Kolonization of the Mind

Greetings most excellent and happy listeners and welcome to the random world of the Prekarian Poet Nicholas Jakari. And welcome also, to his tale about Saving… UBI: through a poetic interrogation of how we are kolonizing our own minds… And how can use this understanding to help us on our journey: to that Sci fi world where we all live on credits…

In this podcast I am going to introduce you to an old Utopian idea; now often called UBI, or Universal Basic Income.

This is an idea that the poet Jakari borrowed; and developed, as a fictional solution, to a fictional need: … for a series of stories, he was writing: called, kolektively: the Azanian Quartet…

That was nearly 30 years ago when he started writing “The Jonker Memorandum’, [Now part three of that Quartet. He completed the Jonker in 2010: and started podcasting it in serial form that year…

The Podcast was completed in 84 episodes in 2014… After which he abandoned it
and got on with part 4 of his planned Azanian Quartet. Part two btw is the Ashanti Raider… Available as a serialised tale also on Amazon.

These poetically allegoric tales start against the background of a real revolution, in what was at that time a deeply; offensively unpleasant, fascist part of the world.

The local revolution is [in his fiction]; was also interrupted by a cataclysmic disaster: a real one where we live and an essentially fictitious disastrous, Apocalyptic event… derived in part from a series of exceptional noises.

So he promoted the Jonker Memorandum with the statement … A story about how the world ended: and what happened afterwards…

Now a dozen years later, he been somewhat bemused to discover that a particular feature of his fiction, became, for a time, during the Covid lockdown period: … fact. In his country in the form of a grant; In the Firmian Federal Republic… what came to be called “Biden Bucks”…

Specifically, He refers here to that part of his fiction called: “Basic Pay…” Now being referred to as UBI remember aka Universal Basic Income… and one of the backstories in the Jonker Memorandum… A few footnote episodes in fact.

FX

This phrase, Basic Pay, was the slogan of his fictional Presidential contender in an equally fictional, forthcoming election… in that cyber serial Jonker Memorandum.

She, the story’s shero, Korinth Starr, asserted, as her base line election slogan: Basic Pay was “not a Grant…” i.e.: some form of public largesse… Rather: It was “Ours by Right.” … I.E “Basic pay is not a Grant it is ours by right”

Fx

This btw was a phrase, with which the poet returned from what he considers to have been, a most bizarre, and inexplicable journey. It was a journey of hallucinogenic quality, on an occasion, while undergoing surgery for multiple gunshot wounds… An experience he turned into Part one of his Quartet… That was The Buffalo Hunters… First published in ’96 now available on Amazon.

For reasons he won’t bore you with and probably can’t remember anyway, he chose to set part of his work in an evolving future: in his part of the world: in a time after a fictional global catastrophe.

And to do that he found he had to deal with one question that had been neatly sidestepped, by the many of his favourite, iconic sci fi authors. This was the idea that people in the future simply lived on credits …

Where they came from was never part of any of the stories.

But: Where these credits came from, tormented him while he was otherwise procrastinating, with Isaac Asimov, Frank Herbert, Robert Heinlein, Robert Bester, Ray Bradbury and the whole Hugo awards lists of the 60s.

Doing that: to put off completing his Economics’, term papers…

He never found an explanation back then; and confesses that the best he’s yet heard, is Paul Krugman’s observation that debt is: “Simply money that we owe to ourselves.”

Albeit Spengler of course put it more poetically… “Money is simply a state of mind…”

All Technically true but obviously way more complicated than that.

So why would a rational society choose to create a social network based on Basic Pay and where would the money come from…? Friend David … A serious mathematician, said Asimov was the king of sci fi; and he could invent credits if he wanted to… Stick with the science…

That was just a snazzy way of avoiding the question… I said …

There would have to have been a need… we all agreed.

So back then we agreed we needed a disaster…

Especially when we heard the leading politician, of one of the big finance countries, announcing loudly: back in the 90’s, that such a thing as Basic Pay, would need a global catastrophe for it to happen…

So… in the interests of literary endeavour we went in search of a catastrophe, in 1998…

We found something terribly tasty: and between the Prekarian poet, a shoemaker, a door to door salesman, a mathematician, a chemist, a nuclear physicist, a few geologists; and, ironically, one of the world’s most notorious, wanted hitmen, at that time. He was hiding out in Jozi:, and drinking in one of my then, preferred local pubs [a few years later on, we read in the Citizen newspaper that the fellow was arrested on an International arrest warrant: by Interpol].

That was when we kind of, all figured out, that he was in fact, a genuine: bad guy… and not just some guy who told cool stories in exchange for booze.

Nonetheless between us all we cobbled together a fictional global disaster of such epic proportions, that we could introduce basic pay as a backstory to the main plot…

What one has to do to come up with a few lines of fiction hmmm… You cannot simply make it up it has to be real… even if it is fiction.

Of course for a long time with Basic Pay, it was still financed out of the liabilities side of a balance sheet… which is where it remains to this day… Maybe.

FX Music bridge….

As a writer of fiction, he believes he somehow, serendipitously, slid into a magnificent satori moment back in 2018: when he abruptly figured out: where the solution could perhaps be…

That is:

How to move Basic pay from the liabilities side to the Asset side of a balance sheet.

And the secret he believes, as a writer of fiction, lies somehow, with how we presently value, this wonderful golden mountain that we have somehow created from a pile of detritus: and Accountants aside, haven’t specifically noted…

By this he suggests we are experiencing what some would call “a wonderful piece of collective delusion…”or What a Chinese delegate to the Davos thing a few years back called: “A Grey Rhino”: And hence as a line from the poem at the time goes…: …

“A grey rhino that so completely fills the screen: that nothing else can be seen…”

We are talking about that mysterious word: DATA

FX

The two pieces of poetry that follow result from this a satori type insight. An epiphany if you like… And the poem, “The Kolonization of the Mind” was first used in a blog by me in 2018… and also forms part of the introduction to part 4.2 of my Azanian Quartet fiction series. 4.2 is set in a time after a [fictional] global catastrophe…

So you are reminded that poetry is an allusional art… and metaphors run rampant perhaps… Our first piece is called “The invisible friend that must
Be shown to exist”

For offshore listeners the word Povo in the opening stanza, is a local word, for what Marx called the proletariat: A Roman word for people who have nothing to give but their offspring, and Firmian’s, who are also mentioned, is the poet’s word for a well-known, allegedly declining, superpower…

FX Bells

Hear ye
Hear Ye

Some will strive
To
Achieve
Nietzschean validation – the
Povo*
Will become automatonotik [sic]
Fiddling witheir [sic]
Mobiles
Seeking to affirm their intrin
Sic irrele
Vance.

