We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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Is a credit card. But James, I hear you cry, the availability of capital credit supercharged Western civilisation’s development through the Renaissance and beyond, and a credit card is an instrument of a developed debt market – arguably the most socially beneficial institution we possess! Have you gone quite mad?
No, dear reader, just clumsy; I meant to write that the most ill-considered banking product ever devised is this credit card. It is a National Australia Bank (NAB) Visa Mini – confoundingly counter-intuitively, this card’s most notable feature is that it’s about half the size of a conventional credit card. Apparently this distinction alone will irresistibly and relentlessly reel in the target demographic – fashion conscious twenty-somethings (I think that might include me!) – but NAB has other slick devices in store to simultaneously deliver a KO in the coolness heavyweight championship of the banking world whilst obfuscating the somewhat steep interest rate levied on any transactions billed.
So let us dive in to this treasure-trove of modé. Before our young charges sally forth and actually use their Visa Mini cards to – you know – buy stuff, they need to know that The Bank wants them to be creative and flamboyant in the way they carry their card on their person, so it has thoughtfully provided some accessories to give each trendy young Visa Mini cardholder a dash of inspiration. Why not hang your Visa Mini on your mobile phone using the purpose-built attachment, o budding sophisticate? Does it look cool, and it is also great for the person who finds your misplaced Nokia; if they exhaust your mobile credit telephoning Siberian astrologers, they’ll be thanking their lucky stars because instant replenishment is quite literally on hand! Now that is convenience. Of course, NAB’s not saying we should trade the security for the superfabulous – ho ho, quite the opposite! Just read the small print on the “accessories” page (linked above):
Remember, you have to look after your Visa Mini Card and companion card as you would cash. So the best place to wear them is up close and personal.
Yes, yes, excellent advice. The long strap should come in handy for that. See? And where would we be without a safety clip? Silly question. For the truly elite – the style aristocracy – why not subtly incorporate the Visa Mini into a piece of bespoke jewellery, like so? Yes, it probably would require less effort to don a prominent sign displaying “ROB ME” painted in large flourescent letters and then wander down the darkest, dodgiest backstreet alley in an effort to discover a smackhead suffering profound withdrawal symptoms so you can shove your Visa Mini between his chattering teeth. But that’s simply not how they do it in Europe, philistine. So, point made and henceforth disregarding your obvious shortcomings, I’m sure by now your head is no doubt spinning with credit card couture-related possibilities. Yet do try to keep up, because what if I threw a choice of “five must-have metallic colours” into the mix? Yes, you heard the man – he said “must-have”. So that’ll be five Visa Minis for you, sir? Madam? Thought so – the experienced eye can always pick the slave to fashion! → Continue reading: The most ill-considered banking product ever devised
It seems the NO2ID campaign is starting to build up some momentum. We are not just nerds and rabble-rousers any more. We are nerds, rabble-rousers and comedians.
Yes, it is time for a comedy benefit. When 10 of the sharpest acts from the London stand-up circuit turn out on a Sunday night to support a two-year-old pressure-group, you feel we might just be getting somewhere…
By numbering everybody and everything, the world is going to be a better place? Unless you’re a bureaucrat, that’s a laughable idea. So why not laugh at it? That’s what we intend to do at the Hackney Empire on the evening of October 1st.
Those of you in other parts of the world will just have to content yourselves with sending money to help save what remains of British liberty… but if you are handy for London, please come along. You can even book online (£12.50 a seat) by clicking the jolly banner:
A few days ago, I was sifting through the intranet noticeboard of the large Australian bank I work for, and I stumbled on an organisation-wide message from our CEO. Anyone who has worked for a large multinational knows the breed – conversational in style, it is usually a somewhat ingenuous effort to create a collegial nexus between upper management and the ungrateful hoardes below. Amongst other rather tedious developments mentioned, the boss noted a recently deceased former customer of the bank who had, “in a rare display of loyalty and reciprocity”, left a substantial portion of his estate to the bank in return for a lifetime of what must have been absolutely brilliant service.
