Give me your money, The sum of me.

A surprise last week to discover that we have been lied to all along about the emission safety of diesel in Volkswagen. The CEO resigns, there is talk of collusion with government and a cabal of screeching and hair pulling ensues- are all diesel cars what they seem? Should all cars now be retested in light of this deception? The thought of juicy compensation has consumers dribbling with delight.

Before I tackle Volkswagen, permit me to digress wildly to another topic. I have been reading Andre Gide's diary for several months. Such a vast book (and in Gide's own words, the writing he was proudest of) that I savour minute portions every day and cannot bear to race through it. Gide wrote in his diary that he had La Porte Etroite in his head for fifteen years before he actually began writing it. Similarly, one of my favourite books, La Belle du Seigneur, took the author, Albert Cohen, thirty years to write. You are now wondering what writing has in common with producing an automobile. Making cars is about making money. Writing books is about creative expression and not necessarily for commercial gain. And for both Gide and Cohen, writing was a profound labour of love.

One could argue that everything that is wrong in our world has less to do with love and more about money. We are world class racketeers, exploiters, pimps and prostitutes in equal measure when it comes to money. Nothing and no one, perhaps except the last remaining tribes in the depths of the undiscovered wilderness, is immune to the effects of or the need for money.

Call it my age but I hardly hyper ventilate anymore when news such as the Diesel scam gets exposed. Drivers will rightly feel hard done by but the  perverse expectation that we as consumers have between what we want, how much we are prepared to pay for it and what our purchases say about us, means that yes, we are happy to overlook being scammed about diesel emissions. I drive a diesel car and am amazed at how economical it is to run, the savings are substantial and literally music to my ears. Do I lie awake at night worrying about polluting the planet? No. That's the truth- the unadulterated, plain, perhaps shameful truth. We all have parameters of what defines us- call it values, standards, even aspirations. For example|: I object to animals being exploited and intensive, industrialised animal husbandry. I object to pesticides, insecticides and processed food. I object to vivisection and protest by taking no medication whatsoever even if I need it. I dislike fussy eaters with a passion and usually want to throttle them. I believe in God and my Catholic faith makes me a better person. I find people who buy dozens of cookbooks but eat microwaved ready meals daily to be the most confusing, if not deranged species. I do not follow trends or fashion. My favourite meal is roast pork. I could go on and on but I hope you get the point: we're all different and to encapsulate what goes on in the human mind is well, IMPOSSIBLE. What means something to one person is a laughable joke to someone else. Therefore since I was sold a diesel on the basis of fuel consumption don't expect me to self-flagellate because the manufacturer told a massive porker. They were driven by the bottom line and greed. There have been so many of these scandals in my lifetime that it would be a perfect surprise to discover that ethics and profit can co-exist in the world of big business.

The real issue with all these rip -offs and lies is the fact that the entire world is rigged for us to buy into widespread deceit and to say thank you at the same time. Every time you buy a pharmaceutical drug or even that ready-made lasagna, not all is ever what it seems. Do you honestly believe that the maker of that luxury lasagna didn't cut corners in some way in order to increase their profit margin? Do you really believe that the proclivity of doctors to prescribe antidepressants has to do with anything but profit? I spent years of my life standing in trains and paying a fortune for the privilege of doing so. How is it possible that in a country where millions of people use trains daily that the service can be so expensive? Clue: the fares began to rise when the network fell into private hands. The curse of the dividends is to ensure that shareholders reap the benefit of  the trust they place in those who must make them richer.


The sum of me
Readers may remember that I wrote about longing to live in a small space and not have so many possessions. Earlier this year I fulfilled that simple ambition- I ruthlessly got rid of everything that I hadn't used in twelve months and decided to put the remainder of my possessions in my car.  I then drove off on an adventure. Whatever couldn't fit  in the car was offloaded. And so the pottery collection, the cd collection, the electric stuff, the clothes, the china, crystal, hand made furniture, Persian carpets, potted plants, all went. Adios! I kept many books but not all, some basic clothes like jeans and jumpers, some of my paintings, a few photos and of course, my dog. I feel lighter and more disconnected from my past. In a sense I wish  I could live out of one suitcase only. It's called paring things down and deciding what we actually need. I used to love the way people stood in amazement looking at my things. Now I have nothing, I'm wondering what they will find amazing.

Photo copyright SvD.

My latest article on The Huffington Post

The Tide of Humanity Drifts Away | HuffPost UK (huffingtonpost.co.uk)

Photo copyright SvD.

