It’s a sweeping generalisation to say that Americans don’t understand irony. I had a girlfriend once who lived in North Carolina and she certainly knew that irony isn’t a metallurgical state before it becomes rusty. However, it is fair to say that as a breed they tend to be literal, unsubtle, full-on and quite often a little superior. Lest you think I’m anti-American I should add that I’ve had some of the best times of my life on the other side of the pond and have met many lovely people there. It’s just that for the most part they don’t understand my humour; who does!
The point I am somewhat sluggishly getting to is that I am currently thoroughly enjoying a rather large tome called Breaking the Code of History by David Murrin. David has enjoyed a number of careers and you can read all about them on his website, which is worth a visit. The book delves into the rise and fall of all empires since the beginning of time; well it doesn’t include dinosaurs, although looking around me they aren’t yet quite extinct. I am still in the early stages of the 450 odd pages, but having watched a very interesting hour long interview with him on You Tube, I get his drift. He believes that all empires go through five stages before crashing to earth like Icarus. It doesn’t take a nuclear scientist to realise that China is in the relatively early stages of the next great (?) empire. Already it has subtley colonised large tracts of the globe through economic and financial aid. It has a long term plan, meaning many decades rather than five yearly, it is close to becoming the world’s largest economy and it has built up its armed forces to an extent that they may already be bigger and better than America’s. Certainly it now boasts the world’s largest navy. All empires have enjoyed superior military strength. The two go hand in hand. Anyone who thinks that all this is happening because boys like their train sets is living in cloud cuckoo land, wherever that may be. It is categorically an offensive, not defensive force. Mr Murrin puts forward a compelling case that America is getting uncomfortably close to its Icarus moment. He believes that on our present course, a third world war on a grand scale is almost inevitable between 2024 and 2026, if serious action isn’t taken to turn things around. His argument is that the dollar will soon plunge and will no longer be the world’s reserve currency; that America is so terminally indebted (do you have any idea what thirty trillion dollars looks like?!) and so poorly led that it’s decline is inevitable. He goes on to argue that the pound will probably strengthen considerably and that global Britain, unfettered by the anchor chain of Europe, will become a vital cog in the machine that is needed to stop China from its ambition of planetary domination; IF and I don’t have print large enough to emphasise the “IFFFF”, we spend considerable sums of money to expand our armed forces rapidly over the next couple of years. There are of course economic gains to be had from expanding naval shipyards, opening up new aircraft factories and investing in advanced cyber weaponry. But does our noble government have the vision, not to mention balls, to make that sort of dramatic investment? I am inclined to doubt it.
Reading his fascinating insights into the ancient Egyptian, Greek and Roman Empires did make me wonder why the Pyramids, Parthenon and Colisseum are still standing. After all, weren’t they all built by slaves? At what point going back in history does “unacceptable” become “acceptable?
Phew, that was heavy. Meanwhile, whilst out walking Callie along the seafront the other day I saw a wonderful sight. A stiff northerly wind was wrapping its icy tentacles around unprotected flesh, as the mercury hovered closer to zero than ten. To my amazement I spotted a late middle aged couple strip down to their cozzies and march enthusiastically down the pebble shore and straight into the freezing Channel without batting an eyelid…. as far as I could tell. They’d left their pile of clothes, along with some vital rations and towels etc in a pile well up the beach, presumably lest a tsunami should suddenly strike. The hysterical bit was watching their little grey, long-haired terrier (of some description), rushing between the water’s edge and their lonely cast-offs. It would hide behind the discarded pile looking out to sea as if worried that they were doing a Reggie Perrin and about to disappear beneath the waves. After a few seconds it would again sprint down to the lapping surf, think about it for a moment and then hurtle back to its camouflaged lookout to keep an eye on its Master and Mistress. This repeating sequence kept myself, Callie and quite a few other onlookers enraptured for a number of minutes, before Callie got bored and dragged me off. It was all a wonderful world away from Cop, jabs, sleaze, refugees…….
ADayInTheStrifeOf 