Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Hole in Europe’s Bucket

 From New York Times, 23 October 2011

If it weren’t so tragic, the current European crisis would be funny, in a gallows-humor sort of way. For as one rescue plan after another falls flat, Europe’s Very Serious People — who are, if such a thing is possible, even more pompous and self-regarding than their American counterparts — just keep looking more and more ridiculous.

I’ll get to the tragedy in a minute. First, let’s talk about the pratfalls, which have lately had me humming the old children’s song “There’s a Hole in My Bucket.
For those not familiar with the song, it concerns a lazy farmer who complains about said hole and is told by his wife to fix it. Each action she suggests, however, turns out to require a prior action, and, eventually, she tells him to draw some water from the well. “But there’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.”
What does this have to do with Europe? Well, at this point, Greece, where the crisis began, is no more than a grim sideshow. The clear and present danger comes instead from a sort of bank run on Italy, the euro area’s third-largest economy. Investors, fearing a possible default, are demanding high interest rates on Italian debt. And these high interest rates, by raising the burden of debt service, make default more likely.
It’s a vicious circle, with fears of default threatening to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. To save the euro, this threat must be contained. But how? The answer has to involve creating a fund that can, if necessary, lend Italy (and Spain, which is also under threat) enough money that it doesn’t need to borrow at those high rates. Such a fund probably wouldn’t have to be used, since its mere existence should put an end to the cycle of fear. But the potential for really large-scale lending, certainly more than a trillion euros’ worth, has to be there.
And here’s the problem: All the various proposals for creating such a fund ultimately require backing from major European governments, whose promises to investors must be credible for the plan to work. Yet Italy is one of those major governments; it can’t achieve a rescue by lending money to itself. And France, the euro area’s second-biggest economy, has been looking shaky lately, raising fears that creation of a large rescue fund, by in effect adding to French debt, could simply have the effect of adding France to the list of crisis countries. There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.
You see what I mean about the situation being funny in a gallows-humor fashion? What makes the story really painful is the fact that none of this had to happen.

Think about countries like Britain, Japan and the United States, which have large debts and deficits yet remain able to borrow at low interest rates. What’s their secret? The answer, in large part, is that they retain their own currencies, and investors know that in a pinch they could finance their deficits by printing more of those currencies. If the European Central Bank were to similarly stand behind European debts, the crisis would ease dramatically.
Wouldn’t that cause inflation? Probably not: whatever the likes of Ron Paul may believe, money creation isn’t inflationary in a depressed economy. Furthermore, Europe actually needs modestly higher overall inflation: too low an overall inflation rate would condemn southern Europe to years of grinding deflation, virtually guaranteeing both continued high unemployment and a string of defaults.
But such action, we keep being told, is off the table. The statutes under which the central bank was established supposedly prohibit this kind of thing, although one suspects that clever lawyers could find a way to make it happen. The broader problem, however, is that the whole euro system was designed to fight the last economic war. It’s a Maginot Line built to prevent a replay of the 1970s, which is worse than useless when the real danger is a replay of the 1930s.
And this turn of events is, as I said, tragic.
The story of postwar Europe is deeply inspiring. Out of the ruins of war, Europeans built a system of peace and democracy, constructing along the way societies that, while imperfect — what society isn’t? — are arguably the most decent in human history.
Yet that achievement is under threat because the European elite, in its arrogance, locked the Continent into a monetary system that recreated the rigidities of the gold standard, and — like the gold standard in the 1930s — has turned into a deadly trap.
Now maybe European leaders will come up with a truly credible rescue plan. I hope so, but I don’t expect it.
The bitter truth is that it’s looking more and more as if the euro system is doomed. And the even more bitter truth is that given the way that system has been performing, Europe might be better off if it collapses sooner rather than later.

Seven Billion

Around 31 October 2011, the United Nations estimates, the world’s population will reach seven billion.

