and purposes.
Yes, I'm still a victim of respectability. Staunchly middle-class parents, with aspirations to be upper-middle-class, ensured that I still can't imagine myself voting Sinn Féin for instance. A sad reflection...
The anger has turned to fear and loathing. I don't recognise myself anymore. I spend endless hours at night, reading the commentaries of experts. I still don't know any more than I did then. There's a kind of paralysis that I know I'm not alone in feeling. I want to be active, to actively contribute to the destruction of the political classes we have spawned. I worry that that same creeping paralysis is becoming more and more apparent.
News stories are less and less shocking. But not because of content, but because of conditioing.
It's bad.
It's really bad
It's REALLY really bad.
This could kill us
It's attacking
We're dead - RIP Ireland
And there are those who see themselves asmembers of the Party! Dead maybe, but STILL members of the Party. Martyrs to a grubby cause. This country is becoming radicalised in a whole new obscene way...
Please someone clean and minty - save my sanity.
I know - we all know - that we're being lied to, conditioned, prepared. The parties are on an election footing, and the gloves are off. But somehow, it feels like an inter-necine war... There's an element of collegiality still about the members of the political classes that is stomach-churning.
A few months ago, when I was still more angry than sad about what was happening, I felt like manning the barricades. If someone - anyone - had stood up and said they were as mad as hell and they weren't going to take it anymore, I'd have stood shoulder to shoulder with them. Knowing me, I'd probably be wearing a hoodie that'd cover my face for all intents and purposes.
Yes, I'm still a victim of respectability. Staunchly middle-class parents, with aspirations to be upper-middle-class, ensured that I still can't imagine myself voting Sinn Féin for instance. A sad reflection...
The anger has turned to fear and loathing. I don't recognise myself anymore. I spend endless hours at night, reading the commentaries of experts. I still don't know any more than I did then. There's a kind of paralysis that I know I'm not alone in feeling. I want to be active, to actively contribute to the destruction of the political classes we have spawned. I worry that that same creeping paralysis is becoming more and more apparent.
News stories are less and less shocking. But not because of content, but because of conditioing.
It's bad.
It's really bad
It's REALLY really bad.
This could kill us
It's attacking
We're dead - RIP Ireland
And there are those who see themselves asmembers of the Party! Dead maybe, but STILL members of the Party. Martyrs to a grubby cause. This country is becoming radicalised in a whole new obscene way...
Please someone clean and minty - save my sanity.
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