The book, "Real-Life economics" is edited by Paul Ekins and Manfred Max-Neff. I first heard about it when Max-Neef was awarded an alternative Nobel prize for economics last year and was featured on "Democracy Now" with Amy Goodman. Max-Neef is from Chile, and is well known as a "bare foot economist" whose work deals the base of societies vs their superstructures. So, he studies how people work, how they live, etc. as the basis for his economic theories, prescriptions and solutions. Seems a little "unreal" in an economy/civilization of neo-conservative thinking. where the stock market, the corporate power structure, and the top down plutocratic structures rule almost everything.
At least for now, with fissures, cracks and holes seemigly apparent most everywhere. The volume mentioned is highly recommended as a way of looking both at the present and (if we have one) the future. The editors both have essays in the volume, and are joined by an array of international economic experts which share their from the ground up views. Part l is "On the Nature of the Economy and Economic Science, Part II On Economic Activity, Progress and Development, Part III On the Mechanisms of Economic Policy, with a brief Conclusion, an ample Appendix: contacts and addresses, Bibliography & Index. The book is published by Routledge in London and New York, c1992. A new volume of Max-Neef is due out later this year.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Living in the Present $
The depression was a instructive time to learn about money. From school we went to the bank fairly frequently to deposit our pennies, nickles and dimes into our saving accounts, and then proudly carry the little books home to show our parents. Saving money was part of our education, credit cards were unknown, and would probably have been unmentioned even if they were around. It wasn't even optional not to think of the future in this regard. Was it Benjamin Franklin that said: "A penny saved is a penny earned," and several years ago on our first farm a local farmer echoed that sentiment when he reminded me that every cent unspent was just like money in the bank.
Lester and I were on our way up the hill to the metal pile with cutting torch. Seems there was a part there that would work on the Farmall, we needn't weight the costs of going to the dealer or the tractor junkyard. The part was there, it was just a matter of getting it off, using some rust buster on it, and getting 'er installed. Later on in his dotage, Lester and his wife, Millie, would get caught up in driving twenty miles to Walmart to save a few dollars on this or that, I don't think dear Benjamin Franklin would have been amused.
Living in the present is another matter, although it may have had something to do with Lester and Millie's Walmart dilemna. The times have become tougher, people are more distracted and needing to be pacified; and so saving money is not so important and spending it is. The dilemma is obvious, and credit cards and the entire credit regime can't make up the difference. Debtors anonymous and the bankruptcy courts have to be legion, and the need to get satisfaction from spending money will just get more extreme. In my late seventies I can only shake my head and try to understand what youner people are going through. I sympathize completely, of course, and wonder how in the world the spending and saving of money will shake out.
Lester and I were on our way up the hill to the metal pile with cutting torch. Seems there was a part there that would work on the Farmall, we needn't weight the costs of going to the dealer or the tractor junkyard. The part was there, it was just a matter of getting it off, using some rust buster on it, and getting 'er installed. Later on in his dotage, Lester and his wife, Millie, would get caught up in driving twenty miles to Walmart to save a few dollars on this or that, I don't think dear Benjamin Franklin would have been amused.
Living in the present is another matter, although it may have had something to do with Lester and Millie's Walmart dilemna. The times have become tougher, people are more distracted and needing to be pacified; and so saving money is not so important and spending it is. The dilemma is obvious, and credit cards and the entire credit regime can't make up the difference. Debtors anonymous and the bankruptcy courts have to be legion, and the need to get satisfaction from spending money will just get more extreme. In my late seventies I can only shake my head and try to understand what youner people are going through. I sympathize completely, of course, and wonder how in the world the spending and saving of money will shake out.
Buddhist Fly
Working in the kitchen, getting some lunch fixed, the first giant fly of the season landed on the edge of the ingredient bowl. Thus a flash back to my physiology class, like a thunderbolt, the microscope experience with a fly under glass, Mrs. Berringer, John Marshall H.S., L.A., circa. l947. Fight or flight, first cover the bowl.
Hit the fly? Thou Shalt Not Kill, then then the more contemporary Buddhist version comes to mind, more complicated via the Lama. But a reflex produces a flyswatter BAM, fly to the floor, and then the words of Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche: "The person inflicting the death is sowing seeds for future suffering on an enormous scale, far greater than that of his victim, and he doesn't even realize it. Surely both the victim and aggressor deserve our compassion."
