King’s Regatta, Phuket,Thailand, 4-11 December, 2010.
With only one dead through inhaling his own vomit (officially, a heart attack) the King’s Regatta was not only a great event but a wow of a party, according to participating yachties from as far away as Canada. However, the extra, unscheduled race that took place in a gale on the last day proved to be a tough one.
Sponsored by Shaky Beer Company, the aim of the race was to get yachts and crews as near to Kuhn (Mrs) Pun’s Beach-Side Beer and Sandwich Bar as possible. Billed as a novelty event it ran true to form and the results were novel.
Khun Pun’s bar is midway along one of Kata’s magnificent arched beaches, infamous for deadly surf and powerful undertow, and a well known watering hole for those who can’t afford to stay at Club Med or use their facilities. So, for the race to end at Khun Pun’s place was a bit of coup, a welcome end to a quiet trading period but a busy time for paramedics.
With the surf pounding away, the flotilla of racing yachts set off in the driving gale. Pennants flapping faster than a humming bird's wings, some reached record speeds. Especially the catamarans. Some skippers, suspecting the worst, turned back. Others couldn’t make up their minds and turned back too late. Sideways on, sails now controlled by nature instead of by beefy crew members, they were blown off course.
One headed north and missed the rendezvous at Khun Pun’s by 500 metres. Called Bees K-nees Diver, it dived too steeply, smashed it’s keel and ended up parked on it’s side. Laughing hysterically, the crew scampered away and haven't been seen since. Also having drifted too far north, Miss Sy Gone made a brave effort after narrowly missing a large tree. Her crew seemed in with a chance as they abandoned ship and split for the bar.
To the south of Khun Pun’s place, other yachts made an even bigger splash of it. Three of them plowed into the beach with such force that they found themselves wedged firmly in the sand (and may be moored there for some time).
The catamarans were the clear winners. Arriving on the beach at a high rate of knots, they were perfectly lined up with Khun Pun, rather than her place. Like two wartime Marine Commando vessels, they scythed through the sand and headed straight for her. It was a close call but Yellow Peril nailed the result by a short, snappy spinnaker.
The skipper called out, “Fifteen Shakies” (beers) and Khun Pun set ‘em up. As most of the yachties were drinking to forget, it was going to a long night. A photo taken by Khun Pun shows Yellow Peril nestling amongst her beach furniture. ‘He came so close, so fast, that I thought it was a hostile takeover bid. But high season arrives next week and I would have said no. Or, maybe.’
The booby prize went to a local yacht that ended up about 600 metres south of the bar. Dismasted and looking like a HMS Victory after the Battle of Trafalgar, the crew offered no explanation other than, ‘Before the race started we were smashed.’ They were disqualified and have since filed a protest. When morning revealed the carnage, the Thai flag was still flying from their yardarm.
‘Damn fine effort,’ according to Commander ‘Dopey’ Dave Lifebuoy, the race organizer, who phoned from Bali. (Well, he said he was in Bali.) When asked if the event will be included officially, as a permanent fixture of the King’s Regatta, he replied, ‘Gotta go, mate. I’m wanted in Darwin.’
Monday, 13 December 2010
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
When to panic?
Don’t panic when you hear an announcement that the train you intended to catch is not going to stop at the station nominated by the rail company, at the time specified:even if it will prevent you making a vital connection with another train. Don’t panic. Act.
So there I am, following a miserably sleepless night brought on by worries about making the aforementioned vital connection, standing on a draughty platform at Rotterdam’s roofless and antiquated station. Burdened by my weighty rucksack (how come laptops, guidebooks and peripherals are so bleedin’ ‘eavy?), I’ve already lugged my 15 kilos of wheelie-case down one flight of steps and up another.
But no worries. The board was showing that the 1155 to Brussels ‘Zuid’ was on time, leaving me plenty of time to eat a sandwich made in Belgium upon arrival. Or made in China like everything else. But what was this?
'This’ was an announcement to boldly state that the super-Hi-Speed Thalys (also going to Brussels), though running 45 minutes late, would be along soon. A Thalys 45 minutes late? Lord above. Is nothing sacred? It got worse. An indifferent voice said something like, ‘By the way. Someone has put the train together wrongly and the First Class carriages are at the rear of the train instead of the front. Ons excuses’ (‘Sorry about that’).
My working-class instincts kicked in instantly. Happy as a pig in effluent I watched rich people hauling their designer luggage along the adjacent platform, disgruntlement writ all over their chubby chops. I knew exactly what they were thinking. They were thinking, ‘You just can’t get the staff these days’. Tough!
It got funnier. The Thalys crept into Rotterdam like a high-speed tortoise, and guess what? The flipping First Class carriages were not at the rear of the train but at the front where they so obviously belonged. The tragedy was that I couldn’t see the faces of those affected by the non-change. But I could imagine them and had to stop myself from emitting my Lady MacBeth cackle. Loaded up, off it went as smooth as skins being slid over sausage meat.
Now for the main event. The board showed that my working-class train was still on time - for about three seconds. Then the information disappeared. Gone. In a flash. Just like that. What the f...? My heart skipped a beat as the same indifferent voice said something like, ‘The 1155 to Brussels will not be stopping at Rotterdam today. Ons excuses.’
Ons ex-frigging-cuses? I needed more than that, God dammit, as did many others standing with open mouths, agog, appalled, bewildered. Without hesitation I sprang into action. Grabbing my wheelie-case I hauled it to the steps then lugged it down. But was was this? Younger people, unencumbered by baggage and a heart condition were overtaking me. I tripped up two of them with my walking stick - they didn’t see that coming - but by the time I got to the information desk I was way down the line.
Then, as my forehead leaked sweat down my face and into my beard I heard a voice. A lady staff-member was telling a couple of lady tourists where to go, or what to do and I heard her say, ‘Thalys’. I butted in. ‘To Brussels?‘ ‘Yes sir.’ I shook my fevered brow and all three stepped back to avoid being drenched in manly water. ‘Oh no. The Thalys has gone.’ ‘Oh yes, sir. That was the late Thalys. There is another one here already, but it is going soon. Ask them if you can catch it.’
As the other ladies paused I leaped slowly onto the escalator to platform 1b. Yes, there’s a moving bleeding stairway to the Thalys, steps for the rest of us. I frog-marched myself to the top, did a right and there she was. As I made it onto the empty platform I heard a whistle. That was when I panicked.
Head down, stick in hand, I went into my version of Fifth Gear. The nearest doorway was twenty-five metres away. Further along an arm popped out of another and waved as if to say, ‘Unless you can go faster than that, old fart, you’re going to miss it.’ So I changed into Overdrive and I did not miss it. With the doors snatching at my case I stormed the steps and landed in the space between compartments. ‘Schplunk’ went the doors and off went an on-time Thalys, a TGV intent on reaching three hundred kilometres an hour.
To say I was in a bit of a state is an understatement. Chest heaving and pounding, eyes bulging like a bullfrog trapped in his lady frog's spawn, I leaned against a carriage window. The adjacent door opened soundlessly. Out stepped a man in uniform. Rotund and frowning officiously he said, ‘Ticket.’
Stuttering breathlessly about the frigging train not stopping at Rotterdam today, I offered him my special promotion ‘cheap’ ticket for a non-TGV train to nowhere. His frown deepened. I knew that expression. I’ve been attracting it for about sixty-five years. Here it comes, I thought. ‘You now have to pay...’ But it was not a case of money. ‘Sir,‘ he intoned. ‘You must ask permission before you take this train under those circumstances.‘ HUH?
I could not quite believe my ears but my brain could and it sent a signal to my big mouth. In that so awfully polite English way I found myself saying, ‘I’m dreadfully sorry but time was pressing and I was in a state of panic.’ I’m unsure if his brain processed my state and the use of ‘pressing’, but he had heard the word ‘sorry’. Without further ado he took my case, showed me to a spare seat and after saluting me, left me to count my blessings.
Should you ever be in Rotterdam and your shitty Dutch train to Brussels is cancelled, do not fret. Even if you are already ten minutes late you can still arrive in Brussels twenty-five minutes early. All you have to do is to panic and catch the flying Thalys.
