20 December 2007

Heartfelt request








Some of the content below contains adult material that you could find offensive.
Be warned.









From the hidden society of online dating, an updatable selection of interesting statements of intent...

Some are fantastic, some just hilarious. If you indeed wrote anything featuring below, then someone else must've by coincidence and this is just for fun:

P.S. Please no plunging necklines!

If youre havin girl problems I feel bad for ya son.

Work in Oldham - Live in Ancoats. Living the dream.

The ' Radio 4 ' of Gaydar ! Sex Factor for the over 55+ to 80 with Scottish Windows !

Looking for a healthy relationship which is 2 (!) people, one very busy bedroom, respect and faithful manners.

Not Brad Pitt but not Mr Bean either.

Gym Fanatic and PowerFucker

Im horney little bustard looking for sum fun times with str8 or married men. just like the feeling of not aloud to do this but fucking love it!

Here I am, yet again [he is 18]

There is nothing wrong with going to bed with someone of your own sex. People should be very free with sex, they should draw the line at goats.

If you want to meet please have at least 3 of the list below.
1. Handsome face
2. Fit body
3. Hairy chest and back
4. Bubble butt
5. Red hair
6. Black skin
7. Thick cock

please don't bother me if you don't have clear face picture, shyness is infantile here.

Online: Gone to psychiatrist. Dinner in washer.

If all you’re going to do is talk about suicide or how much you hate the world and how everyone should just "fuck off and leave you alone", just keep going because I’m not interested in being friends. My sympathy towards strangers has run dry.

Unwilling to change my opinions or appearance just to get laid.

Quite sexual and passionate but not looking for McShag.

Friendly and well hearted. Bit of Greek attitude on me.

Just needs a fuck.... Seeing as my boyfriend is too busy in his own little world looks like someone else is gonna have to do it.

I am not looking for crazy ones because I was already crazy one time and it was not good.

I do think I have a sense of humor.

Sorted, sane, mature and lier

There's more to life than being fucked up the ass

I WANT A BRITISH HUSBAND and to settle in the UK -- Living stateside past 2 years. Can Travel at moment's notice...

I'm described by my friends as a typical blond and a geniune nice guy.

stubble is pure laziness.

With MRSA infections now an issue with gay health I am even more careful.

do u have any v I could buy off you? I'll give u a tenner for 4 ....... or £3 for 1

HUNG TOP - private roof terrace in the sun

About: zero. Looking for: everything

like a man, only shorter. there is very little scene wise in Wimbledon.

Casting for fuck buddies

On the road, London, Mancs, Dublin and everywhere

Ugly Fukker I know but cant all be handsome

I wonder how many lifetimes would equate to the number of hours all the members on this site have devoted to their muscles, all that energy expended.

owner a firm

I have a really bad phobia on sticky out belly buttons, Sorry If you have got one, no offence but they really scare me.

if u prefer people and not cooks or bottoms... i'm here

Lately I seem to be attracted by Arabs, Blacks and Brazilian

Regarding a LTR, I'm looking for monogamy, mental health.

twatedagain

NOW BACK WITH B/F AFTER 2MONTH BREAK BEEN 2GETHER

I don't exchange votes on SexFactor

To top it all, I seem to be giving out a vibe which works its magic particularly well on non-creepy goodlooking gay men, telling: DO NOT COME NEAR…

not into catalogue sex.

I'm looking for a straight active TOP guy

"PROFFESIONAL"

i never ask for or expect reciprocation and i like to give free reign to my users ;). gay sex (the casual variety at least) is never a relationship of equals, someone always prevails and someone gets walked all over. i know some guys flip between these 2, but to be frank, i can't do the prevailing bit, so i may as well resign myself to always be the door matt with a smile ;))

i need a fag to woo my ass

i can not say much of myself, as i think i dont really
know myself.

