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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The Illuminatus post below puts me in mind of a little anecdote that was doing the rounds in the legal profession a few years ago. It concerned the case of a homeless vagrant who had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly in a public place. A trivial matter and quite unremarkable but for the sentence handed down by the Magistrate:
“I am going to discharge you on the condition that, for the next six months, you do not touch a drop of alcohol. And when I say ‘not a drop’, I mean not a drop; not even a glass of sherry after dinner.”
It may not be true but I like to think it is.
This is an article from the Guardian:
“The Angel of Death is stalking the streets and leafy suburbs of Maryland in the form of an unknown and, thus far, unseen sniper who has seemingly murdered up to six people in cold blood and for no apparent motive.
The fear of sudden death hangs like a shroud over the entire State under which its hapless and anxious citizens scurry from cover to cover lest they be the sniper’s next victim. This is the real America; rheumy-eyed, mistrustful and dangerous. A place where any passing stranger could be a stone-cold killer and where a violent and bloody death waits just around the next turning for it’s vulnerable and haunted citizens.
While the police search frantically to find the elusive marksman before he claims his next victim, maybe they should pause to consider whether they will ever really bring the guilty party to justice. For, regardless of who’s finger is actually pulling the trigger, the real culprit here is America itself.
Despite the increasingly horrific death toll, this is a nation which still clings rabidly to the absurd and outdated notion of allowing private citizens to own firearms. The simple fact that guns kill people is so banal in its obvious truth that it should not need restating anywhere; except that is, among the Republicans and their gun-lobby puppet-masters who will baulk at the merest suggestion of sensible regulation lest it blow a big hole in their profits. In the meantime, we Europeans can only scratch our bemused and wiser heads and wonder how many more painful lessons will have to be endured before America’s red-necked boys get their toys taken away from them.
But the gun-toting culture is only partially to blame because, in order to be truly lethal, it has to be combined with a reckless, inhuman cowboy capitalism with its injunction to the devil to take the hindmost and let the weak and frail die where they fall. In the land where the Dollar is King, the citizens are merely dispensable serfs providing nothing more than an opportunity cost to be measured on the bottom line against a cardboard cut-out target and a magazine full of dum-dum rounds. In America, breakfast is cheap but so is life.
For us on the safe side of the Atlantic, we can but give thanks for a more progressive political leadership that recognises these squalid dangers and defends us against their encroachment. Not so the average American who is left to twist in the pitiless wind while their elected officials busy themselves with the more lucrative task of propping up their nations corporate interests. When democracy can be trumped by chicanery, as in the Florida elections re-count, good faith lies bleeding. When you witness your own government flaunt the will of the international community, as expressed by Kyoto and the International Criminal Court, is it any wonder your dashed hopes and routed expectations may express themselves as murderous fury? If you hold democratic institutions up to contempt it is but a short step to holding life itself in contempt.
Pray that the Maryland police find this trigger-man quickly and let their be no more tragic victims. But pray also that the bereaved seek true justice by demanding that the murders of their loved ones be added to ever-growing list of crimes that must be laid at the door of George W. Bush”
Alright, I lied. This article did not appear in the Guardian. But it probably will at some point. Who knows, maybe I’ll send it in as copy.
Have we got fed up with Americans, especially for some reason Donald Rumsfeld, asking three questions in a row and answering them for themselves with three different but oh-so-poetically balanced adverbs instead of waiting for answers from the persons they’re talking to like normal people? Absolutely. Is Ally McBeal to blame for this, and in particular John Cage, also known as (I don’t know why) “The Biscuit” (who is otherwise very good fun, I think)? Possibly. Would we like them to stop? Immediately.
- Would you be willing to tell Miss Piggy she’s unclean?
- What would we do with all the one handed politicians?
- The Budweiser Chameleon. So you think The Birds were nasty?
- We’ve only got virgins for Martyr’s age 8 and under.
