Keep it clean!
I found this lovely big block of hand made soap in a shop in Korakoen, near Tokyo Dome.
Look at the colours man!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Ebisu night exposure
I like this picture. I discovered that my little digital has this long exposure thing for night shots - this was 1 second, hand held.
Monday, December 13, 2004
P041209_2151.jpg
Went to see Chris's band at The Fiddler last Thursday evening, December 9th. There are four of them now and more equipment, but whether the extra equipment actually makes the songs any better is open to question.
I think the songs are the core thing for any band, and if they are strong then they don't need expensive effects pedals and the like to support them.
I think the songs are the core thing for any band, and if they are strong then they don't need expensive effects pedals and the like to support them.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Ice Cream Bin Reflection Saturday
Here is a photo of a stainless steel bin at the ice cream palour in Seibu Department store, and as you can see there is a reflection of the three of us...
Nice ice cream... Kihachi, if you're interested. I had chocolate. They call it Soft Cream, rather than ice cream. It's the sort that comes out of a tap, you know what I mean.
But outside there was a flavour of winter - cold, cloudy and chilly. I wore my fleece. On reflection a sensible choice.
Nice ice cream... Kihachi, if you're interested. I had chocolate. They call it Soft Cream, rather than ice cream. It's the sort that comes out of a tap, you know what I mean.
But outside there was a flavour of winter - cold, cloudy and chilly. I wore my fleece. On reflection a sensible choice.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Rescue
The casualty figures from the earthquake, and also the typhoon, can so easily become merely dehumanized statistics. But yesterday the tradgedy of the disaster was brought home to me and all who watched the rescue attempt of a mother and her two small children, trapped in their car for the last 3 days.
I turned on the TV and almost all channel were showing live pictures of the rescue workers trying to reach those trapped in the car, which lay almost completely buried under large ugly rocks.
They pulled out the little boy, aged 2, and it looked like this was going to be one of those fairy tale ending they like to show on TV... but it was not to be. The mother was brought out next and was pronounced dead. I read later that they think she died almost instantly. Then work continued on trying to reach the little girl. That was 4:00pm and I had to leave for work. When I got home later yesterday evening they were still working... and they were still there this morning... As I write this at 12:30 lunchtime Thursday they are still trying to reach her, but it looks increasingly as if she is already dead. The Japanese news media doesn't not like to report bad news and so will wait until it is all over and the little body has been taken to the hospital and the doctors at the follwing news conference announce their news.
That little 2 year boy, Yuta, was trapped in that car under those rocks for 92 hours... When I looked at my own son sleeping peacefully in bed last night, not much younger than Yuta, it was just heart breaking and very upsetting to think of what has happened to that poor family.
This has not been a good week.
I turned on the TV and almost all channel were showing live pictures of the rescue workers trying to reach those trapped in the car, which lay almost completely buried under large ugly rocks.
They pulled out the little boy, aged 2, and it looked like this was going to be one of those fairy tale ending they like to show on TV... but it was not to be. The mother was brought out next and was pronounced dead. I read later that they think she died almost instantly. Then work continued on trying to reach the little girl. That was 4:00pm and I had to leave for work. When I got home later yesterday evening they were still working... and they were still there this morning... As I write this at 12:30 lunchtime Thursday they are still trying to reach her, but it looks increasingly as if she is already dead. The Japanese news media doesn't not like to report bad news and so will wait until it is all over and the little body has been taken to the hospital and the doctors at the follwing news conference announce their news.
That little 2 year boy, Yuta, was trapped in that car under those rocks for 92 hours... When I looked at my own son sleeping peacefully in bed last night, not much younger than Yuta, it was just heart breaking and very upsetting to think of what has happened to that poor family.
This has not been a good week.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
John Peel
I recieved an email last night with the line:
"Hear about Peel? Sad day"
I hadn't but some heart chilling dread tightened in my stomach. I went to the BBC News website and saw the news.
I really was stunned; couldn't believe the news; I thought he would always be around, never even thought about the fact that he might at some point die. I'm sure being able to listen to John Peel on the radio was one small aspect in my thinking of moving back to the UK, and now I'll never be able to hear his show again, or Home Truths. It really is the end of an era; an era that began for me back in the late 1970's, all through the 1980's; tuning in at 10:00... I can't think of another British public figure who I cared about or respected more than him. In no small way he influenced the kind of person I am today. I probably wouldn't be listening to the music I do if it weren't for him. I feel empty, as if I've lost something I can never get back; like a part of my life has gone, and in a way it has. He was a part of my youth and younger years. I now realize that I took him for granted; thought he would always be there; that he would be there when I finally did move back to the UK (or when I finally did get the radio working on the computer). But I waited too long and now he's gone; gone forever. No more Festive 50... 2003 was the last one. One less reason to go back to the UK? But it wasn't just the fact that he played the music that defined my youth; it was his whole approach to music and to life that made him such a great man. He was open, honest, loved life, music. He did what he loved and there no pretence about what he did or said, which is what made him so different from all the other Radio 1 DJ's, until very recently. He did what he loved and made no apology for what he loved, did it with passion and with a dry, self-deprecating and warm humour. He is a role model for living a good life that I would gladly follow. A well-rounded human being. A great man who will be sorely missed, by everyone and by me.
"Hear about Peel? Sad day"
I hadn't but some heart chilling dread tightened in my stomach. I went to the BBC News website and saw the news.
I really was stunned; couldn't believe the news; I thought he would always be around, never even thought about the fact that he might at some point die. I'm sure being able to listen to John Peel on the radio was one small aspect in my thinking of moving back to the UK, and now I'll never be able to hear his show again, or Home Truths. It really is the end of an era; an era that began for me back in the late 1970's, all through the 1980's; tuning in at 10:00... I can't think of another British public figure who I cared about or respected more than him. In no small way he influenced the kind of person I am today. I probably wouldn't be listening to the music I do if it weren't for him. I feel empty, as if I've lost something I can never get back; like a part of my life has gone, and in a way it has. He was a part of my youth and younger years. I now realize that I took him for granted; thought he would always be there; that he would be there when I finally did move back to the UK (or when I finally did get the radio working on the computer). But I waited too long and now he's gone; gone forever. No more Festive 50... 2003 was the last one. One less reason to go back to the UK? But it wasn't just the fact that he played the music that defined my youth; it was his whole approach to music and to life that made him such a great man. He was open, honest, loved life, music. He did what he loved and there no pretence about what he did or said, which is what made him so different from all the other Radio 1 DJ's, until very recently. He did what he loved and made no apology for what he loved, did it with passion and with a dry, self-deprecating and warm humour. He is a role model for living a good life that I would gladly follow. A well-rounded human being. A great man who will be sorely missed, by everyone and by me.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Gift
The planet is not built to a human scale, and sometimes that fact is graphically illustrated by an act of nature that blindly brushes away buildings, roads and lives like so much fluff.
Every day of your life is a gift, and as you may not be here next week to enjoy it, then enjoy and appreciate today.
After the earthquakes in Niigata yesterday, a lot of us here in Tokyo had better smile and take what Monday morning has to offer with appreciation, and then check our earthquake supplies...
Every day of your life is a gift, and as you may not be here next week to enjoy it, then enjoy and appreciate today.
After the earthquakes in Niigata yesterday, a lot of us here in Tokyo had better smile and take what Monday morning has to offer with appreciation, and then check our earthquake supplies...
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
In The Park
"Up in the morning and out to work..." as Chuck Berry might have said.
Another typhoon is on its way to Tokyo. This is typhoon number 23 for the season, and I say "Get your storm on!"
There is something humbling and awesome about these typhoon blowing through the city; having their way with us.
I love watching the TV typhoon reports: in hard hats and rain wear, clutching their microphones and holding the earphones to their ears. Then cut to a shot of office girls squealing as their umbrellas implode and become wire skeletons, which the girls continue to hold over their heads in the charming belief that any protection in a storm is welcome... cut to a shot of a small mudslide in the countryside... cut to a shot of waves pounding a coastline... cut to a shot cancelled flight passenger misery at the airport... I love it. I'm snug and warm at home with a cup of tea watching the fury of nature doing her stuff.
