Recent Publications
The Softer Side

Artist: Tomoko Ikeda
Title: Pensive Traveler
Owner: moi

I'm a total fan of her work. I even made it to one of her Exhibitions in Ginza, Tokyo—I was the only dude who didn't speak Japanese (well, I speak some, but not enough). Check out her website. 


In 2009, she published a beautiful photographic book of her doll art collection, Scenery of Time.

DEBTOR NATION

National Debt 1960-2011

MY NEW BOOK....

How I lost my moorings in Tokyo. Read Chapters 1 & 2.

@Ronnie_Baker: Genuinely funny, entertaining & well written. Highly recommended.

@lothisoft: Great read, got very sad towards the end but what a fantastic finish. Are you writing a sequel?

Buy it at Amazon.com

 

 

Chapter 1 ♦ AIRMAIL FROM AFTERLIFE

1976

One rainy summer day, I packed my backpack and went to America. I was seventeen. I knew what I was doing: I was escaping from the debacle at home. And I was looking for something. For what exactly, I didn’t know, but I’d go look for it in America. There, the heat burned in my nostrils. Lawns were brown. Cars were big and air-conditioned. Girls went gaga over my accent. Guys thought I was cool. And I fell in love with it all.
          Three years later, I was paying my way through college in Texas when the notion of home, distant and convoluted as it had become, blew up with gratuitous violence. A Boeing had crashed into a mountain in Turkey, killing all 155 people aboard. I heard about it on the radio. But I didn’t connect the dots.
          A few days later, I found a message from the operator in my campus PO Box. Telegram, call Western Union, it said. I called from one of the pay phones. My heart was pounding in my temples, and I had trouble hearing the lady on the other end.
          “I’d read it to you,” she said. “But it’s in German. I think you better come by and get it.”
          “I’m fixing to go to work. Can’t you try to read it to me?”
          “Oh dear.”
          “Is it long?”
          “Two lines.”
          “Can you spell it?”
          “Well, I guess I could. Are you ready?”
          I pulled out a notepad and pen. “Ready,” I said, though I knew that I wasn’t ready, that I’d never be ready for whatever she was about to spell.
          “E-L-T-E-R-N new word,” she said, “A-M new word M-O-N-T-A-G new word M-I-T new word F-L-U-G-Z-E-U-G new word I-N new word D-E-R new word T-U-R-K-E-I—”
          “Stop! Please.” I couldn’t write anymore. Parents on Monday with plane in Turkey.... German sentences, even in abbreviated telegram style, had the main verb at the end, but I didn’t want to hear the main verb, didn’t want to hear it spelled out letter by torturous letter. “Thank you. That’s enough.”
          I’d escaped the debacle at home and had gone as far away as possible. But this wasn’t what I’d had in mind. I stood there in a daze, brain deadlocked, numb, clutching the receiver, drowning in abysmal emotions.
          Then I went to work. It was just a part-time job, but now I needed the money more than ever. Afterward, I drove to the Western Union office and picked up the yellow slip of paper with twelve lines of all-caps alphanumeric gibberish and two lines of readable text. It was from my sister, sent from the town where she was staying with friends. But it didn’t include their phone number. And my brother was on vacation somewhere. So there was no way to reach him either.

Next....

TESTOSTERONE PIT, the novel

Wolf Richter

Chapter 1    Circle Jerk

It was Saturday, the biggest day of the week, and everyone was working bell to bell, over forty salesmen, though Ferronickel didn’t know exactly how many he had because some hadn’t shown up and might have started selling cars some other place, and because he’d hired a bunch of new guys an hour ago.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he sang in a basso profundo voice as he marched across the showroom in his asymmetric gait. He was the general sales manager at the Ford Superstore. His Tabasco Sauce tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned. His gut that hung over his belt strained his shirt. He had puffy eyes and was full of mean energy, ready to explode, ready to force things to happen. He blew out the door, came to a halt on the porch that surrounded the showroom on three sides, and lit a cigarette.

Al Millikin, one of his four sales managers and perhaps the best closer in town, was watching Mad Boxer work a customer on the truck lot. Potential deal.

