The Sachin Tendulkar Effect: When The Old Guard Fought Back

Finely attuned ears began hearing faint rumblings of discord in the cricketing world. The Brotherhood of the Retired was seen furtively scampering off to their favourite pub – The Old Guard – in the dark of the night to discuss a matter of growing importance.

The attendees had all retired from the game, and were somewhat weary of warming the benches in the commentator’s box in dreary test matches that no one bothered to watch. The uber veteran expert opinionators encountered a new grouse. The commentator’s box faced a population explosion problem. Hitherto, opinions, sane or otherwise, were seldom in short supply but experts were. Now, a new batch of Old Guards had taken birth and were jostling for a stake in the commentator’s microphone.

The veteran Old Guards decided to summon the new Old Guards to smooth things out and to explore a peaceable solution. Sachin Tendulkar was invited as a special guest to offer thoughts. Tendulkar exuded stoic silence, as usual, opting to let silence do the communication.

Veteran Old Guard Ravi Shastri was seen hooting at the top of everyone’s voices, in a veiled but hopeless attempt at drawing attention. The shirt-ripper Sourav Ganguly, self-anointed leader of the new Old Guards, furiously waved his Armani signalling Shastri to back off. His boom boxed, Shastri yelped and sat down.

This infuriated Navjot Sidhu, the Senior Wrangler, who was entrusted with the responsibility of ensuring no meeting was ever tainted by the vice of peacefulness. He did his bit, and with his brusque brouhaha, managed to evoke an equal and opposite reaction from Danny Morrison. Danny M huffed, face contorted, mouth and eyes pointing in humanly impossible directions. He made a valiant attempt at beating Sidhu at his own game but the latter countered with a dangerous weapon – the word bomb. Sidhu trembled, words scarily rushed out in rapid succession; Peace made a hasty exit. The veteran Old Guards seemed in charge.

Or so it seemed.

Loath to miss an opporunity at letting someone else walk away with the laurels of instigating a ruckus, Ganguly grabbed the microphone and hinted that the veteran Old Guard ought to move on. Retire. Again. It was time for the new Old Guard and fresh Old Blood to clean up the mess left behind by the veterans, and create a messy legacy of their own. The long dead W. G. Grace, was seen vividly expressing his displeasure (it seemed he wasn’t allowed to bat first, which seemed to irk him the most). The psychoanalyst and accidental Captain Mike Brearley chimed in with a whisper of approval. Shastri had an attack of his customary Feelings and yelled his innards out, as always, for no reason and little provocation. Gavaskar silently lobbied for the commentary box at the Wankhede Stadium to be named after him. Ramiz Raja and Aamir Sohail seemed clueless, as usual.

Kapil Dev, with a rich history of letting tears do the talking at opportune moments, outswung into action. Finding a perfect spot, in line with the lead camera, Kapil cried his gullet inside out. Every little drop of tears was summoned from the recesses of his being and unleashed at the opponents. The veteran Old Guards smiled, even as Kapil wailed himself into enervation. Not to give the veteran Old Guards an inch, Ganguly sent Vinod Kambli to counterattack. Kambli came forth and exploded in a tear bath that seemed to knock the great Kapil off his rails. The latter quickly collected himself and parried with a seductive display of passionate tear making. A sympathy wave enveloped the veteran Old Guards. The new Old Guard seemed worsted.

Ganguly, prudently, shifted track and requested the special guest to speak a few words.

Tendulkar took him quite literally.

As the new grand old Samaritan still adorning whites, many hoped that his statesman demeanour might calm things down. After what seemed like an eternity, the Little Master cleared his throat and out came a stream of words in all their empty glory. Many leaned forward, lest their aging ears failed to pick up words of erudition. Some claimed to have heard the occasional semi-moderate decibel ‘proud’. Tendulkar seemed lost in thoughT.

God then spoke.

He made a fervent and moving plea to the Old Guards, addressing both the new and the old, encouraging them to return to the cricket field. In a single shot, he silenced the warring parties. Even Sidhu and Danny M fell silent.

Tendulkar urged the Brotherhood of the Retired to shed their inhibitions, legacy and historical inertia in favour of a path-breaking step. The Retired ought to make a comeback. To buttress his persuasion, he cited veterans from other sports, his friend Michael Schumacher for instance, as luminaries whose examples ought to be followed. He even invoked the long forgotten memory of Nolan Clarke. Now, a princely 64 years old, and thrilled to have found a mention, Clarke cast his weight behind the Little Master. Fellow forgotten Old Guards John Traicos, Miran Bux and James Southerton, the oldest Test debutant, were unamused at being ignored.

The new Old Guard seemed thrilled. Given his many unsuccessful attempts at continuing in his state of cognitive dissonance with regards to his playing days, Ganguly was seen smiling the widest. Ponting, Srinath, Jayasuriya, Dravid, Kumble, and Shane Warne were all seen warming up, stretching their dormant muscles. Tendulkar’s stature, meanwhile, soared a little more.

The enthusiasm seemed to rub off. Drawing inspiration from the new Old Guards, the veteran Old Guards plotted their comeback.

Everyone was happy.

Tendulkar managed to add another record to his cap.

He never retired.

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It is hoped that the cricket devoted post will not put off HaLin’s beloved non-cricketing nation readers. Baseball, unfortunately, bears some resemblance to the glorious sport but any allusion to cricket’s quality is purely a figment of the baseball fan’s imagination. HaLin admires all sports equally, after cricket.

How To Solve Research Funding Problems, Using A Parallel Currency System

Post a flurry of exuberant outpouring on Radical Proposals (links at the end of the post) aimed at tackling some of society’s most pressing problems, HaLin hit the pause button. Few seemed excited (HaLin actually pitched more palatable versions of the ideas to powers-that-be, who quickly reminded the fable of the goose that lay the golden egg), and less pressing issues took precedence. On careful search for thorny problems demanding somewhat crazy solutions, HaLin hit upon a problem worthy of addition to his expanding list of Radical Proposals.

Anyone who has been around academics/scientists/researchers, real or otherwise, for any length of time would notice a common grouse. Lack of funding. HaLin has long been an admirer of the Sciences – Natural, Social and Pseudo – and has strongly believed that the inability of the Illuminati to communicate with lesser mortals should not detract from their grand mission; of ridding the world’s problems. This community, generally also believed to exhibit scant understanding of the real world, are most comprehensible when complaining about the utter lack of funding and understanding on society’s part, of their many vital contributions. Rejected research proposals are attributed to recalcitrant attitudes or ignorance or both. Moreover, despite much progress, humankind is besotted with more problems than it would like to have on its menu. Solutions are nowhere in sight.

