Archive for March, 2009

  • Crossing administrations

    0

    Wow, I haven’t touched politics for … what? Two days? So it must be time to delve into it again, right?

    You all know, by now, that I’m not an Obama fan. It’s not a case of being a McCain fan either. And I’m frankly surprised by the outpouring of wonderfulness that seems to follow Obama around. Looking from the outside, what I saw in the presidential elections were four high-profile, vehemently anti-war candidates (Ron Paul, Mike Gravel, Cynthia McKinney and Ralph Nader) and two vehemently pro-war candidates (Barack Obama and John McCain). And Americans, who said they were against war, voted overwhelmingly for a pro-war candidate. My own working hypothesis, then, is that the American people actually want someone to wage war on the rest of the world.

    [ASIDE: If you actually believe that Obama is an anti-war dude, then you haven't been paying attention to his own words. Obama, to his credit, never deceived anyone on this. He quite clearly stated, time and time again while running for President, that he was for withdrawing most (but not all) troops in Iraq (the "bad" war), only to shift them to Afghanistan (the "good" war). He made that very clear right from the start. Just a shift -- and not a total one, at that -- not a stop.]

    But I don’t want to talk about war today. I want to talk about something much more deadly. Finance. And it may be that, as an interested bystander, I can see the flow a little more clearly than those stuck in the partisan currents. I’ll try to be concise.

    After the Great Depression, the decision was made within the United States to put walls between commercial banks and investment banks, so their purposes remained separate. This occurred in 1933. Sure, it made life boring, but it meant that commercial banks could concentrate on the nuts-n-bolts business of lending money to borrowers and accumulating funds from depositors and making sure that the amount lent out never exceeded the capital reserves to cover. And investment banks could handle all the risk they wanted without having a huge pool of depositor cash to use as poker chips. All hail the Glass-Steagall Act II of 1933.

    When Democrat Bill Clinton was at the helm, the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act of 1999 was passed. Under this Act (under the guise of “opening up competition”), the walls were broken down as this Act specifically repealed Glass-Steagall II. So, now, investment banks were able to use all that lovely deposited money of a commercial bank to go gamble on the financial primary and secondary markets to their hearts’ content. Nobody said “boo”.

    When George Bush, Jnr, came along, he protected the banks. Now, here’s where I disagree with people who say that “bad” borrowers should sink or swim on their own abilities. It’s very well documented that banks deliberately targetted certain segments of the population with bogus claims and outright lies when peddling their sub-prime scams. I saw the same mechanism at play with some Australian banks toying with 120% mortgages, where they would lend out 120% of the stated valuation of a home. Now, if that kind of thing isn’t predatory, I don’t know what is.

    But, back to the story, and to the USA. All fifty states of the Union saw these predatory loans as a bad idea. Every state regulatory body opposed them. But the Bush administration, invoking a dusty clause from a half-forgotten act, stopped every single state from enacting local consumer protection laws when it came to national banks. The consumers were unprotected, the banks deceived them, the ratings agencies colluded, and so here we are. In case you missed it, the upshot was, even if people complained, there was nothing anyone could do because the consumer protection laws were voided. Think upon that for a second and now try to blame the borrowers again.

    Thus, we have the situation of Clinton doing the set-up, and Bush following through.

    Now, Obama. He has let Geithner have his head over a ludicrous scheme, not to scrap all bogus securities (optimistic valuations have them worth 30 cents for every dollar of face value) and let free-market capitalism fall where it may, but to pimp these securities on the open market and subsidise buyers at the rate of 85:15. That is, if somebody wants to buy these securities (assuming they think they’ll appreciate in value anytime soon), for every $1 million they bid, the US government (i.e. the American taxpayer) will pay up $850,000, leaving the bidder with a risk of only $150,000 on a $1 million investment. What do you think will happen? Well, if you thought that that will make the loser banks even bolder, you’re right. Citi and Bank of America are buying up as many worthless securities as possible that they can flog at Geithner’s Bazaar, so they can offload them and pocket the profit. And the bidders will be emboldened to bid ever higher amounts for the securities because they’re only risking 15% of the price. Everybody wins … oh, except the taxpayer.

    [ASIDE: As for the "regulator" that Obama has appointed (Schapiro), don't make me laugh. The woman hasn't yet met a question she couldn't wriggle out of answering. (See here (from the WSJ, for Chrissakes!) and comments here at the footnoted business blog.)]

    Can you see the trend? Regardless of whether they’re Democrat or Republican, the same strategy has been playing out for more than a decade. It doesn’t matter who is the President, or who has the majority in Congress. Don’t be fooled by the meaningless variations between parties. I’m seeing this in Australia as well, where Labor is implementing past-administration Liberal policies (the great firewall of Australia, being one highly visible example). And yet Kevin Rudd has a 60+% approval rating. For executing what Howard planned for. Obama has an equally stratospheric approval rating. For executing what Bush planned for. And I don’t even want to get into the swamp that is New Labour in the UK.

    When it comes to this — when, regardless of who’s in power, (bad) continuity remains — you have to realise that you don’t live in a democracy any more. Your country has morphed into something else.