“Why can’t he bring that guy inside and write him up?” Ferronickel said.

“He ought to tell him we got free pussy on the showroom,” Millikin said.

“Don’t give me any ideas for our next live remote.”

“Come to think of it, that would be a hell of a lot more effective than the classical rock-and-roll shit we’ve been doing.”

“For our male customers.”

“We could alternate. Free pussy one day, free Godiva chocolates the next. We’d have both ends of the spectrum covered.”

“You’re a fucking Einstein, Millikin.”

Reginald Pierce, another sales manager, a big guy with a shortish Afro, was jumpy and his eyes darted about. He fretted about Whacker Packer, Hackman Jones, JoAnn Delouche, and several other salesmen who’d formed a dope ring by the plate-glass window. If left alone, they’d make up rumors, complain about dealership coffee, and infect each other with morale problems. He singled out a young guy.

“Freddie T, are you going to participate in a circle jerk?” he growled. They called him Freddie T because of his unpronounceable Greek last name. “Or are you going to sell something?”

It startled them; they’d forgotten all about selling. And they drifted apart.

Lou Massago gesticulated on the phone in one of the closing booths. He wore a white button-down shirt, a red and blue tie, slacks, and ostrich-skin boots. A scar curved upward from the right corner of his mouth, giving him a lopsided grin even when he was serious. His eyes were set close together and peered out from under his bushy eyebrows with ferocious intensity. But he had a soft voice when he wanted to, and now he wanted to because he was talking to a customer about a 15-passenger van that had come out of the rental fleet. There were ten of them. They were scratched and dented and had too many miles on them, and they were overpriced, and no one could sell them, but he was king of sales, and if he could sell them, it would prove he could sell anything.

He hated working the phone. He needed his customers in front of him, needed to stare into the whites of their eyes. But no one had sold any of those vans yet, and to prove he was king of sales and could sell anything, he’d decided to sell them all. Besides, the Saturday rush hadn’t begun yet, and calling old customers was more productive than standing around waiting for something to happen.

Next....

« California’s Search For The Missing Moolah | Main | 'They should Revolt' »
Monday
Feb272012

German Unemployment Obfuscation

One of the hardest things to get in this world is a truthful, or at least a somewhat realistic, or at the very least a not totally fabricated unemployment number, but every country has its own bureaucratic madness in pursuing obfuscation. And Germany is no exception. Official unemployment—3,081,706 unemployed and an unemployment rate of 7.3%—dropped to a two-decade low in January, but a recreational dive into the Federal Labor Agency’s monthly report (Monatsbericht) reveals another story.

The numbers were touted by politicians in the governing coalition, from Chancellor Angela Merkel on down, amid media hyperventilation about Germany's superior economic model, though dark clouds have already appeared. Read.... “German Success Recipe” or Blip?

Even French President Nicolas Sarkozy, who is struggling to hang on to his job for another five years, is obsessed with Germany’s mysterious success in bringing down its unemployment rate and can’t help but mentioning it every time he speaks about fixing the French economy. But the Federal Labor Agency’s monthly report reveals many pages into it—surprise, surprise—that the headline numbers issued with unrounded Teutonic precision have only a tenuous relationship with reality.

Turns out, certain groups of unemployed people are systematically excluded from the official unemployment numbers, though they’re listed in the monthly report and are known—unlike the inscrutable statistical adjustments meted out in the bowels of the US Bureau of Labor Statistics. On second thought, statistical adjustments must also be taking place in Germany because the numbers still don’t add up. These are the excluded groups:

- Participants in “select measures of active labor market policies,” such as obtaining qualifications and professional training: 1,075,004.

- Participants in “activation” and “job integration” programs: 127,742

- Those in “preretirement-like ruling (special status)”: 106,973

- Participants in government-paid job training: 154,648

- People who are called in inimitable German, "1-Euro-Jobbers." They perform tasks that are deigned communally useful, such as clearing snow from city streets in Leipzig: 133,298.

