Russia vs. Adam Smith, Karl Marx, and Thomas Paine

'All that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold'

What is value? It's clearly not from the usefulness of an item, otherwise water would be much more expensive than diamonds. Karl Marx claimed that value stemmed from the 'only thing common' to all commodities-the labor that goes into producing them. Adam Smith claimed that value stemmed from whatever people demanded of that commodity (scarcity). The latter theory is currently winning in most economist's minds as the more likely source of value. Yet, here in Moscow, there are price discrepancies that seem to defy either of those claims.

Diary of a Madman...a different madman. this one's about Gogol.

On Saturday I went to my first Russian play (I've been to a few in Ukraine), appropriately it was written by Gogol (a Ukrainian). If you've never read anything of Gogol, you really ought to. His stuff is very bizarre, but in an absolutely delightful way. The story of the play is that of the slow descent into madness of a low ranking official in St. Petersburg after he falls for a girl who barely knows he exists. The only way he is able to find greatness in life is through his delusional fantasies of becoming the king of Spain. I certainly can't relate to that even a little bit (quiet Drinky, you'll spoil everything! (that was an inside joke, if you're lucky, someday I'll let you in on it).

The television, that insidious beast, that Medusa which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little. -Ray Bradbury

I was raised by two loving parents and an equally loving glowing box. It's not that my parents loved the idea of us watching a lot of tv, they just didn't have a chance. Picture the average night at the Carr residence: We've just arrived home from school, and Dad doesn't get home for another few hours. No matter how wily mom is, she's lost the fight already. We've got numbers on our side, and we know it. She might be able to keep a few of us in line doing homework, cleaning whatever crazy mess we've made around the house, maybe even fit in a tender parenting moment or two. But that leaves the rest of us little rapscallions free to wallow in the warm embrace of the television...teacher, mother, secret lover (The Simpsons). Don't get me wrong, I don't really watch all that much tv, maybe a couple of hours a week, but if you add that up over 52 weeks in a year and 26 years...well, you get the picture.