Anyway, it was a beautiful day on sunday and we went to the park for a picnic and a walk on the carpet-like grass of Shinjuku Gyoen.
Another typhoon is on its way to Tokyo. This is typhoon number 23 for the season, and I say "Get your storm on!"
There is something humbling and awesome about these typhoon blowing through the city; having their way with us.
I love watching the TV typhoon reports: in hard hats and rain wear, clutching their microphones and holding the earphones to their ears. Then cut to a shot of office girls squealing as their umbrellas implode and become wire skeletons, which the girls continue to hold over their heads in the charming belief that any protection in a storm is welcome... cut to a shot of a small mudslide in the countryside... cut to a shot of waves pounding a coastline... cut to a shot cancelled flight passenger misery at the airport... I love it. I'm snug and warm at home with a cup of tea watching the fury of nature doing her stuff.
Anyway, it was a beautiful day on sunday and we went to the park for a picnic and a walk on the carpet-like grass of Shinjuku Gyoen.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Last Chance for a Picnic
It was a lovely day in Tokyo today - the sky was blue and although the wind let us know what time of year it really was, it was quite warm.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Playground
"A thought can be significant. Can be the difference between someone living and dying. Think about that. And whatever wonderful things or banal things you may choose to do with your life, remember that the one thing you can know for sure, is that the choice is yours to make. The significance or relevance of anything that you do may never be known to you. That is why wise men suggest we try to make our decisions wisely. some people care about the impact they have - others don't. But perhaps there is a place for us all. The fact that we are here is, i believe, justification of our right to be here. We have free will. what we do with this life, these hands, that is up to us. "
Thank you for that Jaq, and for everything else.
Thank you for that Jaq, and for everything else.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
In Freshness Burger
It rained again today; it's been a wet autumn, after the long hot summer; things balance themselves out, in the end.
A couple of articles on the BBC today made me stop and think about the future, and as the picture it presented was way too scary to contemplate, I started running again...
A couple of articles on the BBC today made me stop and think about the future, and as the picture it presented was way too scary to contemplate, I started running again...
Monday, October 11, 2004
Marigolds
Gray sky today, unusual after a typhoon, we usually get blue skies and warmer weather.
Yesterday's typhoon certainly was a big one, the biggest to hit the Tokyo area for the last 10 years, they say. So much water in such a short time, where is it all to go? And there lies your problem.
About 5 people died yesterday and several others had their lives turned upside down - people who lost their houses and their homes.
It could happen to any one of us, any day of the week. Perhaps not a typhoon, but after that September morning in New York who know what the skies might bring.
But the Marigolds will keep shining.
Yesterday's typhoon certainly was a big one, the biggest to hit the Tokyo area for the last 10 years, they say. So much water in such a short time, where is it all to go? And there lies your problem.
About 5 people died yesterday and several others had their lives turned upside down - people who lost their houses and their homes.
It could happen to any one of us, any day of the week. Perhaps not a typhoon, but after that September morning in New York who know what the skies might bring.
But the Marigolds will keep shining.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
October Clouds #1
(I posted the one below last night but it didn't publish, so I did this one today, and then when I posted it they both appeared. Thought I leave them both)
The great thing about clouds is that they are there for everyone to enjoy and appreciate; just look up at the sky, there they go, like great galleons saling in a bright blue ocean.
They are never the same; they are always changing, season to season, morning to evening.
Recently I was trying to paint clouds and found it rather difficult. It's easy to fall into the childhood symbolic drawing image of a cloud - round, fluffy things. Like anything you draw the most important thing is to look carefully and draw what you actually see, not what you think you see. Draw what you see.
OK, I will...
The great thing about clouds is that they are there for everyone to enjoy and appreciate; just look up at the sky, there they go, like great galleons saling in a bright blue ocean.
They are never the same; they are always changing, season to season, morning to evening.
Recently I was trying to paint clouds and found it rather difficult. It's easy to fall into the childhood symbolic drawing image of a cloud - round, fluffy things. Like anything you draw the most important thing is to look carefully and draw what you actually see, not what you think you see. Draw what you see.
OK, I will...
Friday, October 08, 2004
October Clouds #1
I like clouds and recently I have been trying to paint them, but I'm finding out how difficult it is. It's easy to draw a symbolic, cotton wool round cloud shape, but real clouds aren't like that... almost nothing is.
One reason my first attempts at painting clouds were not successful was because I forgot that like everything else clouds obey the rules of perspective and of light and shade. I shall try again. I shall keep my head in clouds and my eyes to the heavens...
What I loved about the skies in England when I was there last winter was the (occassionally) blue skies, clouds and the thin straight white con trails of the high flying jets. There is something about those white lines in the blue sky... perhaps it's the sense of scale they give.
One reason my first attempts at painting clouds were not successful was because I forgot that like everything else clouds obey the rules of perspective and of light and shade. I shall try again. I shall keep my head in clouds and my eyes to the heavens...
What I loved about the skies in England when I was there last winter was the (occassionally) blue skies, clouds and the thin straight white con trails of the high flying jets. There is something about those white lines in the blue sky... perhaps it's the sense of scale they give.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Zebra Crossing
How to cross the street:
Keep your eyes on the signals, don't look at the traffic, or the street to left or right.
If the walk signal is red keep looking at it, don't look at the street. There maybe nothing on the street at all, in either for direction, empty streets as far as the eye can see. That is not important. What is important is the colour of the signal.
When the signal changes from the little red man standing to the green man walking then walk across the street.
Do not look at the street either side. The signal is now green and therefore no vehicles will come. They will not come because the signal is green.
Now live your whole life according to these rules.
Congratulations! You are now Japanese!
Keep your eyes on the signals, don't look at the traffic, or the street to left or right.
If the walk signal is red keep looking at it, don't look at the street. There maybe nothing on the street at all, in either for direction, empty streets as far as the eye can see. That is not important. What is important is the colour of the signal.
When the signal changes from the little red man standing to the green man walking then walk across the street.
Do not look at the street either side. The signal is now green and therefore no vehicles will come. They will not come because the signal is green.
Now live your whole life according to these rules.
Congratulations! You are now Japanese!
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Concrete Dinosaur
Isn't this one a Stegosaurus? With those plates running down his back. Wasn't that to cool his blood? Or was it for protection? A little of both I guess. Him and his concrete mates were in the children's zoo, but he is not to scale I feel; he should be bigger. He was bigger in Jurassic Park.
When we become extinct do you think there will concrete human figures, also not to scale? I think we are out of scale right now - we appear bigger than we really are.
When we become extinct do you think there will concrete human figures, also not to scale? I think we are out of scale right now - we appear bigger than we really are.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Large Plastic Ice Cream
I want one of these for my apartment; will I have to steal one? (I couldn't anyway) I'm sure I could buy one somewhere in this city. I wonder if they are only available in Japan? I don't remember seeing any in the UK.
Clock on a Pole
This clock was in the Saitama Children's Zoo, which we visited this morning. The zoo is one of those minor league type attractions. But the kids don't care because they can enjoy themselves almost anywhere, and the parents don't care because as long as it keeps the kids occupied they are happy and grateful... and it's much cheaper than Tokyo Disneyland, a true Major League attraction.
We had a good time though: the weather was lovely, the Lesser Panda babies were just too cute for words and the whole place had a certain amateur charm.
We had a good time though: the weather was lovely, the Lesser Panda babies were just too cute for words and the whole place had a certain amateur charm.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Self Portrait with a Bottle of Water
This was at 10:00 this morning, the sun at my back. The yellow brick road is to help the blind find thier way. There is no similar help for the rest of us.
Blue Sky With Cables
The sky above Tokyo was clear and blue this morning, with just the tangle of cable to block the view.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Recycled
I walk down the same streets every day and often don't notice the very stones under my feet. I wonder how many of us are sleeping walking through our own lives and don't realize it?
But how would you?
But how would you?
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Lemons
Blue plastic baskets of lemons for sale in a fruit and vegtable shop on the High Street.
In The States people call bad cars lemons. Funnily enough the French for lemon is Citroen. Could there be a connection?
Lemon is an anagram of melon... and vice versa...
Bobby Kempf, an American, consumed 3 lemons whole including skin and seeds in 15.3 seconds! He drove a bad car.