- Participants in language courses, integration courses, and other programs that are funded by agencies other than the Federal Labor Agency: 72,513

- Participants in citizens jobs programs: 21,823

- People who are difficult to find jobs for: 9,533

- Unemployed who are temporarily sick: 68,202

In total: 1,701,534.

Added to the headline number of the officially unemployed (3,081,706), we get a total of 4,783,240. And it does not include the underemployed who are stuck in part-time jobs but are looking for full-time jobs.

Alas, in January, 5,394,064 people actually received unemployment compensation. So clearly, I must have missed a few categories.

But it gets even worse: People 58 and older are excluded from the official unemployment numbers, even if they're desperately looking for a job. They don’t receive unemployment compensation but, conveniently, pre-retirement compensation. So they don't count for the simple reason that they're too old to count. That’s the German baby-boom generation. They're turning 58 in massive numbers and fall unceremoniously off the unemployment lists. In September 2011, the last month for which official numbers were available: 374,592.

Add them to the 5,394,064 official recipients of unemployment compensation to obtain 5,768,656.

And what about those who aren’t eligible for unemployment compensation? While they receive “social aid” and other forms of support, they don’t count as unemployed.

So, like in the US, the actual number of unemployed people and the actual unemployment rate remain a mystery, despite the confidence-inducing but false sense of accuracy that these grotesquely unrounded numbers provide. And in the end, unemployment in Germany is probably close to double the official headline number.

But in the US, unlike in Germany, a hullabaloo broke out after the BLS reported that a surprisingly robust 243,000 jobs were created in January, and that the unemployment rate had dropped to 8.3%. Cynics, academics, BLS heretics, BLS true believers, hype mongers, and politicians waged a media battle over these numbers that President Obama serenely trotted out as validation of his policies. Even Rush Limbaugh jumped into the fray. But now, for February, a whole new debacle is brewing. Read.... Suddenly, a Sharp Deterioration in the Job Market.

Reader Comments (5)

The closest we will get to a true picture is the total number of \\\"employed\\\" versus the total population of the country, i.e. the % employed. These numbers are less precise than a true unemployment number but they are also more difficult to fudge. I'll take a less precise but honest number over an exact but fudged number any day of the week.

When you look at the USA employment % trend for the last few decades the truth is hard to ignore.

http://data.bls.gov/generated_files/graphics/LNS11300000_28209_1330442390918.gif
February 28, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterRich V
Rich - I agree that the employment participation ratio gives a better idea of what is going on, though it doesn’t tell you the ratio of people who want a job but don’t have one.

I have written about this this issue before, for example, “In the Bowels of the Job Report: 15.4 million missing jobs.” Here is the post:
http://www.testosteronepit.com/home/2011/9/2/in-the-bowels-the-jobs-report-154-million-missing-jobs.html

The question remains why governments go through such lengths to understate unemployment statistics.
February 28, 2012 | Registered CommenterWolf Richter
1. "That’s the German baby-boom generation. "

That´s wrong. The german "baby boomer" were born 1955-1965.

2. "People 58 and older ..."

IIRC was this an offer for people, who became "58" before 01/01/2008. We´re talking about people born before 1949, people who are now 63 an older.

3. "...even if they're desperately looking for a job."

No. They CAN (could) decide, if they want(ed) to get the higher(!) pre-retirement compensation. This offer was so attractive, that even a quite famous journalist had chosen to leave the public broadcasting system to "stay at home".
March 7, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterderherold
derherold - I don't know where you got your definition of "baby-boom generation." I'm part of it, and it started years before 1955. 44 people in my class in Gymnasium. Instead of 20.

"People 58 and older" ... look up the numbers. They're all there.

#3: Agree, they could decide. But the point is that if they couldn't find a job, they didn't count as "unemployed" but as per-retired, therefore understating the unemployment figures.
March 7, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterWolf
Well that didn't take long....

http://www.bls.gov/generated_files/graphics/LNS11300000_28209_1330442390918.gif

now shows:

Sorry, the page you're looking for can't be found;
/generated_files/graphics/lns11300000_28209_1330442390918.gif

Please enter a keyword(s) in the search field below. Or, try one of the links.

:-o
March 8, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterTheSpiritOfTheTimes

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