BLOG 160: The fairy

“All I know is that I've ruled out wearing fairy wings. When I was nine I wanted fairy wings .... now I realise that's not cool anymore.” Isla Fisher

When I was little I wanted to be a fairy. Not because of the standard little girl wishes for pretty dresses and wings (though I did wear them) ...but because I really wanted to go about granting wishes. Wish fulfilment was very important to me when I was a little girl.

My favourite Aunty when I was small was my Dad’s sister who lived in the USA. I doubt if my selection process was sound... [as a more discerning adult I switched allegiance in a heartbeat to another Aunt (who was in fact my Dad’s cousin) based solely on the content of that Aunts character]... but as a child it was my American Aunt who was my favourite. This was purely because she could grant my wishes... starting with a great big panda bear that was five times my size. She was my good fairy and I wanted to be just like her. Like I said I got older and discovered that there are more important things than indulging a little girl with huge and impractical toys in lieu of spending time. My Dad’s cousin proved always available with her time so she rapidly became Aunty no 1. As I got older, I drifted away from American Aunt and her fairy like powers of granting wishes. I am ashamed to say that I have not had much to do with my fairy aunty for over a decade and a half. I won’t be too hard on myself...we all outgrow our childhood fancies.

Or do we?

Wish fulfilment does seem almost a right when you are a child, but as an adult we accept that most wishes are just dreams...pie in the sky. We accept that just because you want it and think you deserve it doesn't mean to say you will get it. However this rationale goes right out the window in just one area of our lives. In this one area we feel that if we can purchase the magic ticket...then all our wishes can, will and must be granted.

There is no place where wish fulfilment is higher on the menu than in the world of holidays. We all feel a sense of entitlement to this when we pack our bags and take a break. We all believe that the purchase of a ticket to somewhere else, the securing of a bed somewhere else, the very act of being somewhere else entitles us to happiness, and good healthy doses of food, laughter, sleep, and sex. When we set off on our holidays the sense of anticipation is almost overwhelming... we are about to have our wishes fulfilled.

There is an element of that childhood belief in good fairies granting wishes when one engages the holiday industry to make our dreams a reality.

So it was no surprise to many that in various guises, my working life has been linked to the holiday industry. I’ve written about places that aren’t home, I’ve packaged places that aren’t home, I’ve marketed places that aren’t home and I’ve sold places that aren’t home. I’ve dealt with millions of peoples wish lists and fed and sated their desires to be somewhere else so that they can get their entitlement to wish fulfilment.

I got to be a good fairy.

It's not entirely selfless. The perks of being this kind of fairy aren’t too shabby. You get to travel to the sorts of places where wishes may be fulfilled, you get to sleep in accommodations that are all about wish fulfilment and if you are a very good fairy (as I was) some nice airlines and cruise ships let you occupy the cabins where wish fulfilment is the order of the day.

So it comes as a great surprise to many that I hung up my good fairy costume some time ago and have no intention of putting it back on. I'm often asked how on earth I could turn my back on such a glamourous way to earn a living.

I can only answer that for me flitting about being this kind of fairy turned out to remind me of my American Aunt... of little substance when the chips were down. Like the great big panda she bought me, everything was a pale facsmile of granting wishes. All I are really did was simply furnish a path to purchasing a ticket to and a bed at somewhere else.

You may be happy on holiday, you may have good food, you may laugh and sleep, you may even have sex... but none of those things are because you have a magic ticket... none of those things are because the good fairy granted your wishes for you. You take you with you and you reap only what you sow, home or abroad. You see, no matter how it feels, there really is no entitlement to having your wishes granted by taking a holiday.

I cannot count the amount of miles around this blue planet of ours I’ve travelled. I have experienced places, people, cultures, foods and beverages that are certainly nothing like home. But there is one constant in all these travels be they to the bright lights, the crashing oceans, the silent deserts, the exhilarating mountains, the lapping lakes, the endless savannahs or the rugged prairies... there is always the same thing on each trip. It’s ME. True it’s me without the structure of home, which I am sure is beneficial on some level of wish fufilment... but I still took me with me and the only thing that really changed when I took these trips... was the scenery. All that really happened was a switch of locations, and even that was a bit of trick.

Ever noticed when you are on vacation how the place looks completely different when you arrived to how it looks on day 3? How it stops looking like a fantasy after a couple of days, how your vision retracts and it all starts to be just a little familiar? Well that’s because your expectations have settled, you subconsciously let go of thinking you are entitled to a heightened sense of being and settle down to making the best of it... because after all you are on vacation. That sense of entitlement, the granting of wishes... it was a bit of a self delusion... a fraud if you like.

