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Harold and Maude and Eternal Reefs In November 1995, I had what has turned out to be an epiphany. It manifested itself in the phrase "CULTURE IS A FISH". I've been trying to figure that one out for awhile, and I've gotten even closer. Then came a newspaper article I read this morning that pointed to this website: Eternal Reefs. My favorite moment in the movie Harold and Maude is when Maude throws her engagement ring into the San Francisco Bay. Harold screams in disbelief "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" and she answers, "Now I'll always know where it is!" So, this is what I want to do, continue the cycle of life and death. And you'll always know where I'll be: with the fish!

Here's something exciting: My cholesterol is sky high, so in searching for what to do, I found this interesting page: Red Rice Yeast

It's here! Finally!

Here we go to the Internet as Portfolio link!

My bro is in the hospital sans gall bladder. Which made me wonder what the hell it's used for. Of course, with the internet, I knew in less than a minute. The Function of the Gall Bladder Because fat cannot be dissolved in water, a special system has evolved for its digestion and its absorption through the intestinal wall. Bile is an essential factor in this, since it contains substances that allow fats to be emulsified. It also stimulates the secretion of an enzyme concerned with the breakdown of fats. Bile is secreted by the liver and stored in the gallbladder until needed. When fat is eaten, this stimulates the gallbladder to contract and bile flows down the cystic duct, into the common bile duct and through the ampulla of Vater into the intestine. As well as acting as a storage vessel, the gallbladder concentrates the bile within it by removing water through its wall. Thus, if the gallbladder is removed, although bile still flows into the intestine from the liver, fat digestion may be less efficient because the bile is not concentrated.

JINGO BELLS, JINGO BELLS

Got this from my mom via email. She likes to forward interesting tidbits she receives. I decided to go through it all and put my left wing spin on this right wing rant. It was fun, anyway. My rebuttals are in brown. Some sentences have links.

Just outside of Ab Gach (in the northwest panhandle of Afghanistan between Tajikstan and Pakistan) November 11, 2001 I wonder how many Americans can name the geography surrounding Afghanistan now. Maybe this'll help?

---

---

Bizarre, it's f***ing freezing here. I'm sitting on hard, cold dirt between rocks and shrubs at the base of the Hindu Kush mountains along the Dar'yoi Pomir River watching a hole that leads to a tunnel that leads to a cave. Stake out, my friend, and no pizza delivery for thousands of miles. OK, you are not in Kansas any more. Already, there's an implication here that pizza will make the world right again. I knew what was coming right from this point. More of the same blather about how good "our way" of life is, and about how to dehumanize the 'enemy'. This type of set up attempts to make us all comfortable with the killing that is going on in our name right now. Yeah, lots of good old fashioned killing and death and destruction...ok, well, not much left to destroy, but we'll do it if we can. I also glance at the area around my ass So, FUCKING needs stars, but ASS doesn't? This is always real curious for me...does this guy work for CNN with the same ideals of censorship? every ten to fifteen seconds to avoid another scorpion sting. I've actually given up battling the chiggers ants and fleas, but them goddamn scorpions give a jolt like a cattle prod. Hurts like a bastard. The antidote tastes like transmission fluid but God bless the Marine Corps for the 5 vials of it in my pack. One truth the Taliban(dits) cannot escape is that, believe it or not, they are human beings, which means they have to eat food and drink water. Interesting to note that this writer starts out saying the Taliban are human, but then proceeds in several sections to dehumanize them as much as possible, making rampant bombing and killing more palatable. �That requires couriers and that's where an old bounty hunter like me comes in handy; I track the couriers, locate the tunnel entrances and storage facilities, type the info into the handheld, shoot the coordinates up to the satellite link that tells the air commanders where to drop the hardware,A nice euphemism for these daisy cutter bombs that have incredible destructive force. Notice no use of bomb, explosion or any violent imagery here...not yet anyway...more below. we bash some heads for a while, then I track and record the new movement. No, this is not about bashing heads, it's about killing. It's about bodies being blown to small pieces. It's about rampant decapitation, disembowelment, dismemberment, liquidation. It's about complete and utter destruction of a hated enemy without remorse. Call it as you see it, please, and I'll have a bit more respect for your stance, even if I disagree with it. �It's all about intelligence. �We haven't even brought in the snipers yet. These scurrying rats Dehumanization. have no idea what they're in for. I think you are probably right. The fuckheads who brought us 9-11 were MOST LIKELY connected in some way with these guys, though none of this information has been made public, brought to light in a court of justice, etc. They surely haven't a clue of the overwhelming might of American military forces...but then again, they are in Afghanistan...among one of the poorest and most shat on countries in history. Most Afghanis don't even know what the World Trade Center looked like. They haven't a fucking clue about where the USA is.�We are but days away from cutting off supply lines and allowing the eradication to begin. Eradication...is anyone scared yet?

I dream of bin Laden waking up to find me standing over him with my boot on his throat as I spit a bloody ear into his face and plunge my nickel-plated Bowie knife through his frontal lobe. �But you know me, I'm a romantic. I feel better already. I'm going to invite this guy to my next birthday party. It seems that this mentality is the mirror image of bin Laden and his ilk. Then again, bin Laden is a spoiled rich boy who isn't getting his way anymore. This guy's background is anybody's guess. Spitting out an ear? Hence, we learn a bit more about mindset. Am I supposed to be cheering now? Are people who read this feeling comforted that their tax money is going to support people who will chew off ears before slitting throats? How is this different from the fucks who killed Daniel Pearl, then? Do the fucks who supported that monstrosity feel the same way some people feel about this imagery of chewed off ears and stabbing someone in the head? Why does that make this guy better then?I've said it before and I'll say it again: This country blows, man. It's not even a country. So happy you've discovered this secret. The US packed up and left it high and dry and saturated with land mines after the commies, the guys who helped to plant most of the mines, were run off. Oh, sorry we didn't stay to help you clean up the mess those commies left. See you later, no need to thank us! There are no roads, there's no infrastructure, there's no government. �This is an inhospitable, rockpit hole ruled by eleventh century warring tribes. So, which is it? No government, or a place ruled by warlords? Please don't pause to study the history to find out how it came to be that way, ok? Let's just leave out that part. I feel better now. �There are no jobs here like we know jobs. Afghanistan offers two ways for a man to support his family: join the opium trade or join the army. �That's it. �Those are your options. Opium, an addictive drug, highly in demand. Let's see, our war on drugs...and we, the U.S. government and the Bush administration, gave the Taliban(dits) 42 million dollars to eradicate the crops...hmmmm. I'm glad we don't have anyone in the U.S. engaged in doing something they hate just to put food on the table. I bet you love your job, too..oh, you are in the army...I'd say how ironic that was, but irony is dead after 9-11. Oh, I forgot, you can also live in a refugee camp and eat plum-sweetened, crushed beetle paste and squirt mud like a goose with stomach flu if that's your idea of a party. And all those refugees are so happy to be there, too. They want to live like that of course. Go and ask them why they don't just hop on a plane to America to live in some gated community somewhere. I'm sure they much prefer to live in terror 24 hours a day..doesn't matter who imposes the terror, the warlords, the Taliban, US soldiers. But the smell alone of those "tent cities of the walking dead" is enough to hurl you into the poppy fields to cheerfully scrape bulbs for eighteen hours a day. �Things are coming so fast and furious, I don't think I can keep up with this...bad smells, eeeeww! Must not be human! Walking dead = Zombies = not human, and eeeww! Zombies smell bad, too, right? The last part about the poppy fields work is probably true. They can put food on the table, because it's a high demand commodity. Who consumes that poppy stuff? OH, heroin addicts in America, you say...oh. And let me tell you something else. I've been living with these Tajiks and Uzbeks and Turkmen and even a couple of Pushtins for over a month and a half now and this much I can say for sure: These guys, all of em, are Huns. �Actual, living Huns. Are huns human? Seems the answer is NO. �They LIVE to fight. It's what they do. �It's ALL they do. Duh. Again, check your history book fella. But wait, you are a soldier, what's the difference? You just talked about skewering bin Laden, chewing off his ear and stabbing him in the forehead. I don't see any consistency here.�They have no respect for anything, not for their families or for each other or for themselves. �They claw at one another as a way of life. Please, whatever you do, don't stop and think about why this is as it is. Also don't think about why you need to point out this detail. Please don't.�They play polo with dead calves and force their five year old sons into human cockfights to defend the family honor. I think the dead calves thing is a national sport that has been a tradition since...the Huns! ;-) Huns, roaming packs of savage, heartless beasts who feed on each other's barbarism. Goddamn cavemen with AK 47's. Dehumanization. Makes it easier to justify counter-barbarism. YAWN.

