Why douse fields with pesticides if the bugs we kill are more nutritious than the crops they eat?
Signature question of the Let’s Eat Insect movement, justified by facts, rendered difficult by western culture. Rest of the story in today’s NYTimes.
I’ve been banking at SG for over 30 years and unlike many of the commentors I’ve been reading on various sites, I don’t have much to complain about. But then, I deal with my friendly, local branch where they offer me a café whenever I come in to talk serious business (which admittedly, is quite close to never. But it’s happened a few times.).
But like everybody else on the planet, I don’t really believe what we’re hearing about the Jérôme Kerviel/Société Générale affair. At a primary level, there is sufficient bullshit in the way the French conduct business normally, that suspicion is a reasonable response to anything. I realize that this sounds trite, that people everywhere are suspicious of everyone who operate in the Halls of Power, but, hey, France has elites like no other, and as any mother knows, elites will be elites. It will be fun to see how this all plays out in the coming weeks.
One of the things I’m curious about is: if I understand correctly, JKerviel’s trading position was positive or close to it, up to the weekend before when things hit the fan.
The losses occurred subsequently, on the first 3 days of the week of january 21-5, when SG’s boss, Daniel Bouton panicked and unwound the position into (malheur!) the worst three market days of the last several years. It was this panic sale that concretized the huge losses.
I imagine this selling was motivated by the moral values (corporate responsibility, dread, shame, etcetc) of SGs top management. Because this is France, transparency was never an option. Resolution had to happen secretly. But did it have to happen under the sign of total panic?
Conversely, what would have happened if the markets were going up those three days instead of tanking? The shame would have been the same. The elitist secrecy also. So, would we have ever learned about the ’scandal’ of a rogue trader being responsable for 20 billion euros of illicit gains by the SG? I guess we would have, the day that SG announced record earnings for a bank of over 20 billion.
Just came across this lovely explanation and graphical representation of what happens in the seconds after a new blog post is published on Wired. There’s something scary about this, but the interface design is quite nice.
For those interested in this sort of thing, here is a complete list of minimum wages in all countries in Europe. Some days, you just need to know this sort of thing, especially as the world economy melts down.
From a recent article on the Oil Drum on using superkites to propel ocean freighters, I learned (always read the comments!) that the Emma Maerks is the world’s largest cargo ship. You can see what it looks like here.
In a recent voyage, it left China, destination Europe, with a load of 11,000 20ft containers full of:
Martini glasses, sports bags, shower gel, shampoo and bath foam, pinball machines, toothpicks, chopsticks, electric guitars, tool boxes, drum kits, lamp shades, silver and wooden photo frames, wooden trouser hangers, candles, books, laptop computers, singing and dancing gorilla toys, poker tables, bingo sets, lunchboxes, cuddly toys, make-up, dolls, toy motorcycles, christmas decorations, sofas, puzzles, televisions, frozen mussles, computer parts, CD players, fax machines, key rings, jam, noodles, biscuits, pumpkins (frozen), more than 1000 bales of carpet, 117 boxes of girls jeans, 40 boxes of brass, 2000 pairs of mens shoes, 9000 pairs of trainers, three boxes of spectacle frames and more than 1500 frozen cooked chickens.
On the return trip to China it loaded up with:
Plastic scrap, waste paper and card, waste electronic components, repairable electrical goods and scap metal.
If I knew what geo-economic tea leaves looked like or how to read them, I’m sure I would know what this all means. Meanwhile, I just have to rely on hunches.
I just came across this paragraph from the Downsize DC organization that should well become a mantra for well-being in the world we live in. It is meant to be sent to people who represent us politically, and since this is the way I’ve felt for the last 20 years, it just has to be true:
I am not afraid of terrorism, and I want you to stop being afraid on my behalf. Please start scaling back the official government war on terror. Please replace it with a smaller, more focused anti-terrorist police effort in keeping with the rule of law. Please stop overreacting. I understand that it will not be possible to stop all terrorist acts. I accept that. I am not afraid.