So there I am, following a miserably sleepless night brought on by worries about making the aforementioned vital connection, standing on a draughty platform at Rotterdam’s roofless and antiquated station. Burdened by my weighty rucksack (how come laptops, guidebooks and peripherals are so bleedin’ ‘eavy?), I’ve already lugged my 15 kilos of wheelie-case down one flight of steps and up another.
But no worries. The board was showing that the 1155 to Brussels ‘Zuid’ was on time, leaving me plenty of time to eat a sandwich made in Belgium upon arrival. Or made in China like everything else. But what was this?
'This’ was an announcement to boldly state that the super-Hi-Speed Thalys (also going to Brussels), though running 45 minutes late, would be along soon. A Thalys 45 minutes late? Lord above. Is nothing sacred? It got worse. An indifferent voice said something like, ‘By the way. Someone has put the train together wrongly and the First Class carriages are at the rear of the train instead of the front. Ons excuses’ (‘Sorry about that’).
My working-class instincts kicked in instantly. Happy as a pig in effluent I watched rich people hauling their designer luggage along the adjacent platform, disgruntlement writ all over their chubby chops. I knew exactly what they were thinking. They were thinking, ‘You just can’t get the staff these days’. Tough!
It got funnier. The Thalys crept into Rotterdam like a high-speed tortoise, and guess what? The flipping First Class carriages were not at the rear of the train but at the front where they so obviously belonged. The tragedy was that I couldn’t see the faces of those affected by the non-change. But I could imagine them and had to stop myself from emitting my Lady MacBeth cackle. Loaded up, off it went as smooth as skins being slid over sausage meat.
Now for the main event. The board showed that my working-class train was still on time - for about three seconds. Then the information disappeared. Gone. In a flash. Just like that. What the f...? My heart skipped a beat as the same indifferent voice said something like, ‘The 1155 to Brussels will not be stopping at Rotterdam today. Ons excuses.’
Ons ex-frigging-cuses? I needed more than that, God dammit, as did many others standing with open mouths, agog, appalled, bewildered. Without hesitation I sprang into action. Grabbing my wheelie-case I hauled it to the steps then lugged it down. But was was this? Younger people, unencumbered by baggage and a heart condition were overtaking me. I tripped up two of them with my walking stick - they didn’t see that coming - but by the time I got to the information desk I was way down the line.
Then, as my forehead leaked sweat down my face and into my beard I heard a voice. A lady staff-member was telling a couple of lady tourists where to go, or what to do and I heard her say, ‘Thalys’. I butted in. ‘To Brussels?‘ ‘Yes sir.’ I shook my fevered brow and all three stepped back to avoid being drenched in manly water. ‘Oh no. The Thalys has gone.’ ‘Oh yes, sir. That was the late Thalys. There is another one here already, but it is going soon. Ask them if you can catch it.’
As the other ladies paused I leaped slowly onto the escalator to platform 1b. Yes, there’s a moving bleeding stairway to the Thalys, steps for the rest of us. I frog-marched myself to the top, did a right and there she was. As I made it onto the empty platform I heard a whistle. That was when I panicked.
Head down, stick in hand, I went into my version of Fifth Gear. The nearest doorway was twenty-five metres away. Further along an arm popped out of another and waved as if to say, ‘Unless you can go faster than that, old fart, you’re going to miss it.’ So I changed into Overdrive and I did not miss it. With the doors snatching at my case I stormed the steps and landed in the space between compartments. ‘Schplunk’ went the doors and off went an on-time Thalys, a TGV intent on reaching three hundred kilometres an hour.
To say I was in a bit of a state is an understatement. Chest heaving and pounding, eyes bulging like a bullfrog trapped in his lady frog's spawn, I leaned against a carriage window. The adjacent door opened soundlessly. Out stepped a man in uniform. Rotund and frowning officiously he said, ‘Ticket.’
Stuttering breathlessly about the frigging train not stopping at Rotterdam today, I offered him my special promotion ‘cheap’ ticket for a non-TGV train to nowhere. His frown deepened. I knew that expression. I’ve been attracting it for about sixty-five years. Here it comes, I thought. ‘You now have to pay...’ But it was not a case of money. ‘Sir,‘ he intoned. ‘You must ask permission before you take this train under those circumstances.‘ HUH?
I could not quite believe my ears but my brain could and it sent a signal to my big mouth. In that so awfully polite English way I found myself saying, ‘I’m dreadfully sorry but time was pressing and I was in a state of panic.’ I’m unsure if his brain processed my state and the use of ‘pressing’, but he had heard the word ‘sorry’. Without further ado he took my case, showed me to a spare seat and after saluting me, left me to count my blessings.
Should you ever be in Rotterdam and your shitty Dutch train to Brussels is cancelled, do not fret. Even if you are already ten minutes late you can still arrive in Brussels twenty-five minutes early. All you have to do is to panic and catch the flying Thalys.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Deeply Ashamed
What have we in the West got to be proud about?
1) The state of the planet?
2) Our addiction to money, drugs and scarce resources?
3) The effect of Christianity?
4) Our democratic political systems?
5) The way we educate our children about values and morality?
6) Of what we did to Iraq?
I watched the BBCs ‘Secret Iraq’ the other night and it made me think about what we really did for that benighted country. So let’s take a good look at number 6 because it speaks volumes about issues 1-5.
Since the invasion it is estimated that about 100,000 Iraqis have been killed, of whom the vast majority were civilians. Exact figures are unknown because no one was counting.
When we invaded nuclear-free Iraq to ‘topple’ Saddam, there was no thought given to what would happen next. There was no plan to protect the civilian population. No plan to govern the country based on the fact that Saddam, by promoting the interests of the ‘bad guys’, the minority Sunnis, over the majority Shiites, had ruled by division.
An insurgency against us, the invaders, and internecine warfare between Iraqis, began simultaneously. The internecine warfare dominated the casualty rates. Within one year of the invasion, 30,000 Iraqis, mainly Sunnis, were dead: murdered, often by Shiite policemen, by killers who were trained and paid to keep order by the Americans, who did not want to promote Sunnis (because of past links to Saddam), nor to keep order themselves.
Into the vacuum created by ‘Christian’ America’s indifference to the plight of any sort of poor moslem, stepped al-Qaida. Within a few months, large areas of Baghdad became ‘no go’ zones. Al-Qaida is Sunni and now it was the turn of the Shiites to die in their hundreds. Outside Baghdad, in the the Sunni city of Anbar, 12,000 al-Qaida fighters paraded, declaring Anbar an Islamic Republic.
It took two assaults by US Marines to take back Anbar. The first, an all-American affair, did not succeed. The second was a joint Sunni-Marine affair, which did. ‘Way to go!’ Oh. Anbar was ruined and thousands of civilians died trapped in their own homes. But note the change of policy.
‘Christian’ America’s indifference to the plight of the ‘bad guys’ was history, a word that goes down badly in America. But by this time, over 3000 Americans were history (dead), which might have had something to do with the policy change. In fact al-Qaida’s brutal attitude to ordinary Iraqis caused (even) the Sunnis to shun them, even to cooperate with the Americans. Called The Awakening, this was a turning point. From then on, Sunnis stopped killing Shiites and began protecting Americans from both insurgents and al-Qaida.
Such was the better state of affairs by 2007, but only in the American zone. The British, ‘controlling‘ the south, were in big trouble. The city of Basra was slipping out of control. Because of moral and actual poverty (Britain’s inability to reinforce their own forces or even equip them properly), Shiite militias were set to drive them out of the city. Lack of forces and resources meant that the British army couldn’t stop them.
The retreat was covered by a political agreement. ‘You get out and if you don’t come back, we won’t kill you.‘ The British, in order to protect themselves rather than the people of Basra, got out and didn’t go back. Having sustained many casualties I expect that the average British squaddy was disgusted by the political agreement.
In Basra, as in Baghdad some two years earlier, the killing of Iraqis by Iraqis, especially of women by religious fanatics backed by Iran, began in ernest. A combined Iraqi and American force rushed south and set about retaking control of Basra. Deeply ashamed, the British offered to help. The Iraqi prime minister told them, no thanks.
All that can be said about the allied invasion of Iraq to topple Saddam was that, unlike the British, and at the expense of untold thousands of Iraqi civilians, the Americans were not actually defeated. I expect they’ll end up with lion’s share of Iraqi oil. Mission accomplished?