Then again, maybe I'm just cranky. �I'm freezing my *** Used ASS above, but not here...I just don't get it. You can't write FUCK or ASS, but you can write about chewing off an ear and stabbing someone in the forehead... off on this stupid hill because my lap warmer is running out of juice and I can't recharge it until the sun comes up in a few hours. And I'm sitting here on my ass in front of a computer with a nice warm space heater blowing on my soft candy ass. So, what's yer point?

Oh yeah! Is this a "EUREKA I've realized what an ass hole I am", or is it some kind of spiritual self-awareness thing? �You like to write letters, right? �Do me a favor: �Write a letter to CNN and tell Judy and Bernie and that awful, sneering, pompous Aaron Brown to stop calling the Taliban "smart." �They are not smart. I suggest CNN invest in a dictionary because the word they are looking for is "cunning." CNN? CN fucking N? You are basing this argument on the assumption that CNN is an unbiased news source. Owned by AOL Time/Warner, I doubt we'll find anything approaching "disinterested" from them.�The Taliban(dits) are cunning, like jackals Dehumanization. and hyenasDehumanization. and wolverinesDehumanization.; they are sneaky and ruthless and, when confronted, cowardly. They are hateful, malevolent, cowardly parasites Dehumanization.who create nothing and destroy everything else True. They were also created by American cold war policy to counter the commies, and trained with American money to become machines of destruction. We did a good job! �Smart. �Pfft!! �Yeah, they're real smart. They've spent their entire lives reading only one book (and not a very good one!, as books go)This is a curious bit of political correctness, in my opinion. I think this guy pretty much hates Islam, and equates Islamic fundamentalism with mainstream Islam. Well, ok, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and Billy Graham represent mainstream Christianity, then. SIGH. Religious stereotyping and bigotry is the real boil on the ass of history. and consider hygiene and indoor plumbing to be products of the devil. Considering that less than 5% of the worlds population has indoor plumbing (ok, I don't know the exact number, but almost all of the developing world doesn't have it..jeez, a lot of Japan doesn't have indoor plumbing!) I don't see what this is supposed to mean. �They're still figuring out how to work a Bic lighter. Not the most intuitive design...but anyway, is this supposed to mean that Bic defines the pinnacle of civilization? Bic lighter...using that to light up a cig, perhaps? Tobacco and Heroin poppies in the same essay...two different perspectives on what they are. I suppose the addictiveness and ruin the tobacco industry has caused to millions of Americans is acceptable while 9-11 is not. Where the fuck is the consistency? Talking to a Taliban warrior about improving his quality of life is like trying to teach an ape Dehumanization. how to hold a pen; eventually he just gets frustrated and sticks you in the eye with it.Stick in the eye, knife in the forehead. �OK, enough. I'm encouraged that this guy tried to dialogue with one of these apes. However, improving his quality of life implies that it isn't quality enough...and what was our writer trying to say exactly? I'm afraid this confuses me more again. I thought you weren't interested in talk, only eradication. Please, please be consistent. You are really fucking starting to bug me.

Sun'll be up soon so I have to get back to my hole. �Covering my tracks in the snow takes a lot of practice but I'm getting good at it.

Please tell my fellow Americans to turn off their TV sets and move on with their lives. TV, now THERE'S REAL quality of life! The story line you are getting from CNN is utter b***s*** and designed not to deliver truth but rather to keep you glued to the screen through the commercials. Give this man a master's degree in communication! He's got it! �We've got this one under control. Be very scared.�The worst thing you guys can do right now is sit around analyzing what we're doing over here because you have no idea what we're doing and, really, you don't want to know. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, especially when it's Americans fighting evil with evil. That'll even the score..oh, actually, we've already surpassed the body counts of 9-11. Just over 3,000 innocents versus just under 4,000 and counting in that shithole we call Afghanistan. This is precisely what ALWAYS happens in war scenarios. The first casualty in war is the truth, and the truth is that a lot of people are being murdered. Um, human people, you know those kind, right? We are your military and we are doing what you sent us here to do. Keep at it, man. Don't stop until one or two million are dead, then I'll feel that those 3,000 innocents did not die in vain. Plant more landmines and please practice many interesting things like castration, drawing and quatering, skinning alive and other forms of torture outlawed by the Geneva convention, etc, etc. Man, be very very scared. You wanna help? �Buy some f***ing stocks, America. If I had those stocks, I'd lock your sorry ass in them, fucker. Notice I said nothing about stabbing you in the forehead.

Saucy Jack

People who enjoyed reading Saucy Jack probably also searched the Internet for the video of Daniel Pearl. Wake the fuck up, America and realize that we are going further and further down that slippery slope. War is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate. -- Marvin Gaye.

OH, GREAT GOOGAMOOGA! Yeah, so I remember dancing with the black girls back in 1st grade. That was when the Temptations were in full swing with a lot of their music. Funky psychadelia, man! I miss it a lot. Let's not forget that favorite, if dated song...BALL OF CONFUSION! Lyrics taken directly from their website! ####### Ball Of Confusion (That's What The World Is Today) - The Temptations People moving out, People moving in. why, because of the color of their skin run, run, run but you sho' can't hide An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, vote for me and I'll set you free rap on, brother, rap on The only person talking about love thy brother is the preacher and it seems nobody's interested in learning but the teacher segregation, determination, demonstration, integration, Aggravation, humiliation, obligation to our nation Ball of confusion, oh yeah That's what the world is today, hey The sale of pills are at an all time high young folks walking round with their heads in the sky the cities ablaze in the summertime, and oh the beat goes on evolution, revolution, gun control, sound of soul shooting rockets to the moon kids growing up too soon politicians say more taxes, will solve everything and the band played on So, round and around and around we go where the world's headed, nobody knows Oh, Great Googamooga, can't you hear me talking to you just a ball of confusion, oh yeah that's what the world is today, hey Fear in the air, tension everywhere unemployment rising fast, the Beatles new record's a gas and the only safe place to live, is on an Indian reservation and the band played on Eve of destruction, tax deduction city inspectors, bill collectors mod clothes in demand, population out of hand, suicide, too many bills hippies moving to the hills people all over the world are shouting end the war and the band played on Oh, Great Googamooga, can't you hear me talking to you just a ball of confusion, that's what the world is today, hey #### Got in touch with one of my high school chums who also happens to be my 3rd cousin or something like that. He asked me why I had "divorced" myself from high school friends. I didn't know that I had been doing things like that. Then I noticed the pattern! I did the same thing in LA when I split for Boston, and later to Kenya with the Peace Corps. Moving away from people DOES LEAVE some emotional scars, so how to make departing less painful. People seem to take some things a bit too seriously. Ah, well.