Given this, humankind faces a serious problem. A proposal to solve this pressing issue of lack of funding, whilst maintaining economic sanity, is duly recommended; for dissection, digestion, suggestion, redaction and comment. Though, criticisms are expected to feature most prominently.

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Put simply, every single research proposal across the globe vying for funding, would receive full funding support. To ensure impartiality, a pan-global entity – Mission for Advanced Research Solutions (MARS)  – could be constituted to administer duties. MARS could be empowered legally to print money in unlimited amounts, with the sole constraint of doing so to fund research projects. MARS grants would not be entirely contingent on viability to humankind and probability of success. The currency used by this entity would be a special unit, perhaps referred to as RGU (Research Grant Unit).

Every earthling alive would hold an equal share in MARS, so benefits would flow directly and equally to all earthlings. No corporation, or a small set of privileged individuals would be shareholders; as in the present-day arrangements in key economic entities around the world. To ensure market stability, trading in these RGUs would be prohibited.

Earthlings in dire need for more RGUs could enter into a barter exchange agreement with fellow earthlings, with MARS standing in as the global Custodian and watchdog. For instance, University X that badly needs extra RGUs might enter into a barter exchange with University Y, on mutually acceptable, bilateral arrangements. The Over The Counter (OTC) barter system might also insure against black market or surreptitious trading, a common outcome when public trading is banned in a commodity of some value. This would also ensure reasonable matching of excess and deficits, whilst maintaining broad market stability.

It is likely that this broad brush, open-for-all approach would encourage many to seek a career in academia/science instead of heading to finance and assuming a bad name, by default. The attractive pay-off could potentially dwarf the pay-off provided by finance. As an unintended consequence, this would solve one major problem confronting the world today; vilification of finance. However, the open door would likely encourage rampant misuse, which remains a risk.

With time, there would be a proliferation of RGUs in the hands of the Illuminati, which would, essentially, be extra currency in their wallets. At some point in time, a seamless medium of exchange between RGUs and existing paper currency would be introduced (at a 1:1 exchange rate) to ensure smooth functioning (many services that the Illuminati would use for their research would have to be paid for, using actual currency).

This would lead to a new problem. Excess paper currency on Earth. The MARS Project, with its printing of RGUs, would be akin to the present system of Quantitative Easing, being employed to combat the world’s economic woes. The creation of a parallel currency system – the RGU – is recommended keeping in mind the ill-effects of excess currency floating in the world. As excess money would lead to a surge in inflation at some point, the creation of RGUs would be a first step at ensuring that continued (new) currency creation would not awaken the ogre of inflation.

In the moratorium period that would ensure post creation of MARS, RGUs would assume the character of future money, exchangeable for existing currency at central banks around the world. Till such time, RGUs would not enter the world financial system, and inflation would be kept at bay. When the exchange takes effect, a surge to swap RGUs for existing currency might be reasonably expected.

To smooth the effect, the Illuminati (who would hold much of the world’s RGU) would be suitable encouraged to deposit their RGUs at a warehouse specially created for this purpose; in planet Mars. Much of Mars’ atmosphere is carbon dioxide, which would serve as a reasonable deterrent to a daring heist (the thieves would have to be alive, which isn’t possible presently). The warehouses in Mars might be within the realm of possibility, thanks to the outcome of the many research projects that would bear fruition due to creation of the MARS Project. Machines administered by MARS would preside over the to-and-fro transactions. Withdrawals from the warehouses could be restricted to a semi-annual cycle, and to within, say, 25% of the RGU balance held by the individual. To further encouragement, an annual rate of interest – payable in RGU – would be on offer.

This proposal, if implemented, would let the Illuminati enjoy the fruits of their labour, even if part of the enjoyment would be deferred, their grumbling would cease. The world would get solutions to many thorny problems, old and newly created ones. While net currency in circulation on Earth would increase, the above laddered proposal pertaining to savings and withdrawals, would smooth the effects of inflation.

To be sure, this scheme is not infallible. Like any system, it is open to gaming and has chinks which need ironing out. Just the basic construct has been presented here. Specifics have been deliberately left out, for want of space and to let you, dear Reader, contribute in shaping this proposal.

For comment.

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Radical Proposals, selected archives:

Tequila Shot Solution, To The World’s Prison Problem

Tax The Fat

On The Futility of Eating & Marriages. How To Reduce Food Wastage…

A Guide To US Elections: Layman’s Lexicon

HaLin has been an actively passive watcher of the intensely (un)interesting Presidential candidate debates and intellectual mud-slinging, in the lead-up to US elections. With D-Day round the corner, HaLin realises that much of the electorate is likely to be reeling under the assault of political innuendo, being liberally thrown around from both sides.

This is a cause of much concern. In pressing times like these, where activity of any form is hard to spot, it behooves each thinking human to convey an impression of making an informed voting decision, in the very least.

This post hopes to serve as a guiding light in wading through the fog.

Political Left: A group of flip-floppers that see little Right, about anything in general, around election time.

Working for the greater good of humankind, this group brandishes the sabre of altruism to great effect. The unemployed, uninsured and the unhealthy merit a special spot in their lexicon. They attempt to do much for them, but periodically remind themselves of the fable of killing the goose that lays the golden egg.

This group has, historically, displayed an attitude of nonchalance towards the economics of revenue and expenditure. They tend to view (permanent) budget deficits as manna from heaven. Spend more than what you make, repeat indefinitely, and all will be well with the world. Those in the electorate who haven’t yet allowed themselves to be brainwashed by this catchline (the pesky blaspheme) are strongly encouraged to drop their ill-functioning anchors of basic reason, and embrace what is clearly in their best interest.

This group likes to paint businesses as profit-making beasts created by the evils of Capitalism. They are known to throw good money after bad, with the sole aim of saving jobs and the economy; even though their record at achieving either is shrouded in mystery. They like taxing in taxing times and hope that businesses and individuals will pay an expanding share of a reducing pie (income). When blaspheme wonder how loss-making businesses will help increase jobs and wages, this group pounces upon dissenting voices, writing it off as a deplorable instance of naiveté, idiocy or a concoction of both.

When all else appears to fail, they opt to blame China, as the root cause of all ills; known and unknown.

Political Right: A group of flip-floppers that see little Left, about anything in general, around election time.