Our children might learn about all this, eventually, if anyone is left to teach history. We try to educate our children about values and morality by our own example, and then along comes something like Iraq. Later we profess amazement that they don’t seem to know the difference between right and wrong.
As for our democratic political systems, issue number 4, they allowed politicians to take us to war without first seeking our permission. All protests were squashed and ignored.
Because of our addictions to money and ever dwindling energy resources, issue number 2, it can be argued that to maintain Western lifestyles, our leaders are willing to go to war to secure supplies. If Iraq produced as much cocaine as Columbia, I shudder to think how much money the private contractors hired by America would be making by now.
Issue number 2 is linked to the morality factor in issue number 5, as well as to issue number 1: the Big Issue. Ergo, the acquisition and the burning of fossil fuels is wrecking the planet.
Issue number 7 may turn out to be something about, not caring about the Big Issue because we’ll all be dead beforehand. And fcuk the kids.
1) The state of the planet?
2) Our addiction to money, drugs and scarce resources?
3) The effect of Christianity?
4) Our democratic political systems?
5) The way we educate our children about values and morality?
6) Of what we did to Iraq?
I watched the BBCs ‘Secret Iraq’ the other night and it made me think about what we really did for that benighted country. So let’s take a good look at number 6 because it speaks volumes about issues 1-5.
Since the invasion it is estimated that about 100,000 Iraqis have been killed, of whom the vast majority were civilians. Exact figures are unknown because no one was counting.
When we invaded nuclear-free Iraq to ‘topple’ Saddam, there was no thought given to what would happen next. There was no plan to protect the civilian population. No plan to govern the country based on the fact that Saddam, by promoting the interests of the ‘bad guys’, the minority Sunnis, over the majority Shiites, had ruled by division.
An insurgency against us, the invaders, and internecine warfare between Iraqis, began simultaneously. The internecine warfare dominated the casualty rates. Within one year of the invasion, 30,000 Iraqis, mainly Sunnis, were dead: murdered, often by Shiite policemen, by killers who were trained and paid to keep order by the Americans, who did not want to promote Sunnis (because of past links to Saddam), nor to keep order themselves.
Into the vacuum created by ‘Christian’ America’s indifference to the plight of any sort of poor moslem, stepped al-Qaida. Within a few months, large areas of Baghdad became ‘no go’ zones. Al-Qaida is Sunni and now it was the turn of the Shiites to die in their hundreds. Outside Baghdad, in the the Sunni city of Anbar, 12,000 al-Qaida fighters paraded, declaring Anbar an Islamic Republic.
It took two assaults by US Marines to take back Anbar. The first, an all-American affair, did not succeed. The second was a joint Sunni-Marine affair, which did. ‘Way to go!’ Oh. Anbar was ruined and thousands of civilians died trapped in their own homes. But note the change of policy.
‘Christian’ America’s indifference to the plight of the ‘bad guys’ was history, a word that goes down badly in America. But by this time, over 3000 Americans were history (dead), which might have had something to do with the policy change. In fact al-Qaida’s brutal attitude to ordinary Iraqis caused (even) the Sunnis to shun them, even to cooperate with the Americans. Called The Awakening, this was a turning point. From then on, Sunnis stopped killing Shiites and began protecting Americans from both insurgents and al-Qaida.
Such was the better state of affairs by 2007, but only in the American zone. The British, ‘controlling‘ the south, were in big trouble. The city of Basra was slipping out of control. Because of moral and actual poverty (Britain’s inability to reinforce their own forces or even equip them properly), Shiite militias were set to drive them out of the city. Lack of forces and resources meant that the British army couldn’t stop them.
The retreat was covered by a political agreement. ‘You get out and if you don’t come back, we won’t kill you.‘ The British, in order to protect themselves rather than the people of Basra, got out and didn’t go back. Having sustained many casualties I expect that the average British squaddy was disgusted by the political agreement.
In Basra, as in Baghdad some two years earlier, the killing of Iraqis by Iraqis, especially of women by religious fanatics backed by Iran, began in ernest. A combined Iraqi and American force rushed south and set about retaking control of Basra. Deeply ashamed, the British offered to help. The Iraqi prime minister told them, no thanks.
All that can be said about the allied invasion of Iraq to topple Saddam was that, unlike the British, and at the expense of untold thousands of Iraqi civilians, the Americans were not actually defeated. I expect they’ll end up with lion’s share of Iraqi oil. Mission accomplished?
Our children might learn about all this, eventually, if anyone is left to teach history. We try to educate our children about values and morality by our own example, and then along comes something like Iraq. Later we profess amazement that they don’t seem to know the difference between right and wrong.
As for our democratic political systems, issue number 4, they allowed politicians to take us to war without first seeking our permission. All protests were squashed and ignored.
Because of our addictions to money and ever dwindling energy resources, issue number 2, it can be argued that to maintain Western lifestyles, our leaders are willing to go to war to secure supplies. If Iraq produced as much cocaine as Columbia, I shudder to think how much money the private contractors hired by America would be making by now.
Issue number 2 is linked to the morality factor in issue number 5, as well as to issue number 1: the Big Issue. Ergo, the acquisition and the burning of fossil fuels is wrecking the planet.
Issue number 7 may turn out to be something about, not caring about the Big Issue because we’ll all be dead beforehand. And fcuk the kids.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
They're 'Killing us Softly'.
As our children ingest oily exhaust particles into their noses in order not to breathe properly, or as we expel them into handkerchiefs as we drive to the gym to fight the fight against self-inflicted obesity, please spare a thought for other victims of our advanced industrial society.
In a heavily populated area of the Netherlands, a company that sterilizes medical equipment recently had its production license revoked. Their plant was found to be emitting high concentrations of cancer-causing ethylene oxide. An official investigation revealed that the company should not have been given a license to operate.
My local media source never did publish any more information, perhaps because the Dutch are phlegmatic about industrial accidents involving chemicals. There are more chemical plants to shake a stick at in Holland, plants that, because of emissions, give credence to the slogan, 'Jobs for a short life'.
My environmentally friendly friend, Reno, reckons the closure means that when we who live in the Netherlands get cancer from everyday chemical emissions, we can can no longer be certain that it will be cut out of us with a clean scalpel. He added, 'Ain't that a bummer?'
Remember Bophal, India? In 1984, through criminal neglect, about 40 tons of toxic gas (methyl isocyanate) was released into the air above the town. Its instant effect killed 4000 people. To-date, about 15,000 have died. Countless others contracted a variety of serious diseases.
Through manipulation of Indian law, western directors of the company were never brought to justice. Local directors, some now in the 70’s, have just been tried and found guilty. They can expect to be jailed for two years. If tried in the west they could have been expected to do their time in a prison with facilities similar to a 5 star hotel. As for the victims, some think it’s their bad luck for living in India.
And yet, remember Buncefield, England 2005? "Grave safety failures” (from the official report) caused a spectacular explosion at an oil depot. 250,000 litres of petrol leaked from one of its tanks. Following a bang that was heard 200 kilometres away, 43 people were injured and dozens of homes and business premises destroyed. The bang even frightened animals and a Staffordshire terrior pee'd on his owners legs.
Big Oil owns the Buncefield site. A British court ruled that “good practice guidance” was not being followed; “insufficient awareness” was at the heart of the safety culture at the plant. They were fined a few million pounds and no one is going to jail. Reno was scathing. 'Oops! There goes the small change and the tip for the waiter.' With that I found myself yawning. You too? Sorry about that.
In the meantime, even as we nod off, Big Oil is polluting Alaska, Nigeria, China, Indonesia and God knows where else. Mighty BP, bless 'em for their British heritage, has been trying to unsystematically wreck the eco system of the entire Gulf of Mexico single-handedly. Boom! Eleven dead and 50,000 barrels of oil spewing into the sea every day for almost three months. Tcha. Such a waste!
BP are awash with first-class minds from top universities, yet seemed not to have a plan to counter the effect of, arguably, the greatest spill in history. Reno said, 'I don't know about you but in the event of disaster, such as walking through town on a busy Saturday afternoon in winter and my pants fall down, I have a back-up plan called 'Long-Johns'.