  • Huh?

    1

    I got an SMS from a friend recently. And it went something like this:

    Blessings to you and your family! You need to know that the Lord Jesus Christ needs to be thanked for all your blessings. Say this prayer: Lord, thank you for the blessings on me and my family. Bless me, my family, my home, my work and my friends. Because of you, all things are possible. Amen. Please immediately onto 12 people and you will see an immediate sign of God’s blessing. This is not a joke.

    And I thought … God believes in chain letters?!

  • As The Tera Flops, Part I

    0

    Are you an IT worker? Have you been to one of the mandatory company meetings lately? Aren’t they a hoot?

    As mentioned before on this blog, almost ad nauseam, the morale of IT folk is gone. Broken. Destroyed. Disintegrated. Never to return. All we can hope to do now is hold onto our jobs and desperately find ways of justifying our own positions so they don’t get outsourced to Ranjeev and his friends in Bangalore.

    But, in the meantime, we still have to live through the intrinsic contradiction of the private company. The contradiction is this. The company pretends it’s a democracy. We know it isn’t. The company pretends to care. We know it doesn’t.

    Take coffee cups, for example. About a year or two ago, the company I work for decided to go on a “health drive” regarding coffee cups. We were told that polystyrene cups were Teh Ebil because: (a) they were polluting our wonderful planet, (b) they were a health hazard to us, the valuable employees, and (c) :: mumble mumble :: they cost money. So, there was a big initiative to bring your own mug to work. I’m sure this kind of thing has played out at your workplace as well.

    The truth, however, is that the company doesn’t give a crap about your health or the environment, as long as it can’t be sued for anything. It was the third reason, in 8 point font, at the bottom of the large full-colour poster announcing the initiative, that was the kicker.

    It costs the company money.

    And you can tell it for the lie it is because, if it was only reasons (a) (the environment) and (b) (your health) that it was worried about, why then it could have sourced recycled card cups instead of polystyrene, right? But that was never an option. Using peer pressure to force everyone to bring mugs to work only makes sense if the major reason for the change is (c). The cups, whether polystyrene, recycled card, or detoxed plutonium for that matter, cost money which the company didn’t want to spend. (*)

    So, moving right along, when we have these company meetings, with streamed audio and video and much PowerPoints, we have the same tactic at play. The company pretends it operates in a way to maximise your goals and ambitions, while we — subconsciously or not — realise that it doesn’t. It’s looking for a reason, any reason at all, to either squeeze more work out of you or cut your ass and ship the job overseas. And if you can help that process along, all the better. So, a barometer reading of how well an economy is running (and how easy it’s going to be for the company in question to pink-slip you) is easily ascertained by the number of plebs willing to put up their hands and ask questions during the obligatory and dreary Q&A session at the end.

    I’m proud to say that my fellow colleagues (across multiple countries) were smart enough not to ask any questions at all. (Although this could also be due to the genetically implanted phobia Asians have of distinguishing themselves in any way. And yet they get offended by the “you all look the same to me” crack. Go figure.) They knew the drill. Better to keep quiet and keep your job, rather than ask any kind of incisive question and get labelled a troublemaker. It’s okay to be labelled a troublemaker in good times; there are lots of jobs around. But never, ever do it in bad times; there may not be another job to go to. I’m reminded of a scene from Catch-22 in this regard.

    Lieutenant Scheisskopf tore his hair and gnashed his teeth. His rubbery cheeks shook with gusts of anguish. His problem was a squadron of aviation cadets with low morale who marched atrociously in the parade competition that took place every Sunday afternoon. Their morale was low because they did not want to march in parades every Sunday afternoon and because Lieutenant Scheisskopf had appointed cadet officers from their ranks instead of permitting them to elect their own.

    “I want someone to tell me,” Lieutenant Scheisskopf beseeched them all prayerfully. “If any of it is my fault, I want to be told.”
    “He wants someone to tell him,” Clevinger said.
    “He wants everyone to keep still, idiot,” Yossarian answered.

    “I won’t punish you,” Lieutenant Scheisskopf swore.
    “He says he won’t punish me,” said Clevinger.
    “He’ll castrate you,” said Yossarian.
    “I swear I won’t punish you,” said Lieutenant Scheisskopf. “I’ll be grateful to the man who tells me the truth.”
    “He’ll hate you,” said Yossarian. “To his dying day he’ll hate you.”

    Only a little later on, we find that Scheisskopf does indeed regard Clevinger as a …

    Clevinger was a troublemaker and a wise guy. Lieutenant Scheisskopf knew that Clevinger might cause even more trouble if he wasn’t watched. … Clevinger had a mind, and Lieutenant Schkeisskopf had noticed that people with minds tended to get pretty smart at times. Such men were dangerous, and even the new cadet officers whom Clevinger had helped into office were eager to give damning testimony against him. The case against Clevinger was open and shut. The only thing missing was something to charge him with.

    Working for a company is like that, especially in these times. Word to the wise: don’t be a Clevinger. I may have to sew my lips shut.