This group is pro-business, or at least likes painting itself with that palette. They liken Corporations, too big to fail and often too big to save, to Messiah of Prosperity. What they earn eventually makes it way to people, helping the economy, helping the electorate, helping goodness in general. This group, though, displays a lack of understanding of the wind of the day. In pressing times, a pro-proletariat group is likely to garner sympathy votes. The blaspheme who suggest this are branded as being anti-Capitalism, pro-idiocy, or a concoction of both.

This group utters things that are closer to truth than its opponents. But it fails to acknowledge the effects of basic psychology. How incoming information is interpreted by the thinking electorate is a function of how it is packaged and delivered. By adopting directness over vagueness, preferred by its opponents, this group opens itself for vilification and accusations of belligerence.

Their policies are crystal clear in their fogginess. In this respect, they have something in common with their opponents. But both sides indulge in exposing the ineptness of the opponent, while caring to remain ignorant of the muck accumulating in their own backyards.

Foreign policy from both sides, too, share some common threads. While they seem to differ in means, both sides display a penchant to land up, often uninvited, on foreign shores to sort out problems that hitherto did not exist. The process of problem creation and resolution has been institutionalised to perfection through years of intense practice. Blasphemes are encouraged to use sophisticated nomenclature, preferably purveyors of altruism, while describing their actions.

When all else appears to fail, they opt to blame China, as the root cause of all ills; known and unknown.

Mainstream business, Unbiased Media: Mouthpieces of President Obama and Left-leaners, featuring fawning Ivory Tower savants schooled in coloured interpretation of Keynesian diktats, in general; and well-schooled in selective perception and reporting in particular.

Electorate: A group, largely composed of real and professed proletariat and the creme de la creme of idleness, demonstrating a special affinity for assimilating propaganda. This affinity is neatly counterbalanced by a remarkable ability to tune out opinion-altering facts, especially of the real variety. This group is best advised to partake in leisurely pub outings with a selection of equally (un)informed mates for a detailed discussion on the best candidate and the state of the economy and foreign policy. Consensus decision-making is a hallmark of democracies, collective self-interest is an aggregation of individual self-interests.

This group repeatedly finds itself being called upon to exercise an informed vote, despite an impressive historical record of uninformed decision-making. The basic instincts of self-interest and preservation, honed by the process of evolution, miraculously seem to fall at the altar of the polling booth.

Those wondering if the outcome of the election will really alter the state of the economy would do well to follow Jonathan Swift’s words from the Logicians Refuted:

Thus at the court, both great and small

Behave alike, for all ape all.

Voting and going bust offers better risk-reward to doing nothing, for the same outcome.

The Messiah Of Failure

In a congregation of oddities, a group, consumed in the seductive embrace of success, gathered for a rather queer objective. To eulogize the lone soul in their coterie, one that had doomingly succumbed at the sharp jaws of failure.

The Brotherhood of the Successfuls were surprised that nobody suspected that the eulogy was a covert attempt at adding to their vast ego, by vulturing on the remains of the exception. This practice had been invented somewhere along the long arm of Time and was widely regarded as an instant means for self-gratification. The Brotherhood smiled, imagining the damnation that was forthcoming. Flunky took his place in the center of a circular maze of chairs. The circle was thought to be the most useful formation for such ceremonies. The arena soon buzzed with eager beavers, gleefully awaiting the gladiatorial contest. Flunky seemed uncannily calm.

Such ceremonies presented the enthusiastic with a potent weapon for heartfelt outpouring, History. Each member of the elite Brotherhood took turns recounting their success stories. From the glitterati came a famous writer, a painter, politicians, businessmen, musicians, management consultants, investment bankers et al, in a circular ebb and flow of unbridled glory.

A group consisting of arm-chair experts from various arenas, often armed with an impressive array of academic arcana, seemed the most vociferous. Each maven was widely regarded as the foremost thought leader in his/her area. Scores flocked to snatch every word making its way into the world from the abyss of their gifted trachea. Formalities dispensed with, the Brotherhood turned their attention to Flunky. Many provided a moving, eloquent ode to Flunky’s many failures. How he tried things that nobody else wished to, how he eschewed commonly accepted principles, how his attempts at reshaping a tiny corner of the world with his strange ideas were laughable…how they all inadvertently led around in circles.

Flunky soon lost track of the drumroll. Sandwiched amid this exceptional group, he listened quietly, even making a genuine attempt at faking admiration. Almost everyone in the group welcomed his genuineness, correctly interpreting it for awe. The parasiting orgy left many in the Brotherhood in a state of untold bliss. In battles between Humility and Hubris, the latter generally obliterated the former. The Brotherhood added to the warehouse of empirical observations.

After what seemed like an eternity, Flunky rose to speak. He seemed to notice that almost every success was accompanied by a beautiful story. A birth in a trying environment seemed to be a common starting point. Many, in fact, seemed to have emerged like the Sphinx, from the bowels of extreme penury, or navigating a war-torn geography; often with loss of limb, even though all items of the anatomy seemed in perfect working order.

Flunky reminded the Brotherhood that Time gradually erased from collective memory the greatest of success stories. Few cared. Fame was a chimera, and sometimes reflected a parasitic dependence on the part of the Brotherhood, for continued sustenance. The Brotherhood were peering at the world through their tinted prism, where things diffracted into black and white. Shades of grey never entered the fray. It was entertaining to see mortals being judged through a narrowly defined tunnel vision, which the Brotherhood seemed to be rather generously endowed with.

Clinchingly, Flunky reminded the Brotherhood of the process of evolution. Through the passage of Time, the proportion of organisms that perished in the battle for survival (failure) vastly outnumbered the ones that ended up being alive (successful). In Nature, failure was the norm, success the exception. In every walk of societal life, humans admired those adhering to mainstream norms, often ringfencing and deriding the exceptions that ‘didn’t fit in’. If Flunky was a failure, he was simply adhering to evolutionary norm; consequently, he ought to be an object of admiration instead of being a butt of ridicule.

In a society swimming deep in the trappings of nomenclature, it didn’t pay to take oneself too seriously.

Socratic logic seldom worked, in general, but particularly when unleashed on a group deeply entrenched in self-created dogma. Low on humour, and high on pomposity – quite misplaced – the Brotherhood were unamused with Flunky’s rejoinder.

They drowned him in another round of verbal bashing, repeatedly highlighting his uselessness.