So, it's a kind of a weird feeling, what's going on in the world. It's definitely been going down hill. I think I prefer the last millennium. Can I have that back now? Meanwhile, the mundane of Japanese school system took a slightly scary turn with a visit to my daughter's class today. After class, one of the moms (I being the only dad in the room) asked about that Osaka incident, and how the school would handle security. Depressing. Phil Agre always has a nice list of interesting links.

Am I a weblog junkie? No, not yet, because I've been sporadic poster at best. Just found out my very first website was taken down due to a delinquent credit card payment. I've been shelling out 20 bucks a month just to keep some cranky old pages up there, and haven't thought about the site for a few months...obviously. SIGH.

George Bush, Jr. What can we say about this guy? This is quite possibly one of the darkest times in the history of the Yewnited States. Of course, Dumbya is just a figurehead...but man, what a perfect poster boy. Here is one of the funniest comics I've seen in a long time. And here is the most incredible dictionary you are ever going to see on the internet.

A first year student writes to another student from next year about my class. Our communication class's teacher is Larry. We do many projects. I think that the most difficult project was "MOO project". We challenged to give a lecture on PC. But I didn't understand what I should do. Since I had trouble during lecture. Maybe, there were many people the same situation with me. If you put in practice "MOO project", you had better explain more minutely. We make a card, and we exchange cards with our partner. My partner was (DELETED). It is good to be able to know about her. And I was first time using CD-R. First I didn't understand the way of using. But I think that the good thing was ready. I think that this project should do next semester. This class is free. This is good. But we don't use English much. We almost speak Japanese. This isn't good much. We should try to speak English in myself. If we don't use English, we slipped my mind. That is sad, but that is fact. I think that it decrease the number of this class's person. And it had better increase that chance to speak English of per person. I thought that this class's purpose is "collaboration". Because I thought that there are many group project in this class. But I couldn't hand in "NOT CD" project till deadline. It is not said that I can attain perfect my purpose. I reflect on my action, and I hold on after "NOT CD" project. Group work is not responsibility only me. If someone could not achieve your role, it troubled for all group members. Through this class, I learned precious of collaboration and difficulty. And I think that I can get more sense of responsibility than before this class.

Looks like I'll get some creative writing published on the web.

How do I feel these days?

Well, numb, more than anything else. I can't believe the depths of jingoistic insanity and inanity we have plunged into.

Such bellicosity from both sides of this wacky conflict is amazing.

Anyway, that's about all I want to say on the topic. I have a ton of links I suppose I should post here, but, well, too lazy more than anything else.

Bye bye.

Welcome to the Soapbox. Watch your neck as it crane's higher and higher.

My mom sent me this...


We Are America

As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We became one color.
As we carried each other down the stairs of the burning building,
We became one class.
As we lit candles of waiting and hope,
We became one generation.
As the firefighters and police officers fought their way into the inferno,
We became one gender.
As we fell to our knees and prayed for strength,
We became one faith.
As we whispered or shouted words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
As we mourned together the great loss,
We became one family.
As we cried tears of grief and loss,
We became one soul.
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heroes,
We become one people.

We are
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people

We are The Power of One.
We are United.
We are America.
######

To which I replied
(subject: see the cat? see the cradle?)

I'm sorry to burst your bubble like this...really...but things like this poem are too jingoistic for me. Kurt Vonnegut (who witnessed the bombing of Dresden in WWII) would call the poem a great GRANFALOON. In Vonnegut's book, Cat's Cradle (read the book!), he writes...

#######
Hazel's obsession with Hoosiers was a textbook example of a false karass, of a seeming team that was meaningless in terms of the ways God gets things done, a textbook example of what Bokonon calls a granfalloon. Other examples of granfalloons are the Communist party, the Daughters of the American Revolution, the General Electric Company, the International Order of Odd Fellows----and any nation, any time, anywhere.

As Bokonon invites us to sing along with him:
If you wish to study a granfalloon,
Just remove the skin of a toy balloon.
#######

When you send me this, it scares me even more that Americans still think like Americans. Still, as if "we Americans" are all that matters.

Dammit! I hate having to step on a soapbox all the time, but here I go again. WAKE - THE - FUCK - UP -AMERICA!! JOIN THE FAMILY OF HUMANITY AND STOP TRYING TO LIVE ABOVE IT ALL.

I rewrote your poem and would appreciate it if you forward it to people. WE, meaning all of us, have to learn about this entire planet of ours. By the way, I'm exercising my AMERICAN right to free expression and dissent! Remember, I love my country too, and I have served it! I'm very proud of that fact. I'm ready to write my congressman and ask him to propose legislation that the Peace Corps become MANDATORY. It would get our insular asses out to see what the rest of the world looks like. That's why it's called the PEACE CORPS. The idea is to end war and terror by going and living among people outside of fortress America (now, horribly, no longer a fortress).

Now, for some GOOD reading (I needed the laughs) look at

The Onion! and especially
God on terrorist bombings.

The entire issue is brilliance and, though a satirical newspaper, full of food for thought. THOUGHT!

OK, off the soapbox again...sigh, well, except for the poem, to wit...

#####
*WE* Are NOT America, *WE* Are Humanity

As the soot and dirt and ash rained down at ground zero in NYC,
We became one color.
But what were we before?
As we carried each other down the stairs of the burning buildings,
We became one class.
But what were we before?
As we lit candles of waiting and hope around the world,
We became one generation.
But what were we before?
As the firefighters and police officers fought their way into the infernos,
We became one gender.
But what were we before?
As we fell to our knees and prayed for strength around the world,
We became one faith.
But what were we before?
As we whispered or shouted or emailed words of encouragement, love, hope,
We spoke one language.
But what were we before?
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
But what were we before?
As we mourned together the great loss of life, love, hope, dreams,
We became one family.
But what were we before?
As we cried tears of grief and loss and anger and confusion and fear,
We became one soul.
But what were we before?
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heroes,
We become one people.
But what were we before?
As we look at ourselves and who we are and at what do,
We become enlightened together.
But what were we before?
As we search for answers,
We become to understand that WHY is most important.
But why weren't we searching before?
Why aren't we asking WHY more often?

We are, and always have been,
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people
But why didn't we know it?

We can be The Power of One.
We can be United.
We can be Humanity.

But what were we before? And WHY?

"See the cat? See the cradle?"

######
She then sent this...
from a friend of hers

If that letter of disapproval of that forwarded poem from some professor
in Japan, is from your son may I say that the boy is my new hero. If you
don't want him anymore I'll take him.

I know your spirit is the sweet one I've known for too short a time and i
think i know exactly what you are feeling, but there is a flip side to that
put down of Americans.