Be original .... The number of times a week you attend gym is of as much interest to me as the number of times you visit the supermarket

man was given two heads ... but only enough blood to run one at a time ... discuss ...:p)

muscled ones come to the front however if that's all u got 2 offer, move on (???)

hot brasilian escorte dude for your funny

looking for sex but getting lies and videotape :(

THIS PROFILE IS ONLY FOR SEX IF U WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT ME ASK ME AND I WILL GIVE U MY GAYDAR PROFILE

I am a fitnees instructor and a cool guy

(Hove is in Brighton not London). Must have facial photograph.
Manners cost nothing, so please say something!!!

Why are there so many rude ignorant tossers on here???

My life is more detailed than what I could possibly put here.

I'll be in London on 3 of May and have to spend the whole day alone, so I'm looking for a guy just to walk around the city together, and then, if we both want it, to have sex

100% straight bi

Currently vers-passive.

I want some person no false for to live forever...

If one more person writes 'sup' to me I swear I'll buy a baseball cap and wear it backwards.

DAMN!! I forgot to go to the gym!

I wish I could quit you! ;)~

Not looking for anything at the moment.

75% passive.

would like to meet, have a cup of tea/coffee and talk rather than being imprisoned within this virtual dungeon...

I LOOKINGS GAYS OF 18 and 30 YERS OLD
TO SEXY IN ME STUDIO

I'm a nice guy...
Just for funny!!!

I want somebody about who I can say WITHOUT YOU, EMOUTION WOULD BE SCARF OF YESTERDAY

[man says] i'm looking for a nice, good hetero looking man!

Hey, I am a nice down to earth guy that is looking a bit of everything ;)

I LOCK FOR BOY FRIEND......

And if you find somone to love the you you love, well, thats just fabulous

Foreign guy looking for sex date 7-11 Jan 08 in my hotel in Chigwell (London).

Looking for hot long sex session, With some break for a drink and fags

Where's the poke button?

I`m equally at home in a museum or a sex club

Hi there Mr. Right. I knew I'd meet you some day. Sure, I don't ask you to be perfect! Just be real and have real feelings, like me. Oh, yes, we will have fun and we shall share much more than a bed. I love cooking for you, giving and receiving the best each deserves from the other. I love good things in life and I appreciate to be with you in those moments. I live in Brazil, but this is something we can change

straight acting, no hang ups..

Truth be told - In Cardiff next week for Xmas

12 December 2007

Underground wealth

Having been on the Intelligence Squared mailing list for donkey's years, it was about time I actually attended one of their debates. If my first experience in London's Central Methodist Hall on December 11 is a fair barometer, then I have been missing out. As I've been generally anti-war as regards the debacle that was and is Iraq, I've read a lot and watched many a debate on the intellectual spaghetti junction that this western foreign policy project comprises. What I didn't expect, then, was such an invigorating discussion about quite possibly one of the most heavily debated international affairs in all time.

My own anti-invasion stance was not born of ignorant, intransigent, I'll-die-for-the-party nonsense. I'm a very strong believer in that your opinions must constantly be updated (and therefore occasionally reversed) when you recieve new and validated information; the alternative being synonymous with religious dogma (Nassim Nicholas Taleb has a lot to say about this in his popular Fooled By Randomness).

Back in the run-up to Gulf War II let's say I was not exactly convinced by the PR case for invasion, sold as the now historically infamous weapons of mass distraction super-lie. Oderint dum metuant. At the time it wasn't a lonely position. Then something happened that quick-dry cemented my position and taught me a saddening but valuable lesson about the flavour of democracy that we are actually living in. I went along to the early 2003 Stop the War megamarch in central London. Despite the fair-ish evaluation of the event by that linked article, it was with a heart-chilling horror that I watched the coverage on the BBC TV news of that evening. I can't find it on the internet unfortunately, but let's say 'gloss-over', 'play-down', and 'trivialise' don't even get close to how that report boiled me in outrage. Irrespective of the fact that the UK was witnessing possibly one of it's largest and most significant demonstrations ever, at the time the Beeb was only able to portray it with the significance of a W.I. Tea Party. It dawned on lil' ole naïve me that the PR machine behind this one was a leviathan and that the free BBC was just a dream.