In The States people call bad cars lemons. Funnily enough the French for lemon is Citroen. Could there be a connection?
Lemon is an anagram of melon... and vice versa...
Bobby Kempf, an American, consumed 3 lemons whole including skin and seeds in 15.3 seconds! He drove a bad car.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
The People's Park
A few days ago we went Shinjuku Gyoen Park. Today we went a bit more local, to Hikarigaoka Park. It's clearly not as nice as Shinjuku and now I can forgive them all those rules if that's what it takes to keep the park as beautiful as it is.
It appeared as if all the things you are not allowed to do in Shinjuku Gyoen are permitted in Hikarigoaka: alcohol, bikes, dogs, music, playing instruments, games of all kinds, with balls, bats, frizbees, the lot. There were people having barbeques. But I know which one I prefer. Even with its long list of rules and it's 2oo yen entrance charge, Shinjuku is better.
There isn't as much grass in Hikarigaoka park even though it's just as big as Shinjuku, and the grass it has is not the luxuriant lawn turf, it's just rough tufts of wild grass and weeds left uncut, and with the dogs and the rest you never know what might have been happening on it? I will never make fun of Shinjuku Gyoen again.
But isn't this how fascism starts? The Strong Man imposes rules and more rules, which cuts crime, makes the streets safe to walk down and the trains run on time, but there are shadowy men in peaked caps cycling around watching what everyone does, and what you can do is limited to sitting on the well manicured grass reading a book or quietly walking around the tidy paths.
In the slightly chaotic Hikarigoka Park, were the rules are pretty liberal, there are people running amok with dogs, kids, balls and French horns and having a wild old time, but there are also homeless people, groups of surly looking youths, groups of tatty middle-aged men drinking from beer cans. You pays your money and you takes your choice I guess. But with a baby I'll pay the 200 yen and go to Shinjuku.
(I saw the cute little three-wheeled pick-up on the way to the park.)
It appeared as if all the things you are not allowed to do in Shinjuku Gyoen are permitted in Hikarigoaka: alcohol, bikes, dogs, music, playing instruments, games of all kinds, with balls, bats, frizbees, the lot. There were people having barbeques. But I know which one I prefer. Even with its long list of rules and it's 2oo yen entrance charge, Shinjuku is better.
There isn't as much grass in Hikarigaoka park even though it's just as big as Shinjuku, and the grass it has is not the luxuriant lawn turf, it's just rough tufts of wild grass and weeds left uncut, and with the dogs and the rest you never know what might have been happening on it? I will never make fun of Shinjuku Gyoen again.
But isn't this how fascism starts? The Strong Man imposes rules and more rules, which cuts crime, makes the streets safe to walk down and the trains run on time, but there are shadowy men in peaked caps cycling around watching what everyone does, and what you can do is limited to sitting on the well manicured grass reading a book or quietly walking around the tidy paths.
In the slightly chaotic Hikarigoka Park, were the rules are pretty liberal, there are people running amok with dogs, kids, balls and French horns and having a wild old time, but there are also homeless people, groups of surly looking youths, groups of tatty middle-aged men drinking from beer cans. You pays your money and you takes your choice I guess. But with a baby I'll pay the 200 yen and go to Shinjuku.
(I saw the cute little three-wheeled pick-up on the way to the park.)
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Acorns
From small acorns do big acorns grow... isn't that what they say about acorns?
All I know is that we shouldn't waste them - they don't grow on trees you know!
There is a global acorn crisis happening right now, right here, right now, and no one seems to care or even know.
You ask, "What can I do to help ?" You also ask, "Isn't it too little, too late?", and then perhaps you go on to further comment that, "What's the point anyway? I'm just one person in this big 'ol crazy mixed up world. Just one acorn on the grass knoll of the universe, just trying to get along..." but perhaps by that point no one is listening.
But anyway, the answer is simple - pick up an acorn, put it slightly under the ground (between 1cm and 1 meter is about right), wait 20 years and Bob's your uncle a whole tree of acorns!
Isn't nature just wunnerful?
Tomorrow , back to the grim reality of life in the early and confused years of the 21st century...
All I know is that we shouldn't waste them - they don't grow on trees you know!
There is a global acorn crisis happening right now, right here, right now, and no one seems to care or even know.
You ask, "What can I do to help ?" You also ask, "Isn't it too little, too late?", and then perhaps you go on to further comment that, "What's the point anyway? I'm just one person in this big 'ol crazy mixed up world. Just one acorn on the grass knoll of the universe, just trying to get along..." but perhaps by that point no one is listening.
But anyway, the answer is simple - pick up an acorn, put it slightly under the ground (between 1cm and 1 meter is about right), wait 20 years and Bob's your uncle a whole tree of acorns!
Isn't nature just wunnerful?
Tomorrow , back to the grim reality of life in the early and confused years of the 21st century...
Monday, September 20, 2004
The Park
We went to the park this morning. It was one of those days when you expect it should be turning a bit autumnal but it fact it was hot and humid. Deceptive September.
This park, Shinjuku Gyoen in Tokyo, has a list of rules as long as your arm, and then a bit longer. All the rules start with the word NOT.
Here are The Rules:
SHINJUKU GYOEN is the garden for all visitors. Please keep to the following rules.
Not to play with badminton, frisbee, soccer, ball and another sports with some tools.
Not to play with roller skating.
Not to bring any alcohols.
Not to climbing trees.
Not to play with music instruments.
Not to use radio and karaoke.
Not to use lantan with fire.
Not to collect any plants and animals.
Not to take commercial photo.
Not to feed animals.
Not to enter with any animals.
Now you know the rules, go and enjoy yourself!
This park, Shinjuku Gyoen in Tokyo, has a list of rules as long as your arm, and then a bit longer. All the rules start with the word NOT.
Here are The Rules:
SHINJUKU GYOEN is the garden for all visitors. Please keep to the following rules.
Not to play with badminton, frisbee, soccer, ball and another sports with some tools.
Not to play with roller skating.
Not to bring any alcohols.
Not to climbing trees.
Not to play with music instruments.
Not to use radio and karaoke.
Not to use lantan with fire.
Not to collect any plants and animals.
Not to take commercial photo.
Not to feed animals.
Not to enter with any animals.
Now you know the rules, go and enjoy yourself!
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Up The Creek
Here are some people in a canoe, without a paddle. They don't know where they are going, they just paid their money, got in and let the water have its way with them.
From up on the 5th floor you couldn't tell if they were enjoying the ride or not.
There was a little hill, of course, and a big splash, of course, and they probably got wet, but that's what they paid for. They paid for the ride. Maybe next time I'll have a go myself.
From up on the 5th floor you couldn't tell if they were enjoying the ride or not.
There was a little hill, of course, and a big splash, of course, and they probably got wet, but that's what they paid for. They paid for the ride. Maybe next time I'll have a go myself.
The Sign of the Three Pots
Here is some interesting graffitti I've seen recently around the neighbourhood. All the graffitti I've seen in Tokyo is just the usual boring territorial pissings type of a funny signature, without any thought or creativity. But this is different. It's three pots, and rather well rendered I think as well - the shading, the line under the rim, the placing and overlapping of the pots. Someone thought about this and practiced drawing it, and probably practiced spraying it before they committed it to a public wall.
I like the fact the artist hasn't signed it in any way, makes it all the more intriguing.
I like the fact the artist hasn't signed it in any way, makes it all the more intriguing.
La Rueda Grande
This is the big wheel at Korakuen amusement park. They claim it is the world's only centerless big wheel, some how appropriate for Japan, in a way I can't quite put it words. You can find it next to Tokyo Dome, a huge bubble of air where there will be no baseball tonight because the players are on strike, for the first time in the 70 year history of the game in Japan.
(You know, I'm taking these photos on my mobile phone? And what you see here is the biggest and best it can deliver. There are phones with 2 megapixel cameras, but I kind of like these postage stamp photos - working within limits can be interesting.)
(You know, I'm taking these photos on my mobile phone? And what you see here is the biggest and best it can deliver. There are phones with 2 megapixel cameras, but I kind of like these postage stamp photos - working within limits can be interesting.)
