Catallaxy Files

Phil Jones February 15, 2010

I don’t think we should be taking much notice of what’s on blogs because they seem to be hijacking the peer-review process

Phil Jones March 31, 2004

Recently rejected two papers (one for JGR and for GRL) from people saying CRU has it wrong over Siberia. Went to town in both reviews, hopefully successfully. If either appears I will be very surprised, but you never know with GRL.

Peter Costello puts the boot into Stephen Conroy. While I have no problem with the government lowering fees, charges and taxes this Conroy decision does look a bit iffy once we consider Costello’s description.

Here is the senator’s genius: the budget is in deep deficit, the government desperately needs money, and this week he announced a tax cut worth at least $250 million. Conroy announced it, not the Prime Minister or Treasurer. This tax cut will be shared between three companies. Never before has a Sunday press release delivered so much to so few.

Normally tax cuts are announced in the budget, the result of the government working out how much revenue it needs and, if it can cut tax, assessing competing claims between, say, retirees or carers or … television stations. The stations won’t have to go through the budget process. Nor will Conroy have to argue why media owners are more deserving of tax cuts than the poor or struggling families.

If you want to know how valuable these tax cuts are, Channel Ten’s share price jumped 10 per cent on the announcement, delivering $150 million to shareholders. It’s harder to assess the gain for Seven and Nine shareholders as they are mostly private equity firms in foreign jurisdictions. But they have reason to be thankful.

George Graham Vest, a US Senator in the 19th century, delivered the following speech in a Court circa 1855. It remains as true today.

Gentlemen of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man’s dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master’s side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer. He will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth, an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.