Thanks to Bruce Schneier for this.
If I were a modern western industrial nation with a profound desire to decrease my CO2 emissions, I wonder if the most efficient way of doing so wouldn’t be by outsourcing my polluting, energivorous manufacturing to some large Asian powerhouse country.
There would be multiple benefits to such a strategy:
Wow! Anyone else think that this a great geopolitical approach to attacking climate change?
Below is a photo of the American women’s bridge team after they won the Venice Cup, a world-class bridge event, recently held in Shanghai. Please note the little hand-printed sign held by one of the team members.
This sign is causing all sorts of trouble back in the US of A, where criticism of The Leader is not tolerated. The whole sad, sad story is here.
From the Carbon Monitoring for Action (Carma) website, the list of worst polluting countries by their power stations (in tons of CO2):
(Source: Carma/CGD)
A South African power company has been using this billboard to educate citizens about the brave new world we are now living in. Fortunately, here in France we don’t have to worry about this sort of thing. At least that’s what friends tell me.
How does Cuba, do Cubans, tolerate the presence of the US military base in Guantanamo?
The question isn’t directed to the symbolism that Guantanamo has taken on throughout the world in the last 5 years, which has to make having the place on the end of one’s island being the approximate equivalent to finding a really huge pile of dog turds in one’s prize flower beds just as the garden committee comes for a photo shoot.
No, my question is the more primitive one, not geo-political, but just human — what could the reaction possibly be from a country and its people, who for 50 years have:
Yeah, I wonder what Cuba thinks every morning on waking up, finding this gonad-heavy, frisbee-infested military base belonging to a country that hates it and is only there because of some sort of great-grandfather clause? It must be very humiliating. It must be infuriating.
I bet they even hate us for our freedom.
Anyway, after wondering about this all these years, there was a certain satisfaction this morning on reading a statement on the Reuters website by Ecuadorean President Rafael Correa saying that he would only renew America’s lease on its air base on Ecuador’s Pacific coast, if America would allow Ecuador to install a similar base near Miami, Florida. In his own words:
We’ll renew the base on one condition: that they let us put a base in Miami — an Ecuadorean base. If there’s no problem having foreign soldiers on a country’s soil, surely they’ll let us have an Ecuadorean base in the United States.
Rafael Correa may not be a nice person, nor a good leader, I don’t know, but it is reassuring to hear a country’s leader say things out loud that ring true. The full article is here.
It has just occurred to me that the word ’start-up’, as it refers to a couple of geeks in a garage with an idea, so iconic of the froth years of the internet, creator of such success and so many failures, is such a powerful myth in France.
Here in France, it has become the word used to fill the unfortunate void created when the word ‘entrepreneur’, which was coined right here many years ago, was quickly abandoned by frenchpersonnes because of its irrelevance to anything that could ever actually happen under the French economic rulebook.
What fascinates about all this is that although frenchpersonnes talk, rather wistfully, about ’start-ups’ all the time, most of them are actually thinking to themselves, ‘up-starts’.
So they got the syllables right but just reversed them. Faux amis, indeed.
There’s an expression in the French language, ‘faux amis’, that sounds much better than the english equivalent, ‘false friends’ or as the philologists like to say, ‘false cognates’.
It refers to words that mean one thing in French and something completely different in English. An example is ‘chair’, which you can sit on in English, but is flayed off your body by packs of rabid dogs in French, ie, ‘flesh’.
Another is ‘bras’, which is short for brassieres in English, but is a simple ‘arm’ in French. Interestingly, a bra in French is a ’soutien-gorge’ (’throat support’) and the word ‘brassiere’ which looks and sounds French, doesn’t even exist, although ‘brazier’ does exist and it means a BBQ pit. So go figure.
One of the most extraordinary faux amis, mainly because it is so archly, evilly faux, is the word ‘liberal’.