The development, past & future:


3 Billion: 20 October 1959
4 Billion: 27 June 1974
5 Billion: 21 January 1987
6 Billion: 5 December 1998
7 Billion: 31 October 2011
8 Billion: 15 June 2025
9 Billion: 18 February 2043
10 Billion: 18 June 2083


The first billion people accumulated over a leisurely interval, from the origins of humans hundreds of thousands of years ago to the early 1800s. Adding the second took another 120 or so years. Then, in the last 50 years, humanity more than doubled, surging from three billion in 1959 to four billion in 1974, five billion in 1987 and six billion in 1998.

This rate of population increase has no historical precedent.
Can the earth support seven billion now, and the three billion people who are expected to be added by the end of this century? Are the enormous increases in households, cities, material consumption and waste compatible with dignity, health, environmental quality and freedom from poverty?
For some in the West, the greatest challenge — because it is the least visible — is to shake off, at last, the view that large and growing numbers of people represent power and prosperity.

This view was fostered over millenniums, by the pronatalism of the Hebrew Bible, the Roman Empire, the Roman Catholic Church and Arab thinkers like Ibn Khaldun. Mercantilists of the 16th through the 18th centuries saw a growing population as increasing national wealth: more workers, more consumers, more soldiers. Enlarging the workforce depressed wages, increasing the economic surplus available to the king. “The number of the people makes the wealth of states,” said Frederick the Great.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, pronatalism acquired a specious scientific aura from social Darwinism and eugenics. Even today, some economists argue, incorrectly, that population growth is required for economic growth and that Africa is underpopulated.
This view made some sense for societies subject to catastrophic mortality from famines, plagues and wars. But it has outlived its usefulness now that human consumption, and pollution, loom large across the earth.
Today, while many people reject the equation of human numbers with power, it remains unpalatable, if not suicidal, for political leaders to admit that the United States and Europe do not need growing populations to prosper and be influential and that rich countries should reduce their rates of unintended pregnancy and help poor countries do likewise. With the globalization of work, the incentive for owners of capital today to ignore or not address rapid growth in the numbers of poor people remains as it was for the kings of yore: lower wages for workers at any level of skill offer a bigger economic surplus to be captured.
But just as pronatalism is unjustified, so are the dire — and discredited — prophecies of Thomas Malthus and his followers, who believed that soaring populations must lead to mass starvation.

Orwell’s 5 Rules for Effective Writing

George Orwell’s 5 Rules for Effective Writing:

1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
This sounds easy, but in practice is incredibly difficult. Phrases such as toe the line, ride roughshod over, stand shoulder to shoulder with, play into the hands of, an axe to grind, Achilles’ heel, swan song, and hotbed come to mind quickly and feel comforting and melodic.
For this exact reason they must be avoided. Common phrases have become so comfortable that they create no emotional response. Take the time to invent fresh, powerful images.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
Long words don’t make you sound intelligent unless used skillfully. In the wrong situation they’ll have the opposite effect, making you sound pretentious and arrogant. They’re also less likely to be understood and more awkward to read.
When Hemingway was criticized by Faulkner for his limited word choice he replied:
Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He thinks I don’t know the ten-dollar words. I know them all right. But there are older and simpler and better words, and those are the ones I use.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost possible degree (Ezra Pound). Accordingly, any words that don’t contribute meaning to a passage dilute its power. Less is always better. Always.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
This one is frequently broken, probably because many people don’t know the difference between active and passive verbs. I didn’t myself until a few months ago. Here is an example that makes it easy to understand:
The man was bitten by the dog. (passive)The dog bit the man. (active).The active is better because it’s shorter and more forceful.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
This is tricky because much of the writing published on the internet is highly technical. If possible, remain accessible to the average reader. If your audience is highly specialized this is a judgment call. You don’t want to drag on with unnecessary explanation, but try to help people understand what you’re writing about. You want your ideas to spread right?
6. Break any of these rules sooner than saying anything outright barbarous.
This bonus rule is a catch all. Above all, be sure to use common sense.These rules are easy to memorize but difficult to apply. Although I’ve edited this piece a dozen times I’m sure it contains imperfections. But trust me, it’s much better now than it was initially. The key is effort. Good writing matters, probably more than you think.


