The enemy of my enemy is my enemy

Back in the 1980's I was such a zealous advocate of free market economics, even Adam Smith would have run for cover. Just as my socialist friends were convinced of an infinite number of rich people to tax, I was certain that an unencumbered market would lead us all to greater prosperity. I suppose to some extent we were both wrong. Even the Labour party no longer believes in the "infinite number of rich people" and the turmoil in the financial markets means I'd be brave, or perhaps off my head, to suggest that deregulation has been a total success.

Despite this I'm still a capitalist at heart though it's not always a particularly edifying sight. Greed is one of those unpleasant by-products that we all have to live with. I never particularly cared about fat cats on obscene salaries so long as the overall wealth of the country increased. Ultimately, I reasoned, if the fat cats got too greedy their business would fail and be replaced by something leaner and more able to contribute to the economy.

However in a bizarre twist, rather than letting the crap financial institutions go to the wall the U.S. government is preparing a rescue to the tune of $700 billion. This appears almost, dare I say it, socialist. True, there's no nationalisation of the industry but bailing out useless businesses use to be the preserve of British governments of the 60's and 70's. Has the world gone mad?

Actually, no; it's not madness… it's desperation. No matter how bad the business, how revolting the excesses (the head of the troubled Lehmann Brothers had a $10-$20 million bonus last year depending on which paper you read), to let a bank fail has the potential to collapse the financial markets. This isn't a case of the rich protecting the rich; if the financial market collapses then we're all screwed – businesses everywhere will fail, unemployment will be rampant.

Distasteful though it might seem; we can't afford to do nothing. But at a cost exceeding $2000 dollars per man, woman and child in the United States, it's one hell of a price to pay.

The kindness of strangers

It's been a topsy-turvy seven days. Last Sunday Mrs R was baptised at the local Baptist church. I was thus compelled to attend and witness to some rather unsettling behaviour. From the unsolicited random cries of 'praise Jesus' to those attributing their every action to the word of God, it was much more alien than I expected. But there was the kindness of strangers and the food was good.

The following day it was back to work where, thanks to some research on the weekend, I was well prepared for the Monday meetings. However the rest of the week alternated between delight and despair as I solved one piece of my development puzzle only to be presented with another problem. It didn't help that Mrs R was unwell and thus, despite working long hours, I was rarely afforded any rest when I got home. My work usually continued with washing up the days dishes before other domestic duties.

I started Friday with one last significant problem to solve - and I solved it. I even 'finished' the development. I emphasise the quotes around 'finished', because there is still some outstanding work before it can be accepted. There's the unit testing to complete and the small matter of tidying up the formal technical documentation; I don't think multiple scraps of paper diagrams, some with coffee stains on them, is going to win me many friends.

So I finished the week in a chirpy mood though it doesn't address any of those worries I'm steadfastly refusing to face. I'm placing buckets of sand throughout the house just in case they catch me by surprise.

Shepherd's f**king pie

I hate Shepherd's pie. I have mentioned this on numerous occasions to Mrs R, though I try to be more tactful. Usually I've said something along the lines of "I don't particularly care for it", or "it's not my favourite dish", but it turns out I've been wasting my time. I was asked to pick up some potatoes on the way home yesterday - never suspecting they'd be used as weapons against me.

Whilst sitting at the table, wondering what I'd done wrong, I was reminded of a similar incident I'd experienced as a child. I was once invited to dinner at the house of my best friend and was rewarded with a lime green mousse for dessert. It was possibly the worst thing I'd ever tasted and took me an age to force down.

"Did you like that?" asked his mother when I'd finished.

"Lovely, thank you", I replied - for I had excellent manners.

"Well you'd better finish it off", she said as she emptied the contents of her bowl into mine.