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.
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:
The twelve bar globalisation break down Stalinist Blues song.
Tax, history, computers, investors
and the concept of delete consciousness:
the issues of today.
The world of today is the world of
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
From their consciousness, in order to cope
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
It has to be now.
On the Dow. The product must have
And unspeakably sharp and acute
Marketing methods to get good attention
That attracts velvet paws
And a favourable mention.
The idea of taxing anyone
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
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
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
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
Measuring the loot of the world’s
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
Modified market uncertainties
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
Which should always be happy.
Should this Hollywood twitch
Suffer a glitch… should heaven transform into hell
When success equals misery,
Mixed in with
Then confusion will reign
The markets feel pain
And the cash is away before
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
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.