In America, a liberal is a creature who would like to help poor people, raise spending on infrastructure and healthcare, and sacrifice a little something personal to bring peace to the world and mitigate climate change. One American online dictionarary defines her as ‘favoring proposals for reform, open to new ideas for progress, and tolerant of the ideas and behavior of others; broad-minded.’ Although this might sound Christ-like, in truth, an American liberal is a leftie.
In Europe (which France is part of) and the Rest of World, a liberal is one who believes in free markets and trade, and thinks that there’s nothing wrong in making a decent (or better) living. A European liberal is a rightie.
In France, which is a very peculiar subset of Europe, the definition of a liberal has been enhanced to the point where a new name had to coined, ‘le néo-libérale’. A neo-liberal is someone who believes in free markets and trade, who thinks that there’s nothing wrong in making money (blahblah), but really only thinks about exploiting workers and children, eats babies for breakfast, and is most assuredly a member of a sinister, secret cabal hellbent on destroying French culture. There is something inherently Anglo-Saxon about neo-liberalism and that adds to the frenzy.
That is why François Fillon’s message to a major ruling party political conference yesterday, as reported by Le Monde, is so remarkable. M. Fillon, prime minister of President Sarkozy’s France came out and said:
N’AYEZ AUCUNE HONTE À ÊTRE LIBÉRAUX !
Do not be ashamed to be liberals!, he said to a roomful of cheering Frenchpersonnes. Go forth and work long hours! Take risks! Innovate!
I am expecting the Rush Limbaugh types of Old Europe, who in France are not neo-fascist jackboots but rather tired old elephants of the Old Left, to pull out their hair in protest, yell Scandal. This has never been seen in France.
Faux amis, indeed! Sometimes false friends are better then false enemies.
Back in the late 80’s, early 90’s, when I was living happily ever after in Newport RI, US of A, I published a newsletter on my faithful MacPlus called the New Hydronics News. The NHN dealt with America’s appalling approach to energy use in the very specific domain of residential and commercial confort control, aka HVAC, aka heating/cooling systems.
I had 2 reasonable motivations for creating that monthly journal. One was that I was considered by some to be the ‘guru of heating in America’, and sustaining that honorific required that I publish (to better perish later). The other was that I was considered by most everyone else living in the amber waves of grain to be the devil incarnate, a greenie pinko commie, and thus, un-American in every way. Every month for 4 years, I challenged the heating community for its in-your-face, narcissistic profligacy that so characterized the US of A during the Reagan/Bush I years (and shows few signs of winding down at present), until one day, some guys in a pickup truck yelled out out me, “Hey pinko, if you don’t like it here, why don’t you move to, uh, mmm… France!” Which I think is what I did.
I remember in one issue of NHN, around the time of GBush I’s war on Iraq, I quoted Meyer, Travis McGee’s best friend in John MacDonald’s wonderful series of thrillers, when he said something like
The US has 6% of the world’s population and uses 30% of the world’s oil, plywood, white paint, peanut butter, rubber bands and suntan lotion. We want the rest of the world to love us, to emulate us. What happens if the wish comes true? Will 100% of the world’s population need 500% of the ressources we Americans use now? Has anyone besides me thought this through?
This he said in 1965 or thereabouts. When I quoted this 25 years later, the message was still as futile amongst the grass-roots of l’Amérique profonde.
Fast forward almost 20 years and no one outside the US of A doubts the wisdom of these words (even Australia is coming around). Incredibly, within the States, there are still so many people who can’t get their head around all this. Twenty years ago, GBush I famously said as he cheerleaded Iraq war I: ‘the American lifestyle is not on the table’.
With this as backdrop, and as we speed into the peak-oil era, where the only real comfort is the deeply human thought that catastrophe is only catastrophe if I’m still alive to see it, I want to start writing again about living in the world as though these things really matter.
I’ll conclude this first post with a citation from Berkeley Professor Tad Patzek, who writes about biofuel issues (thank you Oil Drum). He analyzes how much of the earth’s surface would be required to generate the energy requirements to drive a car 23000 km (15000 miles) a year with diverse energy options presently being considered by non-deniers.
