There has to be a better way

After a few months of ignoring it in the hope it would go away, I have started taking an interest in the financial markets again. Every day I overhear people on the radio talking about bailouts, pensions, mortgage defaults, and a crippled economy. It sounds like the end of civilization out there, and you know how much I like TEOTWAWKI.

Even Warren Buffett, formerly the world’s richest man, is reeling as his investments tank. No one knows when or if it will end or when we will hit rock bottom. We keep telling ourselves that stability will be restored if we keep plugging away, but perhaps the post-Bretton Woods model is simply unsustainable. Look at Chris Martenson’s Crash Course for a clear presentation of how money is created via a pyramid of debt and how that can spiral out of control when money is printed without reference to gold.

On the Guardian today was a terrifying list of people’s redundancy stories. All of the commenters seemed to be shell-shocked white-collar workers looking for any available job. The spiral of recession means that if they default then banks will lose more money, lending will be further curtailed, house prices will continue to decline, spending will decrease, more firms will go out of business, more jobs are lost and so on. The only way to stop the spiral is to let people keep their homes while they search for jobs, keep bailing out the banks so that they lend, and encourage people to start consuming again. The trouble with that solution is that we are on the brink of environmental collapse caused by over-consumption of natural resources. It’s a lose-lose situation.

Don’t think that I am advocating a return to medieval style existence — alas, that is impossible with the industrial levels of population — but clearly our so-called ‘progress’ and ‘civilization’ aren’t getting us anywhere. Pollution, antibiotic-resistant viruses, urban ugliness, useless PhDs, talentless celebrities, timewasting computer games — Western civilization has clearly lost its way. There has to be a better way.

03 Mar 2009

Bad Vibes

Reading Luke Haines’s memoir, Bad Vibes, is a curiously addictive experience. I picked it up from the post office yesterday morning, read 40 pages at work during lunch, another 80 pages at home before going out, and the last 120 pages when I got back (albeit wired on Maté). It only took about four hours to read, but feels infused with the condensed effort of the six months or however long it took to write.

That inverse relationship between time to write and time to read is a rare thing to apprehend. Most writers write conversationally, which makes it seem effortless, but with Haines the rat-a-tat-tat of witty insults, snarky asides, and bitter memories becomes a barrage.

The book covers the period from 1987 (when Haines joined The Servants) to 1997 (when he formed Black Box Recorder with John Moore) and is being marketed as a scathing critique of the Britpop years. It isn’t. Not really. In the book Britpop is a background annoyance — it is “Northern cunts” littering the streets of Camden, it is witless bands treating a tour like a 9 to 5 job, it is Damon and Justine stamping over anyone who gets in the way of their success — the real subject is Haines’ mental disintegration.

Some have compared Bad Vibes to a David Peace book, signposted to such a conclusion by Peace’s puff on the front cover, but I wonder if they haven’t just read The Damned United and are confusing Peace’s writing with Brian Clough’s persona. Like Clough, Haines has an overwhelming belief in his own genius, doesn’t care who he winds up, and has a perverse self-destructive streak.

In Bad Vibes, people are treated as symbols, summed up by one characteristic which is imposed on them from above. James Banbury (“The Cellist”) is a disloyal, moneygrubbing milquetoast; Alice Readman (Girlfriend and Bassist) is long-suffering; and Phil Vinall (producer) is scatty and obsessional. They may not convey the full complexity of a human being but they make the book a lot more entertaining. For Haines is a raconteur, telling his stories economically, eliding details for maximum laughs.

02 Mar 2009