- It’s impolite here to throw rocks when someone asks to get stoned.
- Pancakes and a side of camel fat just doesn’t have that ring to it.
- It won’t help crime because toilet paper works in either hand.
- Ham and cheese sandwiches beat goats milk for lunch hands down.
- Bob Evans would sue for loss of livelihood.
- Playboy Magazine just wouldn’t be the same with Burqah gatefolds.
Blimey! It appears I am…
 What Farscape Character are you?…hmmmm. Whilst I do rather ‘admire’ Aeryn Sun (or rather Claudia Black), I’m not so sure I want to be her… I was rather hoping to be ‘Ka D’ Argo’.
Now, this is hilarious! It was linked on Heretical Ideas and deserves further dissemination (so to speak!). By the way, LOR stands for a Letter of Reprimand.
Warning! Can cause serious abdominal injury judging from the comments… I understand that somebody is already suing for replacement keyboard damaged as a result of “coffee spurting precipitiously (and uncomfortably) from one’s nose in the event of abrupt belly laughter”. 
…or how to die in aeroplanes.
Brian fears that the bracing postion is no good in a plane crash. May I offer a few words of reassurance. This is how I see the pros and cons of passenger jets.
The most comfortable ride (i.e. the least stomach churning) is as close to the centre of gravity as possible, generally near or over the wings and away from the windows. But this is usually between the engines and fairly close to the main fuel tanks. Sometimes the wings snap off tearing this section of the fuselage to shreds.
On the other hand the noisiest and least pleasant ride is usually right at the back, it’s also near the wash rooms which means that the queue will be leaning on your seat. However, provided the tail section doesn’t snap off too high above the ground, this is where survivors seem most likely, especially if they unfasten their seat belts and are thrown clear of the blaze.
Closet smokers who put gum in the smoke detector whilst sitting on the loo having a puff always seem to survive (airlines don’t like to admit this). The forward section is where the best service and most legroom tends to be found, and it is easiest to tell if anything is going wrong (lots of shouting or drunken singing coming from the cockpit are a give-away).
Perhaps they should put laughing gas in the masks which drop automatically when there’s a sudden drop in cabin air pressure…
Locked in the midst of a long range exploration of East Coast watering holes and possible future Blogger Bash sites, the Samizdata Expeditionary Drinking Force is regretfully unable to join its comrades at the Second British Blogger Bash (2B3). We’ve established a perimeter of beer mugs and martini glasses and, in a display of solidarity with our comrades in cups, have vowed to hold out to the last drop or as long as we can stand. Pitchers of margaritas are even now being prepared for what promises to be an extended effort. Although rescue is unlikely, escape is still possible. Godspeed Samizdata. Godspeed 2B3.
In preparation of the anniversary of 9/11, The Brains Trust have devised a Griefometer to answer the question of “just how upset should you be when disaster strikes?”, using the death of Diana as a benchmark. All in the best possible taste, of course.
For example, the Holocaust scores 4 Dianas and 7.7 Dandos1, with the statistics of 9,000,000 dead, on average 50% cute, in a location of 80% importance. The event had 90% visual impact and the story lasted for 825 days.
Please have a go and let us know how you get on. I put in Titanic – it hardly registered…
Note 1: For those not following the UK affairs too closely, Jill Dando was the BBC Crimewatch UK presenter murdered in April 1999. She was shot in the head at close range with a 9mm semi-automatic pistol, on her doorstep. Her death caused a tremendous public response. In other words: 1 dead, on average 35% cute, in a location of 55% importance. The event had 10% visual impact and the story lasted for 7 days – death of Jill Dando scores 1.0 Dandos.
Well it just so happens to be Hedy Lamarr Day! I know this to be the case because Shannon Okey told me and we all know that Shannon, the veritable Lucretia Borgia of the Blogosphere, would not say such a thing if it were not so.
