Economic Models explained with Cows - 2008 update

SOCIALISM
You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbour.

COMMUNISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.

FASCISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.

BUREAUCRATISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the milk away.

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.

SURREALISM
You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more.
You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States , leaving you with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.

THE ANDERSEN MODEL
You have two cows.
You shred them.

A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike, organise a riot, and block the roads, because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called 'Cowkimon' and market it worldwide.

A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

AN INDIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You worship them.

A BRITISH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Both are mad.

AN IRAQI CORPORATION
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your country.
You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.

A NEW ZEALAND CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.

A FILIPINO CORPORATION

You have two cows.

One is reserved for the wedding of your son

The other one you give as bribe to your politician.

Cooking "bulad" in Deutschland

After 8 years of living in Germany, I had my first chance to cook 'bulad' (dried fish) today. My friend Tina gave me a pack of those delicious Danggit dried fish when we visited her and her family in Bonn two weeks ago. Knowing how the apartment would smell when I cook it, my wife gave me that "I'm warning you" look when she saw Tina handed it to me.

It was raining today and I felt awful and homesick. I thought a food kur would cure it. So I took the dried fish securely wrapped in a plastic bag inside a tin box (one could never be so sure when those Bulad smell suddenly comes out). I opened the kitchen windows wide, got the biggest frying pan in the cupboard, and as additional precautionary measure, I made wet a cloth to cover the lid of the pan to avoid the smell coming out while frying the fish.

But, tough, luck, all those precautionary measures didn't at all work. In a matter of seconds the bulad odour engulfed the whole apartment. My 9-year old daughter who was in our living room  rushed to the kitchen to ask what was the bloody smell (yes, she smelled it even though its door and that of our kitchen were closed).

"Igit, I'd never eat that, Papa!" were her parting words as she ran out of the kitchen. My 14-year old son uttered the same and immediately went straight to his bedroom.

"You don't cook bulad in an apartment building full of neighbours", my wife's first words as she entered our apartment door, coming home from work. The foul smell greeted her in our apartment's cavernous hall way.

"It's smelling like your cheese", I answered smiling but not convincing. I myself found the smell distubing.

Ah, it made me feel good eating my Danggit and rice at lunch. But I'm afraid it would be the last one here in Germany. Inside our apartment at least.