It‘a Crisis - but for how long?

I see that the Euro Crisis is still continuing. Steps are being taken to resolve this, as they have been for the past umpteen months.

How long can a crisis last? I always imagined (i.e. “in my day, a crisis……) that a crisis was a point in time; a point when a decision was made; a point in time, when history might go one way or might go another way.

The Free online dictionary tells me that a crisis is:

- A crucial or decisive point or situation; a turning point or.

- An unstable condition, as in political, social, or economic affairs, involving an impending abrupt or decisive change

Perhaps then, contrary to my initial prejudice, this really is a crisis. It is certainly unstable, although whether there is to be an abrupt or decisive change is another question. In this case, I guess that it is a crisis, because it is expected that there will be an abrupt or decisive change.

But what happens if “Euro Crisis” eventually ends, not abruptly or decisively, but slides steadily and gradually into chaos, bankruptcy of various countries, a gradual drift into recession, and / or the continuous drip feed of German (and French) money to pay for the running expenses of its neighbours (with something left over for me, I hope).  Does this mean that someone will admit that it was all a big mistake and that there wasn’t a crisis after all?

José Barroso might announce “Sorry folks – it wasn’t a crisis at all. It was just a continuous unsolvable problem. There was no abrupt or decisive ending. We have just slipped remorsely into bankruptcy / civil war / been taken over by Saudia Arabia /oblivion” (please delete as required), while trying to look statesmanlike and in control.

Another way of putting the question is how many summits does it take before a crisis becomes something…well …more boring and routine?  I mean to say, that apart from David Cameron’s recent appearance on the “Euro Crisis” platform, not a lot has changed in the headlines on “Euro Crisis”. Actually, I think that the newspapers are now just recycling old headlines.

I have decided to take different tacks on this question, by asking what it would take to end the crisis, whether it is necessary to end a crisis or whether a crisis can carry on indefinitely (Perhaps these two questions are actually the same).

After all, the modern meaning (as used by the newspapers and newscasts) of a “Crisis” is really just an unsatisfactory or undesired state of affairs. This is what most people refer to as a problem. “Greece is Bankrupt” / “The problems of the NHS in England are unsolvable / inflation is increasing / unemployment is rising / education system is failing”. These are actually just statements of fact. In themselves, they are not crises.

The consequences are unpleasant, and if one had previously believed something different, then the recognition of the truth is something of a jolt. In political terms, this leads to hyperactivity (e.g. summits), in an attempt to deny the inevitable.

For this sorry state of affairs, we (voters) only have ourselves to blame. After all, what politician was ever re-elected on the banner “It is hopeless. The best thing is to do nothing and see what happens”. Besides which it makes for pretty boring news, and the English don’t like their news to be boring, but stirring for the emotions.

What if they are not “Crises”? The moment of crisis was over, probably when no one was watching, when we were all tucked up in bed, fast asleep, believing that all was well with the world. At the point at which we recognise that there is a problem, the crisis is long past. The point for decision is miles behind us, and all political leaders can do is to thrash around, while looking statesmanlike, and spend billions of whatever currency we choose, of other people’s money, to help us look statesmanlike.

Therefore I propose a new category in the Guinness Book of Records. “The Record Length for an Unresolved Crisis”.

Like a Damn Winter

My search for the essential Hawker continues. Although I wanted to be thought of as a spider, it is possible that we are butterflies. However, the Guardian reported that we are dragonflies and in danger of extinction. http://colinhawker.blogspot.com/2010/03/hawker-in-danger-of-extinction.html

I have been assisted in my search for personal identity by Max Küng, writer of a column in “Das Magazin”, in the Saturday Edition of the Tages Anzeiger. He comments that “The winter, this year, has been like a damn hawker, whom one sends to the devil, but simply won’t go away”. http://dasmagazin.ch/index.php/max-kung-53/ (The Google translator comes up with „damn peddler“. See the start of the 5th Paragraph).

My initial reaction was one of outrage. My emotions were similar to those I experienced, as a young man, on seeing myself unwanted in so many places. “No Hawker or Circulars” was a common warning to my kith and kin to stay away.

For Max Küng’s comments, I would write to my Swiss MP, a draft letter of protest to the Tages Anzeiger, instruct lawyers, organise a demonstration outside the offices of this newspaper and start a movement to promote “Hawkers are like the Spring”.

However, on more mature reflection (and dragonflies are not known for mature reflection), it is possible that Max Küng has shed a new light on the characteristics on Hawkers. It reminded me of an answer that I gave once at an interview, when asked what thought my defining characteristic is. “Stubbornness” was the immediate response. Certainly persistent. Probably also very irritating and annoying.

I should have added “Like a damn winter. You try to send it to the devil, but it simply won’t go away”.

I feel a new motto coming one.

The Hawker in Danger of Extinction

It has taken Edward Hawker to discover our true nature and the danger of our position. We are dragonflies and are on the brink of extinction.

Personally, I had always regarded myself as a butterfly, never concentrating long enough to on any one subject to be an expert, and being an object of bewilderment to those around (“I wonder what he is up to this time? – another marathon, I suppose”) and then moving on to the next subject.

I am not sure about the distinctive elements in our genes. Hawker are adequately equipped for survival, can be randomly annoying and are fast enough to run away from danger. In the insect world, I could cope with being a spider. Additional possibilities here of causing some mischief, by scaring spinsters in their baths, before being swatted by the News of the World.

I would not want to be an ant. It’s a dog’s life being an ant (hmm), having to do as you are told, and carrying out a single prearranged task during your life. This would be too boring, unless you happen to be the one responsible for being the parent of 20 million offspring.

But I had never considered that I might be a dragonfly. Darting to and fro, albeit for only a brief time, and creating a colourful distraction to children playing by ponds. But no sooner have I discovered that I am a dragonfly, I find out that out the East Anglian branch is in danger of extinction. Global warming, the financial crisis and the internet must be to blame.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/gallery/2010/mar/11/conservation-wildlife?picture=360209661

To paraphrase Edward, “Oh no, the Norfolk Hawker is in danger from rising sea levels and loss of Wetland – Louise, what are you going to do if this reaches Norwich? Let’s hope this problem doesn’t reach that far.”

(Do dragonflies have to go through CRB checks, before being allowed to fly near children?)

Shouting at the Television

I have always found it very therapeutic to shout at the television and the people on the news, the broadcasters, interviewers, interviewees, and the journalists themselves. They are so irritating.

Of course, my behaviour is disruptive and annoying to anyone trying to watch. It is also irrational. But I have been off form recently. Not nearly enough anger and heckling recently. But I was on good form Monday evening. “What is the matter with that man? Has he got a crick in his neck?” referring to the reporter in Los Angeles, who had his head at 45 degrees, as if consoling an upset colleague, speaking about the arrest of Michal Jackson’s doctor.

“Can’t that woman shut up?” I shouted as the presenter asks the same question in 4 different ways, taking longer than the answer itself. Then of course, there was a senior civil servant, desperately trying to stay on script, looking sincere, but with his hands, shoulders and, in fact all moving bodily parts, totally static, as he talks in a style that I reserve for reading train timetables. “Has he got piles?”

Then I was brought down to earth, as I waited to hear whether the name of the soldier killed in Afghanistan is someone we know. There is an empty feeling the in the bottom of the stomach, which is not relieved as the name is not given, although the family have been informed. Now I go quiet.