I was, however, disappointed to read that the bank would be donating the bequest to charities in the deceased’s region of abode. This will not do at all – the banks are going all wobbly-kneed and PC on us! What will the shareholders think? I would be tickled pink if our namby-pamby CEO cocked a snook at the “good corporate citizen” brigade and gratefully donated the entirety of the bequest straight to the bank’s bottom line. Better still if he sallied forth proudly stating “that money will be used to refurbish the executive bathroom for the third time this (financial) year.” Steve Edwards suggested he should blow the lot on a nice new tie. Anyone else have any ideas as to how the bequest might be spent? I am looking for the wildest corporate caricatures – the sort that would make Gordon Gekko blush. The funniest wins a degree of transient notoriety.
My team, The Royal Philharmonic, are facing relegation after our key bassoonist was hit by a hamstring injury, and we had to play Terry Butcher on the kazoo.
– Harry Hutton responds to The Times publishing a “league table for British orchestras”.
How many Islamists does it take to change a lightbulb?
The spoof post below about how the wretched Tory leader ‘Dave’ Cameron might react to the case for abolishing inheritance tax – a thoroughly good idea – prompted some commentators to wonder about the UK media. It reminded me of an old quote attributed to the late British broadcaster, Brian Redhead, who is supposed to have said (I paraphrase):
“The Times is read by people who run the country. The Daily Telegraph is read by people who fear we are being run by the French; the Guardian is read by people who think they ought to run the country, while the Daily Mirror is read by people who delusionally think they run the country. The Daily Mail is read by the wives of the people who run the country. The Sun is read by people who do not care who runs the country so long as she has very large tits.”
The Conservative Party has launched a fierce attack on cabinet minister Stephen Byers following the latter’s call for the abolition of Inheritance Tax.
According to the Party’s Shadow Treasury Spokesman:
“This is neo-liberalism gone mad, a selfish Thatcherite appeal to naked greed and self-interest”.
He added:
“This ludicrous idea of handing out tax cuts to the rich is outmoded and has no place in 21st Century Britain. We in the Conservative Party are committed to increasing the rates of Inheritance Tax in order to build a fairer society based on inclusion and social justice”.
Party Leader, David Cameron has confirmed that his party will “fight tooth and nail” to save Inheritance Tax and “conserve the post-war walfare state settlement”.
Roy Bacon seems to have a talent for finding the silver linings in dark clouds.
The panic ban on books and electronic gadgetry aboard transatlantic airliners throws into relief our terror at being deprived of the means to insulate ourselves from other people.
The shock of losing our personal entertainment bubbles should give us pause for thought, and make us wonder if there is a better way of enduring the enforced collectivism of a long-haul flight.
Five hundred people is more individuals than most of us can hope to know intimately in a lifetime. It is the population of a small village. If a packed Jumbo is a community, then aisles are village streets. All right, they are a bit narrow for a full-fledged passeggiata, but there is no reason we should not loiter, chew the fat, shoot the breeze – indulge in those unhurried activities that are so out of kilter with the rush of modern life. With a little lateral thinking the jet airliner, the destroyer of worlds, could be the means of regenerating some homely values.
If you do not like the idea of talking to your neighbour, and in the absence of printed matter, why not get a tattoo to entertain him or her? Depending on your physique you might be limited to a short story or a few haikus, but less – in terms of skin and stanzas – has always been more. Airport novels are not thousand-pagers out of literary necessity.
Or have a random word inscribed on your skin: from an authorised British Airways or United Airlines list, of course. Stewards could ask us our syntactical preference as we get on board, and arrange seating in a narrative way. Even with a 500-word vocabulary there would be the chance of dramatic developments as a YES fell into company with a PLEASE, or failed to see eye to eye with the MAYBE two rows back.
We should start thinking about this stuff. The War on Terror is here to stay, and it is only a matter of time before they take things to their logical conclusion and ban us from carrying anything at all onto aircraft beyond ourselves. And would that really be so bad?
It is often observed that a series of power cuts in a developed nation precedes a spike in the birth rate nine months later. A planeload of naked adults flying through the night: surely they could all find something to do!
I am proud to announce the launch of the brand “spanking” new adults-only Samizdata site. You can expect the following from the Samizdatistas at our new, saucy digs:
The “Rugmuncher” Samizdata people are a fomping bunch of sinister and heavily creamed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the wad pulling felching enters of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many screws is a sense of humour and the titty fucking intermittent use of British spelling.
And you thought us such a pedestrian bunch! Viewing by subscription only. Paypal is on the left.
(Pornolize link via India Uncut)
Tim Blair updates the Australian version of the English language.
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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