Posted:
Fri Oct 12, 2018 4:39 amby Caracasus
"So why does this matter? Forgive me here, but what I'm seeing - and what most Caracasusians are seeing here is simply yet another capitalist, free market economy on the verge of collapse as its internal contradictions surface. I'm sure our audience here has the utmost respect for the work your committee does to keep trade flowing between Caracasus and the rest of the world, but exactly why should our communes throw their support behind measures that undermine and contradict our own nation's economic models? If you'll excuse me for being blunt, why should I care if I can't have Yohannesian imported grapefruit for breakfast?"
The analyst blinked slightly in the artificial light. Behind her and the host, a holoscreen displayed a range of soothing, abstract images. Almost hypnotic, they moved about like Mandelbrot sets; as soon as it appeared there was an order to the pattern, it disintegrated, collapsed in on itself. All would be chaos for another few seconds before yet more patterns would emerge. She wondered exactly why it had been chosen. Surely it would be harder for the audience to focus on the discussion? Surely even the matte white wall of the studio would be a better backdrop?
"That's uh, that's quite blunt and frankly not entirely representative of the projected effects of these measures. I'm afraid that a potential collapse in the Quertz would have far reaching effects across the globe. I'm afraid it's not just your breakfast at threat here, it's potentially much wider in scope than that."
She sipped water. The interviewer at least had the decency to allow her time to collect her thoughts before she began again. She was on firmer ground here. Knowingly or not, he'd fed her a line that worked perfectly with the notes she had prepared.
"Sixty, even seventy years ago we had no real need to trouble ourselves with the economic fortunes or misfortunes of our less... our differently aligned trading partners. A tractor assembled in Caracasus would contain perhaps sixty parts from three countries. Now though? A modern Caracaususian harvester may contain anywhere up to two thousand components sourced from sixty to eighty countries alone. Virtual Intelligence interface programmed by Boani engineers, milled steel from Cedoria, electronic circuitry from Balagan... most of it bought to Quoris via Yohannesian transporters. We are no longer in a position where we can safely trade with our more ideologically similar allies and ignore the rest of the world. Yohannesian problems become our problems, and vice versa."
"But still, as close as relations between Caracasus and Yohennes are, there's no denying their economic models are incompatible with ours and frankly, at a very fundamental level - at odds with our own. Your plan... it supports the economy of Yohannes at the expense of some of our oldest allies."
She sighed. It was never going to be a popular proposition, though this angle of attack at least she had prepared for.
"Yohannes may be a capitalist power, yes - there is no denying that. However, Yohannes has not intervened militarily or economically in our affairs or indeed our international affairs. Out of all capitalist powers utilizing the Hypothetical zone, Yohannes controls by far the largest in terms of sheer tonnage and economic value. Should Yohannes falter and fail, the effects will be felt across our own industries. Everything from agricultural machinery to war planes will feel the burden. You may not like it, your audience may not like it but in this age we are interconnected with a wide range of global and regional powers on a fundamental level. Our committee's proposal is very modest and very straightforward. We increase expenditure and imports from Yohannesian firms and companies into the Hypothetical zone. Are we supporting a capitalist economy? We are. What we are also doing is protecting Caracasusian communes and ensuring a degree of international stability. We have supported far worse powers for far more trivial reasons."
Posted:
Tue Oct 16, 2018 1:41 amby Caracasus
Caracasusian Cultural Exchange Centre - Royal Alexandria
Kein pushed hard on the heavy wooden door until it slid slowly open. Stepping inside, he pushed down the hood of his jacket. The muffled buzz and hum of activity became louder, more focused. He made his way to the reception area and rang the bell. A tired receptionist directed him down a maze of corridors, criss crossing buildings and centuries in architectural style and design. Down one corridor, wide plate glass gave a view of a courtyard that somehow - apparently defying the laws of architecture and indeed physics - vanished down the next corridor lined with small, badly painted sash windows.
Banners and artwork adorned the community hub. Here was a banner donated by the Caracasusian Dockworkers Union on the commencement of some historical strike action or another, there a bust of the founder of a labour movement that had become incorporated within the Social Democratic Party. Upon the wall a striking painting of a young man in a hooded sweatshirt. In one hand he held a butterfly knife, in the other a can of chicken soup. Kein was certain he was missing some cultural context that would illuminate the artwork for him.
