Sunday night news, scant as it is these days despite the grotesque exertions
of over a thousand cable TV stations, showed the old familiar faces lit up
with crocodile smiles. The Republic was saved, surprise, surprise, by a
last-minute fugue of reasonableness, when all concerned decided that putting
the business-end of a double-barreled 20-guage shotgun in America's pie-hole
might not summon the spirits of Ronald Reagan, Santa Claus, Adam Smith, Chuck
Norris, and the Holy Ghost after all.
give thanks that it's over because now the USA can get on with its systemic
collapse honestly and fairly. Even though the debt ceiling extravaganza ended
in something like political failure, one point did seem to shine through:
there's no more money. Anyway, no money for non-bankers, and pretty soon even
the bankers will be out of money too, because their money is fantasy banking
money (sssshhhh, don't tell them) consisting of
hard-drives packed with digital slime trails of swindles and frauds. The
public can live in straight-up unvarnished fear now that they are liable to
lose everything they thought they had.
new depression is way different from the hazily remembered one of grampy's boyhood. There was no money then, too, in 1934,
but you didn't have to puzzle out the metaphysical workings of a
collateralized debt obligation to know what the score was. Your pockets were
just empty and the bank down the street was shuttered. The country had plenty
of everything except money: lots of oil, good farmland, manpower, ores,
timber, beeves-on-the-hoof, excellent railroads, dynamic cities, and
factories just recently built (only the orders for goods stopped coming in).
Yet something happened that still mystifies the viziers who call themselves
it all that mischief on Wall Street with the "bucket shops" and the
margin-gone-wild, and the shoeshine boys proffering stock tips to their
customers? Or was it some remorseless cyclical exhalation of history? Or was
it that plus the Keynesian monkey-business with interest rates and the
issuance of currency? Or was it some fundamental flaw in the workings of
industrial capitalism itself? These questions have never been adequately
answered, though there is no shortage of "stories" cooked up to
explain it - many of them elegantly entertaining.
own guess is that the industrial experience itself was a peculiar experiment
rife with treacherous self-amplifying feedbacks that the participants were
not prepared for, such as the rapid saturation of markets via mass production
at the colossal scale. Whoops. And meanwhile, everybody in China is living in
the equivalent of the 12th century, so forget about selling them radios. (Globalization eventually fixed that...or did
it?) To put a finer point on it, industrialism (and all its digital
offshoots) may not be a permanent feature of the human condition, but an
anomalous congruence of some historical events that had a beginning, a middle, and an end.
happen to think we're at the end of this anomalous era because we've run
through the material resource base. I know a lot of people eagerly await the nano-dawn of self-replicating bot Satori, where
everything we need is literally conjured out of thin air. The Viziers would
really love that because, at last, their models would work! Personally, I do
not hold my breath waiting for Kurzweilian
"Singularity." We'll be disappointed enough when Walmart fails to run on wind turbines.
now we enter an economic terra incognita of the real post-industrial
economy - not the Cinderella hoo-hah of digi-magic
advertised in places like Wired Magazine, but more like a Foxfire world made
by hand. We're out of cheap oil, cheap and good ores, ocean fish, good
timber, and lots of other things. All the stuff we erected to live our lives
in - the stupendous armature of highways, strip malls, suburban houses,
skyscraper condos, sewer systems, electric grids - is beyond our power to
repair now. We can only patch it, and that can only work for so long before
things go dark. (Can you sharpen a saw blade?)
money part is not so hard to understand. When the dynamism wanes in a
hypertrophic system, money can no longer be created. Real money, that is.
Money that means something, a trustworthy medium of exchange, in a system
where borrowers reliably pay back loaned money. All the current money fiascos
underway around the world, old and new, western and eastern, are just
dumb-shows put on to conceal the fact that money is not being paid back. Real
wealth is contracting - even as the smaller pool of remaining wealth moves
magnetically to the centers of power.
will never solve this American debt crisis. We're going broke fast and it
will be like falling down a long staircase. The federal government will never
recover. It will pretend to be in charge of things that continue to fall
apart, and eventually its pretenses will be seen for what they are - and then
it will be every community for itself. (The same can be said of the states,
and even the counties.)
troubles will mount more rapidly, too, from here, because nobody has been
fooled by the machinations in congress the past month, except maybe the
elected cravens at the center of it all, and many of them are in their final
years of lofty, well-feathered splendor. A debt rating warning - if that's
what it turns out to be - will be brushed aside, and for some good reasons,
too, but it is really a dark sign that our Republic does not function anymore
and is primed to break apart.
Howard Kunstler’s new novel of the post-oil future, World
Made By Hand, is available at all booksellers.