Fast-forwarding to the IQ^2 debate (now somewhere between one hundred thousand and one million deaths later, depending on who you read, e.g.), the event was structured around 3 (artificially) competing positions on what the coallition should do now:
- stay until 'we win',
- leave after a negotiated settlement,
- leave immediately.

The organisers had done a faultless job of selecting the characters to represent these motions, including the excellent and well-placed ex regional interim Iraq Governer Rory Stewart. Another representative, Tony Benn, naturally represented the anti-war-leave-now party. Whether you like him or not, he often speaks a lot of sense when it comes to Iraq and UK foreign policy in general. However he got himself in quite a pickle at one point when, equating terrorist and military action via a moral relativity argument, he outraged the 'don't condemn our boys in the army' set. But, when people sit back and really think about it, it is generally true; there is not necessarily a moral difference between a soldier and a suicide bomber. The identification of the moral higher ground is not independent of perspective. This will be one of the previously unthinkable yet universally accepted moral truths of the future.

Anyway, my one problem with that evening's event is equivalent to the problem that is now the impasse of Iraq. The 3 postions contructed to engage a lively debate are far from mutually exclusive policies. To 'win' surely implies reaching a 'negotiated' settlement so I was left unconviced about the opposing polarity of these 2 motions. Then the middle ground settlement-first camp conceded that if no agreement could be reached then a quick exit would be inevitable, so kind of like the 'get out now' team really. Confused? I was. It is.

The reports, comments and analysis of the panel and the contributing audience served well to illustrate the horrible complexity that is the reality of Iraq today. So much time was spent arguing, for instance, on whether the recent thankful reduction in sectarian violence is explained by the recent troop 'surge' or other important factors such as the truce with Muqtada al Sadr. Most probably both, obviously, and measuring the effectiveness of either in isolation would be an unthinkable experiment so stop bickering. Nevertheless, amongst the myriad factors important in the equation that is Iraq, one important one was and is neglected in this debate; the black stuff, oil, of course.

There was some discussion on whether Iraq was about oil, inevitably, but it was seriously underweighted. Personally, I don't think Iraq is entirely explicable in terms of oil; America's political and popular need for aggression post September 11, notwithstanding Afganistan, is an equally considerable factor, at least as a significant trigger. But look it is this way: remove the variable and do you get the same result? Would we now be 5 years and $1.2 trillion and £5 billion into this operation if Iraq did not sit on top of one of world's largest and most accessible reservoirs of oil? Over 100 billion barrels apparently. In other words approximately $10 trillion at today's prices.

Of course the arguments can be extended here. The baathists would possibly not have succeeded in their ignoble tyranny without oil revenue either (being a minority who inhabited oil-starved regions then tyranny was surely the only option), so possibly fighting the baath and securing oil is actually the same thing.

The one crucial relationship markedly lacking from the whole debate was the one between oil, settlement and 'winning'. Whether the perceived need to secure the oil supply to the 'West' or just secure the lion's share of its revenue explains the invasion or not, there is no way the US government will now leave without having a very favorable arrangement in place regarding its access and exploitation of that resource. The devil is in the detail. The detail of the contracts. Just as in all contracts, the small print.

The coalition's attempts to set up a valid, representative government in Iraq have so far been deemed disasterous. Are the demands for oil revenue too high to enable a successful settlement for a self-governing Iraq? The ever-stalling negotiations are often attributed to interregional arguments withing Iraq, but is this really the true picture? There is an extremely expensive military operation to pay for after all.

The sectarian violence control argument, as terrible as the sectarian violence actually can be, is a distraction when used in relation to the coalition's exit strategy policy. We (the US?) will not leave until a deal is reached on the control and revenue of Iraq's existing and to be discovered oilfields. This is the debate that now needs to take place in the public consciousness and it is sadly lacking.

Economic arguments help explain all conflict, because economics is nothing more than the study of people and their motives. Yet there is always a reluctance to acknowledge this in popular debate and the media combined. It's like when no-one mentions access to water when discussing the Israeli-Palestinian problem. On one hand, distraction, smokescreens and decoys are often encouraged. On the other, emotion, tribalism and violence - all acting as a proxies for the economic struggle to secure resources - sells a lot more newspapers. Talking economics dirties a war. But wars are economic in origin. And wars are always dirty.