Nonetheless
Machines don’t buy things!!
They dispense.

So… On what basis should we
Perceive
Value?

Given the thrust of
A digital economy:
In our search for value
That
Konektive
Konstrukt kalled
DATA:
Is the land that must be
Mined for
GOLD.
Peepil have become
Products
To be exploited for their
DATA value.
Should they not
Receive their
Rightful
Fee?

In Gold?
Yeah gold
You say data is
The new gold.
No… I said it was the new land
Waiting to be mined:

For what is in it.

Korektion it is already
prodigiously mined…
Does it pay rent?
Not yet.
Jakari [‘18]
SFX Simply signalling the end… ?

So what does this mean
For the future
Of everything…?
Logically:
The Monetisation of
Humanity
Through data derived
Micropayments.

Mmmm, there’s a scary thought….

Jakari[‘17]

FX Music bridge

The Kolonization of the Mind

FX Music bridge ######

In that place to which we

Are

Evolving [in my fictional world,

Anyway] at

Breakneck speed, a majority of

Ordinary people do not

[Apparently] have the com

Petence to do any

Thing more complex than

Shop: and mutter

OMG.

FX sfx or music mood music

The Mind as the New World

fX Tatara

We are witness now to what will

In decades to come, be seen as

A most momentous butterfly effect

Moment: in

The brief history of Modern

Homo

Sapiens.

The moment we realised that

We were witness to

And participants in: the kolo

Nization of the mind.

When we [some humans] colonized

[Allegedly empty] land

Back in the 15/16th centuries

Assuming everyone already

Living there

To be irrelevant to

Purpose

Mainly because they were

Undocumented, unlettered and

Innumerate

Primitives. Who could be overrun

with the whiff of

gunpowder

We

[The invaders] simply

Appropriated the land and

Its bounty:

As humans had done to

Other humans for many

Thousands of years. This bounty

Became a cost

Free

Windfall

[Almost: unearned].

For instance, plundering

Entire mountains of silver in the

Southern Outer lands

South of Firmia, brought

bounty; from which

Inordinate profits could

Be generated: with little

Or no regard for

The source.

The most fascinating aspect of the recent in

Terrogation of Mr. Z

By the Congress of the

Firmian elites… Senators and

Representatives

Alike

Was the latter persons’ complete incomp

Rehension at the scale of what had

Happened: while they had been busy

Ruminating…. On perennial

Peccadillo’s.

fx

There was a disconcerting sense of

The time machine. Here was

Cortez meeting the

Aztec royalty, who were

Baffled

At this predicted, even

Anticipated, yet

Unexpected

Arrival.

Mysterious people, with

Serious intentions: and powerful,

Inkomprehensible machinery. Then… whoops

Before they could say SH*T!! … They were in

History’s garbage bag.

In effect, the worthy Congresspersons became as

One with the beguiled

“Natives”, of many kolonized lands: faced

With the inkomprehensible.

Therefore, they trotted

Out their

Memes and

Things; and each, thinking ‘stomach’

First, asked all the

Questions regarding the inhe

Rent trivia of Mr.

Z’s offence?

Not one

However, of that

Kolektion of [apparently] f

Undamentally out of touch

Human’s e

Ven got to grips with the

Kore of the

Dilemma: facing their konstituents.

A Chinese participant in a Davos debate

Earlier this year, spoke

Of a Grey Rhino effect, which

He explained represented

“Something so huge it completely

Obscured

The screen”.

The Grey Rhino here is

The word

DATA

And the

Kolonisation of the mind

That it represents.

Naturally the more cynical

Amongst us

May argue that ignoring

The grey rhino is essential to

The continuation

Of their pleasure: which

At heart concerns the Kolonisation

Of the mind.

Of course that would assume they un

Derstood what was happening.

What does this mean?

Simply this.

Using the language of

Mr. Adam Smith…. He,

Famously, of The Wealth

Of Nations… We could say that

Mr. Z

[and

His illustrious peers] are the most

Successful kolonizers of all

Time…well at the moment anyway…

According to

The hype surrounding the man’s

Recent forage around the

Firmian Capitol’ he gains some 25

Billion dollars of

[Profit] annually from

Some 40 Billion $US[Firmian]

Revenue. In a competitive

World of

Razor thin margins that is beyond

HUGE.

The revenue comes from companies

That use the data given

So f

Reely by the b

Illions of

Users of Mr Z’s

‘Machine’.

They use the

Insights the data presents, to target

Prospects for product

Purchases, more efficiently

Than ever previously known.

Inherently, this means that, like

The Konquista

Dors, who found mountains

Of silver back in the 16th

Century; appropriated it from naïve

Possessors: like those

Who purchased Manhattan: for bags of

Beads; and

Achieved great

WEALTH.

Mr. Z [et al] have achieved a similar,

Inherently

‘Unearned income’. They are

The

El Supremo

Rentiers.

When Messrs.’ Smith and

Ricardo talked of ‘Economic

Rent’, they were referring

To this windfall effect

Resulting from control over the product

Of a natural resource.

In this case, data

Emanating from a human

Source: the ultimate in a natural

Resource… of course…

It also took about a hundred and

Fifty years back then: for the penny

To drop too.

We hope the penny will drop

Sooner, for humans

Today or the rest

Of the century could get seriously

Rough: especially for those

Absently

Left behind.