Those wrapped in the trappings of ‘success’ trumped those in the trappings of ‘failure’.

Everyone was…trapped.

Off-topic: Book Review Blog, Introduction

HaLin has been dividing time over the past few months, somewhat unequally, between laziness and more civilised writing than what he is accustomed to on this blog. The sheer volume of the latter succeeded in overpowering the former, and a new blog is born.

http://wordjock.wordpress.com/

The new blog will serve as an archive of HaLin’s reviews of book releases, penned for official sources. In keeping with these Facebooky times, you, dear Readers, are encouraged to ‘show your love’. Who knows, you might actually find a book worth reading, after all.

HaLin shall continue to indulge in less civilised forms of writing, treating touchy subjects minus wordy diplomacy, on this blog.

Your persistent patience in resting awhile on this blog is acknowledged, with humility.

Jungle Nights – Reminiscing Wilderness

A misty morning chill gently awakens the senses. As time marches on, the fog perishes to the arrows of the sun, which assumes ferocity as the day progresses. Dark clouds take over as evening approaches; this time it is the sun’s turn to accept defeat, which calls it a day ahead of schedule. The scent of wet earth wafts through the air, as the scorched ground gratefully welcomes the rain. The crimson twilight transitions into the blackness of the night, with the moon nowhere in sight.

The combined assault of the rain and blustery winds perturbs the otherwise peace-loving trees. Where they towered motionless in the stillness of the morning air, they now morph into enraged giants sparring with the forces of nature. In the darkness, the trees seem to draw closer and appear larger. As the night advances and fatigue sets in, the torrential downpour recedes into a steady drizzle and the trees slip into a drenched slumber.

The groovy flicker of a candle penetrates the darkness, imparting a melancholic eeriness to things. Lifeless objects come to life through their shadows, which dance upon the walls in merriment. In the spartan cottage from where I write, electricity and time are expendable luxuries.

For I am in jungle territory.

A family of frogs come to life. Their sonorously rhythmic croaking breaks the tranquil night. Beginning sporadically, other members of the croaking brotherhood soon join in, drowning the chirping of the night cricket. A few of these little beauties, youngsters from their appearance, saunter next to me, contemplating a leap. I watch riveted for the eventuality. The prospect of a body less than an inch tall taking on a hurdle several times its height is captivating.

The leap is successful and the frogs are relieved.

The ride has transported them from the alien confines of my dwelling to the familiar vastness of the jungle.

I hear sounds amid the din of rainfall. A bat announces its arrival. My eyes catch a glimpse of the striking silhouette of its outstretched wings. The sighting is brief, for the bat dissolves into the darkness as quickly as it arrives, leaving no trace of its existence.

The candle drowns in its own waxy muddle. Time ticks by.

Screeches originate from a branch less than ten feet from me. My torch follows the sound and discovers the piercing eyes of an owl, staring at me inquiringly. The light stays focused. So do the eyes. I move the torch momentarily to prevent discomfiting the night watchman. When the torch swings back to its earlier position, it discovers emptiness.

The owl has disappeared.

A voice in my head reflexively recites an old verse.

We see what you see not,

Your visions murky, eyes rot.

When you turn, we shall be gone,

Whispering our hidden song.

Then you see what may not be,

Shadows move where light should be.

In the darkness, all but blind,

A restive silence befriends the mind.

 

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Originally penned on Oct 20, 2011, from the depths of a jungle in the middle of nowhere. Reminiscing wilderness.

How Economists Triggered A Nuclear War, Using Hyperinflation

Angst threatened to brim over among the Brotherhood of the Economists. In one evening meet at their favourite joint, the Ivory Tower Tavern, these troubled souls reassessed their situation. There was general consensus about the assumption of their pitiable state. It was a rare instance when the Mavens of Assumption agreed on anything, without a War.

Apart from being the butt of ridicule, generally centered around their love for making glorious assumptions, and finer assumptions about crude assumptions, the Brotherhood felt the recession had undone much of their world view. The world had broken down in their theory, though most non-Brotherhood folk held the opposite view. This did not bother the Brotherhood. The recession had pushed many in the Brotherhood into marginal unproductivity, a state worthy of much despair.

The Brotherhood plotted a fight back. They decided to teach the real world an ideal lesson in the real value of their idealized theories.

On scanning the globe for potential sources capable of spreading widespread strife, they chanced upon Iran. Here was an economy that few liked. Its grand plans of nuclearization was seen as a furtive attempt at militarization. The Brotherhood did not understand, or care about, the finer nuances of Uranium and Plutonium and isotopes, which were classified under Boreium. They decided to assume the existence of WMDs to build their strike against the vile world that disregarded their theories.

The Brotherhood were of a non-violent bent of mind. They opted to deploy a tool in their vast armoury so potent that some in the Brotherhood did what came naturally to them – disagree – with the idea. They were worried, for the Brotherhood had decided to unleash the ogre of Hyperinflation.

The Brotherhood reasoned that if they could trigger rampant and widespread rise in prices, uncontrolled misery would follow. The world would pause to watch a disaster unfold, and would learn to treat the Brotherhood with the respect they so naturally deserved. Not many in the world had experienced hyperinflation. An unknown devil could only be exorcised by a skilled hand. Bad times (for Iran) would mean the beginning of good times for the embittered Brotherhood.

They would encourage the legion of well-intentioned and patronizing nations to impose sanctions on Iran. Iran would be shunned by the international trading community. Partnering would be scoffed at, with the defiant running the risk of being ostracised from the community. Most nations would tow the line, gradually. Iran would be isolated. Payments and financial assistance  suspended.  Iran’s well-oiled economy would come to a screeching halt. Faced with evaporating revenue and cash flow, inflation would rear its unwanted head. The falling currency – the rial – would trigger this end.

Everything proceeded according to plan.

The clogging of Iran’s financial arteries set off a heart attack, causing an avalanche in its currency. Prices began rising at at nearly 70% per month when someone checked. The government tried its bit in artificially propping up the currency, in the vain hope that somehow problems would be swept under the carpet. It didn’t work. People began losing faith in the currency and this set off a new round of depreciation; which caused faith (and the currency) to plummet further. The vicious cycle threatened to cause a complete breakdown. The inevitable inevitably comes to pass.

Their plans had succeeded in stopping Iran on its nuclear tracks, though there were many that weren’t sure if Iran was indeed in the path to begin with. The Brotherhood was a satisfied lot. The world had been dealt a fatal blow.

Or so they thought.