I’m not knocking the holiday business... I still firmly believe that a change IS as good as a rest. But after more than a couple decades covering the business from all angles, I realised I wasn’t the good fairy after all. Like my flashy American Aunt, my experience of being a good fairy proved not to be about anything substantial. The entitlement, the dreams, wishes and endless possibilities... it all may or may not happen regardless of location.

I made the choice that my life will no longer involve jumping on planes and resetting my watch to local time every few days. It may sound dull, but in reality it is much more pleasurable to have both my feet on terra firma. It amuses me how the perception of glamour is often without substance... and how many things perceived as unexciting are in fact enriching and fun. But that’s dreams versus reality every time, there is usually not much to be gained from glamorous puff beyond appearance.

People often do a sanity check on me when they find out I have left the ‘glamorous’ world of the holiday business. They cannot understand that while heading to exotic countries and taking part in unusual activities is part of the job most of the time you are running things behind the scenes (which usually involves stoking the fires of improbable dreams). BUT when they do understand that part, suddenly the good fairy seems like a woman in a silly frock wearing wings that will never really fly.

So...my childhood wish to be a good fairy has come to an end... but like all tales that include the word fairy there is a happy ending.

Reality is a better place to be than the world of dreams (for a start you don’t have jet lag and fall asleep in your cornflakes!). So it is without regret that this fairy hung up her wings for good.

Though it is a bit of a shame about the good fairy costume going to waste... anyone know when a good fancy dress party is coming up?

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter-http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog


If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto :http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/


Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success.

BLOG 159: The BIG question

“That's why I called it Dangerously In Love. It's basically all of the steps in a relationship from when you first meet a guy to realizing you're interested... All of that” - Beyonce Knowles

When you’re under thirty, flirting and hooking up is a pretty standard operation. No one asks tricky questions it’s kind of a given... you are available, they are available... let’s move to stage one. At that stage in life’s glorious map, it’s all about taking the next step down the road; no one is worried about pot holes, or traffic calming. When you are under thirty and you get chatting to someone who you find attractive and who finds you likewise, it seems daft wasting precious time trying to predict the future, you just get on with making one. It’s all about where your life is GOING... no one is asking where your life has BEEN.

However as life moves on and thirty seems less of a frightening milestone and more of a distant fond memory... everything changes. If you are single at this stage in your life be prepared for THE BIG QUESTION.

Last week I had the good fortune to be sitting outside a City bar with man during a particularly beautiful desent from dusk into sunset. To be honest I had not given this particular man any thought beyond the fact that his parents had saddled with a name like Che (after the revolutionary Che Guevara), which I thought particularly cruel when you hail from Wiltshire (okay it’s West but not as west as Cuba from here!) Anyway, we’d been working together and were pretty wrapped up in the project. Therefore we’d never really noticed each other beyond our functionality to the project. But the project was over, and the team went for beers to celebrate. And suddenly here was Che... out of context. And he looked good. I’m rather pleased to say that the light bulb also went on over Che’s head, so we took our drinks outside the pub.

I’m not a great one for reportage... I prefer a quick sum up and my opinion for paragraphs down the page. (And you wondered why I’m a columnist and NOT a journalist!!!) But for a change, I’m gonna do the reporter thing and give you the whole dialogue. It started so well a bit of almost Hollywoodesque flirting... I thought Nora Ephron herself was secretly scripting us... short punchy statements, unblinking eye contact; meaningful silent pauses where beverages were meaningfully supped. But of course in Jax World... things don’t quite run like a movie.

However, in movie terms, we shall start the scene where it dawns on Che that he is quite attracted to Jax, for whom the same thought had occurred, so they mutually agree to step outside to enjoy the last of the sunshine over The Wren Monument.

Che: Was it true, that story about that bloke texting at all hours?

Jax: Yup! I seem doomed to give men the wrong impression.

Che: do you have loads of men texting you then?

Jax: millions and millions!!!

Che: so... there is no point in me texting you then?

Jax: none... you’d be lost in the queue

Che: is there a way to move to the front of the queue?

Jax; I’ll accept diamonds and furs at my desk... or flattery in a bar...

Che: Can I start with the last one; I might have to work up to the other two?

Jax: Sure... but don’t forget you’re starting on a path where diamonds and furs will be expected

Che: You always make me smile, you are very funny

Jax: Hang on that’s not flattery!