Jerome Powell [chair

Person of the Firmian Federal

Reserve,] admitted

Something in his opening

Salvo with the same group of

Kongresspersons, earlier

This year; [2018].

He dealt with a

Word that had raised some

Kurious questions

Amongst more heterodox

Thinkers.

He said that “The Slack”,

To which he made constant

Reference

When justifying

The kontinuing, no inflation

Trend of the past decade: was the

Availability of, equally kompetent,

labour

Forces:

In a globalized inter

Konekted world: People who would

Work for relatively less money

In spite of allegedly: full employment

Konditions in Firmia.

“The Elliot curve is kracked.” *…

They call…

The mob in here, are all

In thrall to

The slack,” he said: beyond the wall

The

Fifty million people across the

Planet

Living daily off a cyber-planet…

And who

Are an almost infinite

Resource at wage levels below

Those of the Firmian

Norms.

No one

Had ever admitted: that: before:..

Publically… anyway

So in building Fb Mr. Z’s true

genius lay in solving

one of humanity’s greatest

Needs… To be in kontakt

With one’s fellows; and

Through the power of

digitalization he [and all

the rest of the merry

band of tech’ dudes] ‘invented’

The things called

DATA… Symbolically

Packaging James Surowieki’s: “Wisdom

of Crowds”.

The DATA then… has become the new

‘Goldfields’ now; and the

Klondike rush is being relived: as he

Kapitalizes on a window of

Oppor

Tunity by ‘mone

Tizing’ his ‘free” source

Of ‘data’.

And as with the Silver

Exchanges of past time glory

No mention in the exchange pays rent

To the source.

No wonder the planet is all

Messed

Up. And getting

Hotter

By the day

As the greatest beneficiary of “unearned

Income” in history, the

Question the Kongresspersons should

Have been asking, related to that share of

Unearned income [i.e. Economic

Rent] that should be returning

To source, rewarding

Loyalty work

Presently

Given freely: in order

To sustain the virtuous

Circle of e

Xchange

That maintains

Their:

Ability to keep

Feeding

The

Machine

with.

DATA

FX Music

You have been listening to poetic pieces regarding the deeply undervalued and unexplored role of data in the future of human financial matters… These pieces were written by the prekarian poet Nicholas Jakari.

And they all dealt with an issue that is growing more problematic daily, as the Bear’s war in central Groland demonstrates… How does humanity futureproof itself against the coming chills of radical climate adjustments… a mtter rapidly gaining in urgency

And with a fragment of insight with which to tease your mind…

Jakari’s work can not only be found on Spotify but parts 1, 2 and 4.1 of his Azanian Quartet are all available on Amazon Kindle Publishing… As are a range of historically relevant poetry kolektions… compiled over the past half century of living in a brutal place… A dictatorship of the irrational, through two revolutionary insurrectional konflikts… Plus a devastating period of state capture, by Marx’s classic “Dangerous Klass” … Those he warned against in Part 1 of his Manifesto: published in 1848.

Part 3, of his Azanian Quartet, the Jonker Memorandum, will be moving from its present home for the past twelve years to address new listeners at Spotify and Anchor.fm.

And for those curious about this fictional idea, parts 4.2 & 4.3 of his Azanian Quartet are on the production line, for publication by October. They will indicate in their backstories what this revelation, still fictional remember, produced, as an outcome: to satisfy Asimov’s and Co’s positions on reflexive Credits…

We hope that you have enjoyed your time with the Prekarian poet and we look forward to sharing more prekarian economic tales with you…. Next time you drop by….

NJ signing off …

Cheers

FX music out

Shades that Orwell Missed

There is a savage irony about the Russian Ukraine conflict.

Russia understood themselves to be indestructible again. They had snatched Crimea, wicked Georgia for some of its terrirtory. Put whoever was stirring in Kazakstan in irons and then decided to annex Ukraine and have found themselves in a bad place.

And much as they want to rant and bluster they are in over their heads and losing troops boats planes and tanks for a minimal gain and have become the worst kids on the block to the world.

Worst of all they seem to have completely missed the extent to which they are putting themselves out of the emerging world game…

In reality they are a one point three trillion dollar economy that has decided to beat up an economy half their size. They have a thirteen trillion dollar economy dodgy neighbour on one side of them that seems to be playing friend with beneifits.

They are issuing threats to Ukraine’s friends who are a military alliance comprising combines eighteen trillion dollar economies… And being disturbingly annoying to the European Union that collectively is slightly bigger than their dodgy neighbour.

And then there is their “big bad wolf” antagonist enemy Firmia… Or if you prefer, USA, that is a twenty three trillion dollar enemy… and there are another fifteen or so trillion on the sidelines… Ultimately it is an unwindable conflict and if it goes nuclear… which is entirely possible then it will be eviscerated… notwithstanding how many nukes it has…

Nukes have never been used and have been waiting years how do they know they will work, will do so in devastating enough single blow that all opposition is overwhelmed immediately and they=re is no counter strike.

Russia winning is a seriously long shot… like betting that Apple [for instance] will close their business for cash shortish reasons… Somehow they missed the bows with their opening shots…

They will lose and the EU will levy charges for the damage. To get away with blowing a place up you need to win… And that means they will need a begging bowl… and people will forget to pay ever if they can be persuaded to carry the war damage costs…

China will retake it stolen urban hangout Now called Vladivostok… and Russia will have internal konfliks that could easily break up the Federation and will prevent it from capitalising on the massive coast line that will be available to them by 2070.

So blind to what is happening Russia is trading a muddy puddle of water within a controlled axis facility to grab a couple of relative fishing towns. that history will demonstrate to become obsolete before a child being born today turns forty… and could be sacrificing the prospective golden nuggets that could Vladivostok in the temperate zone environment many predict for 2070… And quite possibly part of an expending Chinese hegemony.