    (*) A much more honest way to handle this would have been the following: Tell your employees up-front that the office has turned into a no-disposables zone. Then supply a couple of sets of crockery (mostly for visitors) plus a dishwasher that’s run once at the end of the day. I’ve seen this system implemented in other places, and it works very well. But don’t try to shame people into bringing their own mugs and then also have the polystyrene cups available, and not even supply the kitchen facilities to adequately wash your mug at the end of the day. Talk about cheap … and half-arsed.

  • Filling the vacuum

    5

    From our home office (J and I), I can look out the first floor window and watch the opposite neighbours. Considering I’m a writer, you can imagine that I do a lot of outside-the-window gazing. And I noticed the following: the family consists of a mother (not working), a father (working), two-ish kids, and a grandparent. Although they have no pets, the neighbours do have three live-in servants. (I do hate the euphemism of “maid”, as though there is some kind of gentleperson’s agreement, and subsequent gentility, involved.)

    So, three servants. And every morning, they mop the floors both inside and outside the house along the swimming pool surround, take the baby for a morning stroll in the pram and generally do servant-ish things inside, I imagine. (The outside outside work, with grass and gardening, and so on, are handled by an entirely different crew.)  The neighbour’s house is the same size as ours, which made me wonder about work. We don’t have a grandparent staying (although we have had), we have two kids and two longhaired cats. And both J and I work at multiple jobs. But, as you know by now, being philosophically against servants, we try to get everything done ourselves. (We may have to succumb to a half-day weekly visit from someone soon, to be honest, but not just yet.)

    Considering our houses are of a similar size, it got me wondering. Exactly what kind of work can one family generate that will occupy three full-time, live-in servants 18 hours a day, 7 days a week? (No, one day a week off is not mandatory in this part of the world. Barbaric, isn’t it?) From looking around our place, all we’d really need (on top of what we already kinda sorta do) would be a floor mopping once a week. Once a month, we’d probably have the windows cleaned. And that’s about it.

    But I see the mother call a servant over to give her the baby, then sit down, then demand the baby back, and then direct the servant to go back to whatever she was doing (while the grandparent sits there on the adjacent seat all this time, watching the interaction). I see a servant, upon command, rush past the family members to a spot in the garden, her arms full of washing, to pick up one of the children’s toys, bring it back to place it undercover and then continue with the laundry. I see a small, slight Indonesian woman, carrying a box of rubbish almost as big as herself up a flight of thirty stairs to the rubbish bin, while the husband casually walks past her, and I can’t help but think this is a terribly, terribly inefficient way to live a life.

    I think it all comes down to money. My friend, Parvathy, told me the following: you have two choices when getting a servant in Malaysia. You can go directly to a servant that’s been recommended to you, or you can go to an agency. If you deal directly with the servant, the initial costs are $5-6K with an ongoing monthly salary of about $400/month. If you go through an agency, the initial costs are about $8K, with an ongoing monthly salary of $550-$600/month.

    So, my neighbours have probably spent in the region of $20,000 in various fees and levies to get the servants started, and are then paying out, say, $1,500 a month in salaries. This does not include the extra drain on utilities and food costs. Now, that may not sound like much when converted from Malaysian ringgit to US dollars, but it all adds up. And, if you’re paying $38,000 for three servants in the first year, then I don’t care what currency you’re using, you’re going to want to get your money’s worth.

    When it comes to having servants, getting your money’s worth means, essentially, being a selfish slob, and I would like to thank the neighbours for being such clear-cut examples of this. Having servants means you don’t have to worry about modern conveniences, such as we have. I’m talking here about a dishwasher and vacuum cleaner. And I’ve heard some families even eschew washing machines for the “biological” alternative. For us, all our devices provide a quick and time-efficient way to get through various cleaning chores. But, if you’re spending serious dosh on servants, then that’s the last thing you want. If you have servants, you want things as primitive as you can make them. You want those people to expend some serious energy scrubbing the pans (no dishwasher), or sweeping/mopping the floor every goddamned day (no vacuum cleaner), or doing laundry with every sunrise (no washing machine). Why? Because you’re not paying them to stand around and do nothing while the machines churn happily away. Good dogs, that means you’re paying for them AND the electricity, when you could — by doing away with the mechanicals — cut costs and have your servant do it for you.

    Imagine it. You’re walking through the house and you see one servant studiously mopping the floor. Another dusting the ceiling fans. And the third scrubbing clothes. You get that comforting glow by knowing that your money is well spent. No matter that you don’t have to clean the ceiling fans every day. Or the floors. All three people are busy, which justifies the amount you’re paying. Just to make sure that things stay as harmoniously productive as they are now, you suddenly find that there is no imperative to hang your clothes up at the end of the day. No imperative to make the bed. Or clean the bathroom.

    In fact, by just dropping everything as, and when, the whim takes you — and encouraging the other family members to do the same — you’re justifying the wages you’re paying even more, by making sure the servants will have no free time to stand around, not earning the ninety-three sen (cents) an hour ($500/month divided by 18 hours a day x 30 days a month) that you are paying them! Fiendish, isn’t it?

