Money money money

What a frustrating but amusing morning. I was called for a 'Banking Health Check' by the Co-Op. It's not that long since putting my card into the ATM was a risky venture: I still start to sweat in the little pause between asking for money and the notes appearing. Too many times in the past did a semi-polite message inform me that my fervent prayers had been 'declined'.

So I turned up with some considerable trepidation. I may not check my statements very often, but I know very well that I'm rather fiscally promiscuous. I'm also - or so I thought - too young to worry about this stuff. So when a 23 year old started tapping keys and frowning, I started to panic. She asked whether I'd made a will (a silent 'grandad' ended each sentence) and I felt like someone was asking me for more pocket money. When the discussion turned to pensions I wanted to cry: my retirement date is now 2044, when I'll be 68. Being an SF fan, I've always wanted to see what the future looked like, but I was kind of hoping that I wouldn't have to be doing it from the front of a lecture hall. Cool and hip I may be, but I can't imagine that 2044's teenagers will see things quite as I do by then.

We went through my expenditures - utilities, taxes, bills, which was miserable enough: how do I become so encumbered and enmeshed? - but it was OK until we reached my 'discretionary spending'. Heads were shaken when we discovered that my water and electricity costs £50 a month: about the same I spend on books each week. Apparently books and music 'aren't investments' and my lack of insurance ('home? mobile? travel? gadgets?) 'isn't very responsible'. They were also shocked that I don't spend £1000 annually on holidays. They were very nice, but couldn't understand why I didn't want to pay £12.50 a month for a bank account which pays 0% interest.

All in vain - I declined to buy further products, and when I expressed an interest in savings schemes, we discovered that I don't exist: no Experian record, and without a driving licence, I have no standing in society. Never mind that I presented them with my Irish passport, or that I've been a Co-Op customer for 15 years: no car, no cash.

I'm a bad citizen. Another self-criticism session is arranged for next week.

Nuns on the run

Here's an intriguing story: how did some nuns (sworn to poverty) end up having bin-bags of cash amounting to over £1m, and how did they come to lose it?

They have all taken the traditional vow of poverty, so police and tax inspectors in Spain want to know why the nuns at Zaragoza's Santa Lucia convent claimed that a robber had stolen €1.5m (£1.3m) in cash from them.

The nuns' unorthodox banking system, using dozens of black bin liners stuffed with high denomination euro banknotes, has made investigators suspect that the cash they handled did not come solely from the Sunday collection plate. The fact that they later changed their story to claim that the money that disappeared while they were saying their prayers a fortnight ago only amounted to €450,000 has done nothing to allay those suspicions.

God works in mysterious ways. And so does his accountant. 

Sound good sense

OK, it's on Huffington Post, which is never a good sign, and it's about America, but Bill Maher has some wise words about the super-rich moaning about their 3% tax rise and public opprobrium.

We could do with some of this over here:

if you are earning more than a million dollars a year and are complaining about a 3.6% tax increase, then you are by definition a greedy asshole.

And let's be clear: that's 3.6% only on income above 250 grand -- your first 250, that's still on the house.

you should be down on your knees thanking God and/or Ronald Reagan that you were lucky enough to be born in a country where a useless schmuck who contributes absolutely nothing to society can somehow manage to find himself in the top marginal tax bracket.

Last week Mayor Bloomberg of New York complained that all his wealthy friends are very upset with mean ol' President Poopy-Pants: He said they all say the same thing: "I knew I was going to have to pay more taxes. But I didn't expect to be vilified." Poor billionaires -- they just can't catch a break.

First off, far from being vilified, we bailed you out -- you mean we were supposed to give you all that money and kiss your ass, too? That's Hollywood you're thinking of. FDR, he knew how to vilify; this guy, not so much. And second, you should have been vilified -- because you're the vill-ains! I'm sure a lot of you are very nice people. And I'm sure a lot of you are jerks. In other words, you're people. But you are the villains. Who do you think outsourced all the jobs, destroyed the unions, and replaced workers with desperate immigrants and teenagers in China. 

Republicans are holding America hostage to the cause of preserving the Bush tax cuts that benefit the wealthiest 1% of people, many of them dead. They say that we need to keep taxes on the rich low because they're the job creators. They're not. They're much more likely to save money through mergers and outsourcing and cheap immigrant labor, and pass the unemployment along to you.

Americans think rich people must be brilliant; no -- just ruthless.

Another of my favorites, Congresswoman Michele Bachmann said, "I don't know where they're going to get all this money, because we're running out of rich people in this country." Actually, we have more billionaires here in the U.S. than all the other countries in the top ten combined, and their wealth grew 27% in the last year. Did yours? Truth is, there are only two things that the United States is not running out of: Rich people and bullshit. Here's the truth: When you raise taxes slightly on the wealthy, it obviously doesn't destroy the economy -- we know this, because we just did it -- remember the '90's? It wasn't that long ago. You were probably listening to grunge music, or dabbling in witchcraft. Clinton moved the top marginal rate from 36 to 39% -- and far from tanking, the economy did so well he had time to get his dick washed.

We don't hate rich people, but have a little humility about how you got it and stop complaining. Maybe the worst whiner of all: Stephen Schwarzman, #69 on Forbes' list of richest Americans, compared Obama's tax hike to "when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939." Wow. If Obama were Hitler, Mr. Schwarzman, I think your tax rate would be the least of your worries.

Things are getting seriously grown-up

I went to the bank today and took out £1000 to cover my new flat's deposit and a month's rent. Instead of fleeing in terror from cheap-suited snake-oil sellers, I was trapped and stayed to listen, before gravely moving some of my book money from an ISA to a fixed-term deposit. It means I'll get enough interest to buy a second-hand Wordsworth Classic rather than actually owe the bank money somehow… all very scary.