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Dented
This is the new Dentsu building in downtown Tokyo. It is 40 floors of glass and rises out of the ground like...like a huge glass cliff face. Ten minutes walk from here is the big fish market which rises out the ground like a big dead flat fish; it's a lot more organic than the Dentsu building, which is full suited ad guys having earnest meetings aboutthe best ways to advertise large amounts of crap.
The fish market guys sell fish.
There is no moral to be learnt from this. Some people do advertising and some people sell fish. That's it.
The fish market guys sell fish.
There is no moral to be learnt from this. Some people do advertising and some people sell fish. That's it.
Monday, September 13, 2004
El Grande
I saw some elephants a couple of days ago, in Tokyo, just fancy that, elephants in the heart of this most crowded and urbanized of cities. But there they were, 4 majestic, beautiful elephants...in Ueno Zoo. Not quite the vast sweeping endless savanah of Africa, but then again where is?
There is something disturbing about zoos. I incresingly find it unacceptable and distasteful to see animals and birds caged up in laughably (if it wasn't so depressing) small spaces. It all seems rather Victorian, but then again a lot of Japanese cultural ideas are that out of date.
Can zoos be justified by saying that the little kids love to see the animals and so it's kind of educational?
Go to the zoo and see what you think.
There is something disturbing about zoos. I incresingly find it unacceptable and distasteful to see animals and birds caged up in laughably (if it wasn't so depressing) small spaces. It all seems rather Victorian, but then again a lot of Japanese cultural ideas are that out of date.
Can zoos be justified by saying that the little kids love to see the animals and so it's kind of educational?
Go to the zoo and see what you think.
Kooky Canucks
I saw these two on the train this evening. I think they must have been Canadians.
The one on the right says," I heard on CBC that The National Transportation Safety Board recently conducted an extensive study with car maker Fords in installing black boxes in the dash board of 4x4 pickup trucks in order to determine the causes of traffic fatalites. They were surprised to find that in most provinces, 56.4% of driver's last words were "Oh Shit!"
The lone exception was the province of Alberta where 83.7% said their last words "Hold my beer and watch this!"
The one on the left says," Did you know that
Pamela Anderson
Shania Twain
Estella Warren
Nelly Furtado
Shannon Tweed
Barenakedladies
Keanu Reeves
Celine Dion
Avril Lavigne
Alanis Morissette
Peter North
Bryan Adams
Neil Young
Jim Carrey
Natasha Henstridge
Jennifer Tilly
Sarah McLachlan
Leonard Cohen
Kristin Kreuk
are all Candians?"
And the one on the right says,"Who's Pamela Anderson?"
Then they got off the train.
The one on the right says," I heard on CBC that The National Transportation Safety Board recently conducted an extensive study with car maker Fords in installing black boxes in the dash board of 4x4 pickup trucks in order to determine the causes of traffic fatalites. They were surprised to find that in most provinces, 56.4% of driver's last words were "Oh Shit!"
The lone exception was the province of Alberta where 83.7% said their last words "Hold my beer and watch this!"
The one on the left says," Did you know that
Pamela Anderson
Shania Twain
Estella Warren
Nelly Furtado
Shannon Tweed
Barenakedladies
Keanu Reeves
Celine Dion
Avril Lavigne
Alanis Morissette
Peter North
Bryan Adams
Neil Young
Jim Carrey
Natasha Henstridge
Jennifer Tilly
Sarah McLachlan
Leonard Cohen
Kristin Kreuk
are all Candians?"
And the one on the right says,"Who's Pamela Anderson?"
Then they got off the train.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
I Think
You know what I think? I think most people don't think, that's what I think. I mean think about it. It doesn't take too much thought to realise that this world wouldn't be in half the shit it's swimming up to its neck in if just a few of our so-called leaders took the time to think about things.
Train Shooting
On the train this morning with my one year old son and he was getting a little fractous. So I gave him my mobile phone to play with. He quietly opened it up and pressed a few buttons, all the time intently watching the small screen, just like all the so-called adults on the train. He then managed to take this photo and save it. Better than most of my efforts. I will have to rethink my approach to mobile phone photograhy.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Septic River
Spent most of the day in a small windowless room several short spits from this slow flowing slurry steam, "teaching" 5 drones how to.... how to....I forget what I was supposed to doing actually, but I was bloody glad when it finished and I walked back over this river and headed to the station and got the hell out of Saitama, anywhere is not far enough.
That bridge in the background is a Shinkansen bridge and every 14 minutes one of those sleek bullets hurtles past bound for somewhere much more interesting than anywhere I'm likely to visit in the next few weeks.
That bridge in the background is a Shinkansen bridge and every 14 minutes one of those sleek bullets hurtles past bound for somewhere much more interesting than anywhere I'm likely to visit in the next few weeks.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
view
Burning garbage in Shibuya
I took this from the office balcony. That chimney is Tokyo city government's answer to the garbage and the dioxin problems - burn all the garbage right in the midle of the city so the dioxins are spread evenly over the maximum number of people.
It would be like London have a huge incinerator behind Trafalgar Square or New York having one off Broadway. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.
kitkat
There comes a time in everyone's life (usually around 3:00 in the afternoon I find)when a cup of tea and a little something in the chocolaty biscuity department is required. When that time comes you'll find me down at 7-11 grubbing around for a Kit Kat.
Bad Yam Day
I let the first train go, well, I had the time to spare, I’d designed it that way. As this was the Yamanote line at 7:30 am I knew there would be another train along before I could finish humming the chorus from Lilly the Pink, and indeed that turned out to be true. There was one other person waiting next to me, he had also let the previous train go, also waiting for the next one in the hopes of getting a seat. When the doors opened some passengers got off and me and the other waiting person guy got on as soon as we could. He was moving too slow for my liking and took a seat opposite me. I saw a single available seat opposite the door and took it. I looked over the other guy: piggy eyes behind bad glasses, bad haircut and scarecrow clothes... “Bit of a freak” I thought, “Glad I’m not sitting next to him…” Pleased with myself I got my book out and opened it.
There are several things that can turn an uneventful train journey into an unpleasant passage of time trapped on a metal tube from which there is no escape. One of these things hit me in the face like a large dead fish soon after I started to read; it was the breath of the man sitting on my left.
What is it with Japanese salarimen and oral hygiene? What is so difficult about washing your teeth before you go to work? OK, coming home late in the evening everyone’s mouth has had time to ferment a bit – what with lunch, afternoon coffees and cookies and God knows what else. But at 7:30 in the morning everyone should only be 30 minutes past a good teeth scrub, and perhaps even a gargle and swoosh with the Listerine.
One thing to blame for this is the Japanese Salarimen’s habit of eating breakfast on the way to work, and what a breakfast it sometime is – raw onions and natto are the main ingredients of the oral crimes against humanity.
I could rant on for quite a while about the abomination that is the rotting and fungus filled beans called natto. The Japanese of course take a pride in eating something that everyone else regards as a failed experiment in chemical warfare, or putrefaction. One of the frequently asked boring questions Japanese is “Do you like natto?” The correct response to which is, “Oh no, I don’t like natto, I can’t eat it…” Which in turn produces a smug, satisfied smile of national pride.
Anyway, back on the Yamanote my neighbour was letting out the occasional sledgehammer mouth blast that would make me recoil and turn to the right.
When I did turn to the right I discovered I was sitting next to another freak. He was sniffing loudly, and it sounded as if he had a lot to sniff. A lank haired man in his late 20’s, he was leaning forward messing with a large tatty greasy looking black bag, from which he produced an entire box of tissues and proceeded to blow his mucus filled nose, and he blew and he blew and still the flow flowed.
I wasn’t able to concentrate on my book so well at this point. I was simply staring straight ahead of me and making the occasion side-glance to see what snot boy was doing. What he was doing was rolling up a tissue and pushing it up his nose. Perhaps this was the only way to stop the flow.
I turned away and got another blast of laser breath. I grasped my nose and held my breath. Why is it that all stinky-mouthed people are mouth breathers? Can’t they breathe through their noses and keep their foul mouths closed?
On my right snot boy was rummaging in his bag and brought out a plastic folder decorated with little stickers… oh no, what next. He opened up the folder to reveal postcard size photos of young girls. He was leaning forward, his shoulders round and stooped as if trying to hide. The photos appeared to be agency shots because I could see an agency’s name on each picture. Perhaps he worked for a talent agency and he was reviewing some hopefuls for a morning audition… perhaps. Or more likely he was some sad otaku who collected the cards and couldn’t resist flicking through them, even on the train.