I hope you find these rules helpful, and through their application we’re able to understand each other a little bit better. If you enjoyed this post, be sure to read Orwell’s original essay. It contains many helpful examples and is, of course, a pleasure to read.

Friday, October 14, 2011

A Typology of Folktales

The Types of International Folktales, the "ATU Catalogue" edited by Hans-Jörg Uther (2004).

ANIMAL TALES
  •   Wild Animals 1-99
  •   The Clever Fox (Other Animal) 1-69
  •   Other Wild Animals 70-99
  •   Wild Animals and Domestic Animals 100-149
  •   Wild Animals and Humans 150-199
  •   Domestic Animals 200-219
  •   Other Animals and Objects 220-299
TALES OF MAGIC
  •   Supernatural Adversaries 300-399
  •   Supernatural or Enchanted Wife (Husband) or Other Relative 400-459
  •   Wife 400-424
  •   Husband 425-449
  •   Brother or Sister 450-459
  •   Supernatural Tasks 460-499
  •   Supernatural Helpers 500-559
  •   Magic Objects 560-649
  •   Supernatural Power or Knowledge 650-699
  •   Other Tales of the Supernatural 700-749
RELIGIOUS TALES
  •   God Rewards and Punishes 750-779
  •   The Truth Comes to Light 780-791)
  •   Heaven 800-809
  •   The Devil 810-826
  •   Other Religious Tales 827-849
REALISTIC TALES (NOVELLE)
  •   The Man Marries the Princess 850-869
  •   The Woman Marries the Prince 870-879
  •   Proofs of FidelitY and Innocence 880-899
  •   The Obstinate Wife Learns to Obey 900-909
  •   Good Precepts 910-919
  •   Clever Acts and Words 920-929
  •   Tales of Fate 930-949 .7;68
  •   Robbers and Murderers 950-969
  •   Other Realistic Tales 970-999 
 TALES OF THE STUPID OGRE (GIANT, DEVIL)
  • Labor Contract 1000-1029
  •   Partnership between Man and Ogre 1030-1059
  •   Contest between Man and Ogre 1060-1114
  •   Man Kills (Injures) Ogre 1115-1144
  •   Ogre Frightened by Man 1145-1154
  •   Man Outwits the Devil 1155-1169
  •   Souls Saved from the Devil 1170-1199
    ANECDOTES AND JOKES
    •   Stories about a Fool 1200-1349
    •   Stories about Married Couples 1350-1439
    •   The Foolish Wife and Her Husband 1380-1404
    •   The Foolish Husband and His Wife 1405-1429
    •   The Foolish Couple 1430-1439
    •   Stories about a Woman 1440-1524
    •   Looking for a Wife 1450-1474
    •   Jokes about Old Maids 1475-1499
    •   Other Stories about Women 1500-1524
    •   Stories about a Man 1525-1724
    •   The Clever Man 1525-1639
    •   Lucky Accidents 1640-1674
    •   The Stupid Man 1675-1724
    •   Jokes about Clergymen and Religious Figures 1725-1849
    •   The Clergyman is Tricked 1725-1774
    •   Clergyman and Sexton 1775-1799
    •   Other Jokes about Religious Figures 1800-1849
    •   Anecdotes about Other Groups of People 1850-1874
    •   Tall Tales 1875-1999
    FORMULA TALES
    •   Cumulative Tales 2000-2100
    •   Chains Based on Numbers, Objects, Animals, or Names 2000-2020
    •   Chains Involving Death 2021-2024
    •   Chains Involving Eating 2025-2028
    •   Chains Involving Other Events 2029-2075
    •   Catch Tales 2200-2299
    •   Other Formula Tales 2300-2399


    Book recommendations

    When Christopher Hitchens got the Dawkins Award in Houston, was asked a variety of questions from the audience.
    None appeared to elicit more interest than the one asked by eight-year-old Mason Crumpacker, who wanted to know what books she should read.