Analysis Paralysis@SONA

SONA Day 11th Feb 2022:                                                                                    

PrezBlunt                                                                                             
CameToTheHall                                                                                            ShowedUsHisSuitToBe                                                           
MadeHereWithGreenGasToldUsTo
Grow Dope

GrowBoom  
GrowGrass                                                                 

Short summary ends her… Big Story below

Warning: this entire poem is At least 1200 words long. Reading the whole thing could be injurious to your health. You’ve got the message … whatever is left may be long, boring and depressing…. Or maybe not… It could simply be satiric.

[Note: For offshore readers/listeners, a SONA is mnemonic for “State of the Nation Address” and all the Zansi’s’ important people are present there there for the address hoping…}

Why was it written?
I have no idea…
These things happen…  Usually…
a case of “Who cares…” SONA is a routine chore … A ‘Much ado about No Thing’… doing little that anyone remembers next Tuesday.” ]

This time is a somewhat different year tho’…

Last year something seriously bad happened in our country… Zansi, in Southern Afrika. Well many serious things happened, and few have been explained: but this deeply bad thing stood out more:.

Some called it an “Insurrection”; and there has also, never been a coherent explanation about that either … And hundreds of citizens died during that explosion of violent looting…

And it wasn’t the only oddball thing that has happened over the Covid era…

For instance: Fires have been impacting key things, hospitals, universities and now Parliament itself. Fires break out and burn for days; and are blamed on random things like homeless persons who somehow, have cigarette butts, that defy all fire raising logic…

As the ‘House of Assembly’ did last month… when it ‘caught’ fire and burned for days.

So this SONA is happening in the old City ‘Town’ Hall…  

What was it about? We hope you’ll find out.

The economy is stagnant, and simply sliding slowly, inevitably downhill… Some say “back to the more comfortable 19th century” So to use a 19th Century adjective:

“the Economy is in a Parlous Stagnant State”.

Question everyone is asking: “Will this SONA indicate a way forward…?” We will see…

Since stagnant is not the same as standstill: entropy is running wild… And parlous still means what it meant then…

As the Honourable MP General Holomisa, pointed out at least four years back, in a previous SONA …

“We are on the slippery slope…” No akshun since.                         

And so, we have continued downhill….

So this means expectations were up high; that a hugely compromised Prez… hemmed in on all sides by aggrieved power groups, both inside and outside his Party, will deliver some evidence that there is a positive way forward.

The Poet was sceptical and had no expectations at all… Assuming no thing….

Because, as you know, expectations are all too often a formula for disappointment… So…

Our journey starts nearby the City Hall, where occupants of a refreshment room, watch akshun on the TV….

————————0———————–

I’m drinking Koffee.” He said.                                                                                         
This is a Bar not a Koffee                                              
Shop…

I want koffee…                                                                                           
I never said I didn’t                                                        
Want booze…
If I can’t get it, I’ll go some                                                                              
Place where they serve
Both!

Oh. Sorry. Off course.
You can                                                                                   
Have Koffee           
What booze would                
You like?

Kane… I’ll have a bottle…    

                                                                                                   
We haven’t got any Kane.                                                                                                   

So.  You make it diffikult hey…?                                   
First no koffee, now                                                           
No Booze?

So I’ll settle for the koffee.

You have to have booze… to get koffee                                                            

                      
You haven’t got it…                                                       
So you can’t give it to me…

I see.                                                                                                 
Well we’ll meet with                                               
Our                                                                          
Suppliers and see what we can do                              
Before the winter break arrives…

Could I offer you a freshly made sandwich instead?

So we settled for the annual SONAstorm to begin…

————————–0—————————

What is happening?” Asks an insistent journo, outside the City hall.
Everything is sub judice [sub- joo- di-see] says a batonic waggling finger,
from an interrogated attendee: to queries from a gathered crowd of Newspersons…
You will know soon… She adds…
The curtain rises: –
——————0—————–

In The State of the Nation today: Dope rulz.                   
Says Prez.
Was he ‘Blunt’? Ayanda asked                                         
The room?
Who knows?                                                                                                        

                      
“We want to                                                                
Harness the powa                                                                                               
Of                                                                                                            
Industrial hemp                                                     
And Cannabis…”                                                                          
was the Prez prediction for Mzansi
Otherwise                                                                                       
SONA was its usual…                                                                                      

‘Things we gonna do          

                                                                                                   
Someday…’ affair
You know the score                                                              

We always want more….
Dreamy time again…                                

                                                                                                
No real Akshun result .                                           
Behind                                                             
The Glamour;soon overlaid with litanies                           
Of kollapse   

                                                                                                      
And disintegration… And a wondrous sense
of happiness…
It is freedom after all                                                                                                              

                            
THEN: Future tense; it lies ahead: It is not   
NOW              
WE will do things… in

Time to come: is not                                                         Now…                                                               

                                                                                                   
Sporadic applause… rattles the emptiness of                    
the packed old City Hall…  

                                                                                                                      
One clap                                                                       
Two claps                                                                                               
Three claps four  a                                                                  
Few more other claps                                                                
Add up to  min Score                                                                                              
As we   hunker down…          

‘Seven hundred kilometres of rural                                
Roads will be                                                              
Paved’. When?
We  do                                                                                  
Remember where                                                                
They are; and and are
Organising having meetings to
Decide on the criteria we should use to
Define the project concerned and then decide
where                                                                                  
We would be                                                                  
Going to start: before                                                          
We lost our way…                         

                                                                                                 
Three people clap
Yay                               

                                                                                               
We will                                                                                  
All do things                                                                        
And then things are                                                           
Likely to be announced as                                                  
We grasp our      

                                                                                                      
“Rosy nettle…” Yay… yay …yay…?

Quiet crowd… stares… waiting
Starting to notice that the seats are hard.

WE will investigate our                            
Current                                                                   
Journey… He tells us                                                          
Over                                    
Seventy                                                                    
Five Years…                       

                                                                                                              To go!                                     

