A super sized $192 billion
The Count is back from his Xmas pudding by way of the Sahara and New York. A little local difficulty with some gentlemen who took exception to an earlier blog made it advisable for the Count to make himself scarce for a while. Searching for the safest place on earth, he decided to entrust himself to the tender care of the Tuare. They have a noble heritage of plundering anything that moved across the Sahara, in a tradition that any true Cossack would admire. This, more than any specious complaints about the lack of water, may explain why the Sahara was so difficult to cross for so many millenia. Besides entrusting himself to cut throats, the Count decided that Colonel Gadaffi is just the sort of person who would ensure a country is safe for Russian Counts. True to form, all the locals smiled happily. Anyone who fails to smile in this glorious revolutionary republic is duly put in prison.
Returning to the grey grey English winter via New York was perhaps a mistake. The Count made several discoveries. First, US immigration officials do not have a sense of humour. Second, they are convinced that anyone coming from Gadaffi's hideout must be a nuclear terrorist. Third, the US is pretty useless at law and order. They have far too much democracy for that: they need a little revloutionary dictatorship, like the good Colonel in Tripoli. Or if they must have their democracy, then a little democratic dictatorship like President Putin would not go amiss. In any event, the Count discovered the Bronx is significantly more risky than the Sahara. He was relieved to get out of the Bronx having been relieved of his wallet and not his life. It was not the mugger's lucky day: he should have realised that all true aristocrats do not carry cash. This is to maintain the illusion that we have servants to deal with grubby money matters, when in reality we are constantly fending off impertinent bank managers who think we are obliged to repay the modest overdrafts we contrive to live on.
In any event, the Americans were up in arms about diabetes. Apparently about 128% of all Americans aged under 100 are going to have diabetes within fifteen years, if current trends continue. If current trends continue, the Count will go as mad as his Uncle Vanya after he bit a rabid dog. A cursury examination of the eating habits of the natives shows why this is going to happen. At the diner, the waffles and pancakes and muffins are sold by the storey. The food is piled so high on the dish that it is not clear whether you are meant to climb it or eat it. And then there are the vast gunk buckets of fizzy drinks which would be large enough for a swimming pool in most countries. It is mandatory for New Yorkers to carry these gunk buckets with them in the street, in case they should die of dehydration from the exertion of walking from the deli store to MacDonalds and back again.
In any event, they were all in a stink about diabetes which will cost them $192 billion a year by 2020.
At first sight, this looks like a classic meadow mayonnaise moment. Especially as this highly impartial estimate was produced by the American Diabetes Association, which has a wholly altruistic interest in drumming up as much money as possible to spend on giving its staff offices, nice salaries, a retirement fund and as many gunk buckets and food mountains as possible.
Look a little closer and you in fact spot that the Americans are losing it. The champions of super sizing everything have failed to super size the costs of being super sized and getting diabetes. They have failed to include the cost of undiagnosed diabetes: any attorney worth his salt would show that already at least 100% of Americans must be suffering from undiagnosed diabetes. Have you ever felt tired and listless? It must be diabetes: pass the compensation claim and make me rich please. They have also failed to cost in the "pain and suffering" of diabetes victims (that must be worth a few billion per person with a decent lawyer) and the cost of informal care and support by friends and family. The cost should be in the trillions. What is happening to America? Can't they supersize a half decent legal claim any more?
The Count began to yearn for the muddling incompetence of Britain in a cold, grey winter.
Returning to the grey grey English winter via New York was perhaps a mistake. The Count made several discoveries. First, US immigration officials do not have a sense of humour. Second, they are convinced that anyone coming from Gadaffi's hideout must be a nuclear terrorist. Third, the US is pretty useless at law and order. They have far too much democracy for that: they need a little revloutionary dictatorship, like the good Colonel in Tripoli. Or if they must have their democracy, then a little democratic dictatorship like President Putin would not go amiss. In any event, the Count discovered the Bronx is significantly more risky than the Sahara. He was relieved to get out of the Bronx having been relieved of his wallet and not his life. It was not the mugger's lucky day: he should have realised that all true aristocrats do not carry cash. This is to maintain the illusion that we have servants to deal with grubby money matters, when in reality we are constantly fending off impertinent bank managers who think we are obliged to repay the modest overdrafts we contrive to live on.
In any event, the Americans were up in arms about diabetes. Apparently about 128% of all Americans aged under 100 are going to have diabetes within fifteen years, if current trends continue. If current trends continue, the Count will go as mad as his Uncle Vanya after he bit a rabid dog. A cursury examination of the eating habits of the natives shows why this is going to happen. At the diner, the waffles and pancakes and muffins are sold by the storey. The food is piled so high on the dish that it is not clear whether you are meant to climb it or eat it. And then there are the vast gunk buckets of fizzy drinks which would be large enough for a swimming pool in most countries. It is mandatory for New Yorkers to carry these gunk buckets with them in the street, in case they should die of dehydration from the exertion of walking from the deli store to MacDonalds and back again.
In any event, they were all in a stink about diabetes which will cost them $192 billion a year by 2020.
At first sight, this looks like a classic meadow mayonnaise moment. Especially as this highly impartial estimate was produced by the American Diabetes Association, which has a wholly altruistic interest in drumming up as much money as possible to spend on giving its staff offices, nice salaries, a retirement fund and as many gunk buckets and food mountains as possible.
Look a little closer and you in fact spot that the Americans are losing it. The champions of super sizing everything have failed to super size the costs of being super sized and getting diabetes. They have failed to include the cost of undiagnosed diabetes: any attorney worth his salt would show that already at least 100% of Americans must be suffering from undiagnosed diabetes. Have you ever felt tired and listless? It must be diabetes: pass the compensation claim and make me rich please. They have also failed to cost in the "pain and suffering" of diabetes victims (that must be worth a few billion per person with a decent lawyer) and the cost of informal care and support by friends and family. The cost should be in the trillions. What is happening to America? Can't they supersize a half decent legal claim any more?
The Count began to yearn for the muddling incompetence of Britain in a cold, grey winter.
posted by Count Kostov at
3:49 pm
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