They hadn’t counted that a rapidly dying man wielding a gun had little to lose, in pulling the trigger. Pushed into a corner with dwindling options, Iran decided to reciprocate the Brotherhood in kind and clogged vital oil arteries (passageways) that greased the world trade. Oil prices spiked, and soon many parts of the world joined the ranks of the despondent. A few suggested that the Brotherhood had triggered a serial heart attack across the globe. The Brotherhood’s eyes and ears, as usual, were locked shut.

As tensions escalated, attempts at dialogue went nowhere. Nuclear weapons, tired of idling for years and accumulating dust, were invited to do the communication. Things turned ugly. Economic warfare had spilled over to an unwanted area.

Pandora’s Box had reopened.

Hyperinflation had triggered an unforeseen consequence. The Brotherhood had wanted to teach the world a lesson. They lined up to learn one.

…with their chests (hyper)inflated.

Off-topic: 25-Word Story

The customary three-digit word sighting is in hibernation. In its place appears a 25-word variant, conveying a story.

Ray beams. Paper reams.

Eyes gleam, Ponzi scheme,

Zealous stream. Bursting seam…

Deafening scream!

Pipe dream. Sunk regime.

Losing steam; soul redeems.

…Nested dream.

Silence.

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“Brevity is the daughter of Laziness.”

– Unknown (but possibly linked to yours truly)

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25-word rejoinders would be welcome in the Comments.

 

The Vice Battle Between Satires

HaLin’s Note: This is a satire on the two broad styles of Satire writing, with a commonly seen phenomena in today’s world – Vice – as a protagonist. It is an excerpt from a longer piece that unfortunately could not make its way to the blog; being smashed to pieces at the altar of the (self-imposed) word limit.

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Horace and Juvenal were kindred souls that happened to be united in their after-life. Though one lived and perished before the other, they found common ground upon which to stand and exchange pleasantries. Both found that they liked mocking the world around them; but while Horace preferred using mild criticism and jolly humour to disrobe societal vices, Juvenal exhibited a predilection for using scathing wry wit, irony, to clothe dark humour.

On inspecting the state of affairs in the 21st century, both felt a trifle overwhelmed. From their vantage points, they could sense dark clouds on the temporal horizon. Armies of Vices – Depravity, Immorality, Venality, Profligacy, Sloth, amongst others – seemed to be lining for a grand(er) assault. They realised that the 21st century offered a wide and growing menu of vices that cried out for attention. This was fertile battleground in which to showcase their talents to the fullest. Both sensed a tinge of regret; that of being dead.

Fissures appeared between these veteran Generals, soon after. Their disagreement centred around the means for battle. Juvenal was insistent that these vast and hardened enemy armies needed his hitting and impactful counterinsurgency tactics. Horace, in his signature mild manner, felt these armies could be levelled with his mode of jolly mockery.

The two greats had gathered to take on a common enemy, but had ended up arguing amongst themselves. Both decided to keep Vices in the back-burner for the moment, but decided to use them in some form. The disagreement would be elevated to its rightful next step, a Battle. Words, of course, would remain the sole means of warfare.

Time seemed to stand still and the vast armies of Vices awaited with bated breath. They were about to be eulogized by two of the foremost Satirists in history.

The Virtues were cross as they went uninvited. Nobody seemed to want either Faith or Hope, and no one was in the mood for Charity.

Horace, in his mild manner, looked upon Vices with a mischievous but friendly gaze. ‘What would life be without them!’ he began. The illuminating self-realisation of humans’ inventive abilities was possible only due to the Vices. Contentment with the milieu would never have pushed humans to discover a horde of useful (and useless) paraphernalia. Horace particularly liked the history of humans’ love affair with machines of battle. From the archaic longbow to nuclear arsenal; none of these innovative ways of exterminating a race would have been possible without another vice, Distrust and Conceit.

The altered dynamics of city dwelling, thanks to advances in civilisation, could never have triggered a vast array of exotic diseases, many terminal, without the vice of Desire. This very development, termed urbanisation, also contributed to the development of hitherto unknown subjects like Economic Geography. A growing list of academics would never have made a life and some Paper money, but for all these wondrous events being brought to fruition by Vices.

Humans’ penchant for communal living, societal jousting and long hours at work, thanks to Vices, also created an entire profession of psychologists and psychiatrists. In the days of farming yore and barter system, stress was unheard of. Psychiatrists were not needed at all. This group would have never have given birth to famous personalities but for Vices.

Juvenal cut in and accused Horace of abusing another vice, Self-gloating, for his personal benefit. He requested an opporunity for a strike. Horace grudgingly made way.

Juvenal noted that the Vices were inveterate conquerors. Through years of fine tuning they had becomes Masters of regenerative degeneracy. When Virtues congregated, the Vices arrived for an uninvited supper. It so happened that the ensuing melee generally resulted in a rampaging victory for the latter. Vices recognised, through astute observation, that humans had demonstrated a strong aptitude for falling prey to Vice‘s many forms. Foremost among them were Desire and Possession.

The Generals were so effective in drawing out humans from one state of vice, Sloth, to another that they were afforded a special place in the annals of the Vices. Beginning with the history of the monetary system, humans transformed from a state of reasonable discontentment to a state of unreasonable contentment. When the Metal Monetary Standard of economic organisation proved to be a limiting force in satisfying humans’ exponentially rising desires, they readily abandoned it and adopted a Paper Currency system. It amused him greatly that humans, supposedly rational species, could fall prey to attaching so much importance to Paper money. A unit of paper lost value through time. The only way an illusion of prosperity could be maintained was by increasing volume (accumulating more paper). Desire and Possession were indeed connoisseurs in the art of persuading humans, who duly obliged by forsaking their basic capacities to reason.

As Desire and Possession gloated, their rickety underling Greed, in a signature display of personality, muscled his way ahead of his superiors, to assume credit. Greed felt shortchanged at not being given his due. He was never mentioned, not even once, in the eulogy to the Vices.

It was now Horace’s turn at accusing Juvenal of taking unfair advantage. Horace intoned Conceit, which Juvenal parried with a charge of Jealousy.

The Satirists battled.

Vices had won.

A Short History Of Problems

Somewhere along the 21st century, the world reached a tipping point. Stupendous progress had been made in almost every area, known and unknown, by humans. From the days of the early Neanderthal, humans progressed from a state of being inundated with problems and no means, to a state where they were inundated with means and no problems.

This caused a big problem.