10 December 2007

It's made to be dull for a reason

Yet again there are things going on in finance of much import to the (wo)man on the street. The consideration it might deserve is however is not exactly guaranteed. One problem (or advantage, depends on your perspective) being it competes poorly with certain reincarnated canoeists or X-factor nonsense, especially in the Advent social calendar. The other being of course that anything to do with finance feels a) inextricably dull and b) a bit tricky to understand.

Duller than all, but maybe more important for most: pensions. Oh god, even the word sounds so dull. But again, depending on your interests, maybe it's supposed to. But over the weekend and continuing today is some UK government scolding (particularly aimed at Brown and Darling) for not guaranteeing pension rights to 125 000 workers who lost their entitlement due to financial failure of their employers. Not to tar the whole administration with the same brush; apparently the cabinet is deeply divided on the issue and internal critism is extraordinarily strong. One is left wondering why Brown and Darling are blocking the support and what their motives are. It doesn't look like the hallmark of a liberal-left government in any case.

If this is reminiscent to you of a potential bailout then that would not be incorrect. And then of course the Northern Rock bell might well ring again in your head. But for the common characteristic of potential financial life raft, it is the contrasts in the two cases that are far more illuminating. Northern Rock's rescue involves a sum so large that it would feature prominantly in the UK PLC's annual accounts (if such a dream of transparency were ever to materialise), the last time I checked it was not far behind the UK's annual 'defence' budget and approaching circa £30 billion. Naturally, the treasury expects (aka hopes) to get a sizeable proportion of this back. The other noteworthy difference in the two cases is the speed of response. The mortgage lender's failure was met, to the government's short-term credit (to be discussed further), with national emergency response times. As soon as uncomfortably long queues of savers developed in the City of London, swift action was required to calm ensuing panic and a stave off a self perpetuating, disasterous bank run. This is London 2007 and not late 90s Buenos Aires and we will not have the national savings stashed under beds thank you very much.

Back to the pensioners. The scheme to fund the payments of the short-changed 125 000 is undeniably paltry in comparison. And to be fair they should recieve up to 80% of their disappeared annuity. Note this is far from a new story and many have not yet recieved this. Why the delay? Why the neglect? Why the political risk to confidence in pensions?

Pensions are considered, in some qualified circles, something of a misnomer. The word originates from pendere (to pay, weigh) and describes a notion of payment for service rendered. Not sure how the 125k aforementioned bankruptcy victims would swallow that one. To some, including me, any confidence at all in the entire pension system is something of a total mystery. A complete conundrum. The deal is thus: you allocate a proportion of your wealth to an agent, that agent will invest that wealth on your behalf and then you can capitalise on it when you are in your 60s. The bonus: you can invest this money before tax and so benefit from that otherwise-taxed proportion contributing to compounding interest. In principle, this makes an enormous difference and is quite possibly one of the most important and least appreciated characteristics of (personal) finance. The catch: the money is locked away for a long time and during that time you have absolutely no control (beyond your limited democratic influence) on future government legislation dictating the fate or availability of your money. Put like that, the whole prospect starts to look a lot less attractive. But that invest-and-accrue-your-tax carrot is a big one. The purpose: a massive proportion of national wealth is locked in long term to either government funds or capital markets. For supporting economic stability in this way you should be, in theory, rewarded in your retirement.

And so on to the agents. This is either the government (i.e. state pensions) or private fund managers. It looks to me like UK state pensions are all but disappeared so what of the private sector? As far as I know (and I would love to be corrected here) no pension (or US mutual -) fund manager has ever consistently beaten the market over the mid - long term. This means, effectively, that the future pensioner is paying an agent a non-insignificant fee to invest in a market but that investment actually yields less that the market made itself over the same interval. The stockpickers are maybe not so hot at picking stocks or their fees are too high, maybe both.