1 m2 of medium-quality oil fields needs 620 m2 of corn fields to replace gasoline with corn ethanol and pay for the free energy costs of the ethanol production. [Putting this in perspective…], one can drive our example car for one year from ~30 m2 of oil fields, 90 m2 of photovoltaic cells, 1100 m2 of wind turbines, and ~18000 m2 of corn fields.
Has anyone thought this through?
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I’ve just learned that there is another person on this planet with the name Denny Adelman. I don’t understand how this can be possible, but since I found his name on the internet, he must be real.
He sits on the architectural commission of a small suburb of Dallas TX USA and approves the construction of picket fences around lawns, swimming pools, and since he is in TX, just maybe between country borders, around immigrant campments, or to hide secret extraterrestrial vehicles that are carefully hoarded by secret government agencies, too.
Of course, I don’t really know what he’s like. Does he have a wife and kids? An SUV? Does he play golf with Carl Rove? Some questions will never find answers. Others are just as well without. I’ll let this one sleep.
Addenda: No Sleep for the Wary Department…
Googled myself for the first time (it’s not that I’m less vain than you are, just that the idea never occurred to me) and discovered that there are several Denny Adelmans wondering about the US of A. Bet I’m the only one in France, though.
In the months that have intervened since I wrote about the horrors of getting ADSL in France, the stories just keep coming.
M., a Brit expat lost all his phone service for 4 months when he signed up (on my advice…shudder) to Free, the second largest broadband provider in France. For the first few weeks he kept calling Free who said it was the fault of France Telecom, then calling France Telecom who explained that it was most certainly the fault of Free. These infructuous ’support’ calls cost 96€.
After a few weeks of such merde de taureau, one learns to live without a telephone because the alternatives are all serious felonies, even here in France. Rest of story: several months later, M. happened to walk by a France Telecom sales office, which are generally located in lovely historic districts of midieval cities, right next to the MacDonalds. He thought, ‘What the hell’, walked in, exposed his tale of woe to a friendly salepersonne, who called up a webpage, grumbled ‘hmmm’, clicked a box, and then said to my friend, ‘Hmmm. Go home, see if your line works now’. And it did.
Another M. American this time, had her Freebox (Free’s ADSL modem that is supplied Free with each subscription), burn out during a lightening storm. A 3€ call to Free’s hotline helped determine that the modem was indeed fried and that Free would send out a replacement right away, but it would cost 190€. Rather shameful considering that Freeboxes can be bought at any openmarket in Taiwan for about 6¢/piece, but hey, that’s global capitalism for you. M. said ‘Send it on’. She also called me.
I went by a few days later with a spare Netgear modem that we have for cases such as these, tried it on M.’s line and it worked (I am skipping a few steps here for brevity). I suggested that she would be better off keeping the Netgear and that she tell Free to shove it. It was already 10 days since Free had promised a Freebox right away.
The subsequent multi-€ call to Free support revealed one of the least surprising surprises that can occur in daily french life: Free hadn’t any record of an ADSL modem for M. If I hadn’t showed up with the Netgear, M. would still be waiting. To their credit, the first Free support personne put M. on hold while he ‘did research’. After about 4€ of phone time he came back online, confirming that no one anywhere in their support centers in India, Morocco, Poland, or Paris had a trace of a request for a new modem. Then asked rather politely, “Is there anythng else I can do for you today?”
If customer service in France only sucked in the ADSL sector, it would be petty to criticize such an old venerable culture with great health care and really inexpensive wine. After all, we all choose to come here as a lifestyle choice (except me, I was kidnapped and woke up in a vineyard at dawn in December), so we have to assume the consequences.
But there’s more to the story of customer service. Stay tuned.
