Purging
There is a giant, growing file on my desktop; I vomit anxiety into it. Financial graphs and calculations, on both personal and macro matters. Incoherent dissertations, aborted blog posts and morose entries for a non-existent diary. Stuff like this week-old gem:
Greece has had an interesting week after defaulting on the International Monetary Fund. If you need a quick summary on how the last several years ended up here, here's a quick recap of the state of play, in three charts and thirty-three hundred words. Hey, Greeks are supposed to be rather fond of both endless epics and tragedies.
Today is Deeply Sketchy Plebiscite Day, and, at 7 in the morning, I was so very ready to yell FRIST! to the confusion of all present. As on the Internet, somehow two people had beat me to it. Yes, Sherlock, our ballot boxes are indeed made of acrylic glass. So I prayed in the form of marking a tiny cross by the Erised question, and cast it to preserve the nationwide illusion of control.
Here are the de-obfuscated choices:
I told you so. Right down to the date. I wish I was wrong.
"You" in this case refers to those who suffer me in meatspace. I had been going on about the breakdown in Greece's arrangements with its lenders' Troika, and the subsequent imposition of a bank holiday and capital controls. I listened to the official announcement while sitting in my balcony, enjoying a lovely breeze, a glorious sunset, and some delicious pastry after a quick game of Carcassone. Lunch was a rather rich mousaka. I went full stereotype.
Greece has had an interesting week after defaulting on the International Monetary Fund. If you need a quick summary on how the last several years ended up here, here's a quick recap of the state of play, in three charts and thirty-three hundred words. Hey, Greeks are supposed to be rather fond of both endless epics and tragedies.
Today is Deeply Sketchy Plebiscite Day, and, at 7 in the morning, I was so very ready to yell FRIST! to the confusion of all present. As on the Internet, somehow two people had beat me to it. Yes, Sherlock, our ballot boxes are indeed made of acrylic glass. So I prayed in the form of marking a tiny cross by the Erised question, and cast it to preserve the nationwide illusion of control.
Here are the de-obfuscated choices:
- Honour, Dignity and Rationing FTW! In practical terms, the re-introduction of a national currency, and a giant nominal devaluation to follow the giant current internal devaluation. But after that unpleasantry, our heroic, muscular government will lead us to Socialist Utopia. Venezuela is often cited as an example, unironically. Supported by the ruling radical left party, and a couple of shades of regressive right, including national socialist black.
- Telling Mutti we're very sorry to have upset her, that we'll really like our new bank haircut, we'll do all our immigrant beating chores, and that we understand our naughtiness is the reason she has to take all state assets and sovereignty from us. In practical terms, inescapable and permanent depression is the best of possible outcomes of this path. Supported by the parties that got us into the mess in the first place, and their cronies, clients and bosses.
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