It has, all things considered, been quite the week.
That should clear a few things up. It still seems difficult to comprehend whatever it is that might be happening in economy and politics. Bernard Keane wrote a superb little thing midweek (and I’m not just saying that coz I pay him), ridiculing this collective sense that the markets might somehow be used as a leading indicator. This was, he thought, like seeking directions from a jibbering lunatic. Like seeking directions from a room full of hysterical jibbering lunatics all attempting to talk at once methinks. I get the sense that we are standing, stock still in a wheeling tempest of ridiculously destructive potential. It’s hard from that vantage point to get a sense of the storm’s course, or of the damage it might be doing somewhere out there in the dark and wild wind and rain. The economy goes tits up, and then there’s whatever it is that might be happening to the exhausted ecology of the place. Lets hope that somewhere on the planet is someone capable of walking, chewing gum and offering stirring words of encouragement. All at once.
Didn’t The Who turns out to be knob jockeys? That said, there has never been a more perfect dolloping, srtingy bass sound than this one.