At each station I hoped either, or better both of them would stand up and get off, but they didn’t. They stubbornly stayed sitting down, stopping me from enjoying the concluding chapters of Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure. I had a 28 minute journey, and even with only half of it completed I was buggered if I was going to give up my seat just because a couple of freaks were making things uncomfortable. My only counter freakiness is being foreign and I used it as best I could. It usually works for well for me – I sit there, reading my book and looking foreign and often people will not sit next to me. Great! I get the extra space and safety from oral odor attacks. But today, perhaps because they were there first, my foreignness didn’t bother them at all.
Finally with about 8 minutes to go stinky mouth got up and left but before I could shift over to his seat someone else sat down. The otaku was sniffing and snorting deeply and pouring over his photos. I got up and moved to the doors and a few minutes later I was walking down the steps at Shimbashi station, in a much worse mood than I had been 30 minutes before… I’ve got to reread Viktor Frankl…
I let the first train go, well, I had the time to spare, I’d designed it that way. As this was the Yamanote line at 7:30 am I knew there would be another train along before I could finish humming the chorus from Lilly the Pink, and indeed that turned out to be true. There was one other person waiting next to me, he had also let the previous train go, also waiting for the next one in the hopes of getting a seat. When the doors opened some passengers got off and me and the other waiting person guy got on as soon as we could. He was moving too slow for my liking and took a seat opposite me. I saw a single available seat opposite the door and took it. I looked over the other guy: piggy eyes behind bad glasses, bad haircut and scarecrow clothes... “Bit of a freak” I thought, “Glad I’m not sitting next to him…” Pleased with myself I got my book out and opened it.
There are several things that can turn an uneventful train journey into an unpleasant passage of time trapped on a metal tube from which there is no escape. One of these things hit me in the face like a large dead fish soon after I started to read; it was the breath of the man sitting on my left.
What is it with Japanese salarimen and oral hygiene? What is so difficult about washing your teeth before you go to work? OK, coming home late in the evening everyone’s mouth has had time to ferment a bit – what with lunch, afternoon coffees and cookies and God knows what else. But at 7:30 in the morning everyone should only be 30 minutes past a good teeth scrub, and perhaps even a gargle and swoosh with the Listerine.
One thing to blame for this is the Japanese Salarimen’s habit of eating breakfast on the way to work, and what a breakfast it sometime is – raw onions and natto are the main ingredients of the oral crimes against humanity.
I could rant on for quite a while about the abomination that is the rotting and fungus filled beans called natto. The Japanese of course take a pride in eating something that everyone else regards as a failed experiment in chemical warfare, or putrefaction. One of the frequently asked boring questions Japanese is “Do you like natto?” The correct response to which is, “Oh no, I don’t like natto, I can’t eat it…” Which in turn produces a smug, satisfied smile of national pride.
Anyway, back on the Yamanote my neighbour was letting out the occasional sledgehammer mouth blast that would make me recoil and turn to the right.
When I did turn to the right I discovered I was sitting next to another freak. He was sniffing loudly, and it sounded as if he had a lot to sniff. A lank haired man in his late 20’s, he was leaning forward messing with a large tatty greasy looking black bag, from which he produced an entire box of tissues and proceeded to blow his mucus filled nose, and he blew and he blew and still the flow flowed.
I wasn’t able to concentrate on my book so well at this point. I was simply staring straight ahead of me and making the occasion side-glance to see what snot boy was doing. What he was doing was rolling up a tissue and pushing it up his nose. Perhaps this was the only way to stop the flow.
I turned away and got another blast of laser breath. I grasped my nose and held my breath. Why is it that all stinky-mouthed people are mouth breathers? Can’t they breathe through their noses and keep their foul mouths closed?
On my right snot boy was rummaging in his bag and brought out a plastic folder decorated with little stickers… oh no, what next. He opened up the folder to reveal postcard size photos of young girls. He was leaning forward, his shoulders round and stooped as if trying to hide. The photos appeared to be agency shots because I could see an agency’s name on each picture. Perhaps he worked for a talent agency and he was reviewing some hopefuls for a morning audition… perhaps. Or more likely he was some sad otaku who collected the cards and couldn’t resist flicking through them, even on the train.
At each station I hoped either, or better both of them would stand up and get off, but they didn’t. They stubbornly stayed sitting down, stopping me from enjoying the concluding chapters of Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure. I had a 28 minute journey, and even with only half of it completed I was buggered if I was going to give up my seat just because a couple of freaks were making things uncomfortable. My only counter freakiness is being foreign and I used it as best I could. It usually works for well for me – I sit there, reading my book and looking foreign and often people will not sit next to me. Great! I get the extra space and safety from oral odor attacks. But today, perhaps because they were there first, my foreignness didn’t bother them at all.
Finally with about 8 minutes to go stinky mouth got up and left but before I could shift over to his seat someone else sat down. The otaku was sniffing and snorting deeply and pouring over his photos. I got up and moved to the doors and a few minutes later I was walking down the steps at Shimbashi station, in a much worse mood than I had been 30 minutes before… I’ve got to reread Viktor Frankl…
Friday, August 20, 2004
I went down to Tully’s and was lucky to get a window seat – some people left just as I was ordering and I threw my bag on the chair. A short ice latté and a chocolate chip cookie and wrote some journal stuff.
There was a foreign girl sitting at one of the tables and she reminded me of someone. She looked at me when I got the seat, but I’m not sure if it was a:
“You bastard, I was going to sit there when those people left…”
kind of look, or a:
“Oh, hello other foreigner, wouldn’t it be fun to talk to a stranger over a coffee for a while and then go our separate ways, our life lines meeting for a brief time, perhaps never to cross again, but fate brought us together at this time and at this place, maybe there is something we can share that will enhance our lives some how, and even if there isn’t it still interesting to talk to a stranger…”
Perhaps she was thinking the former…
As usual the place filled up soon after I sat down. I much prefer empty cafes and Tully’s was getting mighty crowded. I drank up and decided I had time to go to the bank and buy those dollars.
It was hot today, in fact it was bloody hot, in fact it was so bloody hot today that I can't adequately describe just how bloody well hot it was today, in fact I think the heat has addled my poor brain, so if you'll excuse me I think I'd better have a cup of tea and a lie down...
There was a foreign girl sitting at one of the tables and she reminded me of someone. She looked at me when I got the seat, but I’m not sure if it was a:
“You bastard, I was going to sit there when those people left…”
kind of look, or a:
“Oh, hello other foreigner, wouldn’t it be fun to talk to a stranger over a coffee for a while and then go our separate ways, our life lines meeting for a brief time, perhaps never to cross again, but fate brought us together at this time and at this place, maybe there is something we can share that will enhance our lives some how, and even if there isn’t it still interesting to talk to a stranger…”
Perhaps she was thinking the former…
As usual the place filled up soon after I sat down. I much prefer empty cafes and Tully’s was getting mighty crowded. I drank up and decided I had time to go to the bank and buy those dollars.
It was hot today, in fact it was bloody hot, in fact it was so bloody hot today that I can't adequately describe just how bloody well hot it was today, in fact I think the heat has addled my poor brain, so if you'll excuse me I think I'd better have a cup of tea and a lie down...
Thursday, August 05, 2004
So, August 6th, a notable for day for two reasons: first, it’s the anniversary of the dropping of the bomb on Hiroshima, and secondly (and more importantly) it’s the anniversary of the day I arrived in Japan, an anniversary that becomes more embarrassing each year.
14 years ago…exactly 14 years ago as I’m writing this about the time the plane landed (8:45am) Steve, Jackie and I walked out of the airport building at Narita into our first hot Japanese summer day, found the limousine bus stop and took the bus downtown. That first night we stayed in the Asia Centre in Aoyama. But I could only stay one night, not having booked, and so on that first day I found a room in gaijin house in Meijiro and moved there the next day.
