noxious

On first hearing of the scandal over a major German automotive manufacturer falsifying emissions trials to make their fleet of diesel vehicles appear cleaner than they were, I was naturally disappointed but I thought it was little more than the third installment of a series of bidden character-assassinations of German institutions of late.

Drawing sparse attention off the Autobahn, first a German driving club, which provides roadside assistance, was discovered to have auctioned off its accolades and awards for the most roadworthy cars to the highest bidder. Next, there was the FIFA football corruption case—which struck me as another rather open-secret that although it had certainly outlived it’s tolerability probably came to light through zealotry rather than necessity—the collapse of something corrupt and rotten and distractions from more serious affairs. Some people fall on their swords with a flair for the dramatic and others simply trip. I felt the same way about this latest sensation until, courtesy of Super Punch, I learnt that the amount of greenwashing, the phantom sustainability and good-stewardship could be measured in enormous terms, equated with the gross annual contribution of whole countries to air pollution and greenhouse gases.

5x5

sword and sandal: jazzy Italian cinematic score to enjoy

cogwheel: insects had evolved gears long before humans discovered mechanical advantage

rubbing elbows: any and every New Yorker cartoon wants you to join them on LinkedIn

potus: obscure, offensive 1967 “Super President” cartoon pilot

pig-pen: each human has a distinctive cloud of germs that shadows us

primary packaging

Via the ineffably fascinating Mental Floss comes the innovative news that a design company in the UK is poised to revolutionise the way people transport, store and imbibe their beverages.
Called the Ooho, liquid is stored in a transparent membrane made mostly of algæ, completely biodegradable and even edible. Now one can stay hydrated like the astronauts that get to chase down floating blobs of water. Sloshing sacks that resemble silicone implants may not immediately strike the market as the intuitive alternative but, like wine skins, the small portions could be bundled to be delivered in larger containers and the idea confronts one immediately with unadulterated sustainability, using completely natural substances and forgoing the plastic bottle altogether.

choose your poison or balance of trade

Not terribly keen on Western goods and for the most part self-sufficient, for European naval powers—especially the British with their particular weakness for Asian luxuries and tea—Imperial China from the early nineteenth century became known as the Silver Bone Yard. This comparison to a gilded grave was employed as the only enticement for the Chinese—the only reserve-currency that they’d accept, not wanting truck with pelts, flagons of beer, bales of wool, missionaries or whatever else was a typical European export at the time which was not derivative of what the Chinese culture had already perfected, like gunpowder and the printed word—was silver dollars minted from bouillon from the colonies in North and South America.
The discovery of New World silver had initially glutted the market and the commodity temporarily lost some of its shine. The Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch and British were willing to part with huge sums of specie in exchange for keeping up the trade in tea, silk and porcelain. As more and more silver went into China and none came out, however, a market-correction was due and again prices rose and the demand for precious metal grew, especially with wars to finance at home. In order to reverse the outflows of hard currency, merchants (with support of Parliament) plied the Chinese market with opium culled from poppy fields in Turkey and British-held India—which was an acceptable swap for a spot of tea, in lieu of coinage. Although used recreationally and for medicinal purposes—reintroduced to Western medicine as laudanum—use of opium as a war with drugs does strike me as rather unique, to flood one market to secure cheaper access to another, ostensibly equally habit-forming and ritualised item. Faced with a growing drug problem and traders flagrantly overstepping the bounds that had been proscribed for them, China capitulated (and the degree to which China was compromised is a matter of debate) by expanding access to British merchants that extended beyond a few select entrepôts and granting leases in perpetuity to foreign traders. Though of strategic importance and to modern eyes a serious territorial incursion, China had a standing practise of ceding land in the name of peace-keeping and appeasement, and in addition to the special administrative areas of Hong Kong (UK) and Macau (Portugal)—there was also Tsingtau (Prussia), Tianjin (Italy), Shanghai (Japan) and Shantou (jointly controlled by the English, French and Americans).