Che: believe me it is... men like witty women

Jax: as mates

Che: not necessarily

Jax: oh really when was the last time you dated a woman who looked like a bulldog chewing a wasp but who made you smile?

Che: I’m about to....

Jax: Confident... vaguely insulting but...confident!

Che: [Smile. Silence. Sip of pint]

Jax: [raised eyebrow. Smile]

Jax: Che?... are you married?

Che: No

Jax: meaningful relationship?

Che: No

Jax: seeing someone casually?

Che: No

Jax: swinger?

Che: [about to laugh] No!!!!

Jax: gay?

Che: [laughing] No!!!

Jax: unnatural relations with damp lettuce, farm yard animals....

Che: for heavens sake woman... what is with the interrogation!

Jax: just trying to establish your status...

Che: you KNOW I’m single Jax, you work with me!

Jax: I’m trying to find the catch

Che: There’s no catch, I just thought something was happening here and it’d be daft what with the project ending not to make plans to keep something happening... are you ALWAYS this suspicious?

Jax: Che... I’ve been single long enough to know that if a good looking man, who is not wanted by Interpol is asking me out, better find out why he’s single before I wake up in a pool of damp lettuce, with a goat and an angry wife in the doorway.

And word for word that is how it went down. But THE BIG QUESTION had to be asked... why was this person still available at a time in his life when most people are settled down. Because really, there has to be a catch. Is someone single after 30 because they messed up or couldn’t get started? It’s not romantic dialogue but it’s a question that serves you well when asked AS EARLY AS POSSIBLE.

Going back to the ridiculously named Che’s attempt to continue his connection with me, I thought (given blog 22) that I should get it in before I even agreed to a first date. The Nora Ephron wittily flirtatious fast moving script went out the window and we buckled down to establishing how the Creative Director’s single status came about. This was followed by my rather simular tale of misadventure.

We were both single late in life and we were both a source of disappointment to our parents on that score. They didn’t ask much. They raised us (on the luxury model that includes university and the subsequent subbing until we found our financial feet) and expected in return that we would find someone, chose them and settle down. It’s what society expects, and it’s a great idea... we’re not designed to be alone and we function best in emotional support units. We start of with a unit to raise us, and then we need to make our own as the one that raised us will expire before we do, and we need that one to nurse us in our old age and bury us like we did with the one we started of with. Of course we fluff it up with romance and style it in our own images but by in large... it’s kind of what society expects.

To be fair, society was set up when life expectancy was pretty short. Even in recent history the vast majority of UK residents were expected to pop their clogs before sixty. (63% of the population according to the 1911 figures in the rather fascinating House of Commons Research Paper 99/111). Health issues aside, for most people it was expected that peoples emotional life kind of followed this model:

• 00-10 childhood

• 11-15 finding yourself

• 15-20 settling down

• 20-30 raising family

• 30-40 middle age

• 40-50 approaching old age

• 50-60 dead

And whether or not you had a long innings or not, whether or not you were rich or poor ...you kind of followed the model. Unless you had mastered the art of looking into the future (and even today we haven’t quite that down) - you didn’t have the luxury of wasting time. LIFE our predecessors said... was SHORT. You just got on with it, no second, third or fourth goes... you just got on with it.

Today of course life expectancy in the UK is about 81. We seem to have managed during that gob-smacking century that was the twentieth, added a startling TWENTY ONE YEARS to our lives. And with a display of logic that worries some and startles many decided that we’d stick those bonus years in the middle to give us more time to do stuff. Our new model is:

• 00-12 childhood

• 13-19 teenage years

• 20-30 finding yourself

• 30-40 settling down/raising a family

• 40-50 second chance of setting down/raising a family

• 50-60 reinventing yourself

• 60-70 second chance to reinvent yourself

• 70-80 omg do have to reinvent myself AGAIN/dead

Well... as with all new models (and face facts, the old model had been running for CENTURIES so it was pretty fine tuned)... new model of how our emotional life should go has hit a major glitch. As a species we are designed to move quickly, rushing about because we are very conscious of our mortality. YUP! that major glitch is that if you give human beings time... they’ll fanny about never actually getting started on the next segment because they have time.

Turtles are fabulous at filling 80+ years because ruminating instinctual to them... they are designed to move slow and take it all in. We are not - as a species we are designed to excel on tight deadlines. We did fine over all on the old system because we just got on with it, life was short then you died. Give us time and we don’t ruminate... we procrastinate!

