Among those close to me there has been a debate recently regarding just what major factors are influencing the rapid ascent of global prices; not just in oil but other areas as well. Some tout the rise of second-tier nations as they rumble ominously onto the first-tier scene, grunting and scraping for every resource they can get their hands on. Others point stoically to the gluttonous consumption of our own nation finally showing an impact on the world stage. Unfortunately, data is scarce. It seems those doing the reporting either have no hard facts or are running scared from the prospect of educated guess-work. The result is that we, the public, have nothing but “he said - he said” reporting and peripheral anecdotes from those we “heard” are in the biz. Certainly not an optimal situation.
Thankfully, an article was added recently to the Der Spiegel Online (International) edition that steps up to the plate and begins asking those who are highly involved in the markets to explain what’s going on. This is not a piece of American journalism; It’s not trite, written at an 8th grade level and appallingly short to make the reader feel good about finishing the whole thing. No this is real writing designed to teach you something.
As much as I’d like to spend some serious time quoting giant sections and contributing my own witty commentary to each new thought and fact, I’m going to refrain. Read the article. Read it well. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll walk away with an understanding of just how badly we’re all getting screwed.
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The thing is, I love writing. I really do. So all this time I’ve been moving through my own life something internal has been crying out for a bit of release and I’m fairly certain the voice belongs to my own personal Hyde. I’m a much nicer guy now and I’ve got a very nice life - I won’t lie, it’s damn cushy - but writing lets the id roam, right alongside the damn buffalo, and I think that’s important. I guess the long and short of it is; I’m back.
After reading several reviews across the interwebs about Michael Bay’s summer movie juggernaut, Transformers, I discovered that I was feeling the same things they were. As a child, I had owned dozens of Tranformers toys; Optimus, Starscream, Megatron.. All the biggies. The cartoon was a staple of my Saturday Morning Regimen and to this day I still remember the death of Optimus Prime with a twinge in my heart. Basically, Bay had a lot to live up to and oh-so-much he could screw up. He had to know that desecrating our memories would have painted him in infamy forever. Thus, when several other bloggers plead their case I found myself joining the cry;
Oh, and one other thing… Bay threw us a bone.
You’ve all seen Die Hard. I know you have. Maybe you saw it in the theater, a long long time ago. Or probably on VHS or DVD at some point in the last ten years. Possibly even on *gasp* television. TBS likes to run dumbed down versions of the film on Sunday afternoons to keep Dad happy after golf ends. Whatever the case, you’ve seen it. Likely enough you’ve enjoyed it. For fans of the series, the second installment is often seen as a major let-down and the third… well… It’s just awesome. Jeremy Irons makes it so.
Anyway, this film was graced with a PG13 rating (the holy grail of summer blockbuster ratings) which ensured that every human over the age of 9 and under the age of, well, dead, should in theory want to go see it. While there is some decent fighting and more than a few moderately OK gunfights, the action tends to quickly jump the rails of believability and gallop the white stallion that is my shattered suspension of disbelief right into the hazy, day-glo orange sunset of moronic American enjoyment. Honestly, watching Willis in a tractor trailer avoid being decimated by what was probably a $40 billion fighter jet for five straight minutes while on a ramped highway was just about more than I could stand. Hearing the guy in the seat behind me titter, “That is SO cool!” made me want to ram a handful of his popcorn up his fat, stupid ass. Bad man. BAD. That is NOT cool. It’s stupid.
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