Speaking of first-class minds: in 2007, soon after he became CEO of BP and during a lecture to business students at Stanford University, a certain Mr Tony Hayward said, “There are too many people trying to save the world.” With a First Class degree in Geology and a PhD from Edinburgh University, business students with Republican tendencies lapped up Mr Hayward's pearls of wisdom. "Way to go, Tony!"
Big Oil, lest we forget, suck out oil on our behalf and as cheaply as they can. It is unprofitable to follow “good practice guidance” because we, end-users of their dead-end product, demand cheap fuel to get us to and from the gym. Oh. Did you know that there are thousands of abandoned oil wells on the seabed of the Mexican Gulf? Experts - the silly people who are trying to save the world - say that Big Oil is creating an environmental minefield. Boom! Chain reaction comes to mind. What happens then? Goodbye Gulf Stream? That'll cool our ardor.
This latest spill may cost BP anything upwards of $30 billion. But they say they’ll survive and come out of it smarter and stronger. Reno said, ‘I'm no mathematician, but speaking of profits, if they can afford such a huge amount of money without a sidewards glance, should their end products be as expensive as they are?' I told him, 'Market forces, shareholders and pension plans, dopey,' and he apologized.
Remember when chemicals released in Switzerland killed all the fish in the German section of the Rhine? (Don’t laugh!) And what about the plastic vortex in the Pacific that's twice the size of Texas…Damn it, I’ve got tears in my eyes and I’ve lost the thread. Oh yes. How about Trafigura, those caring, sharing people who paid criminals to dump their toxic waste in Ivory Coast? 30,000 Africans became ill...Africa! I know what you’re saying. Stuff happens in Africa! Indeed: thanks to us and our advanced industrial society.
Actually, I really wanted to talk about drug companies profiting from overpricing…No. Make that the giant agricultural corporations who drench crops in pesticides. Or food producers such as Nestlé. We used to call them Nestle and I loved their products. They brought us the Milky Bar Kid, remember? They also convinced African women that their powder (formula) was much more beneficial than breast milk. Of course they were only thinking of the children…Sorry, I’m dropping off. Will someone nudge me when something important happens?
In fact don't bother. I need a rest from all this negative stuff. You too? Let's doze peacefully, safe in the knowledge that whatever disaster befalls someone, somewhere, it will be papered over before we are fully awake, or dead. Tomorrow we can watch TV and applaud creative corporate adverts featuring frolicking dolphin pods, rainbows, organic butterflies and wholesome eco-goodness.
So I said to Reno, 'We are so lucky to be living in an advanced industrial society, a society where Tony Hayward and other captains of industry work hard to enrich our lives, rather than themselves.' I can't tell you what Reno said in reply. It might keep you awake. Sweet dreams, my dears.
In a heavily populated area of the Netherlands, a company that sterilizes medical equipment recently had its production license revoked. Their plant was found to be emitting high concentrations of cancer-causing ethylene oxide. An official investigation revealed that the company should not have been given a license to operate.
My local media source never did publish any more information, perhaps because the Dutch are phlegmatic about industrial accidents involving chemicals. There are more chemical plants to shake a stick at in Holland, plants that, because of emissions, give credence to the slogan, 'Jobs for a short life'.
My environmentally friendly friend, Reno, reckons the closure means that when we who live in the Netherlands get cancer from everyday chemical emissions, we can can no longer be certain that it will be cut out of us with a clean scalpel. He added, 'Ain't that a bummer?'
Remember Bophal, India? In 1984, through criminal neglect, about 40 tons of toxic gas (methyl isocyanate) was released into the air above the town. Its instant effect killed 4000 people. To-date, about 15,000 have died. Countless others contracted a variety of serious diseases.
Through manipulation of Indian law, western directors of the company were never brought to justice. Local directors, some now in the 70’s, have just been tried and found guilty. They can expect to be jailed for two years. If tried in the west they could have been expected to do their time in a prison with facilities similar to a 5 star hotel. As for the victims, some think it’s their bad luck for living in India.
And yet, remember Buncefield, England 2005? "Grave safety failures” (from the official report) caused a spectacular explosion at an oil depot. 250,000 litres of petrol leaked from one of its tanks. Following a bang that was heard 200 kilometres away, 43 people were injured and dozens of homes and business premises destroyed. The bang even frightened animals and a Staffordshire terrior pee'd on his owners legs.
Big Oil owns the Buncefield site. A British court ruled that “good practice guidance” was not being followed; “insufficient awareness” was at the heart of the safety culture at the plant. They were fined a few million pounds and no one is going to jail. Reno was scathing. 'Oops! There goes the small change and the tip for the waiter.' With that I found myself yawning. You too? Sorry about that.
In the meantime, even as we nod off, Big Oil is polluting Alaska, Nigeria, China, Indonesia and God knows where else. Mighty BP, bless 'em for their British heritage, has been trying to unsystematically wreck the eco system of the entire Gulf of Mexico single-handedly. Boom! Eleven dead and 50,000 barrels of oil spewing into the sea every day for almost three months. Tcha. Such a waste!
BP are awash with first-class minds from top universities, yet seemed not to have a plan to counter the effect of, arguably, the greatest spill in history. Reno said, 'I don't know about you but in the event of disaster, such as walking through town on a busy Saturday afternoon in winter and my pants fall down, I have a back-up plan called 'Long-Johns'.
Speaking of first-class minds: in 2007, soon after he became CEO of BP and during a lecture to business students at Stanford University, a certain Mr Tony Hayward said, “There are too many people trying to save the world.” With a First Class degree in Geology and a PhD from Edinburgh University, business students with Republican tendencies lapped up Mr Hayward's pearls of wisdom. "Way to go, Tony!"
Big Oil, lest we forget, suck out oil on our behalf and as cheaply as they can. It is unprofitable to follow “good practice guidance” because we, end-users of their dead-end product, demand cheap fuel to get us to and from the gym. Oh. Did you know that there are thousands of abandoned oil wells on the seabed of the Mexican Gulf? Experts - the silly people who are trying to save the world - say that Big Oil is creating an environmental minefield. Boom! Chain reaction comes to mind. What happens then? Goodbye Gulf Stream? That'll cool our ardor.
This latest spill may cost BP anything upwards of $30 billion. But they say they’ll survive and come out of it smarter and stronger. Reno said, ‘I'm no mathematician, but speaking of profits, if they can afford such a huge amount of money without a sidewards glance, should their end products be as expensive as they are?' I told him, 'Market forces, shareholders and pension plans, dopey,' and he apologized.
Remember when chemicals released in Switzerland killed all the fish in the German section of the Rhine? (Don’t laugh!) And what about the plastic vortex in the Pacific that's twice the size of Texas…Damn it, I’ve got tears in my eyes and I’ve lost the thread. Oh yes. How about Trafigura, those caring, sharing people who paid criminals to dump their toxic waste in Ivory Coast? 30,000 Africans became ill...Africa! I know what you’re saying. Stuff happens in Africa! Indeed: thanks to us and our advanced industrial society.
Actually, I really wanted to talk about drug companies profiting from overpricing…No. Make that the giant agricultural corporations who drench crops in pesticides. Or food producers such as Nestlé. We used to call them Nestle and I loved their products. They brought us the Milky Bar Kid, remember? They also convinced African women that their powder (formula) was much more beneficial than breast milk. Of course they were only thinking of the children…Sorry, I’m dropping off. Will someone nudge me when something important happens?
In fact don't bother. I need a rest from all this negative stuff. You too? Let's doze peacefully, safe in the knowledge that whatever disaster befalls someone, somewhere, it will be papered over before we are fully awake, or dead. Tomorrow we can watch TV and applaud creative corporate adverts featuring frolicking dolphin pods, rainbows, organic butterflies and wholesome eco-goodness.
So I said to Reno, 'We are so lucky to be living in an advanced industrial society, a society where Tony Hayward and other captains of industry work hard to enrich our lives, rather than themselves.' I can't tell you what Reno said in reply. It might keep you awake. Sweet dreams, my dears.
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Failed States: Pug-Ugly 10:10
‘Failed State’ has become an American cliché. When international affairs are not going their way, American establishments lash out. The first thing they do to foreign States that won’t toe their line is first label them ‘rogue’, then, ‘failed’. When the offending State has worn both labels long enough they send in the marines.