Which was basically the story that Che and I told each other. We were both stuck in a never ending finding yourself/reinventing yourself cycle that left the whole settling down process in flux. It never seemed like the deadline for settling down was imminent or even permanent, choices were deferred or even if they seemed to be made reneged on. It used to be so easy with a short lifespan to say ‘I’ve made my bed I’ll lie it”. But with the extra 21 years of life the last century gave us... why settle when you have time to start over?

But it does rather suck the romance out of a situation to have to find out why it is someone for whom the first flushes of youth are gone is still at the starting line. The sunset over the Wren Monument was rather wasted as it became established that Che (despite hailing from Wiltshire) had neither a goat nor a fixation on any of various plants of the genus Lactuca. – damp or otherwise. He's ligitamately single! He passed the interview with flying colours.

I left it that he should indeed text details of where we should meet up when he is next in town. However... he did text this morning... asking me did I know that lettuces are a member of the daisy family.

Should I be ALARMED??? !

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter-http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog
If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto :http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/
Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success.

BLOG 158: Looking for England

“But then I came to the conclusion that no, while there may be an immigration problem, it isn't really a serious problem. The really serious problem is assimilation.” Samuel P. Huntington

In a departure from my usual style, I’m going to let someone else speak. Actually I’m going to let two other people talk instead. I bumped into Tadhg and Merlene the other night. This is a couple where two completely very different individuals on first glance. [If you judge people by external appearances.] But when they started to talk... I began to realise they had an early common experience that formed them into the people they are now.

Although today Tadhg and Merlene live together in London with their two children, and although both were born Londoners, neither lived in the REAL UK once their childhood front doors were closed....

Tadhg’s parents were from the Republic of Ireland, Merlene’s parents were from Jamaica. Ireland and Jamaica though thousands of miles apart have another startling fact in common. Only North America pips the UK for the largest populations of Irish and Jamaicans outside of Ireland and Jamaica. And yet curiously...the ‘old country’ does seem to come along and live in the ‘new’ with the immigrants and their families.

To be fair...being proud of your heritage and fear of losing it in a new country is something that drives all people. One only has to think of the British Raj not submitting to the indigenous way of life on the subcontinent despite being there for eighty years! But Tadhg and Merlene’s reminiscences made me realise that sometimes we export a little more than pride in our roots when we up sticks and live overseas.
Over to them...

TADHG’s STORY

“There were few opportunities in Ireland back in the 50’s, my folks came over to make a better life. If they could have stayed at ‘home’ in Ireland they would have. My family were obsessed with keeping things traditional. My dad and his brothers all emigrated and worked together. Their wives (who they all met here through the Catholic Club) became each others ‘sisters’ and us kids... well our cousins became our ready made social life. Being Catholic played a big part in everything, even school – everyone we knew was Irish... our doctor, our postman, our butcher, ...didn’t matter what there was always someone from ‘home’ who lived round the corner who did what you needed. We never integrated because we never had to, but also because my parents went to great lengths to protect us children from integrating. They thought their morals, values and principals were part of our heritage and culture and we shouldn’t dilute them. The worse thing we could be accused of would be of ‘going English on them’. To reinforce this we would spend our summer holidays in Ireland to visit every dead relations grave and have tea in every living relations house. We were seldom let off the leash but on the rare occasions we came across local kids in Ireland they would tease us mercilessly about our English accents and throw stones at us and jeer that we were not welcome in their country. Meanwhile back in England our house remained a shrine to Ireland down to the tricolour flying over the shed, the leprechaun door knocker, patriotic green furniture and ‘Danny Boy’ belting out of the stereo. It was kind of bizarre, our whole lives had been spent in one country but we were expected to behave as if we lived in another. Despite the fact that England was our home and England had been good to us as a family, England was something we did not experience on a day to day basis. I had an overbearing urge to be normal... to just stop standing out... to breathe the air of the in country of MY birth and I wanted to experience ENGLAND, so at 17... I left home. I was less than 5 minutes from the parental home...but in another country all together”

