MONEY, money, money must be funny; it's a rich man's world. When first he coined these prescient words, bearded eccentric Karl Marx could little have thought they'd strike a chord in 2008.
Now, money is being bunged aboot willy and, in some cases, nilly. It's the root of all evil and the route to our salvation. How the nation cheered to read that Sir Fred "The Shred" Goodwin, who has resigned as head of the Royal Bank of Scotland, will
get a pension of £580,000 a year to help him thole the stress of having nothing to do. Foolishly, though, he has waived a further pay-off of £1.2 million. Why doesn't he just take that as well? Very few people have his skills, and these should be rewarded commensurately, otherwise he may be lured abroad for his retirement.
I've been amazed at the calls for revenge against the bankers. While I've often called for the tumbrils to roll in the first week of independence – and have even offered to wear a black eyepatch and travel the country in a sinister train, arresting local traitors – I fear that, when it comes down to it, I'm pretty much a live-and-let-live sort of person. My bark is worse than my bite, particularly with these dentures.
What's the point of moaning aboot fat cats noo? I tellt you at the time that the situation was ridiculous. It's funny how some folk just don't get it. They moan about the minimum wage going up by 5p an hour while performing yogic intellectual contortions to justify ludicrous largesse for militant merchants.
But the mood in Britannia is darkening. Analysts and other bottom-studiers predict the widely admired United Kingdom will become increasingly intolerant of self-indulgent, intolerant behaviour. According to Vince Cable, a leading Liberal Democrat (a bit like being a major shop assistant): "There will be a strong reaction against binge-lending, binge-spending and binge-drinking."
However, last night, leading bingers reacted with fury to the prediction, and threatened to strike or go on a work-to-rule, thus fuelling the irritating habit of newspapers baying for a "winter of discontent" (yawn).
In her hour of need, Mrs Britain has turned to handsome, likeable chancer Peter Mandelson to mollify citizens frightened by ravings aboot doom and even gloom. Nobly, Peter has quit his post in the European Union, where he was head of horticultural strategy. However, as luck would have it, he qualifies for "transitional payments" worth £234,000 over the next three years, plus an added annual allowance of £78,000. On top of his Cabinet wage of £104,000, some financial experts predict he may now be able to afford a house and a car.
Critics say Mandelson is a grasping Jasper whom any panto audience would hiss when he appeared on stage. But even they were distressed to read that he was suffering form kidney stones, possibly as a result of drinking Chinese yogurt. This allegedly has among its key ingredients industrial plastics and unwholesome chemicals. The Chinese will adulterate anything given half the chance.
And now they've made me lose my thread. To recap: money makes the world go pear-shaped. Tough times lie ahead. We'll need strong leadership to see us through. The nation requires men with the mysterious skills necessary to attend boardroom meetings, read the tarot of the marketplace, and interpret the invisible runes stamped on every Stock Exchange transaction.
We must find more money to reward those who got us into this mess and incentivise those who would lead us out of it. As a start, we should increase Sir Fred's pension to £700,000 a year and insist he reverses his childish decision not to take the £1.2 million to which he is entitled. Second, we should slash the minimum wage by 30 pence. This will help employers make increased profits, which will allow them to pay themselves bigger wages, which will sharpen their talents and let them make the bold strategic decisions that could save us. As the influential pop group Abba put it: "Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones, la-la-la."
The Earth's been turned on its axisWE LIVE in topsy-turvy times. North Korea has been invited into the axis of prosperity, while Iceland has been relegated to the arc of evil. Recent commentaries have shown that some people don't know their arc from their elbow. Obviously, the collapse of the British banking sector proves the union between Scotland and England is a good thing. The fact Scottish taxpayers' money is needed to bail out the Lloyds and Halifax banks shows England could never be independent. Similarly, the collapse of the Icelandic banking sector contains important lessons for all countries with a population of 316,000 and a dependence on fish. In poverty-ridden Norway, meanwhile, citizens are clamouring to be taken back under the protective wing of Mother Sweden, from which the country split disastrously in 1905. Despite having a population and resources similar to Scotia's, Norway became one of the poorest countries in the world. The Icelanders and Norwegians show that small, independent nations can never prosper, unlike large countries with their excellent banks, unfeasibly large debt, persistent poverty, comical arrogance and splendid penchant for wars.
I suppose Aggie was especially adept at sweeping for bugs…THE world is getting too ridiculous. Nothing is what it seems. We've learned to expect this, to remain on edge. It allows us to cope with modern life and its distressing unpredictability. However, news that Aggie the cleaner off the telly used to be in MI6 proved a bombshell too much. Ms MacKenzie, star ofHow Clean Is Your Cludgie?, was once known as E3. She wasn't a spy as such – she was a Moneypenny-style secretary – but was still taught how to trail subversives, avoid being followed, and use a gun. Her boss was called C, and Aggie frequently handled files marked Top Secret. It was only when sent to Northern Ireland that she became disturbed by the less ethical side of the charitable organisation. After that, she was put under surveillance herself. Remember, this is Aggie the cleaner we're talking about. Now she's washed her dirty laundry in public. It's almost as shocking as the revelation that top Scottish Tory Annabel Goldie was once a punk called Snottie Lottie.
The full article contains 1104 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