The happiness of the past was a distant memory. Humankind’s ignorance over much of history had created a situation that had facilitated peaceful coexistence; between Earth and Earthlings, consequential and otherwise. There wasn’t much to do, once the early day errands were completed, and humans felt a pressing need to keep boredom at bay. Inventing problems that did not exist provided a wonderful solution.

Since then, much ingenuity was devoted to conjuring up problems so that everyone was kept busy.

The apple-chomping, treetop-romping biped gradually began to feel the need to indulge in clothes. Winter came along and brought with it the reminder of Man’s inability to cope with extreme cold. Shopping was an unheard of fad at the time and alternatives were needed. The needle and thread were invented as a result, initially as a means to insulate against cold and then as a means to augment social impression. The latter worked better.

A little later, humans learnt to make the bow and arrow, originally as a tool to help in animal hunting. Soon, the tool was found to be extremely useful in hunting humans too; and large-scale fighting (battles, wars) was invented. Humans learnt to create fire and it has generally been downhill ever since. They also discovered that often fire could be created but not extinguished, while water could be extinguished but not created. This was likely to emerge as fertile ground for future fighting.

The War Culture then underwent major refinements as the Industrial Revolution facilitated the building of metal-based arsenal. Much life was lost in the ensuing experimentation phase. It kept the balance, though. Humankind morphed from having numerous mercenaries and few weapons, to having numerous weapons and few mercenaries. Paradoxically, as the value accompanying the style of life diminished, the value attached to lifestyle increased, generally disproportionately.

A lucrative exercise was discovered in the fine art of Strategy, which involved thinking up a plausible number of implausible problems. Humans found, much to their glee, that Strategy was a potent warehouse for inventing problems. What began in the sphere of foreign affairs and war, with due gratitude to Imperialism, gradually found a cosy dwelling in corporate affairs.

Dwellings, incidentally, assumed centre stage. Bricks, mortar, essential commodities were all found to satiate humans’ desire to have a roof over their heads. What began as an outcome of necessity soon morphed into an instrument of indulgence. Unnecessary massive structures were deemed to be necessary for conveying structured massiveness.

Since the gallingly humbling discovery of their uselessness in the larger scheme of things, humankind increasingly succumbed to restlessness, in the Post-Copernican era. They tried seeking refuge in the comforting arms of education, which they thought could help drill some meaningfulness into their dreary lives. Humans’ desire to invent problems accelerated.

Increasing civility stoked the desire to eschew the power of the Feet for the power of the Wheel. The Wheel was invented and humankind breathed easy, for a brief period. This led to the problem of discovering a fuel to power these creations. Crude Oil provided the answer and Man spent centuries drilling holes into the hitherto unperforated surface of the Earth. Then a need was felt for electricity to power newly-built homes. Coal provided the answer. Much of that was under the surface of the Earth. More drilling happened. When coal became too costly, natural gas was discovered as an alternative. Coincidentally, even this was found to be hidden under the surface of the Earth. More drilling happened. Gradually, many commodities that humans desired were found to be hidden underground. A Drilling Culture was born. The incessant drilling led to disturbances in the sea-bed and a bunch of species perished. Permanently.

Then humans took cognisance of the intense competition from the Brotherhood of the Birds and proceeded to beat them at their own game, by inventing the aircraft. Many birds perished as a result of unscheduled mid-air meetings with Man’s latest creation. Some humans, it must be added in the spirit of fairness, attempted building wings, and perished during the testing phase. Permanently.

The periodic mass killing and clustered dwelling led to the emergence of an eclectic menu of diseases that threatened to exterminate humans. Humans had chanced upon their biggest problem. Medicines and vaccines and elixirs were concocted to keep these raging monsters at bay. Some (diseases) were successfully exterminated but others morphed into alternatives, to manifest at a later date. Humans welcomed it. The goose that lay the golden egg was to be revered, never to be killed.

The invention of Paper Currency proved to be a tipping point in irreversibly stoking humans’ desires. Suddenly, everything seemed easy. All that was needed was accumulation of sufficient wads of Paper. It was found that Paper had the power of the Cure-All. If only sufficient amounts were created and floated around, all appeared well. The few that paused to point out that this was akin to an addict taking periodic drug shots, with a high possibility of ending in disaster, they were dismissed.

In a surprising turn of events, humans had gone from having few problems and no Paper Currency, to having many problems and much Paper Currency, to having few problems and incredible amounts of Paper Currency.

Gradually, all problems ended.

Or so it seemed.

This created a big problem.

—-

Suggestions for inventing new problems will be welcomed in the Comments. Thank you.

 

 

 

How The CON Sea Problem Was Resolved – Satire Of The South China Sea

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to reality, however dysfunctional, is entirely intentional.

The nuclear age that had taken birth, surreptitiously, in the depths of the last World War, was proving to be a promising financial disaster for countries across the globe, already pulverised by the never-ending financial crisis.

Wisdom had begun to dawn on the handful of nations that were perched high on the nuclear ladder. They realised – after decades of sinking investment in fortifying themselves – that it was essentially a costly experiment in nothingness. Since 1945, despite close encounters and promising starts, miraculously, humankind hadn’t succumbed to unreason. Half a century had passed and the world had witnessed little mass action. No wars were forthcoming. Griping was high, as a result.

Smaller nations were knocking on the door to be part of the elite Fight Club. The Wise Guys nodded sadly, as attempts to pass on the lessons of their folly to these new members failed miserably.

A Council of Nations (CON) had been strung together, amid an atmosphere of healthy mistrust and cordial suspicion. A meeting was arranged and CON Members assembled at an unknown location. The agenda was unclear but many assumed the platform was likely to be used to conjure up a consensus to waging war, and putting an end to decades of collective wasteful expenditure and inaction.

An issue, which had the potential to trigger inclusive disharmony, was the need of the hour. Suggestions were solicited and after brief jousting, Members agreed on the CON Sea. The CON Sea was a sore nerve for years. Everyone thought they owned parts of the Sea but nobody seemed ready to agree. Even to disagree.

At stake were big numbers; multi-billion barrels of crude oil and multi-multi-billion cubic feet of natural gas. Or, so everyone thought. Curiously, everyone’s interest was piqued the moment these hidden treasures were discovered. Financial considerations had a magical way of fathering sovereign interests.

The largest CON Member by size – they called it Big C – immediately jumped into the discussion. It wanted a leading voice and exercised its rights to much of the area, citing history. History was a faithful friend to those particularly gifted in selective perception. Almost all CON Members seemed to share this exceptional gift. To their surprise, Members found that their respective drawings on the map seemed to overlap with everyone else’s.