Not that failed States need worry too much. America also has a reputation for losing wars against them miserably – Vietnam, Lebanon, Somalia. Or they lose the peace – Iraq, with Afghanistan to follow.
George W. Bush and his neo-cons learned nothing from previous debacles. ‘History? It’s in the past, God damn it.’ In order to avenge 9/11 they attacked ‘failed’ Afghanistan for sheltering ‘successful’ Osama Bin Laden, and missed the target abjectly. Then they falsely linked him to ‘rogue’ Iraq’s Saddam Hussein and claimed that the second Gulf War was a crusade waged against him, personally: in the name of freedom, democracy and oil, of course.
Medieval popes had the same attitude towards Saladin and his successors, and set out to resurrect the Holy Land via a series of crusades. If you, like George W, are unsure of events, Google ‘The Crusades’ and weep.
Now to the subject of one big failed State: America. Democracy is no longer the right word to describe America’s political system. The American model is an example of how the World should not be run. America has become a dictatorship by bosses (of giant corporations). Using unimaginable wealth and influence they ‘persuade’ half-witted politicians to create laws favourable to corporations as opposed to their own big State.
Look at the evidence: on behalf of Big Banks, their politicians (and ours) deregulated the banking sector and turned it into a destructive monster. Bad laws helped bankers accumulate vast wealth, even as their banks were failing, and/or, ruining State economies. Look at Big Oil and the drilling rights they secured to exploit Alaska and to take up dangerous deep drilling. After cocking its snoot at those who were trying to preserve the environment, Big Oil prospered even more.
America is close to anarchic failure, as predicted by fiction writers and filmmakers. America is part-ruled by shadowy figures occupying penthouses atop ivory towers overlooking Wall Street. Do you think they’ll care if America implodes? They’ve probably laid bets on it imploding.
But anarchic failure? Yes. Look at Detroit. Look at all the rust bucket states. Look at New Orleans. Look at the southern states awash in light crude. Look at California. With an economy bigger than many countries, California is in an advanced state of failure. Like the citizens of Mogadishu and Kabul, Californians can't get out of the place quick enough.
‘Law and order is set to break down’, say America’s rich. Look at the hundreds of gated communities being built to protect them. They’re scared to death of having to live among the poor of their own country.
If you think that these are blips and not iconic examples of chronic failure of America and the West’s political and capitalist systems, you are wrong. Having been a rogue political State for a very long time - look at its disgraceful record in propping up or installing sympathetic dictators in Latin America – who, I’d like to know, is going to slap the ‘failed’ label on America? Tony Blair?
State failure is not only confined to America. Deregulation of the banking sector, mismanagement of economic systems and false accounting have dragged Europe into the same quagmire. Some States in the European Union are set to fail by default, if they haven’t already. The EU as an entity is in a terrible state. Economies are shot to hell. Unemployment is rife and the validity of the euro in its comfort zone is in grave doubt. Other than because they followed the American model, why is that?
To qualify for entry into the eurozone, certain sovereign States deliberately falsified the state of their economic situations. To facilitate entry they used ‘creative’ accounting. To ensure the short-term political success of the eurozone, politicians turned blind eyes. The eurozone was built on sand.
Inedible euro-chickens are coming home to roost. Efforts at correcting the current financial debt crisis by spending cuts and increased taxation will have a drastic effect on European society, but not on the bankers, the corporatists, or the rich. The people who will bear the brunt will be those who cannot avoid paying taxes, the ones most affected by cuts. Riots (in Greece) are a foretaste. Resentment is building.
So do we only have the politicians to blame? No. Voters are to blame, namely, those who voted for political parties that promised to lower taxes, increase benefits, protect values of homes, currencies, pensions and shares. I.E. parties daft enough to borrow money on international markets to do precisely that!
I didn’t vote for any of them. Having no faith in free markets I haven’t voted for years. The idea of government dominated by the likes of the people who ran Lehman, or run BP, BA and Ryan Air, disgusts me. Deep down I’m a Marx and Engels-man, minus the ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ angle. A Socialist cum Luddite, I would smash machines in order to save jobs.
So who would I vote for? I’d vote for any party that vowed to abolish the House of Lords, plus, following the demise of our gracious Queen, dump the Monarchy. In contrast to America’s madly conservative Republicans, my republican-minded party would nationalise banks, public transport, energy and water companies and, in their spare time, wage warfare against car, oil and other climate-polluting companies. They would redistribute wealth and if the rich kicked up a fuss, impose a tax on the rarefied air that they breathe.
Thus, (thanks be to God, I hear some say) I have no one to vote for.
So instead of avidly anticipating social revolution, I am destined to merely watch as modern States, in this so-called developed World, slip into an amoral vacuum and fail by default. I can do nothing to change this pug-ugly mess, except incite you, the voter, to pull your head out of your arse and vote with your heart instead of your calculating brain!
Not that failed States need worry too much. America also has a reputation for losing wars against them miserably – Vietnam, Lebanon, Somalia. Or they lose the peace – Iraq, with Afghanistan to follow.
George W. Bush and his neo-cons learned nothing from previous debacles. ‘History? It’s in the past, God damn it.’ In order to avenge 9/11 they attacked ‘failed’ Afghanistan for sheltering ‘successful’ Osama Bin Laden, and missed the target abjectly. Then they falsely linked him to ‘rogue’ Iraq’s Saddam Hussein and claimed that the second Gulf War was a crusade waged against him, personally: in the name of freedom, democracy and oil, of course.
Medieval popes had the same attitude towards Saladin and his successors, and set out to resurrect the Holy Land via a series of crusades. If you, like George W, are unsure of events, Google ‘The Crusades’ and weep.
Now to the subject of one big failed State: America. Democracy is no longer the right word to describe America’s political system. The American model is an example of how the World should not be run. America has become a dictatorship by bosses (of giant corporations). Using unimaginable wealth and influence they ‘persuade’ half-witted politicians to create laws favourable to corporations as opposed to their own big State.
Look at the evidence: on behalf of Big Banks, their politicians (and ours) deregulated the banking sector and turned it into a destructive monster. Bad laws helped bankers accumulate vast wealth, even as their banks were failing, and/or, ruining State economies. Look at Big Oil and the drilling rights they secured to exploit Alaska and to take up dangerous deep drilling. After cocking its snoot at those who were trying to preserve the environment, Big Oil prospered even more.
America is close to anarchic failure, as predicted by fiction writers and filmmakers. America is part-ruled by shadowy figures occupying penthouses atop ivory towers overlooking Wall Street. Do you think they’ll care if America implodes? They’ve probably laid bets on it imploding.
But anarchic failure? Yes. Look at Detroit. Look at all the rust bucket states. Look at New Orleans. Look at the southern states awash in light crude. Look at California. With an economy bigger than many countries, California is in an advanced state of failure. Like the citizens of Mogadishu and Kabul, Californians can't get out of the place quick enough.
‘Law and order is set to break down’, say America’s rich. Look at the hundreds of gated communities being built to protect them. They’re scared to death of having to live among the poor of their own country.
If you think that these are blips and not iconic examples of chronic failure of America and the West’s political and capitalist systems, you are wrong. Having been a rogue political State for a very long time - look at its disgraceful record in propping up or installing sympathetic dictators in Latin America – who, I’d like to know, is going to slap the ‘failed’ label on America? Tony Blair?
State failure is not only confined to America. Deregulation of the banking sector, mismanagement of economic systems and false accounting have dragged Europe into the same quagmire. Some States in the European Union are set to fail by default, if they haven’t already. The EU as an entity is in a terrible state. Economies are shot to hell. Unemployment is rife and the validity of the euro in its comfort zone is in grave doubt. Other than because they followed the American model, why is that?
To qualify for entry into the eurozone, certain sovereign States deliberately falsified the state of their economic situations. To facilitate entry they used ‘creative’ accounting. To ensure the short-term political success of the eurozone, politicians turned blind eyes. The eurozone was built on sand.