I appreciate receiving it because it is fodder for a direct answer,
point for point on his issues followed with "but where were we before." I
haven't yet finished the detailed and direct answer. I just have no time
right now. Joyce and I just got back from two weeks of filming on �Gods and
Generals� in Virginia and am now undertaking the meanest Shakespearean play
that SOB ever wrote. It's brutality to actors! (And maybe audience):
�Troilas and Cressida� Anyway I can't wait to find the time to finish my
strong rebuttal to the poem.
Here�s some of the thoughts I�ll be pin pointing in my rebuttal to that
terrible spirited poem:
Where were we? For one thing, we were busy trying to set the tinplate
for a better world. Opening the doors to world trade to better the
conditions in other lands at a great cost to our own and hopefully great
profit for all. We were extending lend-lease to other countries and not
getting paid the rent; we were building and then rebuilding every other
involved country for the damage caused by something they started. Helping
those who believe in the phylosophy stated in �The Onions� wonderful
message.
We were sacrificing our young men in our mutual behalf. We were
magnanimous and opened our doors...perhaps too wide. And when some of you
came and answered us and called us the great Satin, we took a moment for
ourselves to grieve and grieve and help each other. All that stuff....where
we were before...helped make us what we became in the face of this
disaster.
We are the peace corps, the red cross, the salvation army, Christians,
Jews and Islam living and let living and learning from each other. We have
some to go, and we need to look at why the progress is slow...but we�re
getting better. At least we are listening. Our dollars can only go so far,
but it�s a lot to ask for one counrty to carry the load of the whole world.
I would ask a question of that professor. What did they do with money we�ve
been pouring into their coutries. I guess the other countries leaders are
the only ones who can answer that. If they�re not too busy spending it on
themselves and ideas to bomb their benefactors. Were listening. Where are
your questions? How more can we help? Where are you?
The finality of my tome would be, what were those terrorists doing?
Suppressing their women. Keeping them out of sight and uneducated...except
the few that they hold in reserve for their own pleasures. Were they there
backing up the young Chinese students who are fighting for democracy. I
mean, get REAL. If these obvious things I�m citing just off the top of my
head are there ...imagine what a greater mind than mine could do with that
clap-trap!
I hate the implications made by that idiot in Japan and to him I
say,
'HOW DARE YOU!!!!'
#######
My response, after being up all night last nite. Crane your neck for the very high soapbox on this one...

Howdee,

This is an interesting email from your friend. Since
its 4 in the morning here, I won't go into counter
mudslinging yet (oops, looks like I did below anyway),
but I would definitely like to see your friend's
measured response. Also, I'm writing this part AFTER
the part below...It's mainly addressed to your friend,
so you can pass it on to him.

One thing is for sure...he's got a lot of learning to
do. Please read more and learn more. Please please
please! Pretty please. Now, I said pretty please,
right!?

He talks about all the money that we give out to
countries. You might want to mention that we recently
gave the Taliban 42 million United States dollars for
being good folks by chopping off the hands and heads
of all those who would grow opium poppies. That was
Mr. President George W. Bush who did that back some
time in April. How dare they bite the hand that feeds
them. Seems we looked the other way about how the
Taliban treat their women and children, as long as
they get the drug producers. Why wasn't this in the
papers or on TV on CNN? I agree, the Taliban are scum
and they are certainly not Moslems. Allah will deal
with them and the terrorists in hell.

(note: seems that this 42, actually 43 million WAS for humanitarian aid after all!)

You might want to mention that we pretty much know
where all the terrorist training camps are in
Afghanistan, and we know the terrorists tactics,
because out of the goodness of our hearts, those
former "freedom fighters" (we helped bin Laden get his
start) helped us to bring down the evil Soviet empire
after they invaded Afghanistan. We poured money to set
up those camps. We and the Brits trained them all in
terrorist, sorry, "freedom fighting", tactics. Tell
your friend to look up the SAS of the UK for more
information. Why hasn't this been on TV, etc? Oh,
Afghanistan has 10% of the world's landmines, and they
are found in over 90% of the country. Where were they
made? Actually, I'm not sure. Most likely Russian?
http://www.rawa.org/mine.htm will have more info on
this, but not sure how reputable that website is. It
says Iran is the winner, and Russia second, but who
can trust anything in the media.

You know the American embassy that the Taliban just
sacked in Kabul? How dare they! It had stood empty
since 1988 or 1989. After vanquishing the communists,
for some reason our democracy loving politicians
forgot to install or encourage any type of democratic
government in the country, totally ignoring it until
September 11, 2001...well, except for that 42 million
I mentioned. One reason we haven't "done" anything yet
is that we have ZERO first hand intelligence. Why? Who
cared? We didn't, until September 11, 2001.

Need I mention Kuwait and the evil Saddam Hussein
(created by George senior to counter those evil
Iranians who overthrew our beloved Shah Reza Pahlavi,
another highly repsected lover of democracy)? Is
Kuwait democratic yet? Lemme know when they decide. As
I recall, they tried it for a year or so, but went
back to their autocracy. Saddam wasn't destroyed, lest
we put in a democratic government that would charge us
more for their oil. And how about Saudi Arabia for
that matter: a kingdom of the rich, for the rich, by
the rich. Hey, in fact, all those countries where we
get oil from aren't democratic. Curious. Where's the
US tinplate for them? In the rest of the world, we pay
between 3 to 6 dollars per gallon of gasoline.

OH, I forgot, the Pakistanis are really pissed right
now, also feeling ignored by the US since the demise
of communism. They have nukes, and a highly unstable
government (can you say military coup overthrowing a
democratically elected government?), not to mention a
huge border with enemies India (hey! also have nukes!
but in times like these, we can forget our sanctions
against these two countries and yes, we did just give
BOTH about 40 million dollars each in our new war),
and Iran! The Iranians hate US, and they hate the
Pakistanis, too! Afghanistan is Pakistan's cushion
against Iran and Russia. The Pakistanis still support
the Taliban. Why are we allied with them? Why do we
care now? Why didn't we care before?

Yes, I DO DARE. Why? I'm an American. Born in the
country I love, the United States of America. I gave
two years of my life serving my country, America, as a
member of the United States Peace Corps. That makes me
a hero by your definition, and an American, too. I
lived peacefully in a Moslem village. I lived with
disentary (ever lost complete control of your bowel
movements?), malaria, no such luxuries as electricity
and clean water and lattes, but yes to the threat of
wild animals (lions, baboons, giraffe, hippos,
elephants) and Somali bandits with AK-47s lurking in
the jungles. The shop in town had one brand of
toothpaste, one brand of canned margarine, and lots of
American tobacco! I smoked a pack of Marlboro a day. I
also grew to understand and appreciate Islam and their
love and devotion to their god, and I also know that
those sick, murdering swine who slammed into the WTC
and Pentagon have as much to do with Islam as Charles
Manson and Jerry Falwell have to do with Christianity
and Aum Shinri Kyo had to do with Hinduism.