    Hitchens’ quick list of recommended books and authors:

    DawkinsMagic of Reality, Greek Myths, particularly those compiled by Robert Graves, anything satirical, all of  Shakespeare, Geoffrey Chaucer, Ayaan Hirsi Ali (author of Infidel and Nomad: From Islam to America: A Personal Journey Through the Clash of Civilizations), PG Wodehouse (“for fun”), David Hume, and Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.

    Wednesday, October 12, 2011

    How to tie a tie

    This is short, easy and very useful. If you wear ties, of course.


    Tuesday, August 16, 2011

    Byzantine Emperors

    This is an excellent site with concise information about all Byzantine Emperors, from 330 A.D. to 1453.

    It is still under construction but already very useful.

    http://www.byzantium.xronikon.com


    Saturday, August 06, 2011

    Why is it called “rock n’ roll?”

     Is “Rocket ‘88” by Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats  the very first rock and roll record? The question has inspired debate among musicologists for years.  Another equally contentious question: Where does the term “rock and roll” come from?

    “Rock” is derived from the Old English roccain, related to the Old Nordic rykkja meaning, “to pull, tear, move.” The earliest recorded use of the term in literature can be found in the lullaby “Rock-a-bye Baby “ from 1805.

    “Roll” is derived from the Latin rotula meaning, “small wheel.” The phrase “rocking and rolling,” a metaphor used by seamen to describe the motion of a ship, dates from the 17th century. Similar metaphors slipped into popular discourse, but one in particular became the inspiration for the genre’s moniker.

    By the 1920s, “rocking and rolling” became a popular double entendre referring to either dancing or sex. Trixie Smith’s 1922 blues ballad, “My Man Rocks Me (With One Steady Roll) may be the first use of the phrase in song.

    Alan Freed, a disc jockey in Cleveland, Ohio used the phrase, “The Rock and Roll Session” to describe the amalgamation of rhythm and blues and country music he played during his show. As his radio show gained popularity, so too did the phrase.

    And why is the “and” sometimes written as ‘n? That’s called an apocopation – the omission of the final sound of a word.

    Sunday, March 27, 2011

    The Greek National Anthem

    The Hymn to Liberty is a poem written by Dionýsios Solomós in 1823 that consists of 158 stanzas, set to music by Nikolaos Mantzaros. In 1865, the first two stanzas officially became the Greek national anthem and later also that of the Republic of Cyprus.

    Rudyard Kipling created this seven-stanza English translation, which was first published in the Daily Telegraph on October 17, 1918. 

    We knew thee of old,
         Oh, divinely restored,
    By the light of thine eyes
         And the light of thy Sword.

    From the graves of our slain
         Shall thy valour prevail
    As we greet thee again —
         Hail, Liberty! Hail!

    Long time didst thou dwell
         Mid the peoples that mourn,
    Awaiting some voice
         That should bid thee return.

    Ah, slow broke that day
         And no man dared call,
    For the shadow of tyranny
         Lay over all:

    And we saw thee sad-eyed,
         The tears on thy cheeks
    While thy raiment was dyed
         In the blood of the Greeks.

    Yet, behold now thy sons
         With impetuous breath
    Go forth to the fight
         Seeking Freedom or Death.

    From the graves of our slain
         Shall thy valour prevail
    As we greet thee again —
         Hail, Liberty! Hail!

    The Greek Fire

     A description of the Greek Fire according to Edward Gibbon in his The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, chapter LII.