MERLENE’S STORY

“Rather like Tadhg’s parents mine found opportunities at home rather scarce. Unlike Ireland though, Jamaica was part of the UK...UK Overseas Department! . Back then the UK was plagued with labour shortages; the UK government looked to its overseas department for help and encouraged migration. Although not always welcomed by the locals, my parents still looked upon the UK as the ‘Mother Country ‘ and were given to acting a little like estranged children reunited with a slightly cruel parent. In the colonies all it took to be British was to take to your heart every British institution and to above all stay loyal. It was considered patriotic to work for state run companies, the NHS, British Rail, the GPO. In our house the BBC was the only broadcasting medium that had any authority – my parents acted almost wounded on behalf of the Aunty Beeb that ITV even existed! Although we were always encouraged to be proud of Jamaican heritage and culture, assimilating into my parents’ version of the indigenous culture was a key part of my upbringing. Radio 4 was always on, we were encouraged to pay attention to the annunciation of the broadcasters and had it drilled into us that we would not get on if we did not speak properly. Ghetto-ising ourselves was thought to be counter productive, so as soon as my parents were financially viable they bought a house out in the suburbs and wore our tiny demographic with pride. We spent most of our summer holidays in the UK seeing the scenery and historic monuments ... but we did do the big holiday to Jamaica to sit on relations sofas and be told stories about the old days. Either way, the local kids at home and abroad both thought of us a foreign and like Tadhg we had to dodge the stuff they threw at us! Official organisations like church and school were absolute authorities as far as my parents were concerned. The idea of maverick members of either was alien to them so although we were kept on a very tight leash these organisations had large role to play in our social lives. We attended the local suburban church which followed the same strand of the protestant faith (but somewhat more boringly!). The church run clubs including Brownies and the Guides which meant that we could socialise with children our own age and even go away on trips. School Journeys were also seen as allowable. My parents had a colonials unshakable trust in the ‘old country’ even though the country they were in bore no relation to it. Looking back I had a curious childhood, similar I should imagine to any ex-pat anywhere in the world. In the same way that a Brit living in Australia has a slightly nostalgic take on Blighty, so did my parents – the England they brought in their heads with them was not the one they arrived to find, but they lived in it anyway! I was desperate to try the REAL England by the end of my teens. I knew it was there...but my parents wouldn’t let it in. I left home at 19 and found it just outside the door”



So there you go... looking for England... while in it. I wonder how commonplace that is.? The UN claim 3% of the worlds population (191 million people worldwide) up sticks and live in a country other than the one of their birth. Obviously people will go on to have children in the new country. But Tadhg and Merlene made me wonder...are those children in the new country or the old one? Maybe sometimes behind the closed door of another house is another world.




Note to Tadhg and Merlene :
I’m so glad you found each other and I hope together you enjoy being actually in the England you saw outside your childhood windows but were never truly a part of.
Jax



The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter-http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto :http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success.

BLOG 157: NOT the Jane Austen Fan Club

“How quick come the reasons for approving what we like” Jane Austen

What is it about fans of Jane Austen? They blather on about keen social observations and witty dialogue and automatically assume that like them you would have read and re-read her books and of course you too are a massive fan. If you say you aren’t one they seem to think you are a heretic and hate all books! They just simply believe that because their never ending fan club boasts the likes of JK Rowling and Rudyard Kipling that everybody in the world must feel the same way.

Well I love books, and I am not a heretic! I get it that Jane Austen is lauded as one of the worlds all time great writers. I’m not stopping you reading the 6 books she managed to cobble together. I am just saying that I don’t like them. I think they are over hyped and that NO…I’m not a fan.

I find all 6 books a trifle tedious. I am sure that my early exposure to Jane Austen has resulted in my permanently unmarried status. I have almost made it my mission to have something more rewarding to do with my time than be inspired by books wherein all the female characters spend their days dreaming of being married, scheming to be married or lamenting that they are not married.

Of course that’s not entirely fair, Jane Austen did have a poke around social position and responsibility – all that stuff about considering how many peoples happiness are in your guardianship. But the fact remains she was preoccupied with getting that ring on your finger before 30. I find it almost impossible to understand why anyone could be worshipper of books in which so little else concerns the narrative.

I think a writer’s job is to (with words) take a snapshot of a time, or an emotion or a people…or just something worth recording. Writers tell a tale. I keep hearing over and over how witty Miss Austen’s 6 books are… and yes our Jane did have a way with dialogue, but I never once in 6 books found any tale other than….will our heroine get hitched?

Yawn!

You see the thing that winds me up the most about Miss Austen is that the books are set while the Napoleonic War was going on… but all we ever get to hear about it is how fine the soldiers dress uniforms are. The books are set in manor houses staffed by a fleet of servants, many of whom are miles from home and displaced … but their stories are never told. If you want to know what happens outside the parlour or ballrooms of this period better settle down with Sir Walter Scott, Susan Ferrier or even Maria Edgeworth (and she was writing for kids)! Miss Austen satisfied herself with ladies dithering about between the sexy character and the worthy character and then deciding that the worthy character was the one for them, because in £££’s he was WORTH more. (That is one screwed up valuation of worthiness if you ask me!)