Tempers threatened to simmer, and then soar. The smaller CON members harboured secret misgivings towards Big C, whose sole reason for existence was to thwart them, or so they thought. They wanted to see Big C out, if possible, but few enjoyed the force or will for a frontal assault. Forced smiles were seen. The meeting went nowhere.

Some smaller CON Members thought of turning to U. Sham, to solicit its wisdom. Sham had a reputation around the world as the Omnipresent Purveyor of Universal Freedom, who had a curious way of landing up, often self-invited, on sensing trouble. Its advice – solicited or otherwise, frequently otherwise – was aimed at quelling trouble when it saw one. Mystically, Sham’s ‘interests’ seemed to span the globe, even in places it had never visited, or heard of, before.

This was fertile territory indeed. U. Sham yearned to get involved, but wasn’t invited. Worse, none seemed keen on extending an invitation. It hoped that someone might invoke the Mutual Defence/Security Treaty that might help it sneak in to the Fight Club. Of course, this could happen only if Big C acted unruly. Big C appeared uninterested, so far. Whether Big C wished to send a message to other CON Members or to U. Sham (or both) was not superficially clear.

Meanwhile, a few more players were in motion elsewhere. Com. Reddie, was seen in conversation with a rather preachy icon known for his pacifist stance, G. D. Ian.

Both seemed a trifle worried at this drama. They thought, not without basis, that CON Sea was really a subtle exchange between Big C and U. Sham. They had to unite, even if temporarily, to avoid being sidelined by either the former, or the latter.

Matters came to a head, soon after. But almost everyone, independently, decided that nuclear arms were an inappropriate tool for warfare as surprise element was non-existent. Something else was needed in its place. They settled for Edible Warfare.

Thanks to technology, the world now produced and ate so much food, inventories were swelling globally. Food rotted, as inefficiencies in the supply chain between inventories and those in need of food were high. It was thought fighting with Food would serve multiple purposes. It would take care of wastage, possibly solve the problem of hunger (socially responsible objectives) and would be a truly surprise element (strategic objective).

The launch of battle was disputed. U. Sham assumed Big C of hanky-panky, Big C duly reciprocated with its perception. Smaller CON Members wished to have the first-mover advantage and assumed that U. Sham would assume Big C’s assumption and would go to war anyway. So they moved pre-emptively. Reddie consulted G. D. Ian, who seemed to be in the default posture of saintly meditation. Stupor was broken, belatedly, and they decided to get involved.

D-Day dawned and bombings began. Food-laden ICBMs flew furiously hither thither. MIGs and F-s downloaded food grains, while submarines capable of carrying vast tonnage of food as payload zoomed underwater. The assault of edibles was so fierce and so much food exchanged that the world paused to wonder. No one had thought there was such a huge stockpile of food on the planet. Gluttony and wastage competed for top spot.

Hawk-eyed observers sensed certain changes as a result of this mode of warfare. Instead of cowering in fear, people began eating more free food. They ate so much that large swathes of populace succumbed to the bear hug of gluttony and obesity. Damage was mutual and widespread.

Both social and strategic objectives were met. But there was no winner.

A gargantuan amount of food was eaten. More was simply frittered away. Edible Warfare had exacted a great toll. There was massive food shortage.

Nobody seemed interested in the barrels of oil and cubic feet of natural gas camouflaged beneath the CON Sea.

These could not be eaten.

 

 

 

A Negative (Interest Rate) World: When The World Plunged Into Its Mirror Image…

(Un)customary Warning: This is a parody of a rather boring real-life event. Negative interest rates; a topic high on Repulsive Quotient. Mumbo-jumbo is kept down to a minimum, however, and one hopes the brief waddle through an arcane world turns out to be an enjoyable ride.

——————–

Johnny Simple was flummoxed and a trifle grumpy. The reason behind his grumpiness was his government. Simple didn’t really harbour views on the quality, or the sanity, of his government (‘I couldn’t care less’), but in the sleepy surroundings of his home, his mind was astir. An investment that he had made – out of his own free will – was giving him ample cause for bemoaning.

He had chosen the safety of his trustworthy government’s Bonds, had made an investment for a return, waited…but on maturity, something seemed amiss. Simple had naively thought his government would return his principal and then something extra, on his investment. But his government seemed to have charged him for the privilege of investing with it. He learnt the true meaning of ‘return’. To air his misgivings, he sought out a friend, Complexius, and learnt a bit about himself and human behaviour. Complexius quickly got down to dealing with complexities.

For centuries, people thought a country’s government was the safest of safe places to park one’s capital. It was simple. You invested in a country’s government bond, the government provided interim happiness (interest on the bond), and one got one’s investment back at the end of it all. This was when countries around the world were paragons of strength.

Like a body that wilts under the tentacles of cancer, countries were now consumed by Debt. A pale shadow of their strong former selves, countries were scampering to resuscitate one another. The world had changed.

Bank deposit rates had gone Negative.

Ailing countries proclaimed that considering their financial ill-health, their citizens would now have to pay them for the privilege of safe-guarding their savings. A few paused and thought, deteriorating financial health ought to lead to ever higher interest rates as compensation. What in the heavens was happening here? This minority, however, was superseded by a vast majority that deemed it rational to turn over their savings to near-default governments, that were now mavens of shakiness and scrambling in the race for life-support.

Risk-free return was now replaced by returns-free risk.

But humans, bless their rational souls, continued ‘investing’ blissfully in their rationality.

Some thought of taking this a step further.

Earlier, everyone desired more money and growing paper wealth. The rules had changed. Holding Paper Currency was now anathema. There would now be a mad desire to lose money. People would be paid to whisk money off their hands, instead of whisking it off others’ hands, as used to happen earlier.

Soon perpetrators realised that heading to an Ivy League was a great way of launching their lose-money careers. The degrees cost a bomb, and it was seen that Ivy League experience in blowing money served as a tremendous adornment in one’s CV.

This led to a happy situation, where smart fellows (with Ivy League backings) now spent their waking hours conjuring up ways to lose money. Investors brandished their capacity for generating the highest rates of return earlier, in order to garner investors. Now, everyone proudly brandished their capacity to lose other people’s money. It was observed that the ones with a long and established track record of losing money, often in scintillatingly novel ways, seemed to enjoy great demand.