Don't want to live with terror? You might like to know
that Aum thought they had acquired some virulent
anthrax, and set up a factory inside of Tokyo, and
were releasing what they thought was the virus through
their factory's chimmney. This went on for about 4
days, until the neighbors complained of the smell, and
they were caught. Seems that had acquired an antedote
serum, and not the virus. Their plan had been to kill
as many as 3 or 4 million people. Darn, they didnt get
it right that time, so a short time later, they gassed
a subway train killing a mere 11 people before MOST of
them were caught. They used Sarin, which Hitler used
so well against the Jews. Mixed it right up in another
factory that they set up. There are still several at
large and surely planning to do it right the next
time. This was back in 1995. For three weeks, the city
I lived in was swarming with police. I rode the subway
with three police officers in every car! In Japan, the
potential for this horrific terror is still around. I
feel a little safer where I am now, but then again, I
live within shooting range of North Korean scuds, one
of which flew over Japan just a couple of years ago in
a small "accident".

How many of your Moslem friends did you write to in
support of their lives. How are they living now in the
US? I have a Bangladeshi friend there and he is, to
put it lightly, nervous. But when Tim McVeigh blew up
the federal building in OKC (It is a very sad and
sacred place indeed. I've mourned and prayed there,
have you?), did you look around at other white people
with suspicion, or kick them out of rent-a-truck
agencies? Are you saying HOW DARE YOU to the people
who have refused to ride on planes with "Arab looking"
people?

I've lived here in Japan, where racism is pervasive,
understanding the difficulty of never really being
accepted as a full fledged member of this society.
Now, I see the same old same old in the US, especially
in the guise of a SIKH, of all people, murdered in
cold blood by someone getting revenge "for America". 8
year old kids being called "terrorist" in primary
schools. Hundreds of hate crimes reported. Where's
your HOW DARE YOU sign?

At least George W. Bush's spinners have been getting
him to say this is not an attack on Islam and Islam is
not at fault here. I fully support how he has risen to
this occassion and I even support a military solution
to bringing these "folks" to justice...if evidence is
submitted to the world courts and Bin Laden and his
scum are found guilty (and I think they did it). But I
think Giulani has exemplified best the spirit of our
great country. I couldn't eat for two days after the
attacks, mainly because I was flying on an airplane a
mere three hours after the attacks had happened...CNN
was playing and replaying the attacks in the airport
(in Malaysia, a mostly Moslem country...do you know
where that is?). Giulani said, let's get back to life,
and I have...to the extent that I can...and my
Japanese colleagues have done the same.

I met a guy here in town last week, a Japanese, who
worked for 8 years in the WTC. A Japanese librarian in
my school had Japanese friends who got out alive.
Another local Japanese friend also knew people in the
area, but all were safe. Me? Just one friend there,
who is ok.

What bothers me most, with letters like yours, are the
misinterpretations, and the inadequacies I have as a
writer trying to get my message across. I am saddened
that it takes something like this madness, this
atrocity...(what is the most appropriate word?) to get
Americans in touch with the rest of the world, and to
get Americans to know that we Americans have led a
very charmed life. I thank God daily that I was lucky
to be born in the US, but I'm always appalled by
Amercian insularity. The WTC is in NYC...of course!
Mostly Americans died and were targeted...of course!
But people from 90 different countries were vaporized.
100 brits, 100 Moslems, 50 Japanese. People from half
the world converged on our great city. The WTC
embodied a lot of hopes for a lot of people around the
world. The attack's results actually affected a lot
more than just Americans. So why limit the poem to we
Americans? Most of the world mourned the loss of the
myth, I think. I guess that's my problem...I knew it
was a myth all along, but I don't think most Americans
thought the same way. The poem simply says to me that
Americans STILL DON'T GET IT!

Anyway, I wait for a more detailed response from you.
I don't consider myself an idiot, by the way. And my
impartial mother (wink wink) will assure you that I'm
not. But I will say HOW DARE YOU NOT ASK WHY!!

With great respect,

Yeah, things are getting busy, but it wouldn't hurt to jot down things here, too.

I will perhaps use the events of 9-11 in class, but not sure how yet. More on this later.

The first day of school, already a lot to do and a lot of interesting things to write about, but who has the time, people!? Not I.

I'll do my best to keep up with the madness of everyday life from now on, but will surely be sporadic and uniformative more than not, I think.

No other interesting tidbits for today. SORRY!

I'm putting together a compliation of songs. I'll burn a CD and call it: "WHY?". Here's the song list

What's going on? - Marvin Gaye
Sign o' the Times - Prince
Rivers of Babylon - The Melodions
Life During Wartime - Talking Heads
This Must Be the Place (Native Melody) - Talking heads
In My Life - The Beatles
I Fall to Pieces - Patsy Cline
Cross Road Blues - Robert Johnson
September Song - Sarah Vaughan
One Cylinder - Lou Donaldson
Many Rivers to Cross - Jimmy Cliff
Redemption Song - Stevie Wonder
Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival
God Bless the Child - Stanley Turrentine
I Say a Little Prayer - Aretha Franklin
God Only Knows - The Beach Boys
Avalon - Roxy Music
We'll Meet Again - (YOW! Some woman in the 1950's...song from the end of Dr. Strangelove)

And, pasted below, the words to Fortunate Son

Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Yeah, the red, white, and blue
When the band plays 'Hail To The Chief'
Yeah, they'll point the cannon at you

It ain't me, it ain't me
I'm no millionaire's son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Well, they help themselves, yeah
When the taxman comes to the door
House looks a like a rummage sale

It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no millionaire's son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one, no

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes
Yeah, when they send you down to war
Well, when you ask them how much you should give
Yeah, it's always more, more, more

It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no senator's son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I'm no fortunate one

It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no military son
It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son
Take it away...

Here's a poem I wrote today.
#######################

Why?

Down ahead of us at the junction
There is a man standing, gesturing ambiguously

What meaning he is attempting to communicate
Can neither be told nor known exactly

Though we are aboard this train, passengers by association
We have forgotten its' destination

(My Canadian friend emails
About her recent visit to Auschwitz)

We have forgotten a lot of things before us
About that man standing, gesturing ambiguously

And we have forgotten who
Is at the control of the engine of this train

A glance out of the train window and behind
Reveals a dusty, ashen gray

A conflagration of black and white and blood red and the blues
A contamination of hate clouds the windows, obscures us from seeing

The man's arms are moving
But how to interpret the signal

Puffs of smoke as if from a starters pistol
But we defer untrained for these Olympics

No dais to distinguish the
1-2-3 (all aboard!)

We lurch and I grasp the safety handle
And pull toward me what is most important (my girls)

And misty-eyed from fear and grief
We hope beyond hope that this train won't move on (the horns sound)

Toward that junction
And on to the next gray, loveless destination

The evening of September 10th, 2001, I lay on my back in the dark. I was on a secluded beach, barely 1/2 a mile long, on Tioman Island, Malaysia. The island is a two-hour speedboat ride due east off the southeastern tip of peninsular Malaysia. Take a few moments if you will, to locate the country on a map somewhere and see if you see the island. It's shaped like a bowling pin.

I can wait.

OK? Let's continue then.

Tioman is so far away from any city center that sure enough, as I had suspected, I was able to gaze up into the heavens, as I had many times and many years before when I served my country in the United States Peace Corps in Kenya. A lot of good memories flowed within and through me as I looked again at our glorious home called the Milky Way, and I could see where we on Earth are positioned within this galaxy, and I could remember again what tiny place I occupied in this universe of ours. I stared deep into that inky blue sky, savoring what might be my last chance to find such a remote place for a long time. The tide was out, and the waves provided the background music, while the salt air moved in and out of my body. I thought a lot about how good my life was, that I had a loving wife and beautiful daughter and that I could share good and bad times with them through my journey on earth. My view of the night sky was relatively unobstructed, as the waning moon would not come out until I was deeply sequestered in sleep in my air conditioned "chalet" that lie just 10 meters behind me as I gazed up.

