“We are Americans!”
Archive for the 'Deep Stuff' Category
Lehman Brothers, AIG, whose next?
Financially speaking … we are in the worst of times. But then again, isn’t this what we heard back in 1997 during the Asian financial crisis while the western countries laughed it up and bought up companies on the cheap? Now, the US is in its worst financial crisis- and no, Asia is not laughing. Why? Because our money is tied up in the US as well- both in terms of treasury bills as well as stocks, property and even Personal Loans!
After all, the “most powerful nation in the world” as Americans like to refer to the US of A as, is the biggest debtor in the world. And who are the ones lending the money? Everyone else … which goes to show you that yah, the US is the “most powerful nation in the world” when it can command such a premium for its bonds.
People, real people, have been hit badly and many are scrambling to get Unsecured Personal Loan to tie things over. Yes, unsecured because there’s nothing to back those loans anymore. No house, no car, not even a job. Is it possible, apparently it is. Which makes me wonder if this is the reason why the US is in such a crisis as it is now.
I like to keep notes of places I’ve gone to. I also like to keep tabs of little things during the day that I’ve done or I think is worth taking note of or has jogged a memory or provoked a new thought. I keep all of these in my trusty little notebooks, which I noticed the other day, is enough to fill an entire level in my bookcase. And that’s not counting the many notebooks I have since thrown away over the years.
No matter how hard my friends persuade me to switch to an electronic based journal, I just don’t do it. Save for this blog, I suppose. There’s something to being able to grab a memory from the shelves and to pore over it with a cup of coffee or tea in hand, with no artificially strong white glare shining back at you. Through the penmanship alone you can tell how I was feeling- hurried, jolting about in a vehicle, calm, serene, or with lots of time in my hand (doodles will abound).
Even the feel of the journals cover, the smell, or the amount of dust you need to brush off, adds to the sense of weight, sense of history, dare I say, sense of humanity, of a real person having gone through these events, caused shadows which lengthened over the years.
I wonder how our children will feel when they pick up such archaic objects of reflection when they now learn to type before they can even write.