RIF-raff or circumlocution office

Infernal engines (Höllen-machine) that are allowed to age gracefully, the surplus stuff of the commissariat, into a complex and convoluted bureaucracy, have a strong sense of self-preservation. This is especially apparent during the once-a-decade exercise of fleecing the US military through what’s called Reduction in Force (RIF), when the community, courtiers and panderers put to test all mandatory trainings and contingencies and the full encumberment of the offices’ arsenal of red-tape. This sort of impossible dragnet, a Gordian knot, is rather clever, since it justifies ones job, sticking to protocol and procedure and knowing how to unlace the mess with proper ceremony.

The cost savings measures, I think, are not the most sincere—even counting backwards from nonsense, too much seems ventured for naught: maintaining a standing army is woefully expensive and discipline is threatened with institutionalization; old fronts and occupations ought to be remembered in perspective, honouring peace and maturing partnerships, but neither by inventing new threats nor propping up an failing network that used to connect all points on the map, a compliment to Church hierarchy and ambassadorial missions; slicing the budget in favour of the defense-contractors (another form of insincerity) and withholding that military mother-love that makes careers but also breeds dependency and the sense of entitlement that’s reflected by the bureaucrats.

A soldier dismissed or a career official made redundant have, in many areas, had their ways paved and might find it difficult to operate outside that framework. I am sure that any and every workplace in environment has the potential for attracting and retaining individuals with certain core-competencies and can be an expensive terror all around—I just find it a little frightening that my laudable organization won’t always be so concentrated and quarantined in an archane little corner of Germany and those particular talents are exploding out into the world. Special powers, I think, and prowess don’t get diluted once dispersed, and instead there’s more than enough personality to share. It would be ashamed, still, to break up the band—the routine and the selectivity, gossip, problems kept hidden and very vocal tattling and the suspension of disbelief (Aussetzen der Zweifel). Most days, work is like an immense Rube Goldberg contraption but the gears hit a snag in the same spots every time, but sometimes it does work, happily, and the chain-reaction comes to its conclusion.

stem cells

The Miracle Sticks (the twisted and knotty willow branches) from Easter lasted a good few days after bursting into colour. Eventually, they did fade and wilt but I noticed that they had developed quite an extensive root system in the vase full of water—funny non-differentiated little roots that came directly out of the stem, like the bristles of an onion. I planted them in a big pot and tried to keep the barest green shoots left to the sticks alive with a lot of water. One germ of a twig looked promising but I thought the rest were dead, and I never expected them to regenerate like they have and grow into proper trees. I guess miraculous things carry on.

injunction

Hearing speculation about the polls in Greece ahead of the Sunday evening elections, a dead-heat and a photo-finish most held, I was worried that the EU would have its Bush v. Gore moment. That time was more than a moment, rather an epoch that spanned from days after the disputed election in November 2000 until at least January 2009, and it is yet to determined if it’s really over. The party styled the fiscal conservatives have a slight edge over the liberals, and the victors are positioned to build a coalition among the among parliamentarians from minority parties, committed to retaining the common-currency and remediating the Greek economy by adhering to the conditions and reforms of economic assistance package.

The winning party, however, has no mandate from the people and no basis to strengthen its claim that enduring all the punishment won’t just be in vain but also beneficial. The liberals were no understudy to chaos, and while their round rejection of the austerity and targets twain to keeping the euro in favour of social justice and support has sensible and popular appeal, they are not presently able to offer plans on what the inheritors of the new drachma should do the next morning. Voters’ appeal could still turn and the choices as portrayed do not seem to offer healthy alternatives. It seems that a lot of oaths and deeds have already been sunk and are sinking and buoyed on the not on hopes or politics nor even on the mechanics of peace and prosperity, but the neediness of advanced economies desperate for attention. Greed, I guess, steals away too the care and concern touching on bigger questions and difficulties and holds decision in suspense.

de re coquinaria

I was looking through a cookbook that we found the other day, one that reached all the way back to the kitchen and cuisine of 1898, and noticed that organizationally and instruction-wise, like other older volumes of recipes that we have, there’s a verse-like brevity to them, almost like a haiku and something self-contained, with mostly no measurements, cooking times and temperatures. If you have to ask, then you are obliviously are not a good homemaker and Hausfrau. There are some interesting basic meals and descriptions of sauces that would be interesting to try to recreate, and it was worth noting how one can rate the familiar and the exotic food of the time, given the attention to detail and exacting instructions for preparation: one dish that’s described as italienisch was steamed rice with green peas and was called “Risi-Pisi.” I cannot imagine a good bürgerlichen family of the turn of the century asking for such a thing by name from far away Italy.  It will be fun to experiment and see what other changes in tone and method come up.

happy fathers' day

Here is a candid gathering of famous and infamous dads. Don't forget to tell yours how special he is and Happy Fathers' Day!

panhandlers and paupers

I am not quite sure what to call the growing and morbid fascination with ruin and distress on exhibition, and thankfully no one has tried to apply the label of poverty porn universally because there are significant differences in degree and dialogue. Of course, things can slide into neglect and disrepair quickly and destitution can be an equalizing force, but it does not do to compare the Sword of Damocles hanging over Greece and Europe with the Rustbelt of the United States and explicit profiles of crumbling and de-peopled urban centres. Detroit is a pinup girl.

The so-called poster children of the eurozone, however, are not positioned to relinquish hope, sovereignty, identity or anything else and will continue to engage the union and their people in setting this framework.

The euro is not in danger because of debate or controls more stringent and exacting than were originally agreed to (though perhaps not abided by) but is rather reinforced by vocal and public investigation and scrutiny. Trying to force American-style solutions of throwing money at problems, hollowing out social support programs and allowing the banks and markets to dictate to government and the real economy is obliviously a threat, even though the crisis stems from a uniquely American export, greatly exacerbated by American-style over-exuberance and over-exposure. Budgets and expenditures, though crises can be enlightening for systemic problems, could have continued at a parallel pace if it was not for one costly mistake, and with attention and care can be realigned and made stronger. The peep-show comes in the form of rallies, strikes and street protests and threats to monuments, artefacts and infrastructure rather than the abject desolation, that many like to ogle over but that’s apparently all talked-out.