Technorati Tags: ADSL, customer service in France
Last night, over dinner and just the right amount of wine, I listened to a story by an 18-year-old Swiss girl visiting Albi for the summer who had not drunk any wine at all.
Last year, she told us, I spent 2 months with an American family in Colorado. I went to school, to fast-food restaurants, to the mall, to the mountains.
A well-rounded teenage summer, american-style.
But what marked me the most, however, was an experience that happened to someone else, a Swiss school friend of mine who had participated in the same exchange program as I had, but who found a spot in Texas. One day, my friend was in class, where she had been well-received by all. The teacher had turned on the television, and everyone was watching a newsreader tell greater Houston about the latest casualties in the Iraq war.
First mentioned were the number of American war casualties. The class was horrified, tears welled up, there was silence. Then the newsreader mentioned how many Iraqis had been killed in a horrendous marketplace suicide bombing. The class was transformed, cheering, applauding, punching the air.
What can I add to this? I know this young girl was telling the truth and I can’t imagine that her friend was making this up. It is like discovering that your chums’ bodies are inhabited by malefic extraterrestrial parasites. Are wide swaths of the USA (or maybe just Texas) fucked up beyond all repair? What is is the effect of such an event on a young sane mind, eager and excited about discovering America?
Good grief.
Yes. Yesterday. Sixty. Happy birthday to me!
And instead of doing nothing about it, did quite a something and it worked out.
2 months ago, in one of those rare instances of thinking ahead, I had tried to reserve a table for my birthday meal at Michel Bras’ restaurant up in the hills of Aubrac 2 hours north of Albi. It’s a place renowned for its sumptuous (but paradoxically, contemporary) setting, sumptuous food rooted deeply in the notion of terroir, and its 3 Michelin stars. A place to go before you die.
At the time, I was told that they were full up for lunch. (Damn!) I was told that I could be on the waiting list. (Well, umm, OK). Last week, I received a call from the resto, telling me that a table was mine. (Youpee!)
With 3 friends, Robin, Meredith, and Ann, we trundled up to Aubrac, heart of the Aveyron profonde. A tiny sign, easily missed, points to the path that leads up to the hilltop restaurant. The place is an interesting glass, stone and slate complex that looks out over the valley. Everything, including the valley itself, is lush and austere. It’s a combination that works.
We were greeted cordially then seated in a circular salon d’apéro where we were meant to settle down, have a drink, get happy, look at the menus, look out the glass wall that made up 100% of the large room, make serious decisions about what we were going to eat. Certain of the menus (called ‘carte fixe’ in frenglish, I believe) could only be ordered if everyone at the table ordered that particular menu. We all ordered the “Découverte & Nature” menu.
We were then ushered into the dining room, which was lush and modern. Comfortable. Muted. Another window wall, more fields of grass and valleys. It felt to me like no effort had been spared to swaddle the senses, put them, put oneself, into a sublime state of aisance, a necessary preamble to the meal we were about to have.
Then did the wonders commence. I didn’t take notes (hahaha! Does anyone take notes at a meal like this?) and my memory capacity is that of a 60 year-old, but here’s what I remember:
PS: Robin and Meredith gave me a birthday card that said, “A friend is someone who likes you even though they know you”. Which proves, at the very least, that they know me.
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France is on a roll. Elections promise much-needed movement, then there’s this, seen in the Times Online:
French exiles unhappy with NHS
They like the way the economy is run in Britain, believe there are more professional opportunities here and that there is a better spirit of enterprise, but French citizens living in Britain believe that the French health system, the quality of life there and their schools are better than over here.
Those are the findings of a GfK NOP study of more than 1,000 French people living in Britain who voted in the second round of the presidential election on Sunday.
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A total of 79 per cent of all respondents had a preference for the British way of running the economy. But there was a thumbs-down for the NHS. Eighty-nine per cent thought the French system was preferable to Britain’s, and 67 per cent thought that the quality of life was better in France. French schools were favoured by 62 per cent, but the British university system came out on top, 43 per cent to 40 per cent.
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