Banks, which earlier were vilified by the larger public, suddenly assumed a God-like persona. Many thought no one would know how to lose money better than those with a centuries-old history of practising the fine art. Banks did not disappoint. Complex derivative transactions, which earlier were onstensibly aimed at reducing risk of loss, were now in vogue; with the sole purpose of finding complex ways of increasing risk of loss.

Governments across the world, well, were already in the game before most others.

This culture spilled over to the social sphere, threatening the very fabric of society by questioning age-old customs. The historical roles of the pilferer and the ‘pilfered’ swapped. Thieves, existing and aspirants, took umbrage to this unwanted development. They remonstrated that their identities were being snatched away forcibly and blamed lose-money Capitalism for this conspiracy.

The culture of education underwent a change too. Oodles of moolah was now spent in providing young humans with an that had little value. The institutions soon had a problem, they were generating massive amounts of money without enough outlets for losing it. So they turned to paying parents to send their kids to school. This circle of bliss, paradoxically, left everyone unhappy. Employment went through the roof, as everyone scrambled to lose money. Governments found that they had little to do, leaving them grumpy. There was no money in being a politician.

Eating also witnessed some queer developments. Farmers now fell over one another to pay consumers to buy food. Gradually, most resorted to not producing any food at all. Food was a source of headache for these producers, so they weeded out the cause. Humankind did not take to this kindly.

Riots began, queerly due to the negative prices for essential food commodities, and then thanks to food scarcity. Food scarcity, however, led to a death spiral of ever lower prices now. Things were not turning out well.

Riots soon morphed into skirmishes, which then morphed into regional squibbles, which then morphed into nationwide agitation, which then morphed into international conflict. Ending in obliteration.

Complexius’ exposition left Simple with a heavy head.

He had never thought losing money would lead to such unhappiness and collective disaster.

On The Futility Of Eating. Marriages. How To Reduce Food Wastage, By Banning Marriages

On The Evolution & Futility of Eating

By assigning appropriate weights to preconceived biases and no objectivity, one would be drawn to posit that the act of living out a life is an activity high on wastefulness. Being alive is a tough chore.

The aboriginal human found much nourishment in the rawness afforded by Nature. Climb a tree, pluck and devour fruits whose names early Adam did not know (or care about), or dive into friendly waters for a wondrous menu of exotic aquatica, or, if he had the motivation, to hunt for slippery quadrupeds. Everyone was entertained and lived happily; though some died in the process.

But all good things come to an end.

Nobody knows why we are here but being here, we enthusiastically look forward to indulging in belly enhancement. As mankind progressed, we experienced a bewildering desire to attain a level of culture in our eating habits. Few paused to ruminate, pun unintended, that after a very brief interlude spent flirting with the insides of the mouth, food’s journey through the gullet was swift, and once it landed in the stomach, the drama was over. Food entered the mouth in one form, journeyed in another and reached the stomach in a completely unrecognisable form. During meal times, we periodically indulge in the above activity, not once but several times over. Repeating the same set of movements.

Then, some more changes happened.

Multi-century growth in paper wealth and technological advancements led to a situation where we now produce more food than we eat more than we need. In this indecent show of gluttony are a great number of humans that go hungry.

Death is a given but we derive much thrill from delaying the process. Eating is a global bane.

Included in the assorted obnoxious wastes that are expelled naturally, in the process of eating, food wastage is a particularly unwanted consequence. Contributory factors behind this wastage can be traced to the development of another fad. Marriages.

The Futility of Marital Union

Much as death is the norm, life the exception, marriage is an exception to Nature’s evolutionary norm of polyamory. By inwasteing in medical research, we have succeeded in prolonging the exception of life. And by a jingoistic obsession with marital bondage, we have tried to achieve something similar in another arena.

Nature eventually prevails, as the chart below, capturing Marriage and Divorce trends in UK, seems to indicate.

Monetary benefits and convenience aside, there is no compelling reason for humans to indulge in the blissful ignorance of marital bliss. Through evolution, Companionship and Pleasures never knew about the existence of the M-word, which remains an entertaining man-concocted attempt at altering the course of Nature.

Radical Proposal: How To Reduce Food Wastage, By Banning Marriages

Policy actions that reverse these unwelcome trends should be welcomed and given a fair run. Much good can be achieved by addressing both these ills, ideally through a single policy.

One such radical proposal follows.

India is a good geography to begin with, for multiple reasons. In a wondrous irony, India has the second largest stockpile of food in the world yet has a quarter of its populace going to bed hungry and is home to over 40% of the world’s undernourished children. In addition to these, it is also one of the geographies best known for Big-Fat Weddings, where ostentatiousness is directly proportional to one’s apparent ‘arrival’ in society. Multi-thousand guest lists are common and understated vulgarity is scoffed at.

Some fun with numbers, to get a handle of the size of the problem. According to the Food Ministry, 100,000 weddings and social galas happen daily. Assuming a bare minimum of 50 guests are invited to the food fiesta, that’s a princely 5 million belly enhancers at work. Daily. Further assuming that the average meal weighs 500 gram, that’s 2.5 million kilogram of food. About 20% is wasted (an underestimate, most probably), so this translates into a conservative guesstimate of half a million kilogram of food wasted. Daily.

Some value guesstimates. At $5 per plate (conservative), $25 million is directed towards this display, daily. At 20% wastage run-rate, $5 million goes down the drain, quite literally, every day. ~$2 billion per year in wastage. Spread over a decade, this would dwarf Cyprus’ economy.

The distribution of food wastage is most likely skewed towards certain geographies, thanks to such ancillary activities of entertainment. Banning marriages might likely stem this rot, on needless wastage of precious food and needless wastage of (essentially worthless) money.

This would, additionally, also set right our aberrational tampering of Nature’s basic diktats of polyamory.

Successful application, overcoming intense resistance, could then encourage extensions to other geographies. Gradually, the entire globe would be covered under this policy, which shall fall under the aegis of a pan-global body, intended at rectifying Man’s blasphemy of Nature.

The body might be named, somewhat tongue-in-cheek as; Humans for humans, against Natures Laws. Which is true enough to convince unsuspecting humans to take the bait.

The inherent limitations and one-leggedness of this radical proposal is not lost on yours truly. But then, were one to ponder, most plans that humans have instituted throughout history for supposed community benefit have never really worked well for everyone and have broken down, at various points.

Going bust is the norm. One hopes this humble proposal shall be added to the long list of futile experiments attempted by Man.

No one died trying.