What was really exciting about that night was the anticipation of seeing a shooting star again. Our home, Earth, is showered daily with bits of ancient rock that find their way to our outer atmosphere, then, in a beautiful brief moment, they penetrate the atmosphere and tumble burning until they are vaporized. If you are good at using your peripheral vision, you can catch a star for the fraction of a second that it takes to burn up. If you are very lucky, you might even get a single second burn-up, or, for the very luckiest, a two-second show. A unique thing about this is that you are probably the only person on earth who gets this show at this particular moment, as if it's a special gift, just for you...

That evening, though, I wasn't alone. I had just finished the second of a two-day vacation there, with my good friends Ann and Shukry Hassan, and their good friends, another married couple Shasha and Rizalo Marcian, a nice young pair in their own right. At 39, I am a good 6 years older than Shukry, who is the oldest of the four. They are all UK educated Malays with respectable jobs (Shukry works for the Ministry of Education and I met him here in Hakodate. Ann is a teacher. Shasha works for the formula 1 circuit in Malaysia and Rizalo is a uni professor turned advertising man). They are, by Malaysian standards, upper middle class, though their income compared to US or Japanese standards, is quite small. I invited them to this special show on the beach, because, as Rizalo had said...what are we gonna do without TV?!?! He said this in a half joking matter, but all of them are children of the media age, more than I. Shukry loves his Playstation 2, and I brought him a popular game unavailable in Malaysia, but easy to get here in Japan.

The night sky induced a state of semi-dreaminess, which was split by Shasha, who asked where the moon was. I said that it would be coming out later in the night. In a surprised voice, she said to me "how do you know that?" and my answer, after thinking back to my Kenya experience, was "I just know."

I didn't really realize how much Kenya was in me. One thing I learned there was the pulsation of the moon. I pretty much know whether the moon is waxing or waning. I pretty much know it's cycle of rising later as it wanes and earlier as it waxes. I love seeing the crescent of the new moon, too. It reminds me a lot of the small ornament on top of the Witu village Mosque. Seeing the crescent is one of the most magical parts of moon watching, almost as if being present at the birth of a new child. Living in that darkness in Kenya made me appreciate the short life that we all have, and makes me live each day as if it might be the last. Work hard, play hard, love hard...the human condition.

After being on our backs in that inky, milky darkness in a half dream state for about 30 minutes of the greatest of all TV shows, the four of them decided to turn in for the night. Our trip back to Kuala Lumpur the next day would consist of a two-hour boat ride back to the mainland, followed by a six-plus hour bus ride, so they wanted to get their beauty sleep.

I, however, took pleasure that I could be in solitude with the Milky Way for a few minutes longer, free of all the stresses of everyday life, and the eventuality of returning back to Japan to work. I took my time, hoping to glance a passing satellite, and follow it on its lonely journey across the face of the sky..but no luck. A few airplanes whispered across at 35,000 feet, and their blinking red and white lights heralded their passing, transporting people and families from one country to the next through the secret night. I looked up again at the Milky Way splotched like a faint cloud behind most of the other distant specs of light dotting the sky. I looked at Pink-brown Venus, our next door neighbor, the brightest light in that night sky. It was so peaceful and beautiful. There I was again: standing tangent to the earth, waiting to leave the gravitational pull and drift into and through that vast expanse of gas and dust from which we all have come. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget my time in Kenya...or those brief 48 hours on Tioman, where I got to see a Kodomo dragon slink away into the bush, a truly giant, and disappearing, species of lizard unique to the region.

The next day, September 11th was different. It consisted of a two-hour ride on a larger boat. I shot some video of my four friends, and they made fun of me and we all had a good laugh. We ate cookies and chips and drank our bottled water. We waved at a few ships of the Singapore Navy resting at Tioman before pursuing the South China Sea pirates, who roamed the area southeast of Tioman, in conjunction with the Malaysian Navy. We watched as we passed by islets tinier than the 6 mile by 2 mile Tioman. I dreamed of building a secluded house with a giant NO TRESSPASSING sign on one of the tiny drops of rock outcropping and establishing the Republic of Larry, population 3, and 3 cats. It was a nice fantasy. We arrived at the jetty town and waited another two hours for the bus. I did some quick email to people, bought some little gifts and said farewell to Tioman. During the sleepless six hour bus ride back to KL, I played helicopter rescue on my Palmtop.

In the game, I was the daring helicopter pilot, rescuing good guys who were jailed up and guarded by bad guys and their rockets, missles and all sorts of bad guy things. I could advance to the next round by rescuing at least 9 of my 12 compatriots. I had six hours to play the game, so I managed, of course, to make the top score of over 1000 points. I worked my way up to being able to rescue 12 guys in each of three rounds before my three helicopter lives were used up. I would lose a guy if they shot down my helicopter.

We stopped to rest for thirty minutes at a roadside rest stop. Malaysia has better than Interstate quality roads these days. They are 4 lane divided highways with large shoulders that band up and down the western side of the peninsula. The rest area was full of Chinese Restaurants and background music of Malaysian Pop Bands played REALLY LOUD. The bands were trying their best to imitate American pop bands, I suppose, and they pretty much sounded like them, only they sung in Bahasa Malaysia, the Malay language. I bought a mask from Sarawak, which is on the Island of Borneo across the South China Sea. There had been some ethic killings between the Christians and Muslim groups on Sarawak recently. People getting decapitated and whatnot nonsense. It's a cheap tourist mask, to be sure, but I like the colors and patterns, and I'm collecting masks now that I bought one on my trip to Bali in 1999. That was it for the bus ride. We got back to KL, said goodbye to Shasha and Rizalo, who disappeared back into the city of 2 million, and took the subway to a taxi and back to Ann and Shukry's. I showered off all that salt water, and dressed for my airplane ride: brown slacks and a long sleeve button down greenish shirt. Airplanes get cool and dry on long routes, and I was scheduled for a six and a half hour redeye commencing from 1:20AM on the 12th.

My bags packed and my body and mind refreshed, we went to an outdoor restaurant. It consisted of stalls selling Indian, Iranian and Malay specialties. There were about 40 tables under a covered area. The menu signs were all in English, my favorite one said "we guarantee you fast service, no matter how long it takes!" Most of the signs, though, I couldn't read as they were in Arabic. Most likely passages from the Koran, I assumed. I had some tandoori chicken and butter chicken with a scrumptious bit of roti bread, round, fat and very nice, to sop up all that buttery oil and curry. To top it all off, I had a mango lassi served, incredibly, in one of those two and a half liter beer steins you see if you drink in a beer hall anywhere in Germany. There was no way I could finish it.

At the table next to us were two guys, one a Malay and the other, his friend, looked of Chinese extraction. It was gratifying to see, really, that Malaysia is a multi-linugal, multi-cultural society where freedom of religion is a very important part of the country, despite the rise of Muslim fundamentalism in some of the northern parts of the peninsula. They were chatting in English to each other on this sultry night. Ann, Shukry and I were all a bit tired from our trip to Tioman. Then, the Malay guys cellphone rang, most folks here have Nokias...they are everywhere and they are all manufactured here these days, along with most computers and hi tech stuff. We tried to ignore him as he talked, but he kept saying something about how first one plane hit, then another hit in the other building. Anyway, we were finished eating so I paid and we left...I had a cab to catch to the airport, which was still another hours' drive away from where we were.