As for the Hiroshima bomb anniversary, I have very mixed feelings about it. I don’t like the way the Japanese have made themselves into the victims of the war when in fact they were the agrressors, they started it, and they killed a lot more people all over Asia than died in Hiroshima. Also if the bomb hadn’t have stopped the war then, it would have dragged on for a couple more years, killing thousands on both sides. Of course dropping the bomb on a populaed city like Hiroshima ad Nagasaki was a terrible thing, but no more terrible than the Rape of Nanking by Japanese soldiers. The Pacific war was the responsibility of the Japanese military dictatorship of the period. All death, destruction and suffering can be placed at their door. It just goes to show you what a powerful force stupdity is when taken to extremes.
But that doesn't excuse the current Japanese leaders. They have put such a spin on the bomb that I think a lot of Japanese people now truly believe they were the victims of American agression. The Japanese have never come to terms with what they did; have never shown real remorse because they don't believe they did anything wrong. And that says something very disturbing about the Japanese pscyche.
14 years…I can’t believe it. I feel a little foolish at having lost control of my life in this way, or have I? Am I perhaps missing the bigger picture? I know I have ignored a lot of opportunities in the last 14 years, most notably the chance to learn the language. 14 years ago I wouldn’t have thought it would be possible to live in foreign country for that long and not learn the language, but I have proved it is possible, and that is an achievement in itself! Yes! … who am I kidding?
In 14 years I could have started several successful businesses (English schools perhaps), written a couple of books on Japan, completed a masters course or two, traveled extensively all over this country, wormed my way into several high paying teaching positions, had numerous exhibitions of my paintings (which I could have painted in the time)…etc But I didn’t.
But then again I know several people who have been here as long as me and they haven’t donethose things either. That’s not an excuse for me though – never compare yourself others, too closely, everyone’s circumstances, background, motivations are different.
Will I be here to bad mouth Hiroshima next year? Who knows. I would much rather be living in England, but England is England 1990 - the past is another country.
14 years ago…exactly 14 years ago as I’m writing this about the time the plane landed (8:45am) Steve, Jackie and I walked out of the airport building at Narita into our first hot Japanese summer day, found the limousine bus stop and took the bus downtown. That first night we stayed in the Asia Centre in Aoyama. But I could only stay one night, not having booked, and so on that first day I found a room in gaijin house in Meijiro and moved there the next day.
As for the Hiroshima bomb anniversary, I have very mixed feelings about it. I don’t like the way the Japanese have made themselves into the victims of the war when in fact they were the agrressors, they started it, and they killed a lot more people all over Asia than died in Hiroshima. Also if the bomb hadn’t have stopped the war then, it would have dragged on for a couple more years, killing thousands on both sides. Of course dropping the bomb on a populaed city like Hiroshima ad Nagasaki was a terrible thing, but no more terrible than the Rape of Nanking by Japanese soldiers. The Pacific war was the responsibility of the Japanese military dictatorship of the period. All death, destruction and suffering can be placed at their door. It just goes to show you what a powerful force stupdity is when taken to extremes.
But that doesn't excuse the current Japanese leaders. They have put such a spin on the bomb that I think a lot of Japanese people now truly believe they were the victims of American agression. The Japanese have never come to terms with what they did; have never shown real remorse because they don't believe they did anything wrong. And that says something very disturbing about the Japanese pscyche.
14 years…I can’t believe it. I feel a little foolish at having lost control of my life in this way, or have I? Am I perhaps missing the bigger picture? I know I have ignored a lot of opportunities in the last 14 years, most notably the chance to learn the language. 14 years ago I wouldn’t have thought it would be possible to live in foreign country for that long and not learn the language, but I have proved it is possible, and that is an achievement in itself! Yes! … who am I kidding?
In 14 years I could have started several successful businesses (English schools perhaps), written a couple of books on Japan, completed a masters course or two, traveled extensively all over this country, wormed my way into several high paying teaching positions, had numerous exhibitions of my paintings (which I could have painted in the time)…etc But I didn’t.
But then again I know several people who have been here as long as me and they haven’t donethose things either. That’s not an excuse for me though – never compare yourself others, too closely, everyone’s circumstances, background, motivations are different.
Will I be here to bad mouth Hiroshima next year? Who knows. I would much rather be living in England, but England is England 1990 - the past is another country.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Patrick didn’t wake much in the night that I remember but he woke this morning before 5:30 and wouldn’t go back to sleep and didn’t want us to sleep either, but we tired to. He crawled around and finally at 5:30 I got up and took him into the living room. We played and read some books for a while and then I got his breakfast ready. At 6:15 Harumi was still asleep so I gave her a call and she got up and took over breakfast so I could get mine and then get ready for work.
Left at 7:00 and got to Carrefour at 8:00. Sakurada came in and announced that today he was the only student. I groaned inside but smiled outside. Sakurada, I now realize because if the 2 hour we spent only talking to each other, has fucking awful listening and grammar. His listening skills were making me lose my patience with him; he sometimes couldn’t understand a simple, straightforward question or word!
Left just before 10:00 and was home just before 11:00. On the train I finished the Bill Bryson book (A Short History of Nearly Everything) , and what an excellent book it was, I can see a re-read of it a year from now, if not before. The final chapter was about the rise of humans and the destruction and increasing number of extinctions we have caused. It was a depressing thought to finish on.
I am becoming increasingly interested in ecology and life on the planet, diversity and the threats to it. I wonder where I should go with it? I’d like to do something to try and stop the destruction of parts of the planet’s eco-systems, but what can I do? I think if more ordinary people knew of the wonders of this planet, knew the miracle that is life and our own existence, the oneness of all life on this planet and knew what we were doing to the planet, then things would happen.
Knowledge is power.
The 19th and early 20th centuries (and before) were times of amazing ignorance and bizarre attitudes to the planet and the other living things we share it with. It’s only in the last 50 years or less that people have begun to understand about life on Earth, a lot of that due to TV and people like David Attenborough and the great nature documentaries that have been made. In fact he has probably done more in the cause of changing attitudes towards the environment than anyone else, at least in the UK. But the same has been happening in the USA.
I wasn’t quite sure what to write when I used the word "environment", because sometimes we make it sound like there are two parts of the planet: our part and the part where everything else lives. We treat it as our planet (obviously) and often refuse to share it with the creatures and the plants that where here millions of years before we were even down from the trees, or even before we decided to go up the trees in the first place. Because we can’t think in terms of the vast stretches of time the Earth works to, we tend to regard things in terms of human time, and so 3,000 years is seen as a very long time, when in reality it’s not. We kind of think we have been here for a long time, but we haven’t. Also we think that all the history and the Earth and evolution was building up to us and we are the pinnacle of the process and the end. Another big mistake that create the dangerous attitude that we own the place and everything on it.
I wonder if nature has something in store for us? A little balancing things out. We are just the fleas on the Earth’s back and one day the earth will scratch or jump into a river and we will be gone. All species eventually become extinct – the average length is about 4 millions I think. Something like a pandemic, a climate breakdown, a nonotech grey goo, something...
What’s annoying though is our fucking ignorance and arrogance, a terrible combination. I think in a way we are undermining our very existence by the things we do. We perhaps shouldn’t worry about the impending extinction of other species rather we should look to our own extinction, caused by our own stupidity, greed and lack of perception.
Anyway, good book and I want to continue learning more about the things he wrote about; about how the Earth works and how life works.
Left at 7:00 and got to Carrefour at 8:00. Sakurada came in and announced that today he was the only student. I groaned inside but smiled outside. Sakurada, I now realize because if the 2 hour we spent only talking to each other, has fucking awful listening and grammar. His listening skills were making me lose my patience with him; he sometimes couldn’t understand a simple, straightforward question or word!
Left just before 10:00 and was home just before 11:00. On the train I finished the Bill Bryson book (A Short History of Nearly Everything) , and what an excellent book it was, I can see a re-read of it a year from now, if not before. The final chapter was about the rise of humans and the destruction and increasing number of extinctions we have caused. It was a depressing thought to finish on.
I am becoming increasingly interested in ecology and life on the planet, diversity and the threats to it. I wonder where I should go with it? I’d like to do something to try and stop the destruction of parts of the planet’s eco-systems, but what can I do? I think if more ordinary people knew of the wonders of this planet, knew the miracle that is life and our own existence, the oneness of all life on this planet and knew what we were doing to the planet, then things would happen.