Inedible euro-chickens are coming home to roost. Efforts at correcting the current financial debt crisis by spending cuts and increased taxation will have a drastic effect on European society, but not on the bankers, the corporatists, or the rich. The people who will bear the brunt will be those who cannot avoid paying taxes, the ones most affected by cuts. Riots (in Greece) are a foretaste. Resentment is building.
So do we only have the politicians to blame? No. Voters are to blame, namely, those who voted for political parties that promised to lower taxes, increase benefits, protect values of homes, currencies, pensions and shares. I.E. parties daft enough to borrow money on international markets to do precisely that!
I didn’t vote for any of them. Having no faith in free markets I haven’t voted for years. The idea of government dominated by the likes of the people who ran Lehman, or run BP, BA and Ryan Air, disgusts me. Deep down I’m a Marx and Engels-man, minus the ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ angle. A Socialist cum Luddite, I would smash machines in order to save jobs.
So who would I vote for? I’d vote for any party that vowed to abolish the House of Lords, plus, following the demise of our gracious Queen, dump the Monarchy. In contrast to America’s madly conservative Republicans, my republican-minded party would nationalise banks, public transport, energy and water companies and, in their spare time, wage warfare against car, oil and other climate-polluting companies. They would redistribute wealth and if the rich kicked up a fuss, impose a tax on the rarefied air that they breathe.
Thus, (thanks be to God, I hear some say) I have no one to vote for.
So instead of avidly anticipating social revolution, I am destined to merely watch as modern States, in this so-called developed World, slip into an amoral vacuum and fail by default. I can do nothing to change this pug-ugly mess, except incite you, the voter, to pull your head out of your arse and vote with your heart instead of your calculating brain!
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Where's the Thai Smile Now?
Where’s the Thai Smile Now?
(I thought at first that this Blog post may have been overtaken by today’s events in Thailand, but it hasn’t.) When I flew out of Phuket on May 6, I was not looking out of the porthole in expectation of seeing a man in a red shirt catapulting a homemade rocket at an Airbus in take-off mode. Phuket was peaceful enough.
But I did have a lump in my throat. Would there be a Thailand to come back to? That question remains.
When the leaders of the protagonists of the protracted clash between the Red Shirts and the Thai government met for their live TV debates, the famous Thai smile was in evidence. No longer. Recent images portray serious, determined, resigned and anxious faces. The men to whom they belong knew there would be more pools of Thai blood on the streets of Bangkok. And they were right.
Though famous for their smiles, the Thais have always been a nation of fighters. Ask the Burmese, ask the Lao, ask any of their neighbours whose borders they crossed in the name of conquest. All will confirm how determinedly Thais fight.
As a result of past military successes, the country’s north and north-eastern regions are largely populated by ancestors of people who were forced out of their own countries to become slaves of the Thais. In the region called Isan, the now nationalised ex-slaves still speak a Lao dialect, and they are physically different to those who consider themselves to be the ‘real’, ethnic Thais. And the ethnic Thais never let them forget what they regard as ‘shortcomings’.
When the northerners descended on Bangkok the majority of the populace regarded them as aliens. The two groups had no common ground. But after two months of mingling under very difficult circumstances, many of the poor of Bangkok, who number in the millions, realised that they and the northerners might have more common ground than they thought.
This common ground may yet give birth to a new political movement.
From a humanistic point of view my sympathies are with the Red Shirts. I’m not talking about their ill-advised leaders who told them to splash fresh blood around, nor about the cynical, super-rich, would-be dictator who bribed them and financed a cadre of ‘guns-for-hire’ to go to Bangkok and cause mayhem. My sympathy is with the ordinary protestors, those who have many genuine grievances.
Thai governments ignore the plight of northerners, who are neglected, abused, exploited and, as a result of grossly unequal distribution of wealth, abjectly poverty-stricken. And sadly enough, the vast majority of ethnic Thais, especially those belonging to the burgeoning middle-class, plus the elitists (supported by the Yellow Shirts), don’t give a damn.
I believe this attitude ensures that Thailand must reap the rotten harvest that the ethnic Thais have sown, now and in the future.
The Thai military leadership is a reflection of an elitist establishment. The army has more generals and ex-generals cum politicians than it knows what to do with. They know, above all, where their bread is buttered and, therefore, it was not unexpected that at some stage Thai soldiers would be ordered to start killing the un-influential aliens from the north. Neither would it surprise me that when the military seemed hesitant about attacking its own citizens, a power struggle was being played out; a price was being demanded. Though we might never know what or how much it was, or if the amount has now been paid, it has at least been agreed.
The worst aspect of all this is that the very real grievances of Thailand’s poor, and in spite of the recent confrontation, will not be on the agenda of the Thai establishment - elected or otherwise - now or in the foreseeable future. This failure to accept responsibility for the downtrodden, or to fix any of Thailand’s chronic social and development problems is going to lead to much more trouble.
I expect the current crises to be repeated, especially as millions of Bangkok’s poor, many of whom are from the north, become more aware through better education, the internet and social networking. As and when this happens, the Thai establishment will be confronted by people nursing immense anger. The thing to watch out for is when they find proper and worthy leaders.
At the next election the Reds will vote for a government that is sympathetic to the cause of Thaksin Shinawatra. And they will win, which is why the army, backed by the Yellow Shirts and the elite, may not allow it.
The other massive problem is that most ordinary ethnic Thais will be less than enthralled by the prospect of being governed by a government sympathetic to the northern Reds, and especially one that harbours a desire to reinstate northern born Mr Shinawatra as de-facto leader. Should that happen, protest and violence instigated by the Yellow Shirt movement would begin immediately.
(If the Red Shirts had seized power and tried to restore the fortunes of Mr Shinawatra, Thailand would now be on a steeply descending road to hell.)
Thailand’s future looks bleak. Unless a Thai government genuinely commits itself to improving the lot of Thailand’s poverty-stricken majority and, at the same time placating the middle class and the power mongers of the elite, there will be more of the violence we have just witnessed to follow. In fact what we have witnessed will seem like a girl guide’s picnic.
To me, Thailand as a nation is on course to fail. Unless Thailand cleverly changes course, and I don’t think it can, the lovely, welcoming Thai smile from a people ‘we’ love will fade away. It will become history, even mythology, based on nostalgic stories recounted by ancient travellers. And the lump in my throat will become a boulder.
(I thought at first that this Blog post may have been overtaken by today’s events in Thailand, but it hasn’t.) When I flew out of Phuket on May 6, I was not looking out of the porthole in expectation of seeing a man in a red shirt catapulting a homemade rocket at an Airbus in take-off mode. Phuket was peaceful enough.
But I did have a lump in my throat. Would there be a Thailand to come back to? That question remains.
When the leaders of the protagonists of the protracted clash between the Red Shirts and the Thai government met for their live TV debates, the famous Thai smile was in evidence. No longer. Recent images portray serious, determined, resigned and anxious faces. The men to whom they belong knew there would be more pools of Thai blood on the streets of Bangkok. And they were right.
Though famous for their smiles, the Thais have always been a nation of fighters. Ask the Burmese, ask the Lao, ask any of their neighbours whose borders they crossed in the name of conquest. All will confirm how determinedly Thais fight.
As a result of past military successes, the country’s north and north-eastern regions are largely populated by ancestors of people who were forced out of their own countries to become slaves of the Thais. In the region called Isan, the now nationalised ex-slaves still speak a Lao dialect, and they are physically different to those who consider themselves to be the ‘real’, ethnic Thais. And the ethnic Thais never let them forget what they regard as ‘shortcomings’.
When the northerners descended on Bangkok the majority of the populace regarded them as aliens. The two groups had no common ground. But after two months of mingling under very difficult circumstances, many of the poor of Bangkok, who number in the millions, realised that they and the northerners might have more common ground than they thought.
This common ground may yet give birth to a new political movement.
From a humanistic point of view my sympathies are with the Red Shirts. I’m not talking about their ill-advised leaders who told them to splash fresh blood around, nor about the cynical, super-rich, would-be dictator who bribed them and financed a cadre of ‘guns-for-hire’ to go to Bangkok and cause mayhem. My sympathy is with the ordinary protestors, those who have many genuine grievances.
Thai governments ignore the plight of northerners, who are neglected, abused, exploited and, as a result of grossly unequal distribution of wealth, abjectly poverty-stricken. And sadly enough, the vast majority of ethnic Thais, especially those belonging to the burgeoning middle-class, plus the elitists (supported by the Yellow Shirts), don’t give a damn.