    You know what’s even worse? If I was so inclined to have a live-in servant, that’s exactly how I would think, all good intentions to the contrary. It’s the slippery slope of morality and — I’ll be honest with you — I’m terrified of it. So terrified that I don’t even want to peer over the edge in the first place. That’s why we don’t have live-in servants (which seem to be the most pernicious kind). I don’t want to turn into my neighbour. I don’t want to be a selfish, arrogant slob with delusions of grandeur because I have the power of employment or deportation over another human being. And if that makes me seem superior and arrogant in turn (and I’m aware it might), well at least that’s an arrogance I can live with.

    ADDITIONAL:
    An exception I can think to the whole live-in servant argument is where you have an invalid family member living at home. In that case, for the sake of sanity of all people concerned, a live-in carer seems to be the best option. Exploitation can still occur, but I can more clearly understand the motivations behind the decision. (Note that I’m not even touching the intricacies of family dynamics with this topic, just going with the most obvious motivations and consequences of live-in servants.)

    Having said that, while I can understand the situation for families undergoing stress, with ones such as my neighbour, I can’t.

    AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT: There’s a new widget on my blog, just below the Radio Free Bliss feed and Visitor Map in the side margin. (In fact, it should be just to your right if this is the most recent post.) If you have an id with Google, Yahoo, Open ID, etc., you can sign in and identify yourself as a “follower” of this blog. (With thanks to Maria for the suggestion in the first place.) I think it would be cool to track back and see what readers of this blog (obviously people of exquisite taste and rapier-sharp intellect) write about, so feel free to “follow”! Just what I need, right? More distraction!

  • Incident at the checkout counter

    1

    A couple of weeks ago, J toddled off to the supermarket to get some much-needed grocery staples while I kept an eye on The Wast and Little Dinosaur as they trudged through their homework. Lucky me. When J came home, he had an anecdote to tell me that was, at first, quite amusing and then, upon reflection, quite sad.

    The lady at the checkout was a young Indian. As she scanned J’s trolley-load (and he can buy the darndest things, by the way), she asked where he was from. This is a standard question in these parts, so he was quite happy to say it was Poland. She then asked if he was married. Uh yes, he replied. Hadn’t she noticed the wife and two small kids tagging along several times every week on the grocery rounds? Oh. In that case, she asked, did he have any Polish friends who were looking for a wife? The checkout lady presented herself well, could speak good English, and even pointed out her name from the nametag. You know where to find me if there’s someone available, she said in conclusion.

    After my eyebrows rose at the thought of someone even slightly propositioning my husband, I had to admit to a deep sadness. You see, it’s usually either the greedy or intelligent who are looking for an orang putih husband. Let me give you another two anecdotes before I continue.

    Last year, I was on a training session with several colleagues and one of my Chinese Singaporean peers, while explaining the horrendously low birth rate in Singapore, drew a diagram for the rest of us. It was a simple 2×2 matrix. Across the top were 2 columns marked: Men, Women. Down the side were 2 columns: Educated, Non-educated. The problem, Tan (not his real name) explained, was this: the Educated men :: he drew an arrow from Men/Educated to … :: want to marry the Non-educated women :: … Women/Non-educated :: because, in his words, “nothing scares an Asian man more than an intellligent, assertive woman”. The Non-educated men :: arrow from Men/Non-educated to … :: also want to marry the Non-educated women :: … Women/Non-educated :: because that’s who they’re most comfortable with. Can you see the problem here? :: circles Women/Educated :: With both educated and non-educated men after the non-educated women, Tan pointed out, the local educated women are left out in the cold. Their only option is to marry orang putih men and, in all probability, subsequently hightail it out of Dodge (or Singapore, as the case may be).

    ASIDE: Now, Singaporean men generally make the claim that educated Singaporean women are waaaaay too fussy and only concerned about the 4Cs: career, credit card, condo and car. (Or should that be 5Cs, since credit card is a double C? Anyway, you know what I mean.) Whether a man actually has a good heart, and is warm and honest, is of no concern to the modern Singaporean woman, the men say, if he doesn’t also have a six-figure annual salary to go with it. And that would cut a bit more ice with me if it hadn’t been a professional Singaporean male himself who drew and explained the 2×2 matrix. Let’s move on.

    One of my new friends is a married Indian lady whom I shall call Parvathy. And, while we were chatting, she told me how happy she was to be married to her husband, a serious and straightforward fellow Indian who believed in equality and had a live-and-let-live attitude to life. Parvathy told me she couldn’t imagine being in India, with the kind of Indian men around. “Oh, the stories I’ve heard,” she said over our cups of tea. “Do you know that some men expect their women to wash their feet every morning when they get up from bed? And I’ve even heard of some women having to drink the water from that basin as a sign of their fidelity. Have you heard of such nonsense? When they have their periods, the wives have to sleep on the floor next to the bed because they’re considered unclean. They have to wake up an hour before their husband, make the breakfast and the more extreme men will even demand that the wife strew the path from the bedroom to the dining room with flower petals to show their devotion. The wife then has to kneel in front of the husband and do some obesiances to prove that she knows he’s the master of the house.” She shook her hand at me. “I don’t do any of that and if Ramesh (her husband) ever expected me to, he’d be out on his ear! That’s why,” she concluded, “I could never marry a man from India.”