Knowledge is power.
The 19th and early 20th centuries (and before) were times of amazing ignorance and bizarre attitudes to the planet and the other living things we share it with. It’s only in the last 50 years or less that people have begun to understand about life on Earth, a lot of that due to TV and people like David Attenborough and the great nature documentaries that have been made. In fact he has probably done more in the cause of changing attitudes towards the environment than anyone else, at least in the UK. But the same has been happening in the USA.
I wasn’t quite sure what to write when I used the word "environment", because sometimes we make it sound like there are two parts of the planet: our part and the part where everything else lives. We treat it as our planet (obviously) and often refuse to share it with the creatures and the plants that where here millions of years before we were even down from the trees, or even before we decided to go up the trees in the first place. Because we can’t think in terms of the vast stretches of time the Earth works to, we tend to regard things in terms of human time, and so 3,000 years is seen as a very long time, when in reality it’s not. We kind of think we have been here for a long time, but we haven’t. Also we think that all the history and the Earth and evolution was building up to us and we are the pinnacle of the process and the end. Another big mistake that create the dangerous attitude that we own the place and everything on it.
I wonder if nature has something in store for us? A little balancing things out. We are just the fleas on the Earth’s back and one day the earth will scratch or jump into a river and we will be gone. All species eventually become extinct – the average length is about 4 millions I think. Something like a pandemic, a climate breakdown, a nonotech grey goo, something...
What’s annoying though is our fucking ignorance and arrogance, a terrible combination. I think in a way we are undermining our very existence by the things we do. We perhaps shouldn’t worry about the impending extinction of other species rather we should look to our own extinction, caused by our own stupidity, greed and lack of perception.
Anyway, good book and I want to continue learning more about the things he wrote about; about how the Earth works and how life works.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Sun Tiger Pump
I recently found a water pump just down the road from our apartment. It’s on a small path leading to a couple of houses. I hadn’t really noticed or taken note of it before. But recently I noticed a woman using it. She was cranking the pump handle up and down and filling a bucket. I haven’t seen a pump like this in Tokyo before, and in countryside perhaps only once or twice. So what is it doing here? Where does the water come from is there a spring under there or does the pump connect to the main water supply? The woman was filling a bucket with water so I think she was going to use it for cleaning or watering her plants, not for drinking.
It looks fairly old, 20 or 30 years or more. It has the name Sun Tiger Pump as part of the iron mold in three places, so there is no mistaking the name. I had a look on the Internet but couldn’t find any definite reference. I found just a single reference to “Sun Tiger Pump” on Google, a link that lead me to a very long list of report titles, the papers dealing with water management in Malaysia. This was on the web site of the Department of Irrigation and Drainage. The name Sun Tiger is used these days in connection with some kind of software and as the brand name for sunglasses.
I guess this water pump has stood there for at least 30 years or more and seen things come and go. I get the feeling though that it’s days are probably numbered. Kita Machi and the neighbourhood have been changing more in the last 10 years than the previous 50 I would say. When the owner of the building next to the pump dies or decides to sell the building will come down and the pump will go. It will probably go to the scarp yard, but if I had anything to do with it, it would go to a museum or be incorporated into the building some how as a link to the past.
The Japanese who is many ways are an emotional people are not very sentimental about the past, at least not the recent past. They happily demolish and clear buildings in Tokyo and throw taller and more non-descript anonymous glass hulks. Well, actually it’s the large building corporations who do the demolishing and throwing up, the average citizen of the city and country has absolutely no say in what the city looks like or the direction the city is going. They are not consulted and their opinion is not wanted.
There are the occasional protests at a proposed destruction. Last year it came to light that the Empress’s childhood house, where she lived before marrying the then Crown Prince and now Emperor, was to be demolished. Quite a little crowd gathered to try and stop them. Mostly middle aged women and men. Needless to say they didn’t succeed, but it made the TV news and no doubt made some people think about the issue.
City government all over the world does the same though. There must be something about being on a planning committee that shuts down the common sense centres of the brain. People start to have grand ideas and forget that they are supposed to be making a better environment for the people who live in the city. Ah well.
Back at the water pump another bucket full is being drawn up and a bucket filled. It’s pretty solid piece of equipment. Looks like cast iron, and while there is a little rust here and there it looks like it could easily keep working for another hundred years or more.
I wonder if we can buy this kind of pump any more? I’m sure we can but not in any shop I know.
These kinds of pumps are also known as Pitcher Pumps, the kind you see on Little House on the Prairie. You can still buy them. I found a couple on the Net from companies in the USA. According to the details it was made of cast iron, weighed 64 pounds, would pump up from a maximum depth of 75 feet and cost $350.
Tokyo is all in the details, just like this pump. Tokyo is the opposite of Mt. Fujji – it should view close up and in detail. From a distance Tokyo is a sprawling ugly mess. Impressive, yes it’s impressive, but then I remember the scene in Jurassic Park when they stumble across the huge dino shit; that was impressive as well.
Tokyo from the 40th floor of City Hall looks impressive but it’s deceptive. You are impressed simply by the scale. Like a dog walking on its back legs, we are impressed by the novelty and not the substance. But when you look a little closer you see that it is just mile upon mile of ugly buildings, stretching into the distance. You have get down from the 40th floor and into the streets and look around, then you will start to notice the little details, like an old water pump. That pump is a kind of OPO, an out of Place object. The kind of objects people sometime think were put there by aliens or the technology too advanced for their age objects. Except in this case it’s the other way round – an old object in a contemporary setting; an out of tie object. Like finding gas lights, or a telephone with a dialing disc with the 10 holes, or Pac Man. Objects that have somehow survived in a bubble and drifted along the currents of time unscathed. When they were first created there would have been thousands like them but slowly as the years passed the others disappeared, were destroyed, lost, melted, taken apart, buried. But a few found quiet corners, undisturbed corners were the swirls and eddies of time didn’t not operate, and there they stayed. They cannot last forever, nothing does, but it’s nice that some of them do and surprises us by their existence, keeping life in the city interesting. When the city is made up of only new, mass produced ubiquitous objects it will not be a pace fit to live in; it will be a sterile place. But I think Tokyo is far from there and will never get there, it’s too big and there are too many nooks, crannies and little corners for things to fall in and hide and be left alone.
I recently found a water pump just down the road from our apartment. It’s on a small path leading to a couple of houses. I hadn’t really noticed or taken note of it before. But recently I noticed a woman using it. She was cranking the pump handle up and down and filling a bucket. I haven’t seen a pump like this in Tokyo before, and in countryside perhaps only once or twice. So what is it doing here? Where does the water come from is there a spring under there or does the pump connect to the main water supply? The woman was filling a bucket with water so I think she was going to use it for cleaning or watering her plants, not for drinking.
It looks fairly old, 20 or 30 years or more. It has the name Sun Tiger Pump as part of the iron mold in three places, so there is no mistaking the name. I had a look on the Internet but couldn’t find any definite reference. I found just a single reference to “Sun Tiger Pump” on Google, a link that lead me to a very long list of report titles, the papers dealing with water management in Malaysia. This was on the web site of the Department of Irrigation and Drainage. The name Sun Tiger is used these days in connection with some kind of software and as the brand name for sunglasses.
I guess this water pump has stood there for at least 30 years or more and seen things come and go. I get the feeling though that it’s days are probably numbered. Kita Machi and the neighbourhood have been changing more in the last 10 years than the previous 50 I would say. When the owner of the building next to the pump dies or decides to sell the building will come down and the pump will go. It will probably go to the scarp yard, but if I had anything to do with it, it would go to a museum or be incorporated into the building some how as a link to the past.
The Japanese who is many ways are an emotional people are not very sentimental about the past, at least not the recent past. They happily demolish and clear buildings in Tokyo and throw taller and more non-descript anonymous glass hulks. Well, actually it’s the large building corporations who do the demolishing and throwing up, the average citizen of the city and country has absolutely no say in what the city looks like or the direction the city is going. They are not consulted and their opinion is not wanted.