The Tide of Humanity Drifts Away

 

The saddest image last week of a young child drowned along with his mother and brother in a failed attempt to reach Europe. Meanwhile here in the UK much has been made by the homophobic brigade about how our country is full, there is no more room and crucially, how our way of life must be preserved.  There is of course another viewpoint- that immigrants make a valuable contribution to society through hard graft and resourcefulness. Whole swathes of hitherto barren land became fertile through the care and attention of Jewish settlers in that disputed state known as Israel. Since the days of the Saxons and Angles, the British gene pool has metamorphosed dozens of times through force or choice by both invaders and immigrants. Furthermore we now know enough about genetics to understand that we are all essentially related to a small core of common ancestors who came from Africa.  However we manage to differentiate ourselves by our beliefs and customs we are all effectively the same.

When the euro was foisted upon Western Europe I remember the conversations and vociferous arguments around some well-to-do dinner tables. As the gin and tonic and Dubonnet and gin in crystal glasses clinked late into the night, the argument that kept being repeated was the need to protect the British way of life. The memory I have of those evenings is the various titbits being served- olives, peanuts, crudités, wine by the gallon and I recall remarking that none of it was British. What therefore was the supposed way of life we were seeking to preserve? The silence was deafening. Granted there has been a huge awakening in recent years that has seen the demand for home grown and organic produce soar but to this day, Britain cannot feed itself. Take a drive down any British motorway and count the number of foreign registered trucks – they are all delivering food to the supermarkets. Stand outside a florist's long enough and a Dutch truck will arrive to make a delivery of blooms grown in the Low Countries. And what about our insatiable appetite for cheaper goods of an acceptable standard? The label almost always reads Made in China. When we buy those we further condemn our own manufacturers to become more 'competitive' or die.

Britain used to have over one hundred manufacturers of pianos. Today there is just one. The same is true for clocks, watches, cars, jut about every single thing you can think of is made using some if not all components manufactured abroad. What therefore is the way of life we are seeking to preserve? Cream teas? Strawberries and cream? Cricket? Cornish pasties? I recently was away in France and how I missed England! I missed the feel of the place, the Edwardian and Victorian architecture, the damp, the morning dew, in fact, all those things that will outlive us all. I would argue that what defines us as being British is the past and the present. The crazy chaotic maddening things that are wrong with this country- too many cars, too many potholes, late trains, surly staff just about everywhere, well, I missed them too. The best thing about the UK is the bête noire in other parts of the world but which has now come to define us:  at any time of the day or night we can buy anything we want and from every part of the world. What began as a gentle introduction to curry (Coronation Chicken, anyone?) turned into a full-scale love affair where blond, blue eyed kiddies know their Tikka from their Vindaloo. How long did it take for curry to become part of the British way of life? Sixty years or so. How many generations is that? I worked for many years with Jews and came to love Matzo Meal, which I still seek out wherever I go. I also grew to greatly admire the Jewish work ethic which is indefatigable. The Jews came to Britain as refugees once and the Indian and Pakistan contingent came here for a better life too. Let's not forget that immigration from the Caribbean and the Indian sub-continent was encouraged in the 50s and 60s. And today the road sweeper is invariably foreign-born as that job isn't exactly hotly coveted by British workers!

Is our country too full? I would contest that rhetoric. Our climate makes it difficult to grow crops but there are whole swathes of land that lie empty and which appear abandoned altogether. I'm not advocating mass construction on green field sites but there is a need for a coherent and unbiased study to be undertaken to establish how full we supposedly are. Is that argument due to a shortage of essential workers and services such as doctors, nurses, dentists, schools, housing? What about the argument that all immigrants end up sponging off the state- as in expecting benefits and an easy life? That is perhaps woefully untrue (unless you keep producing children)- the state will help you but not forever so where does that fallacy come from? There are some hard-core spongers who from one generation to the next prefer welfare to working but they are most definitely a very small percentage- the true culprits in that case are the ones handing out the benefits!

There is a lesson in the displaced, the eternal diaspora of human existence not just literally but metaphorically. Very little has been made of how this diaspora began. In my view, the press has not explored enough about the blame that lies in the West for meddling in cultures that do not share the same values and traditions as so-called democratic countries. Tacitus summed it up best: Aurum et opes, praecipuae bellorum causae. Gold and power, the chief causes of wars.  The victims of those wars need a place to call their own, a home. Just like you and me. 

 Photo copyright SvD. Burdock and nettle grow always side by side- the nettle stings and the burdock soothes the raging pain.