In any case, despite the huge tax incentive, this all makes pensions rather unattractive to me. And I'm not alone. So I wonder why, in a story like the one above, the UK government may risk a system's already debatable credibilty.

**********************************************************************************

So, from pensions to another dreary, but more immediately-experienced matter of finance: inflation. And the oft-regurgiated (in the press, by the government) case of restricting wage rise to control inflation. It would be fair enough, if the implied relationship were known to be true. Any public sector pay dispute is invariably accompanied with a technocratically-sounding anti-inflation justification to limit increases below any decent level. The argument goes, as often sold by the paymaster or the analysis-starved subservient sector of the press and TV, that to overly support 'excessive' pay rises is to drive up inflation and so in the end batter the economy and increase unemployment. But the factors driving inflation are diverse and complex and to allude to this simple non-existent wage rise = inflation = unemployment relationship is nonsense. What of the evidence that wage growth fuels consumer demand and so is of economic benefit? What a surprise!

So the relationship between earnings, inflation and employment is not exactly thoroughly understood. For people to argue against a deserved, modest pay rise on the basis of inflation, as in the case of the current UK civil service pay dispute, is utterly disingenuous as they have no evidence that the legend is true. If the government cannot afford, for example, to pay the civil service more, then say so, with real justification, but please stop blaming the ghost of inflation in the cupboard. And will the media sector that joins in stop churning out the same groundless nonsense and maybe engage a more involved debate?

Strong inflation erodes the value of money, akin to accelerating your own death; making you less and less effective every day in the future. It is a vicious poison that has to be abated - and central banks have not been doing a terrible job of it recently. But to use a bogus threat of inflation on those who are owed a correct price for the services they provide to the state is simply wrong.

How often have you heard the same government or the same media accuse city bonus recipients of being such inflation supporting scourges? And it's not unlikely that when it comes to price rises in certain markets, those concerned are not at all uninvolved. In economically favorable times, firms are naturally keen to increase their prices as much as is possible to build profit. I wonder what this does to inflation? And, oh yes, energy prices. Which would you be more scared of: the price of oil or the Job Centre staff getting 2.5%?

1 December 2007

Seasonal Adaptation

It's somehow weird and especially amazing how we adapt to change; just two weeks ago I was complaining how I wasn't ready for winter this year - the effect heightened by the oyxmoron that was 'Summer 2007' [except for that amazing month of April]. So it was with much trepidation that I returned to Austria 2 weeks ago, for some undeniably wintry affairs.

I’d recently decided to have a bash at furthering my ski instructor training, having entered this different – and much misunderstood – world the previous year. As I am applying my newly-coined phrase of “temporary retirement” to my own life at present then it was easy to find the time. Given the level of training you get on these things, they are also definitely worth their reasonable cost. So, the twinned obstacles of time and money that so often get in the way were for once felled, and off I went. Back to Austria, the 'land of the bergs' as per the national anthem [credit to Alban]. At least that’s accurate; is the Queen of England and … where is she Queen of exactly? I forget. She’s more popular in Canada than Scotland. Good job I don’t have to do that Citizenship Exam. But in terms of anthemic accuracy, is she gracious? Sorry, going off the point there again...

So, I returned to the more correctly-themed Austria for more ski training. I’d done the first part of the Austrian system, known as the Anwärter (candidate) in non-winter 06/07 (spot the theme) and worked as an instructor in the beloved Arlberg, in St Anton. Was a bit of a dream come true thing really and at age 34 it was fucking scary. But that’s another story. This time I was going to have a go at the next level, Landeslehrer I, with the Viennese Ski Instructor Association, aka Snowsport Academy. Logical progression, fair enough. However, the system is distinctly non-linear – almost logarithmic really – the jumps between subsequent levels becoming ever larger and more daunting. Hence, yet again I was shit scared about what I was letting myself in for.