In real life Jane Austen never married and was desperate to prove to her class that earning a living wasn’t a bad idea for a woman. But her books do not reflect any desire to reward rebellion. In her books there is a distinct lack of reward for being anything like exciting, sexy, urbane or rebellious. Basically as soon as a character gets a little interesting… the big foot falls from the sky!

George Wickham in Pride and Prejudice (a man with whom you’d defo want to plan a night out) Frank Churchill in Emma (a man with whom you’d defo plan a night in) John Willoughby in Sense and Sensibility (a man with whom you'd never need matches to light a fire!)… all rubbished by the last chapter. WHY? Cause they are hot, sexy, gorgeous and like a night out in the city. (You will note I struggle to find a female character to set the pulse a racing)

However… in Miss Austen's worlds it is dullard bores who do well. Check out anyone who likes to walk pointlessly around formal gardens in the countryside… and watch the manna from heaven falling around them. Drippy women like Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey and patronising men like Mark Darcy in Pride and Prejudice is where it is at. Despite having as much passion as a damp teacloth it’s the likes of them who get the prize at the end.

I don’t know… I never lived in Regency England… but suspect that even in that period a bodice or two got ripped. Pick up a Bronte novel though and you get windy moors, class difference, lust and a love that will not be denied, pick up our Jane and you get cups of teas and needlepoint in the vicarage. Why is it that Jane Austen’s 6 books good old fashioned passion is always sidelined in favour of respectability (and cash… always the £££) . Why is it that Jane Austen's novels seen as the true romances of the Regency era - they are so predictable and limited and... passionless.

I’m not saying that our Jane couldn’t write a book. She clearly could (even if she wouldn’t own up to the first four of them and published them under the name ‘A Lady’). It’s just that lets face it… her books are about bored women who primarily live outside the loop in a boring country manor house who spend the whole book looking for insults where none were meant. Then they ignore people for a few chapters who haven’t got a clue why (as no insult was meant). No one says what they mean, no one is proactive. Why doesn't someone say ‘to hell with this’ and go on wild shopping sprees, have affairs, or indulge in too much wine… come on this has GOT to be more likely! This is Regency England after all!!! (a time of extreme excess) Can you really imagine that ‘taking a turn around the garden’ was the cure all for such a dull life while the Regent built the Brighton Pavallion and Beau Brummel flounced around in cravats? I just do not buy it!!!

Which is rather the same experience Jane's potential reading audience had... they just didn't buy it either. When published her books brought her only a few positive reviews during her lifetime… all this Janite worship is a 20^th century phenomenon… which co-insides with the 1940 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. I think all this love for Jane Austen has more to do with the movie and TV representations of her books.

Somehow (perversely) the very dullness gives the stories glamour. There is no passion, no cruelty, no bitterness, no greed, no cynicism… in other words no trace of a world that in any way has traits of our own. Instead we have daughters, dowagers, drawing rooms, dithering and dances. We get soldiers and no wars. We see overt sexuality punished by a fall from grace (every time) and repressed behaviour mildly misunderstood (for a short period of time). And we can guarantee that the moment the heroine stumbles upon the hero’s big house… she WILL love him with a passion strangely lacking from the prior scenes of the movie. Most of all… we get cute regency costumes, some wicked bonnets and a whole battalion of off duty soldiers looking hot in their dress uniforms.

The books adapt well to the big and small screens… I have to say that although she never wrote either the rain scene in the 2005 movie version or the wet shirt scene in the 1995 TV version of Pride and Prejudice… kudos to our Jane for the inspiration. But the best thing of all about the film versions is that of all we get through the darn things quicker than the book. (So much easier to watch the girl Paltrow flounce about as Emma than read the 416pg paperback!)

So NO I am NOT a fan of Jane Austen. If you are … then fine. Read away… but I warn you in advance that your conversation with me about her books will be possibly the shortest one we ever have. You will tell me that she wrote to highlight the dependence of women upon marriage to secure social standing and economic security. I’ll say I don’t give a monkeys….Because I’m not a fan.

I’m not a heretic … I just think the books were a bit sucky and the only thing me and Jane Austen agree on is that if I wrote them I wouldn’t have owned up to them during my lifetime either!

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter-http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto :http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success

BLOG 156: TRUE DAT!