                                                                                                      
Target of course… much                                                
Sooner, he quickly added, like                                 
Seventy     `                                                                    
Three: to our breath intake
Reaction….
And then for mis-                                                                                          
Direction; said “we shall                                                                                 

                 
Promote the possibilities of                                                
Our                                                                            
Green                                                                          
Hydrogen heritage…”                                                           

Many murmurs… rise in cadence…fall…                                                                                                       
What was this new exciting                                            
Word                                                                                    
We hear?                       

                                                                                                 
Not nasty things we hope                                                                                 

                     
Some pipelines we can                                                    
Grope about with.… for
a while                                                                           
longer… forage for opportunity?                                  

                                                                                             
To take to the future perfect: where                                  
We will take decisive                                                                 
Steps                                                                             

                                             
Again….   

Some of crowd spot the gap                                                   
A small
flurry of delight…   
To be blanketed with trivia

Smug smile … beams out…   

                                                                                                        
Bottom line: “We will do                                          
Wonderful things, this way:                      
Some day, when these                                                     
Plans will build on other                                               
Master plans …”                      

                                                                                              
Not Mistress plans? Note. Nor                             
Madam plans/Bossy plans Even                                                                                    
Person plans
That will…                                                                                         
Encounter; other plans, by other                    
Planners….                                       
To give away the
Miracle of
Free                       
Money….!!!!!!

Then Quickly slide in…                                                     

From our deeply frozen                                                            
Fiscus… He, as quick as breath came ,                                                                                 
Sniffing a mutter about                                       
Unfairness….                                                                     
And more tax…      
Added…                                                                                                     
To be dealt with later…                                                                                       
In the budget speech… Hand waves it away…

Kontention klamps forth in scattered mutters
And then…  

                                                                                                       
A quick return to other                                                           
Less kontentious                                                             
Plans by other                                                    
Planners… Like those bods at
business house B                                                           
Rhyming with knee… Sounding posh     .                                                            

                   
Who made a suit                                                                
That He was
Wearing…?                                                                                               

                       
A suit in chains of pomp and glory… Restrikted kut model

Look at me mommy!                                                         

Yay! Yay! Yay! The Prez has arrived!
The                                                                   
Murmuring crowd shuffled… Glancing                 
Awkwardly around; glancing
glances to see who else is                                                    
Glancing glances…                                                                                          

            
Envy control reigns…

One clap resounds…                                                                                                    

     
The face filled hall where people                                    
hover
in agonising                                                                      
Incredulity…
At the SMART suit???                                                             

Where is this going…                                                          
Why is                                                                                        
NO THING Happening???
Where’s our Bucks???

And.
Where’s our suits???????
And hope they all arrive                                                      
 In                                                                                   
Thirty or Forty                
Minutes…                                                                                    

Oh                                                                                     
Sorry                                                                     

Years   

                                                                                                       
At last… Twelve people clapped                                           
At least                                                                                  
It sounded like it was about twelve                          

Perhaps?

“We are,” Prez announced … Paused… Repeat
“We are now making… Suits…”
Again… quickly… at a gasp WHAT!!!
“Like we once did…”
Quick shift….

“One hundred days!                                                                                                    
We call for                                                                                                  
You to for                                                                           
Get to re                                                                       
Member just how we
Thought about how                                                                  
To Get Things                                                                              
Done                                                                                                         

Before we need another
hundred  Days…”  

                                                                                                      
Bright cheery smile to…                                                                                              
Silence…

To… of course…                                                           
To work out a….?   Casts about…                                                             

                                                         
“National Social Dialogue!…”  He rattled off…                              

As though we all knew                                                     
It was something
known
by                                            
More than few… That has                                                     
In the past been for                                                  
Gotten….

—————0—————–

News reports:            

                                                                                                 
“President ‘mulls’                                                          
 Ending things like                                                                                                         “Disaster State”
And                                                                         
The need to Finalise
our thinking about                                                           
What we
should be doing about                                                               
Extending                                                                                      
Free Money up to the next   
General                                                                        
Consensus survey
In Twenty                                                                      
Four…

Catch them hungry                                                                                         
Catch them                                                                   
Falling….

Mercury reports: Plans Must bring                                                                          
Akshun…

“Surely” … They add. “A plan
with                                                                                                     
Out
Akshun is only                                                                          
Wishful Thinking…
Isn’t it?”

AGAIN!!!                                                                                                     
No, No, No:                                                                            
They cry.                                                                                         
Give 
Us                                                                          
Another moment                                                                                           
Konsequences must be konsidered to           
Apply                                                            
Again                                                                                     
To the things we for                                                 
Got to remember….

So Prez Vows: they say, to                                                                                                     
Akt on things                                                                       
He previously Vowed to be                                                                                     
Akted upon in the                                                             
Last many                                                                                                      

                 
SONA’s
           

Klap Clap Krap

Bonus:                                                                                             
RedTapeIsBad                                                       
WillAppointGroupAddMore                                                 CutSomeBackABitAsWellThen                                                              
We Win

And these warriors of the Kuttings                                                                        
Will assiduously                                                                                  
Eliminate a few                                                                            
Things [AGAIN] that do not get the                                                       
Point…
And add, naturally, new rules of procedure:…

When you say?  How much?                                                                                   

Estimated cost… [of what] will, due to                                         
Fiskal Pressure [a dread disease no doubt]                                  
Add ghastliness: So to do
it [eliminate red tape ?] then             
We shall strive…  

                                                                                                              
And our goal                                                                                           
Will be to finance things…                                                                

[more things/same things?]                                                                    

Through the …… 

[pauses… for fx] Imagine drum roll echoing with joyous favour

Sale of Tea and Sandwiches!!!                                                                             

                     
Which will be                                                             
Announced.                                                                     
Just as soon as they are sufficiently                           
Stale….