We drove over to Ann's aunt and uncle's house. They lived in a luxurious apartment in a part of KL where all the embassies are. the richest and most sumptous part of town. Needless to say, Ann's uncle is a very successful businessman. I was surprised, because I had met her aunt a week earlier, though I didn't know it at first. The aunt had given me a ride to the Petronas towers, the second tallest towers in the world (China now has the tallest tower, in Shanghai, I think), which contains a gigantic, American style, American class shopping mall, all of six floors and possibly over 150 shops, including a 12 theater cineplex where I saw AI for 3 US bucks. The reason I didn't recognize the aunt at first was that her head was uncovered. She wasn't wearing the head covering that most devout Moslem Women wear in Malaysia, probably because she wasn't out in public and maybe hadn't expected us. She had beautiful long black hair, with heavy accents of gray, for she was, after all, somewhere in her early 60's. Seemed a pity to keep that beautiful head of hair covered up, but that was her belief. I wondered why Ann never wore one. As we came in, they led us to sit down and switched on the TV. They put CNN on. That's when I saw first one plane hit, then another hit in the other building. Within 5 minutes, it was time for me to get into the cab for the drive to the airport. I stood outside with Ann, Shukry, the aunt and uncle. My body was shaking. It was about midnight in KL, exactly 12 hours later than NYC. I shook the uncles hand, it was warm and firm. The aunt let me shake her hand, too. I said goodbye to Shukry and tried to shake Ann's hand, but she gave me a hug instead. I almost forgot to wave goodbye as the cab pulled away, because my body was still shaking.

As I drove to KL International Airport, I couldn't think of anything. We drove by the two towers, the Petronas towers. They were standing there, the second tallest buildings in the world, circled on several floors with beautiful lights, which nevertheless paled in comparison to Tioman's magical milky way, but still, beautiful for their manmade attempt to recreate nature. The highway was empty and we zoomed at 120kph, past Mosques silhouetted against the night sky, past neon signs in Chinese, Malay and English, with the occasional Tamil sign here and there, for there is also an Indian minority here. Just inside the lobby of the airport, again, were huge televisions, all tuned to CNN, and all surrounded by people watching first one plane hit, then the other hit the other building. I went to the toilet, which was situated next to a small prayer room for Muslims. My stomach was suddenly not so good. It would take me about 48 hours to be able to have an appetite again. Later at the departure gate, I stood in line with the other Japanese returning to Nagoya. We had to pass by a bunch of mostly whites heading back to Cape Town. Everyone boarding both flights was getting patted down. First the arms, then the back torso and back legs, then the front torso and finally the front legs. I was asked to open all of my bags that I was carrying on the plane. I had to open a box of three clay cups I had bought for my family in the Petronas Towers mall a few days earlier. I had to unzip every pocket in my camera case, and pull out my video camera and show them that my telephoto lens was a telephoto lens. Then, as I entered the plane, I had to show my passport again, with its gold embossed cover, eagle with the thirteen olive leaves in one claw and thirteen arrows in the other claw, inky blue on the cover, like the night sky of Tioman. "Passport" above the eagle and "United States of America" in italics underneath the eagle. Then we, me and a plane full of Japanese and the sprinkling of Malays (the pilots, too, Malay as this was Malaysian Airlines) went shaking up into the milky way obscured sky, turned to the northeast, I could see out of the left window seat near the rear of the plane those two towers again, such tall towers they were, and then those two towers had passed away.

Ok, had a fun weekend, but you people must know that beaches in Japan are some of the filthiest places you've seen on earth. This from a culture that supposedly enshrines purity...except when it comes to environmental matters. You know, just a few well placed empty trash drums would do wonders..instead, the tiny piece of beach I went to was literally covered with refuse and seagulls picking through it looking for morsels.

Finally, a bit about "summer" in Hakodate this year. The sun came out yesterday, and today, too for that matter. That makes about 5 days that we've had sun and the temperature reached a cozy 25 degrees celsius. I had a nice outdoor nap with plenty of sun block on, though. Very relaxing.

The kid is back in first grade from today, as the one-month summer vacation has flown away. Really amazing that it's over for her.

Lately been investigating all of the alternative spelling movements for the English language. I like Shaw's invented 4 character alphabet, dubbed Shavian. It'll never fly, much like the Dvorak keyboard and the Apple Macintosh. Things that make sense to the world, but for the tyrrany of the ignorant masses, never makes it to make our life easier. Oh, well.

And that's all for today. More when I get the feeling.

I've spent the past three or so days writing writing writing. The PhD proposal is coming along famously, and I suppose I should post a draft of it here? Nah!

I'm also writing another article for the upcoming symposium in Kuala Lumpur.

I'm looking into doing some scuba diving in Malaysia, then get some nicer certification when I return to Hakodate. Now THAT would be very cool. I can't forget being 10 meters down in Bali and looking up at a huge school of something or other well above me. That was unforgettable, and I look forward to doing it again.

In other news...well, nothing really. What a boring guy! Where are those succinct insights that people are looking for? I suppose they're around here somewhere waiting to be picked up and turned inside out before I put them back on my feet.

Ok, here's something exciting. I've ordered a server for my MOO project, so the GHOTI BOWL MOO will soon be a reality. I think I'll have a class competition for making a logo and sign on page for it. That'll be fun.

Yeah, that's all for today folks.

Hi Blog! Long time no see. Is that a surprise? Probably not. Long periods of silence are good for the soul, or so I've heard. The reason for the silence is the busy schedule and the laziness to come here and jot down a few notes day by day. it's a pretty interesting discipline, if one can keep to it.

OK, quick comment. Yesterday I watched the video THE BEACH with DiCaprio. One day, writers will have something nice for the guy, who has a lot of potential, but meanwhile, what a bunch of tripe that film was. Why? Oh, PULEEZE, how contrived can one get? A secret community of westerners in Thailand.

That's all I have to say. Stay tuned people. You'll get sproadic updates.

Slack slack slack! I ain't never going back!

OK, so I'm a bit sporadic so far with the public logs. No excuse really. So, shall I discipline myself and make sure that something gets put down here every day? Yeah, I suppose I can handle that.

OK, so, um...well, nothing to report...all is well! I am NOT in denial! Never!

Just trying to organize the troops for my PHD project. Charles at Nanzan in Nagoya is being really good. He's peeking at the MOO after I sold him on it's potential for recreating in text some of the peculiarities of early 20th century New Orelans! Well, if he is game, then I am game, too. Glad to have him aboard.

Reading other people's BLOGs is also interesting, so I'll have to get all designy and stuff.

I'm now working on two movie shorts in time for the end of the month festivities. We're having a "Communication Week" here at the uni. I'll be singing some cover songs from Santana (Black Magic Woman and Smooth) and a bunch of Beatles stuff, too. Yep, it's a busy time. NO WONDER I haven't written anything in this blog for awhile. Time flies!

I had a day off! Now I remember what that's like. Japan has really changed me into a kind of workaholic, though I try religiously to stay with my slacker roots.