Many friends were delighted I was going back. Please try and not misread that, they just knew how much I got out of it and so were happy I was returning for more. Others also said things like, "ooo how lovely, enjoy the holiday". Enjoy the fucking holiday?! You have no idea. We are talking pseudoarmy here. Ok, without the shouting. And yes, with more fun. But it’s a difficult thing to describe; everyone has experience of training and examination of an academic nature, but the same process applied to physical capabilities is a stranger one, at least for me anyway. I suppose at least when you write an exam, no-one is watching what you write at the time.

Sunday lunchtime, cold and a bit dreary. Zell am See Bahnhof, Salzburger Land. It was November 18. Snowy. Already. Quite a lot. Compared to the previous season this was already fantastic. And I stood there, rucksack fusing with my back, coffin-weight dual ski bag (aka ‘Granddad’) nesting itself in the fresh snow. What the fuck? How did this happen? Only a few days ago I was still whinging I wasn’t ready for winter yet. But winter doesn’t wait. And even though I’d last skied on April twentysomething of this year (after a solid 4 months bar 2 days), the very thought of skiing felt so foreign to me. How odd is that?

Then, despite me remaining a relapsed smoker, something overcame me with a twinkle of a reminder of why I love this environment so much. I breathed. And noticed. Oh, the air, the clean, crisp, delicious mountain air. After months in a hyperpolluted environment such as central London, the first breath of this air is the respiratory equivalent of a long cold drink after a desert hike. You can feel the breathing, and it is simply amazing; a pulmonary orgasm. And then you, yet again, resolve to try and smoke less. Invigorated and feeling more positive, I dragged the kit on the bus and headed up to Kaprun.

What was to follow comprised ten exhausting, thrilling, sometimes almost gruelling days of fun - and all with an austrian german soundtrack; my basic german is good, but basic is the word. 6:30 starts, intensive ski training until late afternoon with a quickish lunch and then theory lessons all evening straggling dinner. Bed about 10, rinse and repeat. It's quite a shock to the system, especially as this was the beginning of the season. The leg pain (especially post moguls), best illustrated by trying to climb the stairs, only slightly assuaged by the observation that it was a universal problem.

But within a day or two, something imperceptible had happened; I was a skier again - maybe an instructor - again. I was loving winter, loving the white stuff, which so early in the season was floating out of the ski in reassuringly large, cristalline quantities. One day absorbed or embroiled in urban dealings and goings on, then so soon after automatically strapping on the avalanche beeper while still half asleep. It's like something latent lies dormant through the summer and then comes to life at the sight of snow. A kind of reverse hibernation. Amazing really.

As tough as the course was, it was in equal quantity incredible fun. The training was brilliant, pushing everyone to their limit but using new school positive encouragement technique rather than other more dubious protocols I've experienced in various forms of training in my life. I learnt a lot about how to get the best out of people while working as a ski instructor. An instructor's principle role most of the time is some form of practical psychologist, encouraging people to overcome their innate fear with a toolbox of technical tricks and movements. The more I think of it, the more I believe ski teacher training should be compulsory for all managers in every kind of enterprise. Face it, you're not going to get someone to overcome their fear on a mountain and perform their best by shouting, bullying or some other common, undeclared management technique.

The gem in this course though (and definitely my key to passing) was the people. The organisers and trainers were enthusiastic, inspirational people and generally nice guys. And my group colleagues were simply brilliant. Diverse characters, ages, nationalities but a great group dynamic. Everyone under pressure to perform, sometimes satisfied, often despondent and exhausted but all just bursting with team spirit and encouragement...maybe a bit of love? I cannot tell you how refreshing that is and how grateful I was to be in that environment. I've often had the delight of witnessing alternative group dynamics we all know too well in other formative or possibly competitive situations, so it's just a joy to see how it can be.

A shame it's not more often like that. So, who fancies a ski?

A final note about Ryanair's (actually excellent despite the banana yellow seats) flight to Salzburg. What is the deal with those scratch cards and "childrens charities"? Why is Ryanair’s new PA voice American? Offered for onward travel from Stansted: “We also sell bus tickets with television”. I didn't inquire about price. But before I mock the stewardess's substandard english, I remind myself she'd just done a 12 hour day. Ouch.