I believe this attitude ensures that Thailand must reap the rotten harvest that the ethnic Thais have sown, now and in the future.
The Thai military leadership is a reflection of an elitist establishment. The army has more generals and ex-generals cum politicians than it knows what to do with. They know, above all, where their bread is buttered and, therefore, it was not unexpected that at some stage Thai soldiers would be ordered to start killing the un-influential aliens from the north. Neither would it surprise me that when the military seemed hesitant about attacking its own citizens, a power struggle was being played out; a price was being demanded. Though we might never know what or how much it was, or if the amount has now been paid, it has at least been agreed.
The worst aspect of all this is that the very real grievances of Thailand’s poor, and in spite of the recent confrontation, will not be on the agenda of the Thai establishment - elected or otherwise - now or in the foreseeable future. This failure to accept responsibility for the downtrodden, or to fix any of Thailand’s chronic social and development problems is going to lead to much more trouble.
I expect the current crises to be repeated, especially as millions of Bangkok’s poor, many of whom are from the north, become more aware through better education, the internet and social networking. As and when this happens, the Thai establishment will be confronted by people nursing immense anger. The thing to watch out for is when they find proper and worthy leaders.
At the next election the Reds will vote for a government that is sympathetic to the cause of Thaksin Shinawatra. And they will win, which is why the army, backed by the Yellow Shirts and the elite, may not allow it.
The other massive problem is that most ordinary ethnic Thais will be less than enthralled by the prospect of being governed by a government sympathetic to the northern Reds, and especially one that harbours a desire to reinstate northern born Mr Shinawatra as de-facto leader. Should that happen, protest and violence instigated by the Yellow Shirt movement would begin immediately.
(If the Red Shirts had seized power and tried to restore the fortunes of Mr Shinawatra, Thailand would now be on a steeply descending road to hell.)
Thailand’s future looks bleak. Unless a Thai government genuinely commits itself to improving the lot of Thailand’s poverty-stricken majority and, at the same time placating the middle class and the power mongers of the elite, there will be more of the violence we have just witnessed to follow. In fact what we have witnessed will seem like a girl guide’s picnic.
To me, Thailand as a nation is on course to fail. Unless Thailand cleverly changes course, and I don’t think it can, the lovely, welcoming Thai smile from a people ‘we’ love will fade away. It will become history, even mythology, based on nostalgic stories recounted by ancient travellers. And the lump in my throat will become a boulder.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Thailand – How to Lose Friends and influence nobody
Even after the blood-letting of April 10, Thailand’s Red Shirts continue to disrupt Bangkok. The Yellow Shirts are preparing themselves for entering into the affray. The threat of more violence remains. If the Reds move up the road into the business and banking district based on Silom, the army will stop them. Or not, as the case may be.
Staggeringly incompetent, the police will sit it out. A respected Thai commentator recently wrote of the Thai police. “No matter who wins this crazy Thai politics of colours, justice is a pipe dream when the police force remains decadently corrupt.” Bangkok Post, March 27, 2010.
He didn’t write that the military establishment is also corrupt. Plus, it can’t keep its nose out of politics. The army is in the process of dividing itself between coloured political camps with vested interests, hence the doubt about who will stop who. This makes the prospect of civil war a distinct possibility.
The world watched in horror as first, the supporters of one of these political groups, ex-Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra’s 'Reds', splashed tainted fresh blood onto selected Bangkok venues. Then, as one of the worst led armies in the world made a complete hash of trying to remove the Reds from one of their strong points. The death toll is now 25, including 5 soldiers, some of whom were almost certainly killed by paid assassins.
Paid by whom? They were probably paid by Red Shirt leaders, who administer fighting funds provided by Thaksin Shinawatra. Tragically, should this sad bunch of criminally-minded cretins manage to oust the current government and take control of the nation, they will try to reinstall Shinawtra as Prime Minister. He will make a mockery of good governance and Thailand will become a democracy in name only.
The question is, who would want to deal with a man that some brave Thai commentators liken to a common kleptomaniac? Others fear him, hedge their bets and stay silent. When he came to power he tackled the drug problem ‘with extreme prejudice’. People ‘involved’ died in what can only be described as ‘extra-judicial killings’. If he gets back into power his critics will need to watch their backs. Paid assassins come cheap in this country.
So the world is watching as Thailand’s loopy political crisis goes on and on. If Thailand’s Reds or Yellows shut the international airport again in the name of politics, or there is just one more military coup, the international penny will drop and Thailand will be declared ‘basket case’.
Bombs and grenades have been going off all over the country; like today in Chiang Mai, for instance. Before the big ‘kick-off’ on April 10, there were 20-odd explosions in Bangkok. And Thailand got lucky. Only one foreigner – a Japanese journalist - was killed. Had a grenade been launched into the back-packer community on Khao San Road and a few young tourists been found lying in pools of their own blood, the penny would have taken on the attributes of a lead weight.
I don’t know what to make of Thailand these days, but the fearsome Siamese cat is well and truly out of the bag. It is now understood that Thailand’s raging over-development is completely unsustainable; that Bangkok’s pollution is a killer. Early Spring found parts of the North and North East of the country enveloped in smog. Farmers burn off crop residue, an old practice that cannot be easily changed for financial reasons.
In addition, speculators set fire to badly depleted forested areas so that they can appropriate land illegally and plant, or build, something that will make money for them. Because they are protected by people in high places, no one can stop it happening. The smog affects thousands. Hospitals are stretched dealing with people with breathing difficulties. It costs millions to treat them and the same story will be repeated next year. Expats flee their homes and head south, but not too far south.
Three provinces in the deep south of Thailand, once part of old Malaya, are largely populated by neglected and discontented Muslims. There is an undeclared war going on between ‘separatist militants’, tomorrows ‘freedom fighters’, and the Thai military. Atrocities have been committed by both sides. Informed opinion suggests that coup-happy generals are heavy-cack-handedly dealing with the problem. More than 5000 lives have been lost. A rubber-tapper was killed yesterday.
Here in Kata (Phuket) I had a nice view of a thickly wooded hill. Gone. Not the hill, just the aspect. Bulldozers and a JCB are ripping a deep scar that covers at least an acre. ‘Someone’ is sticking up yet another condominium.
Phuket City now has two bus stations, one old, one brand new. The brand new one is not yet open because there is a political/financial row about who will run it. There’s a brand new wet fish market to replace the old one. Supposed to open in July, it probably won’t. There’s a dispute about rents to be charged (gouged) and not one tenant has signed up.
The southern highway leading to Phuket and elsewhere is very dangerous. Tourists are being transported along a road that was built without any attempt to minimise the, often fatal, result of countless accidents. On the main highway the central reservation is often a ditch, with trees in it. In places the ditch is lined with concrete.
Over the Thai (New Year) Songkran festival, seven days in total, there were more than 3500 road accidents. 361 people were killed. The southern province of Nakhon Si Thammarat recorded the most accidents.
In my opinion, responsible guidebooks should advise foreign travellers not to use the trans-Thai bus services. The guides are written with political correctness in mind. Don’t be fooled. Read between the lines. When they say, for instance, ‘the city, town or village is not particularly attractive’, they mean it’s a bloody mess. If they write it’s ‘slightly dodgy’ they mean, ‘watch where you’re going and take extra care’.
Two American tourists I met went to Phuket City for the day (“to see the Sino-Portuguese-inspired architecture”). They were back in less than three hours. ‘Shoddy’ was the kindest word they could come up with.
The ubiquitous concrete shop-houses that line most towns and many village road look bad enough, but when you look up you will see an amazing lash-up. The overhead electricity cables that line every road are as tangled as cooked spaghetti after it has been tumble-dried. When service engineers arrive to work on the supply, don’t look! Wearing flip-flops and without safety helmets, they climb up unsecured bamboo ladders to unhook, fix, then hook ‘em back up. Connections loop across roads. ‘Pirates’ tap into the supply as and when necessity demands.