Sanitation be damned, we must preserve all of life and not be concerned about the microbes. What is it? "What you don't see won't hurt you," and the legacy of ancient teachings might be more important than health? Mrs. Berringer must be in another incarnation by now, but it would have been fascinating to bring the Biblical and Buddhist concerns up in her (largely) health class.
She had a friendly, rollicking kind of Old Testament authority about her, I can't in my wildest dreams imagine a smart ass student suggesting to her and the other students that health might not be on any kind of par with Buddhist morality or the 10 Commandments.
The Buddhist Fly is in the ointment of our civilization and others, millions of past, present and future military warriors and their instigators will be living out the results of their involvements in the killing of others. The kitchen may be for health inspectors, for the squeamish who would dare to compare killings for ideology, empire or for health. Our instincts have been dulled by generations of lesser activity, but can be activated in a second by our dinosaur brain. BAM.
Hit the fly? Thou Shalt Not Kill, then then the more contemporary Buddhist version comes to mind, more complicated via the Lama. But a reflex produces a flyswatter BAM, fly to the floor, and then the words of Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche: "The person inflicting the death is sowing seeds for future suffering on an enormous scale, far greater than that of his victim, and he doesn't even realize it. Surely both the victim and aggressor deserve our compassion."
Sanitation be damned, we must preserve all of life and not be concerned about the microbes. What is it? "What you don't see won't hurt you," and the legacy of ancient teachings might be more important than health? Mrs. Berringer must be in another incarnation by now, but it would have been fascinating to bring the Biblical and Buddhist concerns up in her (largely) health class.
She had a friendly, rollicking kind of Old Testament authority about her, I can't in my wildest dreams imagine a smart ass student suggesting to her and the other students that health might not be on any kind of par with Buddhist morality or the 10 Commandments.
The Buddhist Fly is in the ointment of our civilization and others, millions of past, present and future military warriors and their instigators will be living out the results of their involvements in the killing of others. The kitchen may be for health inspectors, for the squeamish who would dare to compare killings for ideology, empire or for health. Our instincts have been dulled by generations of lesser activity, but can be activated in a second by our dinosaur brain. BAM.
Lane changers
Travelling West on 94 you cross the St. Croix River and proceed through some Minnesota suburbs. As you approach St. Paul you notice a phenomena known as lane changing. Often these are the little Hondas with the wings on the back end of the trunk, sometimes with loud exhaust systems, but not necessarily. These quick change artists drive nearly everything, including old clunkers. The common denominator seems to be personal anxiety or an accelerated desire for progress, and/or perhaps the desire to display driving skill only known otherwise on race car tracks.
Because of the nearly total absence of law enforcement on this highway (except when there has been a collision or other disaster -- perhaps caused by a lane changer) my suspicion is that no one has ever been ticketed or even warned about these crazy patterns run by the "devil cars"; except, perhaps, when the changer has been drunken or on some drug of some kind, or fleeing from the scene of a crime (?) ... not sure.
Now, least you think that I have a bias against this activity, or that I am fearful and can't imagine my considerable time behind the wheel as preparation for the dangers cause by these drivers, that isn't it. I think it is more the futility of it all that gets me concerned; acceleration, dodging around, braking and more dodging, and then waiting behind the cars that the hapless driver has sped up to ... perhaps a traffic jam of earlier lane changers who are now stuck in freeway traffic, forced to cool their lead feet and white knuckles. Hurry up and wait, one of the delicacies of contemporary driving.
Because of the nearly total absence of law enforcement on this highway (except when there has been a collision or other disaster -- perhaps caused by a lane changer) my suspicion is that no one has ever been ticketed or even warned about these crazy patterns run by the "devil cars"; except, perhaps, when the changer has been drunken or on some drug of some kind, or fleeing from the scene of a crime (?) ... not sure.
Now, least you think that I have a bias against this activity, or that I am fearful and can't imagine my considerable time behind the wheel as preparation for the dangers cause by these drivers, that isn't it. I think it is more the futility of it all that gets me concerned; acceleration, dodging around, braking and more dodging, and then waiting behind the cars that the hapless driver has sped up to ... perhaps a traffic jam of earlier lane changers who are now stuck in freeway traffic, forced to cool their lead feet and white knuckles. Hurry up and wait, one of the delicacies of contemporary driving.
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