WHEN I BELIEVED
that money should have value. You know, that old ‘be a mutually acceptable easily exchangeable ready-use store of value’ sort of thing. Real value, objective value. Enduring value.
It did/was, once, too … back when money meant gold and suchlike.
The world has moved on since then and money nowadays is either:
(a) very rarely seen, or
(b) never seen.
But don’t get me started—been there, done that—now quietly coasting to the finish line and hoping that ‘money’ doesn’t achieve its true worth in the years I have left. Brrrr.
is triggered by this article—
—from this morning’s New Zealand Herald (online).
When money was money (was too, once. Several times …) you (meaning they) couldn’t fiddle about with it. Not too much.
An ounce of (say) gold was an ounce of gold, end of story: it was the same ounce in the US or Russia or Afghanistan or Mombasa or Antarctica … (and fortunes could be made by the astute exchanging their cheap junky trinkets for someone else’s cheap junky metal).
Voluntary exchange to mutual satisfaction? Aaaahhhh … free market* …
* (Forgive me, Lords, for I have used a naughty four-letter word).