We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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According to the Spanish newspaper El Pais, Cuban doctors have performed a number of experimental ass treatments on the 79-year old president-for-life since he first fell ill in July 2006. These treatments have reportedly included cork blockage, cork removal, high-pressure steam cleaning, violent stomach-punches from the Cuban national boxing team, Santaria chicken sacrifice, and mandatory public anti-constipation rallies.
Seeking to reassure citizens that El Jefe remained in control, a photo in Havana’s official newspaper last week showed a him relaxing and chatting with visiting Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez while receiving a colonoscopy. This appeared to be administered via an auger bit attached to the rear axle of a 1953 Plymouth.
– Iowahawk
In Australia, the federal government’s propaganda tends to condescendingly heckle citizens about various issues that are pretty much always best left to the individual’s discretion – not unlike the output from NuLabour’s Ministry of Truth – similar beast, albeit with a more sinister bark. So in Britain you get this (probably one of the more egregious examples), and in Australia, this (ditto).
On balance, the naff Australian stuff is the lesser of two evils, but it is still deeply irritating, patronising bilge. Take the abovementioned ‘understanding money really pays off’ campaign the government is running via billboards and television commercials. Thanks so much for spending my tax money on delivering that sterling piece of advice – let me just make a note of it on my invisible typewriter. The most wasteful entity in society is wasting more of our money by telling us to mind our pennies! That is rich – even if we are not.
Still, it is exactly the sort of hypocritical, wealth-destroying enterprise one would expect the government to embark upon. However, it is pretty depressing when your (private sector) employer gets in on the act. I arrived home today to find the company I work for have decided to post me a brochure titled ‘Safety At Home’. Apparently “every day is Safety Day – think safety 24/7”. It is full of handy tips along the lines of “don’t hold any part of your body over a boiling kettle – steam can be hotter than water” and “read labels before use…take notice of cautions and warnings” and “try not to stick your head in the oven when the gas is on but not lit – unless you feel suicidal. If you feel only slightly suicidal, keep reading this brochure and you will want to get it over and done with in no time at all.” And in the foreword from our CEO:
We have produced this booklet as a reminder of the simple [really, painfully, embarrassingly simple – JW] things that we can all do outside the workplace to make sure we’re thinking safety 24/7 (…) stay safe and keep well.
Where does a nice big steaming hot mug of “fuck the hell off!” flung at your nether regions fit into your Safety at Home recommendations, Mr CEO? And get the hell out of my house while you are at it, you finger-wagging ponce. Shareholders bankroll enough useless expenditure via the taxation system as things are; corporate nannies are not welcome. Give us our money back.
Just got an e-mail from someone I met in Beijing in late 2005. I enjoyed his company especially because we shared a similarly self-deprecating, absurdist sense of humour. A good bloke – the sort that makes you understand why Aussies and Brits get along so well in spite of the silly state of sporting rivalry that exists between us. Craig was a thirty-something English teacher who had been on the Asia circuit for some time. Stories of his doomed-in-hindsight relationship forays amused me. When we were hanging out in 2005, his current romantic interest spoke no English and they (barely) communicated via the ridiculously inadequate translator installed on their respective mobile phones – think sub-2000 Alta Vista Babelfish – painfully erroneous. They had been out to dinner a couple of times. Boggles the mind, yes. Anyway, today I received an e-mail from him:
hey james….hows sunny australia these days? i got this email from kanjing, the girl with the very cute smile at the jade youth hostel. haha, this poor guys trying to chat her up and she goes and forwards the reply to every westerner she knows. ahhh, chinese girls.
He is right – she did have an awfully cute smile and was really quite lovely – in an untouchable sort of way. And he is also right about her forwarding said correspondence to a bunch of vague acquaintances – that is exactly the sort of thing a Chinese girl would do! Gotta love ’em. It is all one big English lesson.
What our amorous charge wrote to his fair damsel – and her response – is somewhat beside the point, but I could not help but note that the English proficiency he demonstrated was not enormously superior to that of our (slightly coherent) Chinese heroine. If I was feeling sympathetic, I would mark it down to the less rigorous standards demanded of e-mail communication. But still… awww… I had such a great time in China! I want to be there now. I laughed a lot. The glorious clash of customs taking place can be quite hilarious.
To mark the occasion, Samizdata reader Sam Ward – better known as ‘Yobbo’ – has posted an alternative Australia Day address from Sam Kekovich on his blog. Might as well plonk it here, too.
Right. It is a heinously hot day in Perth. I am off to spend the entire afternoon in the sun, drinking beer and frying steaks.
To those who are not au fait with arcane Australian military procurement debates – and those that wish to be so – I present to you a rather fascinating discussion of the merits of the F-22 Raptor (a most superior bird) versus the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter (which the Australian government has plumped for). And those that do not give a tinker’s cuss about Australian defence procurement (hell, I do not blame you), I have some quite breathtaking footage of an Su-37 being put through its paces.
I believe this footage (also via Catallaxy) is of an Su-37 being exhibited at the Farnborough air show in the late 90s. Would not like to be facing this plane in a dogfight during daylight hours. According to the linked source, the Su-37 is not currently being manufactured for any particular client. Okay, Samizdata military talking heads – discuss!
Moving past discussions of endlessly increasing government responsibility over our daily existence and on to the really weighty matters of the day!