“So much easier to believe in a convenient lie....than an inconvenient truth” from the Salem Witch-hunt

It comes as little surprise that those with an agenda lie. The truth even when totally self evident is often a roadblock to justification of a path about to be taken. It had been a long tradition to align unrelated truths together and claim that the outcome is related. The witch-hunt’s were a great example of this, any minority outcome when compared to a majority outcome could be declared witchcraft. I have always been fascinated by the ducking pond method of establishing if a woman was actually a witch. Hold her underwater and she drowns... she’s innocent. Hold her underwater and she survives...she’s guilty. By aligning two unrelated truths: a) the most likely outcome of trial by ducking pond is drowning and b)the activities of a witch including performing supernatural activities the witch-hunts were able to ‘prove’ the truth that they had indeed captured a practitioner of witch-craft.

This kind of lie is fabulous for those with an agenda... you can justify just about anything with 2 unrelated truths... especially when your audience are stupid enough not to question your choice of truths.

We've done it since childhood... blame the person with the smoking pistol rather than look for the person with the gunpowder residue on their fingers. It's a habit that is easily manipulated by those with an agenda.

Take these popular truths going around Britain today.

A) A) The UK has an annual bill £164.7 billion in welfare payments currently. B) The UK is in debt currently.

The obvious conclusion to gain from this is that the first statement led directly to the second statement. Which leads you to conclude that the eradication of A) will eradicate B).

It sounds like common sense. It’s a witch that floats... so to the stake with it we say!!!

Except.... are those two facts the whole story? Or is it a case of someone being left with a smoking pistol? I mean after all the welfare system isn't something new to the UK. Why is it that suddenly we can't afford to run it? Should we be looking for a new phenomena? Could it possibly be that the debt may have been run up elsewhere?

Here's a few candidates who have gunpowder residue on their fingers...Northern Rock Bank, Abbey, HBOS, HSBC, Nationwide Building Society, and Standard Chartered Bank. These banking institutions all took bailouts that account for £134.5 billion of net debt. In addition the govt purchased a 68% stake in the Royal Bank Of Scotland and a 43% stake in Lloyds Trustees Savings bank ... bringing the amount of public funds spent bolstering the banks to a staggering £850 billion .

Now then which figure is bigger.. £164.7 billion or £850 billion?

Still want to burn that witch?

But hang on BANKS in debt? Don’t be stupid!!! Lets just blame those people who don’t work...it makes more sense... doesn’t it? I mean they are contributing nothing so the debt MUST be their fault. Isn’t it?

The benefits bill covers pensions, disability living allowances, income support and job seekers allowances (people who are on benefits are there for a variety of reasons - not everyone is just lazy) but even taking an underclass of job-shy into account the UK’s income tax receipts have always comfortably covered the benefits bill. There have been blips like in 1999/2000 where the government of the day found themselves £1.5 billion out of pocket, but normally there is a comfortable margin. This was true up to 2008/2009.... but then the 2009/2010 figures showed £24.2 billion short. Suddenly there was more going out in benefits than coming in from income tax. And you can't possibly blame the banks for THAT!

Or could you?

Money is a strange thing.

Money is needed to generate money. It is nothing new that banks use deposited funds to buy stocks and shares and make money. The bowler hatted brigade have been at that since ...well kind of forever.

But here is something new.

Do you remember the noughties? Do remember the headlines about The Tsunami of Cash? Remember when everyone seemed to be throwing money at you? It seemed true that wealth and liberation came in the form of paper or electronic money and every bank was up for distributing limitless amounts of this commodity as a cure for all social and economic ills. Happy Days! Cool Britannia indeed.

Want a bit of bling, then pop it on your credit card and if that is maxed out get another at 0% interest for the next 2 years! Want a car? Lease finance companies were happy to fund your car (don’t settle for anything less than the car of your dreams)! Want a house? Then Mortgage companies would lend you the purchase price PLUS the money for stamp duty and a refurb and possibly a holiday to get over the stress that is moving home. It was a real time of buy now...pay later. Everything was underwritten by the banks...all you had to do was sign your name.

The days of bowler hatted respectable banking, of cautiously managing money and avoiding risk were over, banking got sexy... it was all about hedging your bets. Banks started to gamble and it seemed to be paying dividends. It was all about debt - except no one likes the word debt so it was renamed risk management. Money was borrowed from funds that were going to repaid someday and used to buy a share or a bond,or a future contract and were traded on the margin. Thus invisible, locationless money ebbed and flowed around the world ... no one quite knew where the money was or if any of the debts were going to be repaid. It didn’t seem to matter as everyone was living off the margins. Even when the loan defaulting began (remember all those repossessions?) it never occurred to anyone that eventually all that money that was borrowed, loaned out and sold on as 'risk' would eventually have to be repaid and there was little chance of that happening if the money that had come out of nowhere was returning to exactly the same place. NOWHERE.