Sowetan news avers:                                                                                           

“The High Road for Zansi”             

More Kannabis to be grown                                         
Check your Krop      

And then, in case they knew not how to do this strange thing: a
Previously also                                                     
Unmentioned
“Afrikan Advisory Group”
Will help our people                                                                            

                
Who were never allowed to grow it: since             
 Forever…                                                        
About … [Drum roll]                                                               
How to prepare this… [more drum
roll]                                                                                                
This new found wonder drug  

                                                                                                        
For the                                                                                   

                          
Usual: mere few Billions more…?                                     

From our formerly frozen fiscus… And                               
We will sell more sandwiches!!!
And they shall give the project… Our famous      
Momentum….

Yes, the Presidential SONA was                                         
More than usually blunt at times: and said                  
Finally                                                                           
That :…

“We are looking into the possibility                                             
of evaluating ways                                                                
of improving                                                                  
Schools … Sometime soon…                                                
And…
Supplying Lavatories…”                                                                                    
Because” [enigmatic pause]                                                                             

                           
“Good choices always provide comfort….”
———————————0————————

Meanwhile                                                           
Offshore we live in                                                                      
Orwell’s ‘War of Worlds’ on Morphed out                
Television screens                                                     
Again                                                                                          
As the gift wrap of Eternity                                                                                           Envelopes us in good                                            
Intentions… And the awful Koloniste                       
Klass back in Groland
Face off with                                                                     
Bears…
And Firmia spells out a strategy                                       
that once brought… Pearl Harbour                                                                                                

                       
While back here, the Prez.                                                
Does the finger’s touch thing for left                                
and right                                                                              
fervently wishes for                                                   
Some Antediluvian dinobaby era:                    
 Harry whatsis…An AI Groda[sic]                                        
Wizard entity; to whisk their                                                       
Wands:                                                                                       

                                        
And make it all go away….                                                           

The crowd disperses                                                     
clutters the foyers                                              
mutter expletives                                                                
like virgins despoiled,                                                      
once again
rush to cluster…                                                                      
What the
F*%#!!???!!               

——————-0—————–

Until a moment of routine glazed                       
Konfektion reminds us….                                                                              

                     
We are here…

—————————–0————————–
I’m drinking Koffee.” He said.                                                                                         
This is a Bar not a Koffee                                            
Shop…

I want koffee…                                                                                        
I never said I didn’t                    
Want booze…
If I can’t get it, I’ll go
some                                                                            
Place where they serve both!

Oh.
Sorry.
Off course. You can                                                 
Have Koffee                                                                  
What booze would                                              
You like?

Kane… I’ll have a bottle…                     
We haven’t got any Kane.                                                                                               
So.  You make it diffikult hey…?                                        
First no koffee: now                                                            
No Booze?                                                                                     
So I’ll settle for the koffee.

You have to have booze…                                                                                           
You haven’t got it…                                                                  
So you can’t give it to me…

I see.                                                                                                                                           
Well we’ll meet with          Our                                                                                                  
Suppliers and… And…
And have discussions to                                             
Think about what we can do…                                                 
Before the winter break arrives…  

Would you like a sandwich though?
It is almost stale…They said…                                                                                                              
Twelve people clapped.                                                      
At least                                                                            
They think it was twelve?                                         

Perhaps?

We thought the Prez was blunt again: when                      
He said more thought
was needed on most things…  

Yes. Ok. A sandwich will do… for now. And                                                                                                      
A well decorated; curling beautifully
at the edges, like a
Good, fine bread saamie:,                                                 
Is passed over by                                                                           
The relieved guardians                                                       
At the barely used City Hall: who                                     
Felt well used again… hardly energised                              
As yet another annual SONA                                             
Sandstorm Passed                                                                                            
By….

Jakari ‘22

A Berber Barber called Bubka

Very occasionally in my life I have experienced a haircut done entirely with a comb and straight back razor. No clippers, electric or otherwise, or scissors [shears].  Our wonderfully democratised region brings however a breed of barber from previously unpermitted places… and so we have differing experiences, now: to what we were previously accustomed.


I am a Berber Barber

Called Bubka, from a

Place near Ksar

EL Baukari where we

Abhor

The Shear that

Brings only

A tear

Till the customer roars “Where

The fuck are we!”

So we sharpen our

Edge

While we

Trim off

Your hedge

And slash not

Your

Pipe:

Never

Fear.

!!NiK[09]

All Tax is Theft

The idea is an ancient one. My thanks to Mr. Robert Nozik for the phrase that forms the headline.


Economies are desperately difficult things to run at the best of times. In these times, where financial affairs operate in such exponentially accellerating frames per nanosecond time frames while bureacrats function at the same pace they did a century ago.


Presently the place where Jakari resides, has insisted on rebranding itself as part of a kolektion of territories on the planet, now called: “The Fragile Five”[ref: Bloomberg: this week.]


The rebranding currently involves a call to Konfiskate chosen properties without regard to Kompensation. This argument could take a few years. The “financial markets” are deeply konstraiined and a startled moment this week in emerging markets caused by some bad tempered behaviour on the part of a few of the new emerging [so-called] putative wannabe tyrannical STRONGMEN that are happening around the planet.


One strategy that has also become trendy again on a new circle is the labelling of things as: “Socialist” or “Capitalist”. Problem is the hybrid economy we now have morphed into, in practice, is at best neither: and at worst regressive. It is in fact a global casino economy that shifts about on monstrously huge battalions of debt; and to remain functional at all, at its best, it needs to move about the planet like a Olympian Ice ballet dancer. Then and for intangible reasons people become happier.


At its worst it becomes fractous. And thhings are getting faster. It is currently increasingly fractous; and the possibilty that one of the FAce Off men miscalculates his Tarentino role and missteps is on an upcurve. And then the parts of the world on the ends of the whip get cracked.


Do i write this out of habit. To an extent. The problem relates to money and the idea that MONEY is slippery elusive and routinely created out of mountains of debt and most fake… ie FIAT [a polite word for fake]. This means that the algorithms that manage the flow of money are increasingly, and exponentially what moves everything faster than politicians can finish speeches.