    It’s very easy to say that these are the practices of uneducated people, and so dismiss the appalling sexism inherent in my anecdotes, but that’s not true. I’ve heard similar stories from relatives of doctors, lawyers, accountants and teachers. And, as noted above, it spans races. Even the so-called decadent, “Westernised” Eurasians are not immune to this kind of atrocious discrimination, as I can personally attest.

    So, to get back to the checkout lady, she was probably considering all the options and coming to the realisation that the only chance she had to escape a life of compliant drudgery at best — or violent death at worst — was to try and marry an orang putih. Only, you and I know that they’re not always all they’re cracked up to be either, don’t we?

    ADDITIONAL: I’ve only just found out about the Quiverfull movement in the States (here’s a Salon article on it and here is a blog from a woman who helps support other women coming out of fundamentalist movements … a worthy goal). In essence, Quiverfull (a white-majority movement … so far) adheres to a strictly patriachal view of the Bible, and is anti-abortion, mostly anti-contraceptive and anti-feminist (women belong in the home, preferably pregnant, and leaving all decision-making to the husband). So you can read about it for yourself, here is Quiverfull’s main website.

    What is interesting about Quiverfull, and movements like it, is that it takes its cultural norm of gender equity (a notion that hasn’t reached Asia yet) and subverts it through religion. I say that because Quiverfull is most active in the United States, Australia, Canada and New Zealand, all of whom have supposedly very strong views on the equality of men and women. So, if you can’t get ‘em through culture (as Asia does in any case), get ‘em through religion.

    I’ll probably explore this thought a little more in future blogs but, for now, I’ll leave the last word with Cheryl, the woman who set up the support group for other women trying to escape from the tar pit of fundamentalism. This is what she says on her site:

    Since my excommunication [from the Quiverfull community] I have worked hard to make sense of my experiences and to place them in the larger context of a world in which all women are still second-class citizens, and in which women in fundamentalist religious [and cultural, I'd like to add here --kaz] groups of many kinds remain, for all intents and purposes, the property of their husbands.

  • A bit of nostalgia

    1

    I read in The Age yesterday that the Sudanese community, for one, are finding it difficult living in Australia. As the article put it:

    Most of the 200 Sudanese youths interviewed by the Victorian Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission had been racially abused or pelted with wine bottles and eggs while waiting at bus stops, with slurs including “black monkeys”, “little niggers” and “chocolate bunnies”.

    Now, you see, while I was going to school in Australia (a private, Catholic school, by the way), the other children called me a “black monkey”, “slant eyes”, “slope” and “wog”. (As well as “propellor-head”, “four eyes”, “thick”, “stupid” … you know, all the usual things hurled at an A-student). I’m not sure if I was ever called a “little nigger”, although I was called a “black bitch” and told to “go back to the trees” where I came from, so I think I tie on that one.

    While dating at University, a boyfriend’s father told me that (a) his son would have difficulty finding me in the dark, (b) I couldn’t be distinguished from a drum full of discarded motor oil if it wasn’t for my eyes, and other such niceties.

    When I started work (as a computer programmer in Australia with an American-based multinational), I was called “chocolate bunny” and “chocolate drops” by the Sales Manager, and told by a very witty Telstra manager that he had mistaken me for an Asian prostitute as I was waiting for my ride home after work one day. I mean, the office building was on the edge of Chinatown, I was Asian, so what did I expect, right? Ha ha ha … oh, my ribs were aching from that one, it was so funny. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

    So, to hear these exact same terms used, decades later, and the exact same attitude in play (all Africans are thugs / all Asian women are prostitutes) brings a warm glow of nostalgia to my heart.

    Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose, eh Australia?

  • Ranty McRant: Perspective from the south

    2

    So, the International Criminal Court’s prosecutor, Luis Moreno-Ocampo, has issued an arrest order against Sudanese President Omar Hassan al-Bashir for his role in the Darfur atrocities that have claimed 300,000 lives (according to UN estimates).

    Firstly, let’s talk about the ICC, of which neither the USA, Russia, China or India are party to. An article at First Drafts (the blog of Prospect magazine) also informs me that:

    So far, the ICC has pursued cases only in Africa, and has not investigated any western complicity in alleged war crimes, crimes against humanity or genocide, whether they be in Iraq, Afghanistan, or most recently in Gaza.

    Man, can I tell you something? As a person of the Global South? We’re so so so so sick of this. Americans can dump phosphorus on civilians in Fallujah (confirmed by Italian journalists and TV crews) and not a goddamned thing happens. Israel can dump phosphorus on civilians in Gaza (confirmed by world + dog) and not a goddamned thing happens. But one African dictator is complicit in the murder of other people and suddenly the whole world is alight with righteous indignation. Yes, yes, of course what happened is a bad thing, but talk about double standards, people!

