it fascinates me. I don't get it. It makes no sense. I have $46.91 in my wallet right now. Actually, it's on the table next to me cos I just counted it. $43 is paper, and the rest is coins. This is more cash than I usually carry, I prefer to debit everything-- I tend to keep a closer eye on it, whereas if I have cash it's like I've already spent it.

But what actually IS money? I don't mean the typical definition, that it's a medium of exchange for goods and services. What I mean is, how can it not be worth the same all the time?

For instance, I'm looking to buy a car. For the same price, I can get a hyundai Sonata limited edition v6, 2007, with 7k miles on it, navigation system, the works, or a 2006 VW Passat, 16k miles on it, and not much else. Why is the money worth so much more when buying a hyundai? Or my townhouse. It's dropped in price by quite a lot since I refinanced nearly three years ago, but it still has the same number of rooms, it's still the same size, and it hasn't changed location. And it can't be because of supply and demand, because there aren't all of a sudden millions fewer people in the world and less demand for housing. The house hasn't technically lost value, because nothing's changed about it (actually I put in bamboo flooring in March and did some tiling, so if anything it's gained in value). When petrol prices change it's not like all of a sudden you can't drive the same distance on a gallon. When milk increases in price you still have the same amount of calories in a pint.

And there's a problem with using words like value or worth, because they've become so linked with currency, which at the end of the day has no intrinsic value of its own. Money is just a matter of geography. I can't walk into a store in the UK and exchange US dollars for goods or services (cos it's not colourful enough), thereby proving the worthlessness of currency. 'Ah, but you can go and exchange it in a bank for GBP, and then it has some worth,' I hear you say. Fair enough. Then let's shift to a desert island (incidentally, they might have found the place Amelia Earheart and her navigator had to emergency land on and died. Just find that interesting, that's all). On a desert island, the money truly is worthless because all you probably care about is food, water, and shelter. Oh, and battery power for your iPod, because save us all from being left alone in silence. So the value of the money you hold in your hand, or wallet, or on the table next to you is only worth anything because of location. But if you have a pint of milk, or a gallon of water, it's worth something wherever you go.

And now on to our worth. Humans have, and are, and will continue to be traded as a commodity. It's a terrible tragedy, made even more distressing that it's still going on today in numbers we can't even guess at. But who's to say my life is worth any more or less than some poor bugger born in a slum somewhere, who works in a factory for cents an hour? It's still the same length hour. I just don't get how we arrive at our estimates of value, and who gets to dictate it. As far as I'm concerned, Baseball players are worth less than a waitress working at Denny's. I have more use for the waitress, because she's going to bring me my Moons over my Hammy, but the chances are she makes minimum wage. The baseball player is worthless to me, yet he makes millions. I'm guilty of this too, though. I fix more value on myself, on my own time, because of my education, time put in learning the skills I need for my job, and so on and so forth. But again that's a matter of location. I doubt if I was on a desert island somewhere the ability to change out a brake contactor would be worth anything.

So yeah, who gets to dictate that this is worth more than that, and they should have more than them? Because I'd like some more, please, so I can buy that car.

And I've never actually ordered Moons over my Hammy, I just like the name.