The man who greeted him smiled warmly and led him deeper into the building. Eventually - in spite of the fact the room itself was not labeled in any way that Kein could figure out - they clearly reached the right place. Inside three teenagers were occupied, sitting around one holoprojector.
"Oi, you lot - you know the rules, this room's off limits during weekdays."
Two of the went to pack their bags, the other looked at Kein and the man with that perfected teenage gaze that seemed to convey hostility and embarrasment at being forced to interact with anyone over the age of twenty five.
"No way, it's our centre too. We paid our fees, so why do you get the room just because?"
The man smiled, his tone changed slightly. "Well sunshine, firstly because the man I am standing next to is a Caracasusian attache, the ones that own the lease to this place and sec..."
"I thought communists didn't own stuff?"
"Secondly, you haven't paid your fees, have you? Now, sooner or later I'm going to have a conversation with your mum and your nan about that, and what you might have been spending that money on. If you lot don't clear out, that's my morning freed up. I might take a stroll over there now..."
The teenagers vacated the room as slowly and reluctantly as they gauged they could get away with.
"Eh. They're good kids really, you know? Just...."
Kein nodded. "Say no more. My nephew's into the whole Cajji thing at the moment back home. Photocopying banknotes and all that. Kids will be kids."
They got to talking, the Caracasusian attache and the Yohannesian Trades Union Councillor. Kein listened as the man spoke fondly of Carcasusian initiatives that had either passed Kein by or he'd questioned himself. The picture he painted of Caracasus was a little rosier than Kein's own memories. He'd yet to mention the various narrowly averted social and economic disasters, nor the failure of Trade and Industry to fully realise their dream of integrating urban and rural communes seamlessly. He'd talked with excitement about drone deliveries to far flung communes, not realising that in the early days of the scheme the system's rather buggy algorithm led VI would often dispatch completely useless supplies while forgetting to dispatch much needed food and fuel. Kein remembered his mother and father telephoning Industry and Trade several times a year after their tiny commune received orders meant for others. Still, it was to be expected he supposed, here was a man who had worked his entire life for a trades union, was it that surprising that he was willing to overlook the flaws in a society he looked up to? And hell, here he was, a refugee from a flawed utopia who had taken a position in a country so different from his own.
Since the proposal to extend and support trade with Yohannes, exports from Caracasus oversees had increased modestly. Industry and Trade would take money and likely invest it through the hypothetical zone, purchasing raw material, electricity and even the occasional investment in an oversees enterprise that fit their strict criteria. Privately, Kein thought it a mistake. Sure, Caracasusian electronics communes were contributing more thanks to the initiative, but Yohannesian stores and import companies were putting in orders below what Industry and Trade had predicted. Publicly? In an admittedly limited capacity he was representing his country.
Still, that was not the only reason he was here. Talks of closing the border to certain groups of refugees and immigrants and a strange, almost undefinable change in the political atmosphere had worried the Council Elect more than export numbers of the latest Caracasusian games consoles. He leaned in.
"So. How do the unions feel about Marion?"
Posted:
Wed Nov 07, 2018 7:15 pmby McNernia
OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE OF THE KINGDOM OF MCNERNIA
OFFICE OF THE CHAIRMAN OF THE IMPERIAL RESERVE BANKTo:Yohannesian Economic Palace
From:The Honorable Lloyd Andrew Macanarin, Chairman of the Imperial Reserve Bank
Sub:Currency Market Intervention-Acquisition of Qertz
Sec:SECRET
The Imperial Reserve Bank is interested in acquiring Yohannesian Qertz due to the bid to make it stable that seems to be working. HM Government is willing to pay in Mcnernian Pounds which currently stands at one pound is equal to 1.95 Universal Standard Dollar.
We hope that this will improve the relationship of our two nations.
L.A Macanarin, Chairman, IRB of McNernia
Re: McNernia
Posted:
Wed Mar 20, 2019 12:22 pmby Yohannes
Out-of-character information: McNernia, it was approved. I'll get around to replying in-character later (letter) :)