    In the two sieges [by the Saracens], the deliverance of Constantinople may be chiefly ascribed to the novelty, the terrors, and the real efficacy of the Greek fire. The important secret of compounding and directing this artificial flame was imparted by Callinicus, a native of Heliopolis in Syria, who deserted from the service of the caliph to that of the emperor.  The skill of a chemist and engineer was equivalent to the succor of fleets and armies; and this discovery or improvement of the military art was fortunately reserved for the distressful period, when the degenerate Romans of the East were incapable of contending with the warlike enthusiasm and youthful vigor of the Saracens.
    The historian who presumes to analyze this extraordinary composition should suspect his own ignorance and that of his Byzantine guides, so prone to the marvellous, so careless, and, in this instance, so jealous of the truth. From their obscure, and perhaps fallacious, hints it should seem that the principal ingredient of the Greek fire was the naphtha,  or liquid bitumen, a light, tenacious, and inflammable oil,  which springs from the earth, and catches fire as soon as it comes in contact with the air. The naphtha was mingled, I know not by what methods or in what proportions, with sulphur and with the pitch that is extracted from evergreen firs.  From this mixture, which produced a thick smoke and a loud explosion, proceeded a fierce and obstinate flame, which not only rose in perpendicular ascent, but likewise burnt with equal vehemence in descent or lateral progress; instead of being extinguished, it was nourished and quickened by the element of water; and sand, urine, or vinegar, were the only remedies that could damp the fury of this powerful agent, which was justly denominated by the Greeks the liquid, or the maritime, fire.
    For the annoyance of the enemy, it was employed with equal effect, by sea and land, in battles or in sieges. It was either poured from the rampart in large boilers, or launched in red-hot balls of stone and iron, or darted in arrows and javelins, twisted round with flax and tow, which had deeply imbibed the inflammable oil; sometimes it was deposited in fire-ships, the victims and instruments of a more ample revenge, and was most commonly blown through long tubes of copper which were planted on the prow of a galley, and fancifully shaped into the mouths of savage monsters, that seemed to vomit a stream of liquid and consuming fire. This important art was preserved at Constantinople, as the palladium of the state: the galleys and artillery might occasionally be lent to the allies of Rome; but the composition of the Greek fire was concealed with the most jealous scruple, and the terror of the enemies was increased and prolonged by their ignorance and surprise. In the treaties of the administration of the empire, the royal author suggests the answers and excuses that might best elude the indiscreet curiosity and importunate demands of the Barbarians. They should be told that the mystery of the Greek fire had been revealed by an angel to the first and greatest of the Constantines, with a sacred injunction, that this gift of Heaven, this peculiar blessing of the Romans, should never be communicated to any foreign nation; that the prince and the subject were alike bound to religious silence under the temporal and spiritual penalties of treason and sacrilege; and that the impious attempt would provoke the sudden and supernatural vengeance of the God of the Christians. By these precautions, the secret was confined, above four hundred years, to the Romans of the East; and at the end of the eleventh century, the Pisans, to whom every sea and every art were familiar, suffered the effects, without understanding the composition, of the Greek fire. It was at length either discovered or stolen by the Mahometans; and, in the holy wars of Syria and Egypt, they retorted an invention, contrived against themselves, on the heads of the Christians. A knight, who despised the swords and lances of the Saracens, relates, with heartfelt sincerity, his own fears, and those of his companions, at the sight and sound of the mischievous engine that discharged a torrent of the Greek fire, the feu Gregeois, as it is styled by the more early of the French writers. It came flying through the air, says Joinville, 22 like a winged long-tailed dragon, about the thickness of a hogshead, with the report of thunder and the velocity of lightning; and the darkness of the night was dispelled by this deadly illumination. The use of the Greek, or, as it might now be called, of the Saracen fire, was continued to the middle of the fourteenth century, 23 when the scientific or casual compound of nitre, sulphur, and charcoal, effected a new revolution in the art of war and the history of mankind