    Donald Rumsfeld can handwrite on a memo that he wants prisoners (who have been convicted of nothing, by the way) tortured. “Make sure this happens!” says Donny, and it gets quietly sunk in a morass of convenient concussed-goldfish amnesia. A US President, UK Prime Minister and Australian Prime Minister can collude to invade another sovereign country based on lies, leading to more than one million deaths, and … nothing happens. But one pissant dictator in some African country does something wrong, and suddenly everyone’s aghast.

    The Security Council was responsible for referring the Darfur case to the ICC … after the United States conveniently made sure that its own citizens were immune from any subsequent prosecution. Do you think we don’t notice these things?

    Can I share a dirty little secret with you? The average ex-second- and third-world person is actually quite happy that the Western economies are in meltdown. Gives you less chance to play colonial master to the rest of the world. My father was a UN peacekeeper in the Belgian Congo more than forty years ago. He came back to Malaysia hating the Belgians for how they treated the Congolese. Heard about that one? The arbitrary chopping off of hands and feet from the people famous for their chocolates? How about the cold-blooded execution of children (from a sniper’s rifle to the back of the head in one pure and perfect shot) from the descendants of the Holocaust™? How about the murder of Asians whose only crime was the desire to govern themselves, by a list of the who’s-who of Western powers? How about the entire attemped genocide of a people from the friendly and “multicultural” land Down Under?

    And so you’ve finally decided to (yet again) pick on some small-time bully while letting all the really big players, like yourselves, off the hook. Congratulations. What’s next? Stealing pocket money from poor kids?

  • Don’t read if you’re a writer … plus Total-E-Talk!

    0

    I was zooming around teh intertubes today and came across a couple of initially disparate posts that, unfortunately together, are enough to drive a writer to drink, if she wasn’t already there to begin with.

    I’m a regular reader of literary agent Nathan Bransford’s blog and, in his latest on dealing with frustration, he mentioned the following:

    When you hear about a publisher jumping from $2.5 million to $3 million in an auction for a celebrity book, it’s easy to think, “Uh… that publisher just nickle and dimed my client and refused to give them even $1,000 more when they really deserved it. And they passed on another project because they didn’t want to take a risk on a debut. But they won’t even blink at jumping $500,000 in an auction for a book about Paris Hilton’s chihuahua?” (Okay, it is kind of a cute dog. Also I’m kidding, that’s not an actual book. Yet. UPDATE: Oops! Yes, it is.)

    And he linked to the Amazon page for a book called — and I kid you not — The Tinkerbell Hilton Diaries: My Life Tailing Paris Hilton, about Hilton’s dog, Tinkerbell. A sample of the writing:

    Say, want to know how the morning went? Well I’ll tell you: I just spent 20 minutes (that’s an hour and a half in dog minutes) watching Lady Einstein here try to stuff a USD100 dollar bill into a vending machine. ‘I never have anything smaller than a hundred,’ she actually yelled at it before calling it a ‘complete retread’. I think she meant ‘retard,’ but who the Christ knows. She’s in the other room sulking and drinking from the tap. I spent the rest of the morning trying to lick a power socket.

    Heady stuff, people, heady stuff. Okay, so all of us writers know that, even with the wordsmithing skills of Heinrich Böll, we’d still end up waaay behind a book on the kind of stuff that gets stuck on Jerry Seinfeld’s shoe as he walks through New York City. But then, like an uppercut just after a solar plexus jab, via Andrew Wheeler’s blog, came this gem from LJ blogger, vandonovan who just HAD to reproduce two pages from a book by Ron Miller called Silk and Steel.

    ASIDE: Have you ever noticed how lively LJ (LiveJournal) is? It’s like an exuberant, chaotic mass of people falling over each other in a giant, moving tumble drier. I’d love to have a blog on LJ (at least then more people may comment on my posts), but I’m just too scared.

    You should go have a read. Really. I’ll reproduce my favourite passage, although I was spoilt for choice:

    Her breasts were citrus, they were soapstone; they were bright cumulus and the smooth fingertips of Musrum. Her breasts were honeycombs and dew-beaded windows, or soft, sweet cheese. They were sweet apples; they were glass, they were cowries. They were the twin moons of the earth. The nipples rose like mercury with her heat. They rose like monuments atop flowered hills, above deserts of hot sand; the nipples were savory morels, with the flavor of the forest.

    Okay, if some dude compared my breasts to soft, sweet cheese … I mean, think about that for a moment. Soft … hmmmm, okay. Sweet … depends, maybe okay if you’re speaking in a figurative sense. Cheese?! WTF? If you liked this excerpt, you’ll love the paragraph on her pubes, where Miller decides that “pubes” is singular, whereas I’ve always been of the opinion that it’s plural. Any comments?

    That’s all the good stuff. The bad news was that Silk and Steel was published by Ace Fantasy in 1992 (although it’s currently only available through Timberwolf Press, of which I know nothing).

