Whose Money is it Anyway?

-

Just some random economic fragments from the news today. More than £760m extra defence spending announced by the government this week, [over the next decade - to be frank £76m/year sounds a tad lame to me in today's money, given that UK MP's annual stationery allowances total nearly 10% of that sum], of which £200m will be 'government-funded'. Two things: from where is the other £560m+ coming, and at what cost(?) and given that this extra money is supposed to strengthen our nuclear deterrent capability, the figures floated for this 'investment' fall woefully short of any credibility whatsoever, given that a single Trident missile costs £17m, and that the annual cost of running the Trident programme is 6% of the total defence budget at £3 billion. All the while, they say this will create 40,000 jobs by 2030. If these salaries averaged out at £36,000 apiece [national UK average], that would equate to an annual wage bill of over £1.4 billion. And while we're at it, the UK's annual defence budget all up was nearly £46 billion in 2021/22 alone, £4 billion more than the required target spend on the environment, of which just £17 billion is actually being allocated.

On top of that, our twat of a PM wants to cut taxes and scrap National Insurance [I refuse to call NI a tax: it ain't, end of: it's the mutually-agreed central plank of the social contract]: the latter alone would wipe £46 billion off government revenue which should - on paper, according to its original, allotted purpose - have been earmarked for the NHS and state pensions anyway; and that's not including any other tax cutting they might dream up in the interim. So who's going to pay for it all?  It's a good thing that Sunak wants to make maths a compulsory subject up to the age of eighteen: maybe more people will wake up and take note of the fantasy Tory economics we appear willing to unquestioningly swallow wholesale these days. By the way, doesn't Sunak even realise that those of us educated outside of the public school system don't necessarily stay in school to the age of eighteen? Led by overprivileged, disconnected fucking donkeys, so we are...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Of Feedback & Wobbles

-
Image
Many years ago I came up with an analogy for poorly damped feedback loops. The feedback loop that prompted this frankly tart analogy was indeed a horror. Anyone who remembers shame-faced their first attempts at clutch control resulting in the good old kangaroo launch across the lights only to stall in the middle of the crossroads will have some idea of the kind of data transfer lag involved in said system. The analogy I made was that of a large blancmange. Untouched, a model of stasis and eminently stable and predictable; but prod the bugger and the resultant chaotic behaviour needs a very complex physical model and some very decent computing horsepower to predict its outputs, if at all. The system in question was a large and complex audio-visual display at what eventually became 'The Electric Mountain' in Llanberis. We were ultimately contracted to maintain the thing having been witness to and peripherally involved in its installation. Certainly not involved in its des
Read more

Sister Ray

-
Image
Ray Keats - aka Ann Key - local artist & family friend, died this morning. She'd been ill for some years, but never let it get in the way of her work or of tending to the massive network of friends, colleagues and fans she had accumulated over the decades. Her house on the High Street of Rachub, just below where we live - a former cockle factory(!) - bought many years ago when she and her late husband Ronald moved here from Manchester to set up home in Yr Achub, is currently still home to her paintings and drawings, and the front window displays her work, including the last drawing she made in hospital, just days before she died. Her good friend Colin has been a diamond in her latter years, looking out for her and just being there when she needed him. She will be much missed by this tiny community of ageing bohemians up here in the hills, but suffice it to say, George, her cat, will be well looked after now she's gone.
Read more

A Time of Connection

-
Image
I was just reflecting on the vacuum of continuity that's left behind when someone dies: that sudden sense of disjoint, of fracture, in one's personal history that takes one completely by surprise at the oddest moments. These pinch-points in memory can often yield some surprising revelations of fact about periods in one's past. One such occurred to me tonight, tending my rather lazy meal of pizza in its journey from shrink-wrap to mouth via the oven. Al's recent demise still catches me out from time to time: the space he left bounded by forty plus years of friendship. But the thing that struck me tonight was just how much change was happening on a personal and social level in the very early years of our acquaintance. Between moving here from Birmingham in September 1980 and our buying our first proper house eighteen months later, all manner of things occurred that would chart the course of our lives to the present day. At around the time of our meeting Alan & Irene [
Read more