And just incidentally, if you are going to go and peruse the Bitter Girl site, make sure you do not miss one of the funniest blog articles in quite a while:
Tune in a decade or two from now for the year 2018 version of this post, when I take on Britney Spears’ cellulite, visible C-section scars and obvious track marks as she performs “Oops, I Did It Again!” at the MTV VMAs with Michael Jackson, who, by then, will be made entirely of plastic and have a robot monkey to guide him on and off stage.
Prescient.
Today in Johannesburg, the delegates at the Earth Conference moved onto the next important phase in the proceedings: water sports.
Having accepted the monumental challenge of solving the problems of poverty and environmental degradation, the delegates have maintained their unanimous opening day resolution, that they were all having far too much fun to worry about that sort of thing and that the world would be far better off if they all did as little as humanly possible during the ten-day Conference.
So, this morning, the Conference moved en masse to the Lakeside Pavilion where they will have a choice of jet-skiing, windsurfing, snorkelling or simply soaking up that radiant South African sunshine with a selection of cocktails and a trashy novel. All eyes, though, will be on the Head of the Brazilian Rainforest Foundation who is rumoured to be something of a dab-hand at Beach Volleyball.
But not all the delegates have been this proactive. Back at the hotel, Indian Development Minister Laxmi Ennerjee spent the entire day languishing in the Tropical Hothouse Spa Jacuzzi, together with his, erm, ‘Research Assistant’ Trudi. While the sparkly Trudi toyed with his greying chest hairs, the Minister lay motionless in the warm, herb-infused bubbles; his head occasionally lolling to one side in order to lick a dollop of tangerine-flavoured yoghurt from between Trudi’s quivering breasts. In an attempt to explain away this apparent lack of wordly concern, he said:
“Look, it’s really very simple. We were charged with the responsibility of ending poverty, saving the planet and maintaining an economic equilibrium between all nations and people of the entire world. But when we got right down to it”, he sighed heavily, “it was all too much like hard work and we decided that we just couldn’t be bothered”
Despite what some would regard as a refreshing candour, the delegates have, nevertheless, come under fierce criticism from Inactivists who accuse the delegates of being a part of the problem not a part of the solution. Daniel Le Thargy spokesperson for the Coalition Against Movement said:
“You just have to observe the furious vigour with which these guys play Canasta around the poolside to realise they are actually heating up our atmosphere. They should learn to do something much less productive, like sleeping. Sleeping is fun and involves no carbon emissions whatsoever.”
Denying accusations that he was simply a luddite, Mr.Le Thargy went onto to explain:
“Our aim is get Third World farmers off of their knees, and put them flat on their backs.”
But the Conference has brushed aside these protests and, following the afternoon’s recreation by the waterside, the delegates then went into a delicate round of complex negotiations, wrangling and horse-trading before a resolution was passed calling for tonight’s dinner to consist of an open barbecue with a Thai & Vietnamese theme. Speaking to a Dutch correspondent, British Prime Minister Tony Blair expressed confidence that agreed targets for at least 80% attendance at tomorrow’s Bingo & Billiards party would be met.
Investment with a twist – invest in sin! Well, that is the sales pitch of a new breed of investment fund which deliberately chooses to wager money on sectors like tobacco or booze, according to a diverting article in the European edition of today’s Wall Street Journal (link requires registration). This makes a lot of sense. It seems to me that there must be a potentially big politically incorrect investor client base out there dying, so to speak, to invest in “naughty” areas of the economy. My favourite fund is called the Tombstone Fund, which claims to invest in the “death-care industry”.
Here’s a key paragraph:
According to Mutuals.com research, the five-year return for alcohol stocks that fit its criteria was nearly 63 percent, compared with 11.8 percent for the overall S&P 500 index through to June 30. For the same period, tobacco stocks were up 7.8 percent, gaming and casino stocks soared 116 percent and aerospace and defense stocks gained almost 25 percent.
Crikey! 
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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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