    And, with a lot of talk going around about how to get prominent author blurbs on your own book, do you want to know why they never, ever, ever sway me (and, in fact, tend to put me off)? It’s because Silk and Steel, according to Amazon, got the following endorsement from Sir Arthur C Clarke:

    Ron Miller is unfairly talented

    Admittedly, Clarke may have been referring to Miller’s artwork rather than prose, but see how easily these quotes can be manipulated, if not engineered out of whole cloth? And who hasn’t heard rumours of cover quotes from prominent authors that never even read the book in question? No, I dislike cover quotes almost as much as I dislike Brazilian Catholic archbishops.

    Now that you’re in the depths of depression, what will perk you up? Why listening to me, of course! Don’t forget to trundle on over to Total-E-Talk this Saturday to catch my 30-minute show “What’s Hot with Total-E-Talk”. (Hopefully, all the technical glitches have worked themselves out this time.) It will include an interview with Maggie Nash, organiser of the first Australian Romance Readers Convention that was held in Melbourne last month. Timings for the show are:

    Malaysia/Singapore: Saturday, 14 March, 9:30am
    Europe: Saturday, 2:30am
    UK: Saturday, 1:30am
    US East: Friday, 9:30pm
    US Central: Friday, 8:30pm
    US Mountain: Friday, 7:30pm
    US Pacific: Friday, 6:30pm

    If you miss it, a recording should be available within minutes of the show ending.

    I’ll be honest. I’m going to be nervous. This will be live, as opposed to podcasting, so no little editorial tweaks allowed. Guest dial-in number is +1 718 506 1696 (charges may apply) or, if you have a headset and are listening via your PC, you can just press the “Click to Talk” button and try your luck. Remember, though, that you have to be logged in before you can use that option, and the sign-up procedure is multi-step and multi-minute. (Multi Pass. Sorry, just had to slip that one in.)

  • Why should we help?

    0

    In any other circumstance, I’m all for helping people. With regards to the people in the United States facing foreclosures, for example, there has been rabid criticism about why the average American taxpayer should bail them out? Besides the fact that it is really only the banks who are getting bailed out on ludicrously favourable terms that actually ignore the primary-source causes (the mortgagees), my reply has always been: Because it’s the decent thing to do for any society. (*)

    However….

    The IMF now tells us that we’re in a Grand Recession and the United States has appealed for joint action by nations against the crisis:

    In Washington, US Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke urged world governments to forge a common strategy to regulate the financial system in order to tackle the worst crisis since the Great Depression of the 1930s.

    “We must have a strategy that regulates the financial system as a whole, in a holistic way, not just its individual components,” he told the Council on Foreign Relations.

    As a child of the global South (besides goggling my eyes at a Fed Chairman using the dreaded word “regulate” in any statement AND the fact that he blamed the global South for this crisis in the first place only a couple of months ago), my response is: why? Why should we — maligned, primitive, immature, accented and other-hued post-imperialist natives — help the self-avowed Greatest Nation on Earth?

    It was the United States itself that precipitated this sad state of affairs. And now, with its military bombing everything that moves on almost every continent on Earth (only Antarctica and maybe Australia (*) are excepted), it now wants other nations to help it out? As John Gray from The Observer put it:

    Despite incessantly urging other countries to adopt its way of doing business, America has always had one economic policy for itself and another for the rest of the world.

    And he continues:

    The dire condition of America’s financial markets is the result of American banks operating in a free-for-all environment that these same American legislators created. It is America’s political class that, by embracing the dangerously simplistic ideology of deregulation, has responsibility for the present mess.

    And now, every other country in the world has to help the USA? I consider myself a charitable type of person but my charity does not extend to this egregious episode of unsupportable fundraising.

    Let’s put it another way. The country of Lesstopia has a solid economy but, over the decades, has been shutting down its own factories at the behest of corporate owners with politicians in their pockets. What’s more, these corporate owners have even used Lesstopia’s military in order to force small countries into unfair trading practices (United Fruit) and through coercion and massacres (the list is too long to even begin. Start with John Pilger and work your way out from there). But we can’t put the blame entirely on the corporate owners because Lesstopia itself loved to destabilise neighbouring economies, launching invasion after invasion of sovereign nations (the Philippines, to name a more obscure example) and even stooping to the assassination of leaders unsympathetic to Lesstopia’s world view (Salvador Allende).

    Pumped up with righteousness, Lesstopia stretched its dominance, maintaining more than one thousand military bases across the world, threatening every nation that thought differently to itself (all protestations of “free thought” to the contrary), and borrowing billions upon billions of dollars in transactions which were inherently unstable because there was nothing concrete Lesstopia had, to secure against such borrowings. Try that one at your local bank and see how far you get.

    Meanwhile, the Lesstopians continued to think that they were the greatest nation on Earth. Lulled into stupor, they became — and still are — moribund vessels accepting the biased media sound bites without a single democratically-inclined neuron firing (*). Iraq was responsible for 9/11. Afghanistan is the “good war”. We’ll find Osama bin Laden. We believe in democracy in every country in the world. All patent lies, easily refuted by every other person in the world … except the Lesstopians. Through domestic surveillance programs, witch hunts, electoral rigging and planned assassinations, the Lesstopians continue to think all countries should be modelled on theirs. It’s the kind of stuff that would have given Joseph Goebbels wet dreams. While he was still awake.