There are the occasional protests at a proposed destruction. Last year it came to light that the Empress’s childhood house, where she lived before marrying the then Crown Prince and now Emperor, was to be demolished. Quite a little crowd gathered to try and stop them. Mostly middle aged women and men. Needless to say they didn’t succeed, but it made the TV news and no doubt made some people think about the issue.
City government all over the world does the same though. There must be something about being on a planning committee that shuts down the common sense centres of the brain. People start to have grand ideas and forget that they are supposed to be making a better environment for the people who live in the city. Ah well.
Back at the water pump another bucket full is being drawn up and a bucket filled. It’s pretty solid piece of equipment. Looks like cast iron, and while there is a little rust here and there it looks like it could easily keep working for another hundred years or more.
I wonder if we can buy this kind of pump any more? I’m sure we can but not in any shop I know.
These kinds of pumps are also known as Pitcher Pumps, the kind you see on Little House on the Prairie. You can still buy them. I found a couple on the Net from companies in the USA. According to the details it was made of cast iron, weighed 64 pounds, would pump up from a maximum depth of 75 feet and cost $350.
Tokyo is all in the details, just like this pump. Tokyo is the opposite of Mt. Fujji – it should view close up and in detail. From a distance Tokyo is a sprawling ugly mess. Impressive, yes it’s impressive, but then I remember the scene in Jurassic Park when they stumble across the huge dino shit; that was impressive as well.
Tokyo from the 40th floor of City Hall looks impressive but it’s deceptive. You are impressed simply by the scale. Like a dog walking on its back legs, we are impressed by the novelty and not the substance. But when you look a little closer you see that it is just mile upon mile of ugly buildings, stretching into the distance. You have get down from the 40th floor and into the streets and look around, then you will start to notice the little details, like an old water pump. That pump is a kind of OPO, an out of Place object. The kind of objects people sometime think were put there by aliens or the technology too advanced for their age objects. Except in this case it’s the other way round – an old object in a contemporary setting; an out of tie object. Like finding gas lights, or a telephone with a dialing disc with the 10 holes, or Pac Man. Objects that have somehow survived in a bubble and drifted along the currents of time unscathed. When they were first created there would have been thousands like them but slowly as the years passed the others disappeared, were destroyed, lost, melted, taken apart, buried. But a few found quiet corners, undisturbed corners were the swirls and eddies of time didn’t not operate, and there they stayed. They cannot last forever, nothing does, but it’s nice that some of them do and surprises us by their existence, keeping life in the city interesting. When the city is made up of only new, mass produced ubiquitous objects it will not be a pace fit to live in; it will be a sterile place. But I think Tokyo is far from there and will never get there, it’s too big and there are too many nooks, crannies and little corners for things to fall in and hide and be left alone.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Summer is here and people are thinking about holidays and vacations. We all imagine the perfect vacation but can we ever achieve it?
I was reading a good book recently called "The Art of Travel", by Alain de Botton, and he had some interesting things to say about the perfect vacation, and why perhaps it will always be unattainable:
"I remember a trip to a Caribbean island a few years ago. I looked forward to it for months, picturing the beautiful hotel on the shores of a sandy beach (as promised in a glossy brochure called Winter Sun). But on my first morning on the island, I realised something at once obvious and surprising: I had brought my body with me and, because of a fateful arrangement in the human constitution, my interaction with the island was critically dependent on its co-operation. The body proved a temperamental partner. Asked to sit in a deckchair so that the mind could savour the beach, the trees and the sun, it collapsed into difficulties; the ears complained of an enervating wind, the skin of stickiness and the toes of the sand lodged uncomfortably between them. After 10 minutes, the entire machine threatened to faint. Unfortunately, I had brought along something else that risked clouding my appreciation of my surroundings: my mind in its entirety -- not only the aesthetic lobe (which had planned the journey and agreed to pay for it), but also the part committed to anxiety, boredom, melancholy, self-disgust and financial alarm."
Well, there you go... or perhaps you don't. Perhaps you stay home annd read, or better still write, a book.
I was reading a good book recently called "The Art of Travel", by Alain de Botton, and he had some interesting things to say about the perfect vacation, and why perhaps it will always be unattainable:
"I remember a trip to a Caribbean island a few years ago. I looked forward to it for months, picturing the beautiful hotel on the shores of a sandy beach (as promised in a glossy brochure called Winter Sun). But on my first morning on the island, I realised something at once obvious and surprising: I had brought my body with me and, because of a fateful arrangement in the human constitution, my interaction with the island was critically dependent on its co-operation. The body proved a temperamental partner. Asked to sit in a deckchair so that the mind could savour the beach, the trees and the sun, it collapsed into difficulties; the ears complained of an enervating wind, the skin of stickiness and the toes of the sand lodged uncomfortably between them. After 10 minutes, the entire machine threatened to faint. Unfortunately, I had brought along something else that risked clouding my appreciation of my surroundings: my mind in its entirety -- not only the aesthetic lobe (which had planned the journey and agreed to pay for it), but also the part committed to anxiety, boredom, melancholy, self-disgust and financial alarm."
Well, there you go... or perhaps you don't. Perhaps you stay home annd read, or better still write, a book.
Friday, July 09, 2004
As Captain Beefheart once said, "It's so hot! Looks like you have three beaks crow". And indeed this morning as we were walking Patrick down to day care we saw a crow, sitting in a tree , with it's mouth open. Was it panting? Do birds pant in the heat like dogs? Or do they heat in their pants like dogs?
It was Hot today! I mean, like, Hot!
At the local pizza place people were huddled around the oven trying to cool down! That's how it was today.
And humid!
It was so humid today my finger nails were sweating; the leather of my boots was sweating; rivers of sweat ran down the streets...
It could be worse I suppose... we could be sweating in Bagdad.
Are those sunglasses the US soldier wear army issue?
Hopefully tomorrow it will be a little cooler. If this goes on any longer we'll have to think about buying air conditioning - there's only so much a small white towell and a free fan from Mini Stop can do.
It was Hot today! I mean, like, Hot!
At the local pizza place people were huddled around the oven trying to cool down! That's how it was today.
And humid!
It was so humid today my finger nails were sweating; the leather of my boots was sweating; rivers of sweat ran down the streets...
It could be worse I suppose... we could be sweating in Bagdad.
Are those sunglasses the US soldier wear army issue?
Hopefully tomorrow it will be a little cooler. If this goes on any longer we'll have to think about buying air conditioning - there's only so much a small white towell and a free fan from Mini Stop can do.
Monday, June 21, 2004
It's Tuesday so I must have the day to myself. And indeed I do, from 9:00 to 4:30 and then I have to go to work.
Reading some other, more serious blogs, I wonder what the hell I can do with this...
If you are going to write a good blog - one that people other than yourself will want to read, you need a few things:
1. It has to be well written.
2. It has to have something interesting and/or entertaining to say.
3. It shouldn't just be a boring list of what you did.
4. Don't wear your heart on your sleeve, because people don't really care.
5. It shouldn't suck
There may be other rules, but those 5 will be enough to be getting on with.
Of course the other thing is time. How much time are you going to devote to writing this stufff? You have to get into a routine. Or you have too have a lot time - time at the office when you should be doing proper workk, that's proberbly the best time write blogs.
Reading some other, more serious blogs, I wonder what the hell I can do with this...
If you are going to write a good blog - one that people other than yourself will want to read, you need a few things:
1. It has to be well written.
2. It has to have something interesting and/or entertaining to say.
3. It shouldn't just be a boring list of what you did.
4. Don't wear your heart on your sleeve, because people don't really care.
5. It shouldn't suck
There may be other rules, but those 5 will be enough to be getting on with.
Of course the other thing is time. How much time are you going to devote to writing this stufff? You have to get into a routine. Or you have too have a lot time - time at the office when you should be doing proper workk, that's proberbly the best time write blogs.
Friday, June 18, 2004
In the office, 5:20pm. I caught a cold, either from Patrick or Harumi, and now my head feels like a treacle pudding, except without the treacle.
A hot and humid day. I was afraid the two Time Out chocolate bars would melt before I got them back to the office. It's only 5 minutes to the 99 Yen shop but the air is like oven out there.
A hot and humid day. I was afraid the two Time Out chocolate bars would melt before I got them back to the office. It's only 5 minutes to the 99 Yen shop but the air is like oven out there.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
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