Gentlemen. Do not be fooled by recent television commercials depicting comely young hetero chaps guzzling that horrendous, barely alcoholic, sweet, creamy, Celtic muck known as Baileys (girl’s drink). See this for what it is – a shameless attempt to broaden the demographic that consumes Baileys (girl’s drink). It will not work. I do not care how many advertisements are broadcast showing Baileys (girl’s drink)-clutching studly guys and their mates in bars catching the eyes of implausibly hot women. Baileys (girl’s drink) is a girl’s drink, and no amount of telemarketing sophistry can alter that fact.
There is an Australian political party worth voting for! I have recently joined as a financial member. Some principles, some policies. Not bad at all. I think their taxation policy places too much of a burden on the taxpayer, but it is still preferable to the progressive status quo.
The satirical Songun blog has dug up a North Korean propaganda movie shot in the 1980s that is worth a look. Songun has made Always Working Together For The People available on YouTube, split into seven segments (parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7). Combined, there Is about an hour of video. I am a little weird – I watched it all.
However, I find this sort of thing quite fascinating; lots of interesting tidbits to be found. For example, part three sees Kim Jong-il being exhorted for easing all the Great Leader’s concerns about the people’s welfare (a common theme), in this instance in the field of “traffic problem”. What bloody traffic problem?? There Is nary a car to be seen motoring down the wide boulevards and highways shown. (Fair enough, those ridiculously broad motorways were designed to serve more than one purpose.) In part four, the two Kims are seen pouring over an architectural mock-up of Pyongyang in a manner most reminiscent of those Speer/Hitler snaps showing them admiring a model of the Berlin they were going to create after they won the war. Hopefully, the latter day town planners meet a similar fate as their similarly megalomaniacal forebears.
This propaganda piece is clearly a past effort to position Kim Jong-il as Crown Prince by welding him on to his father’s cult of personality. His leadership abilities are constantly lauded and he is portrayed as an indispensable part of Kim Il-sung’s revolution. The succession issue is explicitly mentioned at the end of segment six. Still, in spite of all the adulation, it is difficult not to laugh at the rather miserable figure Kim Jong-il cuts throughout the programme. Part 5 shows Kim Jong-il and daddy making a trip to the Dear Leader’s fabled birthplace, Mount Paektu. The glowing exaltations to the younger Kim pair most incongruously with his stature and bearing – unless ‘mountain spirit’ is a North Korean euphemism for ‘ample paunch’. Really, how can you not laugh at the spectacle of this malignant little gnome. As was said last week – and in great anticipation of a repeat performance – sic semper tyrannis.
I know a lot of Samizdata contributors and readers are cricket buffs. So, what do you all think about the Twenty20 limited overs format now that it has had some more exposure since last being discussed here?
Why am I so uninspired when it comes to blogging these days? Is it the alcohol? I could cut down – come the new year, I have cut down. Weekends only (except when I am drinking during the week). Or the caffeine? I only drink coffee when I am asked out ‘for coffee’ or if I have had a particularly satisfying meal that cannot be denied a ristretto chaser – I do not drink coffee as a coping mechanism for human interaction in the ‘am’ hours any more. Perhaps these recent lifestyle adjustments will cause the shingles to fall from my mind and thus bloggable considerations will gush forth as readily as, well, the clichés did when I was constructing this sentence. That would be nice.
As an entirely unrelated aside, I recently had a sort-of bigwig in the large organisation I work for sit me down and tell me what a credit I could be to said organisation if I got into its graduate programme. His schtick was familiar 21st Centurese motivationary-speak – casually, genially, avuncularly domineering – “Here’s what I want you to do by the end of next week…” Despite an arguably unhealthy self-belief in my critical faculties, I found myself drawn to this man (who barely knows me) and his vision for my future; a spell that only lapsed after he had breezed out the door to no doubt galvanise some other vessel with the company mettle. Not a bad trick – identify the promising juniors and intimidate/flatter them into the arms of the company via the personal attention and counsel of vastly senior colleagues. I must remember that one when I have my own business. I did not sign anything.
The point is that up until the early months of 2006 I have always written, argued and thought voraciously. Inspiration was never a problem, an elegant turn-of-phrase never hard to deploy. It is now – I feel barren. And it is not the booze or caffeine or any other drug; I need to leave Perth. Perth is too easy. Having left Perth for more exotic destinations in the past, I now realise that not being in Perth piques my intellectual curiosity like no other. Okay, not being on Easy Street piques my intellectual curiosity like no other, but that is practically the same thing. Perth is a marvellous city to live in, especially if you want an uncomplicated life, but I need to struggle. I need to challenge myself beyond the stultifying rigours of a weekend team-building exercise conducted at some five star hobby farm resort. Yes, I trust you will catch me if I fall back ramrod-straight into your arms, but how will I fare on the Ropes Course with only my team members to spot me? What a load of wank! I’ve been offered a promising career path in one of Australia’s biggest and most successful companies. But to be honest, the very thought bores the absolute tits off of me. I am going to leave Australia and try to make my own way in the New World – Asia.
Ta-ra.
(TBC)
Bragging about low unemployment under hyper-inflation is like bragging about the airspeed of aircraft in a power dive towards the ground.
– Commenter Shannon Love responds to a Salvador Allende admirer’s lionising of the Chilean economy under the socialist leader.
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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