Let's All Go Medieval
That voice!
All a'quiver with the dread of self-knowledge that it is confabulating a
story, much like the "money" that his Open Market Committee spins out
of the increasingly carbonized air. His words fill the vacuum of the
collectively blank American mind, where hopes and dreams spin like
debris in an Oklahoma twister, only to fall incoherently on a landscape
of man-made ruins. If Federal Reserve chairman Ben Bernanke were hooked
up to a polygraph machine when he made a public statement -- such as
last Wednesday's testimony before congress -- I bet the output graph
would look something like a seismic record of the 9.0 Fukushima
megathrust, all fretful spikes and dips.
When historians
of the future ponder our fate around their campfires, they will marvel
that this society invited such a temporizing little nerd to act as its
Oracle-in-Chief... that he made periodic visits to sit before the
poobahs of the land, and issued prophesies that nobody could really
understand -- and that the fate of the people in this land hung on his
muttered ambiguities. Let's face it: people need oracles when they don't
know what the fuck is going on.
What's going on is as
follows: America's central bank is trying to compensate for a
floundering economy that will never return to its prior state. The
economy is floundering because its scale and mode of operation are no
longer consistent with what reality offers in the way of available
resources at the right price, especially oil. So, rather than change the
scale and mode of operations in this economy -- that is, do things
differently -- we try to keep doing things the same by flushing more
"money" into the system, as though it were a captive beast receiving
nutriment.
One problem with that is that the "money" is
no longer money. That is, it's not really an effective store of value,
or pricing reference. It remains for the moment a medium of exchange,
but the persons exchanging it grow suspicious of what this "money"
purports to represent. Does it stand for promises of future repayment?
Hmmmm. Those promises are looking sketchy lately, especially since this
is an economy that does not generate enough new real wealth to make the
interest payments, let alone manage to pay back the principal. Is it a
claim on future work? Some are afraid that the future work deliverable
will be less than they expect. Whatever else it is, does it find respect
in other societies where different money is used?
These
questions are making a lot of people nervous these days. Of course, a
time will come when all matters concerning this particular incarnation
of money will be seen as strictly ceremonial. Ben Bernanke, we will
understand, was not stating facts before congress but rather singing a
song, or rather chanting in a low, repetitive, tedious way in the primal
manner of a frightened person trying to comfort himself with reassuring
sound -- that is, prayer. You'd be surprised how well that goes over in
a place like congress, which is stuffed with prayerful characters,
people who exist in a religious delirium. These are not the people who
are nervous, by the way. The nervous tend to be more secular, and
inhabit the margins of life where unconventional thinking thrives
weedlike at a remove from all the mental toxicity at the center.
These nervous ones are looking ever more closely these days at the
distant nation of Japan, where an interesting scenario is playing out:
the last days of a giant industrial-technocratic economy. The story
there is actually pretty simple if you peel away the quasi-metaphysical
bullshit it comes wrapped in these days from astrologasters like John
Mauldin and Paul Krugman, viz. Japan has no fossil fuel resources. Zip.
You can't run their kind of economy without the stuff. And they can't.
Japan is crapping out, as they say in Las Vegas. Tilt! Game over. As
this happens, Japan issues a lot of distracting financial noise that
involves evermore "creation" of their own "money," and the knock-on
effects of that, but it's all just noise. Japan's only good choice is to
go medieval, that is, to give up on the rather hopeless 150-year-long
project of being an industrial-technocratic modern super-state, and go
back to being an island of a beautiful artistic hand-made culture. I
call that "going medieval," though you could quibble as to whether
that's the best word for it, since I'm not talking about cathedrals or
crusades.
One of Japan's other choices is to "go
mad-dog," something they actually tried back in the mid-20th century. It
didn't work out too well then. The Japanese leadership is making noises
about "re-arming," and a nice state of conflict is already simmering
between them and their age old rivals-victims next door in China, a
country that has lately enjoyed the upper hand in the industrial-techno
racket (though it will be faced with the same choices as Japan not too
many years hence). Do the Japanese start another world war on their side
of the planet? Let's hope not. Let's hope they lay down their robotics
and their nuclear reactors gently and go back to making netsuke. Just
give it up and do things differently -- after all, that's what all the
human beings on the planet have to do now.
For what it's
worth, Japan's stock market has tanked a hearty 14 percent in the past
five days, if that means anything, and I'm not sure it does considering
the aforesaid "noise," but there you have it. Our own stock markets are
mercifully closed this holiday, having given American worriers an extra
day of anxious reflection on the state of things out there. My own
opinion is that we're all going medieval sooner rather than later and
the big remaining question is how much of a mess we'll make on the
journey to it.
Also, personally, I don't like these
manufactured holidays when the landscape is cluttered with morons
enjoying motorsports. I'll be working today, and grateful when it blows
over.