And; talking about algorithms that word wasn’t invented in its present contexts when i wrote the piece below in May 2000, eighteen years ago. That was then six years into this project, and two years after i had chosen to base my catastrophe that affected the planet, on an exchange of underground explosions of a nuclear form between two warring factions in South East GrAsia.


Six in all over a period of some six months. A situation that i assumed [wrongly i hoped] was equivalent to a triple nuclear double tap. During that year the six year old post revolutinary government in my part of the Fragile Five, announced punitive tax demands on those citizens who had been beneficiaries of a brutal slave system. Capital flight took the local currencies to lows so far down that it took at least fifteen years to reach them again.


At the height of the frenzy that year a political spokesperson for the [so-called] RULING [nogal] Party… [aren’t democracies governed rather than ruled… we were ruled, then we were liberated, now we are ruled again by the liberators???] announced a campaign for people everywhere to write poems about the economy so that the country could grow.


I was on a mission that year [2000AD]. I was between thoughts, texts and centuries. I had chosen to wrote a poem a day all year. Rule: one new poem every day… length: whatever happened. On that day i heard the call to write a poem about the economy and so i wrote “All tax is Theft”. [it turned out to be the longest of the 800plus pieces i wrote that year much of which was filed] This one was however a favourite. And compared to the auld days of 2000, the pace now, is exponentially thousands of times faster than then: and is mostly enacted by machines… that have no feelings.


Outside of the various classes with whom i used it that year to inspire a grasp of the insanity of money, you will be the first friends… May it liberate your thoughts on money and above all… Enjoy.

With love

All Tax is Theft



A response to a strident call from a Stakhanovite style apparatchik for ‘poems about the economy’. The call was made in the context of confiscatory “take it all back” tax proposals:


OR


The twelve bar globalisation break down Stalinist Blues song.


29500
Tax, history, computers, investors
and the concept of delete consciousness:
the issues of today.


The world of today is the world of
Delete consciousness,
Nay!
I never heard of that.


Those who live today
Are not the same as those
People who lived here yesterday!
The people of today have deleted
The people
Of yesterday
From their consciousness, in order to cope
With today


To demand of the world of today that it should pay for the
Deeds of yesterday
Is an idea which can only
Begin to work if people decide to love
A Demander today.
It is no longer enough to be loved
Then
It has to be now.


On the Dow. The product must have
Credibility,
And unspeakably sharp and acute
Marketing methods to get good attention
That attracts velvet paws
And a favourable mention.
Ok.


The idea of taxing anyone
Especially
As a form of reparation
Is a demand,
Which must be analysed
In the context of what happened to
Other similar taxes in the growing of the nation:
The general state of the tax inflation
Process,
The treatment of corrupt tax thieving officials
Caught, as it were, during recess:
Generally what the
Taxpayer gets after the promises have been
Deducted from the bill;
Instead of “fuck you, stand back,
I haven’t emptied the till”.


Securing invested money: that is
Securing other people’s money, honey
Extends through risk evaluation
To the limits of gradation, mixed
To bland computerised credulity
Impacts upon the premium
We have to pay
For nice clean offshore money:
Instead of dirty honey, hey, where
The anti collective collectors
Karry Kalashnikovs and K….


All Tax is Theft. Especially those bereft and
Confiscatory deductions
Like capital gains disruptions
Which are scary to all those marys
Who seriously dispose with
“Other people’s” woes, by handling their cash
To demo’ overwhelming dash:
At the same time, with great care ,
Beneath an open stare.


Investors are owners of money.
They are not politicians or something
Else funny.
It may be in doubt they are human at all;
Concepts wired up
With a screen for a wall to show memory:
Spewing out models of risk
And uncertainty.
Measuring the loot of the world’s
Aging billions:
Cash that adds up to hundreds of trillions.
What you did last month doesn’t matter a jot
It’s what happening now that counts for the lot.


When a butterfly tumbles
And performs in Peru
The red card is flagged from computer to you. The
Risk model says the risk
Factors have altered:
That risk you took last week has now
Gone and faltered.
So follow instructions: delete from the programme
That order we called
And that hold put on Put.
The rate must go up
Or the cash go on out.


Perceived expectations: perceived quantum
Risk
Modified market uncertainties
Frisk
Down our hopes
Batters our fears
Causes the money to stop
And change gears.


Perennial problems perplex perceived risk.
Confusion of outcomes presents the most risk
To one who man’s mountains of money: to plan and to
Do and to follow things through to
The end:
Which should always be happy.


Should this Hollywood twitch
Suffer a glitch… should heaven transform into hell
When success equals misery,
Inconsolable outrage,
Mixed in with
Anger
As
Well.
Then confusion will reign
The markets feel pain
And the cash is away before
losseswillclaimallthegain.


In other words: In the world of money
Something is done; which is not at all funny:
A result is achieved, expected or not.
There are no relative gains
For corporate aims,
But returns, as predicted.
If results are in doubt,
Then someone with clout
Changes course,
Before loss is addictive.


When bosses complain, cash workers feel pain
And the outcome is bad for the homeowner’s loan and the girl
Who was Jill becomes Jane.


Alt.F1 delete part one: next transaction please.


!NiK(2000)

Revelations 101

With apologies to Albert Camus:

Mother lied yesterday.
I didn’t know that she lied:
Remembered with a shock childhood
Injunctions enforced
With the buckle on the end
Of a leather strap tearing
The flesh on my four year old
Back
And more
Again and again as we grew
Crippling me so I could never so much as bend
The truth even
At the tip
Without a tell tale tearful twitch
Of the upper lip.

“If there’s one thing I can’t abide” she would hiss
out at me
“it’s a liar; a liar
a liar… see.

And now she lied and boasted that she lied: exulted
In a lifetime of evasive
Lies
And whereas one could often
Ask of one
Who lied
Whether anything they say
Could be true
In this case she had been
‘busted’ and was henceforth brash and brazen and
boldly through and through.

So mother lied yesterday
And I do not have to be uncertain about it
Albert
Because she admitted publically
that it was true.