    But, as must happen eventually, the house of cards that is Lesstopia began to crumble. Its pals, those corporate owners, turned out to be speculators rather than patriots. The same, unfortunately, could be said of its politicians (*). After decade upon decade of giving in to the corporate owners, of ignoring — if not gutting — its own citizenry, Lesstopia now finds it owes gazillions … with nothing backing it. Parts of it are even reduced to handing out IOUs, much as Germany and Austria were doing (notgeld) during the hyperinflation of the 1920s.

    Now, imagine you are someone completely disinterested. You come across Lesstopia while it’s whining about its predicament. What do you do? If you’re a more charitable person than myself (i.e. someone who has either not lived on planet Earth, or a human who has never read anything in her/his life), you would probably say the following: You’re living beyond your means. Why don’t you cut out all the fat from your budget and then reassess from there? That means all the wars have to go. All the bases have to go. All the black ops money being poured into destabilising people you don’t like … gone! It’s a luxury you can no longer afford. Move some of that cut-down defence budget to building up your manufacturing sector again. Your foreign aid is tiny enough as it is but, if you must, start with cutting down on the largest recipients.

    If you’re a capitalist, you say: You’ve been building a bubble economy for decades now and, congratulations, we’re finally here when it pops. This means a sharp and painful correction, but it must be done. Call us when you think you’re almost through it and let’s see what you got. If you have some inkling of history, you may even say: Look, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last to go through this kind of madness. It happens to all empires, just that yours didn’t last as long as you were probably expecting. My advice is to just act with dignity, take it on the chin, look after your own citizens first and call us when you’re stable again.

    What you DON’T say is: Oh man, you’re too big to fail so how about we beat up everyone else until they hand over their wallets and then we give you the money. Consider it a gift rather than a loan, ‘cos we know you can’t ever repay it, right? :: wink wink :: nudge nudge :: Don’t worry about the military budgets. They look just dandy. Instead, cut out ways to make your citizens more productive and hit them with more economic obligations. And, while you’re at it, print more money. Yeah yeah, just fling it out there. I mean it’s not like anyone else will notice. In fact :: laugh :: it may even raise the value of your dollar! Bet Argentina wished they’d thought of that one. It’s called the “Superpower Defies Reality” theory of economics. Then we’ll all pretend that an economy that has no assets whatsoever can actually recover due to several judicious muggings and overtime at the printing press. Problem solved!

    So again, after a most long-winded parable, I ask you: why should any country help bail out Lesstopia, er, the USA? The country that lives by free-market capitalism should die by free-market capitalism. If the epithet holds true for formerly Communist bloc countries, then it should hold true for their capitalist counterparts as well. No convenient little forays into interventionism, protectionism, covert speculation and testicle-grabbing of other nations. (I say “testicle-grabbing” not to be sexist but grabbing breasts just doesn’t seem so painful in comparison.) Neither the World Bank nor the IMF gave such dispensations to other nations, so why should the United States get any more than any other country in the world? Send the IMF in there, I say. Do unto the USA as the Chicago School of Economics has done unto the rest of the world. Anything less is just not justice.

    (*) An interesting thought for another blog post.

  • A Pirate’s Passion

    4

    A reader once commented that the Cover Gods smile down on me. She was right. I love the covers for all my releases. And I utterly adore the latest one. If you sidled over to my website recently, you would’ve seen an upcoming release called “Kiss Me, My Pirate”. Well, my editor wasn’t too happy with that title, so it’s now called A Pirate’s Passion. And, people, here is the cover.

    Cover for A Pirate's Passion

    Isn’t it all flavours of awesome? Once more, Lyn Taylor has dazzled me with her skill. The book is due for release on Monday, 11 May, from Total-E-Bound.

    Here’s the blurb:

    Pirate Gil Ahn is after money, not romance. And if he keeps repeating that to himself, he may even start believing it.

    Gilthen Ahn is captain of the Darck Banks cartel, one of the more notorious pirate bands in Republic space. He has six ships under his command. And, unless he finds money to pay his debts, he’ll lose everything.

    Poor little rich girl, Tera d’Olzon, is trying to make a difference by thumbing her nose at the despotic Republic, but things haven’t quite turned out the way she anticipated. After running from the Security Force, she is “rescued” by Gil’s cartel.

    The reasonable thing for the cartel to do is to ransom her. But that won’t bring in enough money. So Gil hatches a plan….

    It’s a Pygmalion plot, this time with the properly bred woman teaching the rakish pirate how to be a Gentleman. Of course there are complications.

    I enjoy setting stories in the human-led galactic Republic. It’s so criminally corrupt, there’s always something going on that I can write about. This time I decided to concentrate on the pirate bands that roam Republic space, focusing on the Darck Banks cartel. If you’d like to read a longer (unedited) excerpt from A Pirate’s Passion, I have one up on my website. More details anon.

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