The money wasn't real. The only thing that was real was that the banks were being asked to honour the promises THEY had made and they simply did not have the cash... or any one left to borrow some from.

So the government stepped in.

Basically... put in straight forward terms.... the banks loaned money to people which was money they themselves had borrowed, the people the banks borrowed the money off wanted their money back. The people the banks loaned the money too couldn’t repay the money. The banks asked the government to loan them the money to repay the people the people they owed money to.

And it would have worked apart from one thing. The banks had to close lines of credit. Those lines of credit went to businesses whose products and services were purchased by people who also had those lines of credit which meant that no one buying stuff. This meant that companies had to let staff go because they couldn't pay them. Which meant that those people were no longer paying income tax which is the money in the public purse ,which is the money the government has to spend.

BUT the government couldn't let the banks crash. So it loaned them the money from the public purse but only had 64.9% of the total to hand so borrowed the remainder of other countries and investors.

Oh and just when you think things couldn't get more ropey... Guess who started defaulting on the money THEY had borrowed...

The banks were supposed to pay the government back ... but before long it became clear that Northern Rock and Bradford & Bingley were obviously unable to pay back their £123 billion. Then a further £9 billion given to the Dunfermline Building Society went the same way. As if that wasn't bad enough, the picture got considerably worse as sure thing repayments from high street big name banks were clearly not going to be paid back. The Office of National Statistics shows Britain has pledged £851.2 billion in capital injections and liability guarantees and liquidity support to the banking system ...that hasn’t shown any sign of resisting defaulting.

However... remember the Tsunami of Cash?... this money was global issue...other countries wanted their money back... (their banks were doing what our banks were doing too!). So to stay afloat those countries and investors are charging the UK interest while they wait(approx £42 million per year) as the UK can't even think of paying back the £300 billion right now.

Hey presto! It's that global recession we've all heard so much about!

So... still unsure what has this got to do with the fact that more money goes out in benefits than comes in income tax?

Well... I'm no economist but...

Many private sector businesses depending on lines of credit that have now gone... (and among them some very established names....Woolworths anybody?). Job losses are a casualty of that scenario. Other businesses are trimming the fat... and that means redundancies as companies prepare for the leaner times ahead. Public sector employees are most vulnerable of all as it is their paymasters who have the emptiest of coffers... job losses in every area from posties, to teachers, to soldiers, to policemen, to nurses, to lollipop men. Here's a couple of cold hard facts. In December 2008 - 1.07 million persons were registered as unemployed in the UK, In December 2010 2.56 million persons were registered as unemployed in the UK.

Some extra facts to add to witch burning menu... The 'buoyant' economy of the noughties was built on borrowed money that was not repaid. To stave of a bank crash the UK loaned £850 billion to the banks of which almost a third was borrowed. Without the lines of credit the 'buoyant' economy started failing. The failing economy added 1.49 million extra to the unemployment figures. The revenue raised to cover welfare payments comes from income tax. The amount raised from income tax has declined as 1.49 million people are not contributing to it who were previously. The UK is in debt to the tune of £300 billion to overseas governments and investors who are charging £42million annually in interest.

But come on... just because those figures are a matter of public record doesn’t mean to say that we have to believe them! Come on we’ve been told that the problem with this country is that lazy arse people sit a home watching day time tv living the life of riley while the rest of us struggle to put a crust on the table. And these people are below our contempt... (well they are certainly lower than us on the economic ladder)... BLOODY SCROUNGERS!!!!

Yes...lets’ build a pyre... wander down to our local sink estate and chuck the first unmarried mother who is claiming benefits on it. Because it’s logical that the economic mess that the country is in is HER fault.

Yes... let’s BURN THE WITCH!!!!

Of course... because if you can blame her and those like her... you won’t have to think about the house you bought, the car you drive, the holiday you had or the bling you bought.... on the credit from the banks, who when you and others like you couldn’t repay fast enough (or at all), were bailed out by the government, who borrowed money that plunged us all into this mess.

Yes... easier to burn the witch eh?

I return to the quote with which I started....

“So much easier to believe in a convenient lie....than an inconvenient truth”.

Isn’t it?

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter-http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog

If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto :http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/

Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success.