!NiK[2011]

Remembering 11th Feb 1990

Listening to the news this morning i realised that it was twenty years since Nelson Mandela came out of prison and [later] became the first President of a New South Africa.

It was a time when all things seemed possible and, infused with the spirit of the times, i wrote a Prose Praise poem to the great man, in celebration of that moment. It was published five years later in a magazine produced by the institution where i had temporary employment at the time and later after he retired i sent a copy as a gift to President Mandela.

Now twenty years later, after a second President Thabo Mbeki, who will be remembered more as an AIDS denialist than for his achievements; and now a third president [Jacob Zuma] who will be perhaps known more for his ever expanding family, and his ever widening range range of mothers, the twenty year clock has ticked. All the media people are rushing to remember what they did on that momentous day…

I watched the day on television in an era before cellphones, You tube and this blogging frenzy: and this [below] is what i wrote… I wish you well to enjoy it… The President’s spokesperson said Mr Mandela had enjoyed it notwithstanding its non-traditional unusual construction.

….
..February 1990:..

A report on breaking through the ceiling:

A praise prose poem for Nelson Mandela.

The world came

to watch a

spectacle;

a man who had

been locked away

for twenty-seven years

was to be released.

And the spokespeople

for the media

and the great,

came from afar to hear

the wisdom

which it was

believed

this old man

had gained

during his incarceration.

After waiting

uncertainly

for hours

in the hot February

glare;

He finally emerged

blinking

into the sunlight.

Was led to a podium

around which

a Hundred Thousand people

had gathered and

onwhichtheeyesofFiveHundredMillion

faces

werefocussedviatelevisionsetsina

hundred and eighty

countriesbeamedbyinstantsatellite.

With a great sense of Majesty

All awaited

his unique insights, which,

his publicists claimed,

andwhichallwhocamewould

have

themselves

believe he had gained

through years of

incarcerated

introspection

The great buzz

was that this man

had

through his

suffering

acquired unsullied

wisdom and would

unitethecountryandleadhisto

rmentorsandhispeople

toapromisedland:

freed

of all the pain borne

by the suffering

for millennia.

Slowly

he ascended the steps

and trod

with unaccustomed grace

toward

the podium.

A hush

fell

uponhalfaBillionhouseholds.

Fathers

shushed their children

andbeatthosewhospokewhilethegreat

Man

began to speak.

And the sound of wonder

amongst

the gathered dignitaries

and the watching multitudes

turned

to

consternation.

For he spoke yet

anancientanditwasbelievedarecently

discreditedlanguage

and none had thought

to expect

it.

And so they sat

in bewildered

and bemused

consideration

ofwhattheywerehearing

while

a

howlingmobofjubilantsupporters

soon turned their joy

to rapturous

violence

smashingallthewindowsonthesquare.

.NiK(1990)

Publ. 1995.

Bedford Yearbook

Appropriations

Appropriations.
[21 January 2008]

“Welcome to Mbeki’s banana republic.”
Thus reads the headline in the Sowetan this morning.

‘We are rapidly joining the ranks of Nigeria, and Zimbabwe”. It
Continued.

It could as easily have read: “An inheritance ruined!”
They could have said.

The milk is spilled: the omelette awaits ruin;
For want of a light
The darkness will return…
For want of a light.

******************

No one will remember, that,
When it was being done:
The arrogant takeover; the
Cursory word of contempt,

As the newbies reached for the symbols
When the phrase was ‘who do you know?’
and also what do you know?
When the newly appointed toadies [who owed everything to their
Revolutionary masters
Held schtum when the outrageous was apparent.]
And the emperor’s non-existent rags began to wither on
A malformed leg. All now say
‘We didn’t know…’
We experience attention deficit.

We didn’t know it was so important;
That there would not be a place where we could appropriate
the stock
and take it over
For our own delicious ends.

******************

And how dare the people demand!
We gave them everything they have
So they must now pay
With their aspirations and their leavened joy.

Spend wisely said the trustees
Who were impolitely ignored
There were guns and bombs and loot
to be adored.

And all the best horses and all the new men
Could not put light where no facility
Began.

***********************

The citizens who were enraged
Burned the trains
And are now caged
Into their neighbourhoods
Where there are no jobs and
fewer goods
and Work is scarce, and money more so.
The Kenyans use bullets and
We use space
The pain is the same
and there is little grace.
We can’t stop the game
‘Atlas has shrugged’ The world is shaken: are we teleported?

The “mirror cracked
From side to side’ and we saw
Ourselves
Distorted.

All that we did
All that we courted
dispersed so soon: revealing our all
too waning
moon

‘For want of a nail.’
The end. So soon?

NiK [08]

Examination interludes

The creaking door intrudes upon our silence.
Caught by a wilful eddy
It swings gently
From its stable state of partial openness;
And sensing opportunity began a
Wider indeterminate momentum
That would, at
Inevitable termination,
Sharply
Demolish that silence
And wreak havoc
On the consciousness of unsuspecting
Humans.

I was at the opposite corner: cross-legged on a table;
Stretching out insipient arthritic pain into
Reborn-life-conscious
Only
Of the crowded room: the rhythmic breath;
All present hunched
In twisted and
Distorted
Shapes, across
Self-absorbing texts:
Engrossed-in-Visual-Art-Culture-Studies-Two-Paper-1

Before awareness becomes thought becomes action
A lastcreakquickeningwhooshofsprightlybreezeand
The heavy reinforced door crashes
Full circle
Against its own
Unyielding backstop;
Reverberateswithobsceneurgency
Across the silent schoolyard:
Bringing sound to visual literacy.

In front of me a head rears sharply up and
Back
Eyes rolling, flashing in desperate
Pursuit
Seekingthechanceescapingthought:
That fragile line;
Aching
Despairingtohold
The image, that shreddedasit
Scattered.

‘Open or closed?’ I asked the room while
I threaded
Across
The cluttered space
To catch the door before there was more
And the echo died
Andrelieffollowedshock.

Closed: came a voice.
The room sighed.
Closed it became.

NiK[07]