Pavements are mostly non-existent in non-tourist areas and unnavigable where they exist. The Tourist Authority of Thailand promote the country as ‘family-friendly’. Absolute nonsense. Mothers pushing pushchairs face an obstacle course of electricity posts, potholes, drains, parked cars, restaurant furniture, elephants and curb stones that are half-a-metre high. Wheelchair users take their chances on the roads. If you walk down town or city roads with young children, put reins on them. (They’ll love the elephants. Animal rights activists will freak out.)
Thailand is failing. Anyone looking at this country and applying a modicum of common sense to its problems will tell you that at some stage, something’s got to give, that Thailand is going to have to pay a heavy price for such wanton miss-management.
If Thailand’s domestic political problems are massive, internationally they continue to shoot themselves in both feet. They’ve recently expelled and trucked 4000 refugees back to Communist Laos, expressly against the wishes and advice of the UN, NGOs and the USA. Needless to say, the USA created the problem during the war they were supposed to be waging in Vietnam.
Thailand has recently refused an entry visa to the sister of the Dalai Lama, kow-towing to their powerful and unprincipled Chinese neighbour. And who else, other than China and North Korea, does business with the brutal Burmese military junta? Successive Thai governments do business with the brutal Burmese military junta. And let’s not talk about collusion between businessmen and politicians that facilitates exploitation of refugees from that sad country.
It occurs to me that this sort of insensitive, non-co-operative, international bad-attitude ensures that the Thais are losing friends fast. I was once one of those friends. As a retiree, I intended to divide my time between Thailand and Europe. I leave here in May and I’m quite undecided about coming back.
Staggeringly incompetent, the police will sit it out. A respected Thai commentator recently wrote of the Thai police. “No matter who wins this crazy Thai politics of colours, justice is a pipe dream when the police force remains decadently corrupt.” Bangkok Post, March 27, 2010.
He didn’t write that the military establishment is also corrupt. Plus, it can’t keep its nose out of politics. The army is in the process of dividing itself between coloured political camps with vested interests, hence the doubt about who will stop who. This makes the prospect of civil war a distinct possibility.
The world watched in horror as first, the supporters of one of these political groups, ex-Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra’s 'Reds', splashed tainted fresh blood onto selected Bangkok venues. Then, as one of the worst led armies in the world made a complete hash of trying to remove the Reds from one of their strong points. The death toll is now 25, including 5 soldiers, some of whom were almost certainly killed by paid assassins.
Paid by whom? They were probably paid by Red Shirt leaders, who administer fighting funds provided by Thaksin Shinawatra. Tragically, should this sad bunch of criminally-minded cretins manage to oust the current government and take control of the nation, they will try to reinstall Shinawtra as Prime Minister. He will make a mockery of good governance and Thailand will become a democracy in name only.
The question is, who would want to deal with a man that some brave Thai commentators liken to a common kleptomaniac? Others fear him, hedge their bets and stay silent. When he came to power he tackled the drug problem ‘with extreme prejudice’. People ‘involved’ died in what can only be described as ‘extra-judicial killings’. If he gets back into power his critics will need to watch their backs. Paid assassins come cheap in this country.
So the world is watching as Thailand’s loopy political crisis goes on and on. If Thailand’s Reds or Yellows shut the international airport again in the name of politics, or there is just one more military coup, the international penny will drop and Thailand will be declared ‘basket case’.
Bombs and grenades have been going off all over the country; like today in Chiang Mai, for instance. Before the big ‘kick-off’ on April 10, there were 20-odd explosions in Bangkok. And Thailand got lucky. Only one foreigner – a Japanese journalist - was killed. Had a grenade been launched into the back-packer community on Khao San Road and a few young tourists been found lying in pools of their own blood, the penny would have taken on the attributes of a lead weight.
I don’t know what to make of Thailand these days, but the fearsome Siamese cat is well and truly out of the bag. It is now understood that Thailand’s raging over-development is completely unsustainable; that Bangkok’s pollution is a killer. Early Spring found parts of the North and North East of the country enveloped in smog. Farmers burn off crop residue, an old practice that cannot be easily changed for financial reasons.
In addition, speculators set fire to badly depleted forested areas so that they can appropriate land illegally and plant, or build, something that will make money for them. Because they are protected by people in high places, no one can stop it happening. The smog affects thousands. Hospitals are stretched dealing with people with breathing difficulties. It costs millions to treat them and the same story will be repeated next year. Expats flee their homes and head south, but not too far south.
Three provinces in the deep south of Thailand, once part of old Malaya, are largely populated by neglected and discontented Muslims. There is an undeclared war going on between ‘separatist militants’, tomorrows ‘freedom fighters’, and the Thai military. Atrocities have been committed by both sides. Informed opinion suggests that coup-happy generals are heavy-cack-handedly dealing with the problem. More than 5000 lives have been lost. A rubber-tapper was killed yesterday.
Here in Kata (Phuket) I had a nice view of a thickly wooded hill. Gone. Not the hill, just the aspect. Bulldozers and a JCB are ripping a deep scar that covers at least an acre. ‘Someone’ is sticking up yet another condominium.
Phuket City now has two bus stations, one old, one brand new. The brand new one is not yet open because there is a political/financial row about who will run it. There’s a brand new wet fish market to replace the old one. Supposed to open in July, it probably won’t. There’s a dispute about rents to be charged (gouged) and not one tenant has signed up.
The southern highway leading to Phuket and elsewhere is very dangerous. Tourists are being transported along a road that was built without any attempt to minimise the, often fatal, result of countless accidents. On the main highway the central reservation is often a ditch, with trees in it. In places the ditch is lined with concrete.
Over the Thai (New Year) Songkran festival, seven days in total, there were more than 3500 road accidents. 361 people were killed. The southern province of Nakhon Si Thammarat recorded the most accidents.
In my opinion, responsible guidebooks should advise foreign travellers not to use the trans-Thai bus services. The guides are written with political correctness in mind. Don’t be fooled. Read between the lines. When they say, for instance, ‘the city, town or village is not particularly attractive’, they mean it’s a bloody mess. If they write it’s ‘slightly dodgy’ they mean, ‘watch where you’re going and take extra care’.
Two American tourists I met went to Phuket City for the day (“to see the Sino-Portuguese-inspired architecture”). They were back in less than three hours. ‘Shoddy’ was the kindest word they could come up with.
The ubiquitous concrete shop-houses that line most towns and many village road look bad enough, but when you look up you will see an amazing lash-up. The overhead electricity cables that line every road are as tangled as cooked spaghetti after it has been tumble-dried. When service engineers arrive to work on the supply, don’t look! Wearing flip-flops and without safety helmets, they climb up unsecured bamboo ladders to unhook, fix, then hook ‘em back up. Connections loop across roads. ‘Pirates’ tap into the supply as and when necessity demands.
Pavements are mostly non-existent in non-tourist areas and unnavigable where they exist. The Tourist Authority of Thailand promote the country as ‘family-friendly’. Absolute nonsense. Mothers pushing pushchairs face an obstacle course of electricity posts, potholes, drains, parked cars, restaurant furniture, elephants and curb stones that are half-a-metre high. Wheelchair users take their chances on the roads. If you walk down town or city roads with young children, put reins on them. (They’ll love the elephants. Animal rights activists will freak out.)
Thailand is failing. Anyone looking at this country and applying a modicum of common sense to its problems will tell you that at some stage, something’s got to give, that Thailand is going to have to pay a heavy price for such wanton miss-management.
If Thailand’s domestic political problems are massive, internationally they continue to shoot themselves in both feet. They’ve recently expelled and trucked 4000 refugees back to Communist Laos, expressly against the wishes and advice of the UN, NGOs and the USA. Needless to say, the USA created the problem during the war they were supposed to be waging in Vietnam.
Thailand has recently refused an entry visa to the sister of the Dalai Lama, kow-towing to their powerful and unprincipled Chinese neighbour. And who else, other than China and North Korea, does business with the brutal Burmese military junta? Successive Thai governments do business with the brutal Burmese military junta. And let’s not talk about collusion between businessmen and politicians that facilitates exploitation of refugees from that sad country.
It occurs to me that this sort of insensitive, non-co-operative, international bad-attitude ensures that the Thais are losing friends fast. I was once one of those friends. As a retiree, I intended to divide my time between Thailand and Europe. I leave here in May and I’m quite undecided about coming back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)