I walked around the old part of town. There is a lot of modern history here (meaning the latter half of the 19th century), and buildings that correspond with those times. I had a nice tripod and video camera to take some shots, and I'm now editing. I'll add my own soundtrack and I estimate having a 6 to 10 minute films ready by the end of June. Hooray!

Other than that...well, life goes on as usual...what a boring log entry, huh? Well, give me some time and I'll get into writing a lot more.

This is one of those weird nights again. Passed out from exhaustion in the couch potato chair and drifted in and out of sleep while watching the usual "comedy-variety" shows on Japanese TV, which all consist of a bunch of untalented folks called "talento" in Katakana, all sitting around and hitting each other over the head while saying "What are you saying?" Then, they all laugh and do it all over again.

So, I drag myself into bed and POOF, I'm wide awake. SIGH.

Yeah, I'm gonna write about the weather (how mundane can one get?). It is very changeable here. We had a warm sunny day which turned into a chilly, slightly rainy night. The next couple of days will be those grey, STAY-IN-BED type days. However, there will be no time to do that.

I helped some of the students make a short movie today. Got to rollerskate for no particular reason, and drive my car backwards for about 1/4 of a kilometer. Perhaps, when the movie is done, I can post a link here. Not getting fancy with the blog yet, but I suppose it will eventually. OK, enough said for the day. HUNH!

It has been a harrowing week. There has been a lot to do, and a lot going on.

Here in Japan, they do a sporting event called UN-DO-KAI (all vowel pronounced as short versions, so U as in spOOn, O as in grOAn, AI as in whY). I had to purchase two sets of training jerseys with matching shorts and long pants, so that she can practice this week. She is in first grade. All the other kids' parents had to do the same. It's an interesting way to keep the economy stimulated, though it obviously hasn't been working well for some time.

Sunday, my day to sleep in, I have to wake up EARLIER than is usual for a weekday to go to the event. We'll spend a half day there as all the kids run and dance and jump and do all that play type stuff.

I finally came up with the soundtrack to my next mini-movie. I'll be composing some music to go along with the images. Here in Hakodate, there are remenants of old fireproof storage houses around the older part of the city. They are of fascinating structure, and in various stages of decay, renewal and disrepair. It will be a mixture of a montage of these images, interspeced with my vocals, and some spoken narration bordering on poetry to boot. Should be fun to make a straight movie without interactivity. That's coming up next, actually.

More when my feet unfreeze. This northern climate is a KILLER!

Just spent a few hours working up a "GESTALT" for your communications group at FUN. I love the creative experience it entailed. Wish we had more chance to do that, but dealing with a LOT of bureaucracy more than anything else.

Anyway, my Gestalt was the word YES, which I chose from the John meets Yoko archive of interesting ideas. John Lennon went to an art exhibit by Yoko. Apparently, there was a white room with a ladder in the middle. At the top of the ladder, there was a magnifying glass attached to the ceiling. John climbed the ladder and looked through the magnifying glass at what looked like a speck of dirt. However, it wasn't a speck of dirt, it was a very tiny word written. With the magnifying glass, John read the word YES. He thought it was one of the most positive experiences he had ever had.

So, experiences and YES are what led me to the Gestalt.

Busy busy... Yeah, right.

Blogger had a story about a 19-year old who died of Leukemia recently. Very sad, but not sad, as the girl obviously chose to celebrate her life, not fear her death. Nice repositioning!

I'll be having two folks moving in with me shortly. My mother-in-law, coming up from Kyushu and a Canadian Woman named Cara, who is just finishing her two years here in Japan. Suddenly the house will be full, which is actually a nice thing. We humans are social animals, and even little Ayaka and I can't just be together by ourselves all the time. Ayaka's friends come over, but not enough, because they live kind of far away.

OK, well, this is mundane stuff. I just wanted to have SOMETHING written here, but back to doing a whole bunch of stuff. I'll write about my very first out of body teaching experience when I get the chance.

To observe the passing of Douglas Adams, my G3, circa 1997 also passed on yesterday. Despite repeated attempts at resusitation, I have concluded that something in the hardware must be fried. Of course, I had severe computer withdrawl symptoms last night, where even at one point, I said out loud to myself "What am I supposed to *DO* tonight?? Man, oh man! I have GOT to get a life. Aside from that, I find myself chatting with a lot of people from the past right now through various internet technologies...so there must be something to all of it.

As I went to bed earlier than usual, from having no computer to play with until 2 or 3 in the morning, I woke up earlier than usual, at about 5AM. This was interesting, because I could easily doze off, have a quick dream, then wake up and fully remember the dream.

So, the dream I had was that I took one of those flat low carts with wheels for moving big boxes, and I got on it and used it like one of those new scooter thingies. There I was, scooting down some long corridor in some building, sorry, no details here because I don't remember, when I came upon a group of four boys who were standing abreast each other so that they were blocking the path way through the hall into a more upcoming open space. As I pulled up behind them, and feeling a bit peeved that they would get in my way like that, I started to say something, when one of the boys moved out of the way to let me through. The boys were staring at some sight straight ahead and as I passed them, I, too looked at what they were looking at: for isn't that the natural propensity of everyone?

Beyond them was a lobby of sorts, so perhaps I was in some hotel or convention center. The boys were looking at one of those long, graceful arched staircases. The kind used in the Titanic, or any luxury hotel where people want to make a grand entrance from the second floor to the first would go. Thing was, the staircase, and the entire surrounding area, including the space up on the second floor where the staircase was arching to, were absolutely cluttered with people. I don't remember what the people looked like, but everyone in the scene was standing there stone still and stunned. The other thing is: they were all holding a copy of the same photograph and looking at the photo, then glancing off where I couldn't see, like the photograph was of the scene they were looking at. There were a lot of surprised and shocked faces bobbing back and forth between photo and off where I couldn't see...and then I woke up, back into the netherworld of not-yet-awakeness.

Perhaps I'll make sense of it one day? Ya think?

Oh, the blog worked! Hip hip!

So now, being of the acadmic variety (and well trained as a creative writer), I've been scrambling to put together a proposal to start my own full-blown MOO. We should all have these personal worlds, which I see as the new form of literary release.

The theme is of course the GHOTI Bowl (c'mon GHOTI is pronounced "FISH"), the place where all can see me and there is no place to hide. It's a bit stressful, but exciting, too.

More later. Just glad to see that the GHOTI Bowl blog is working!

Hello? Hello? Is this microphone on? Now I know how Lenny Bruce felt.

Why the GHOTI Bowl? Well, check with George Bernard Shaw, unless he is still dead...but basically because I've been trying to figure out the dream I had sometime in early November, 1995 in which I declared to myself "CULTURE IS A GHOTI". It started my first website theme (lying idle at www.webcom.com/lbdavies).

It has something to do with a cause/effect relationship of personal identity. Confused? Me, too. Stay tuned and I'll paste in lots of old stuff, too.

Comments? Can you post them here? I haven't a clue. Ignorance is bliss, right? RIGHT?

I've now been trying to publish this for the last 24 hours with no luck. This is what I mean by pain-in-the-ass technology. Four simple steps, yet I keep getting error messages. SIGH.

Still no luck getting this published. Error codes and more error codes. One day, the world will see this, though. Meanwhile, I'll just quietly stress out in front of my keyboard and wonder why I'm not the center of the universe.