Approximately 65.5 million years ago at the end of the Mesozoic Era a fiery comet struck the earth’s surface provoking environmental changes so monumental that not even the mightiest of dinosaur species survived.
In 49 BC, Julius Caesar consolidated control of the Roman Republic and used his status to reduce the voices of those opposed to him and assume veto power over the Senate, gradually assuming the role of dictator. This precedent of singular control would remain as the Empire reigned, declined, and eventually fell.
On June 28th, 1914, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife were assassinated, triggering the war that would end all wars and forever change the face of Europe and the world.
On the evening of May 6th, 1937, the German airship LZ 129 Hindenburg crashed near Manchester, New Jersey when the flammable hydrogen inside caught fire and exploded. The accident was seen by millions of theatergoers, and overnight the publicity ended the pursuit of airship technology.
On February 17th, at approximately 4:15 PM Japan Standard time, I signed a contract for my first cell phone. It’s a sleek gold color, and the woman behind the counter kindly switched the language to English. Now I just have to figure out how to use it.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Overstimulated
When last we checked, our hero was preparing to climb aboard a plane to escape the emptiness of his post-college life in New Hampshire—leaving his friends, his family, and his Nabokov collection behind—to teach English in Japan in hope of fulfilling his craving for adventure, finally attaining independence, paying back his student loans, and padding his resume to make himself more attractive to potential employers back in the States.
There’s a lot to see here—not so much at the Seminar House, where the trainers all speak English and we’re surrounded by textbooks and Western-style office furniture all day long; but outside in Omiya where I venture out with the others. The streets are full of activity all day and night; a flurry of sights and sounds that overwhelm the senses and leave me feeling dizzy and stupefied after too much stimulation. There are tall buildings that rise up near the train station, hung with banners and flashing neon lights that beam advertisements all across the city. There are brick and concrete apartments in a rainbow of whites, grays, browns, blacks and brick patterns that give the streets a distinct otherworldly feeling. There are strange road signs whose meanings (aside from the universal blue P) I cannot decipher, pointing the way to frantic drivers in their Toyotas, Hondas, Nissans, and the occasional Volkswagon. There are signs—everywhere signs—read horizontally, vertically, and in cartoonish half circles. There are the alleys and the side streets, the suburban blocks and the overpasses, the zig-zag intersections crossing every which way, and the narrow one-ways where cars squeeze between one another and bike-riders of all ages reign supreme; convenience stores and vegetable markets and electronics stores and hair salons with outrageous prices posted outside the windows next to restaurants with plastic food replicas in glass cases alongside tiny luncheon houses with long counters where businessmen and young people sit alone munching noodles with pachinko parlors on every street that draw my eyes with their colored lights and loud noises (for everything in Japan seems to flash, flash, FLASH! turning the streets into epilepsy-inducing spectacles that would put even the most spectacular American laser light shows to shame) and there are arcades too in the red (pink?) light district where the strippers dressed in skintight outfits stand outside calling out to the Japanese businessmen on their night out and still more posters list the girls promoting promises of pleasure inside and other shops that must sell sex next to the famed Love Hotels that charge by the hour and now all of us are getting wierded out and it’s time to turn around back past the wooden-doored bars and the karaoke rooms one that Shirley says is good cheap but expensive after eleven for people who really live the night life here back to the station where the taxis wait in a massive square the McDonalds pictures show sandwiches that haven’t been dressed up by crews to make them look their best oh no for everything here exists in a random jumble of activity that makes my head spin and sometimes I have to look down at the yellow line they’ve installed to help the blind people walk just like the different lengths of the yen that’s easy to convert all you do is pretend theyre pennies times ten single yen coins are useless and light like a ticket token at funspot which looks like an antique machine shop compared to the rows of games here street fighter 4 horse racing photo booths drum games like in lost in translation but people here sit slumped over their machines smoking endless cigarettes the smoke so thick go and get some air tom says the men here all get sucked into their games leaving women unfulfilled take advantage hard to say so many of them everywhere walking strolling talking looking vivacious welldressed smiling highcheeked brighteyed staring everyone staring at us gaijin trying to hide it not just girls longhair some dyed blond funny idea for a style do they so admire the west that they desire to emulate us so many ways even writing everywhere jumps out not like kanji my mind skips over makes no sense but kana try to read looks like —shujin tsuma— kamari—no—— that’s too much for now have to leave this night life behind because Im tired and I think I need to lie down.
There’s a lot to see here—not so much at the Seminar House, where the trainers all speak English and we’re surrounded by textbooks and Western-style office furniture all day long; but outside in Omiya where I venture out with the others. The streets are full of activity all day and night; a flurry of sights and sounds that overwhelm the senses and leave me feeling dizzy and stupefied after too much stimulation. There are tall buildings that rise up near the train station, hung with banners and flashing neon lights that beam advertisements all across the city. There are brick and concrete apartments in a rainbow of whites, grays, browns, blacks and brick patterns that give the streets a distinct otherworldly feeling. There are strange road signs whose meanings (aside from the universal blue P) I cannot decipher, pointing the way to frantic drivers in their Toyotas, Hondas, Nissans, and the occasional Volkswagon. There are signs—everywhere signs—read horizontally, vertically, and in cartoonish half circles. There are the alleys and the side streets, the suburban blocks and the overpasses, the zig-zag intersections crossing every which way, and the narrow one-ways where cars squeeze between one another and bike-riders of all ages reign supreme; convenience stores and vegetable markets and electronics stores and hair salons with outrageous prices posted outside the windows next to restaurants with plastic food replicas in glass cases alongside tiny luncheon houses with long counters where businessmen and young people sit alone munching noodles with pachinko parlors on every street that draw my eyes with their colored lights and loud noises (for everything in Japan seems to flash, flash, FLASH! turning the streets into epilepsy-inducing spectacles that would put even the most spectacular American laser light shows to shame) and there are arcades too in the red (pink?) light district where the strippers dressed in skintight outfits stand outside calling out to the Japanese businessmen on their night out and still more posters list the girls promoting promises of pleasure inside and other shops that must sell sex next to the famed Love Hotels that charge by the hour and now all of us are getting wierded out and it’s time to turn around back past the wooden-doored bars and the karaoke rooms one that Shirley says is good cheap but expensive after eleven for people who really live the night life here back to the station where the taxis wait in a massive square the McDonalds pictures show sandwiches that haven’t been dressed up by crews to make them look their best oh no for everything here exists in a random jumble of activity that makes my head spin and sometimes I have to look down at the yellow line they’ve installed to help the blind people walk just like the different lengths of the yen that’s easy to convert all you do is pretend theyre pennies times ten single yen coins are useless and light like a ticket token at funspot which looks like an antique machine shop compared to the rows of games here street fighter 4 horse racing photo booths drum games like in lost in translation but people here sit slumped over their machines smoking endless cigarettes the smoke so thick go and get some air tom says the men here all get sucked into their games leaving women unfulfilled take advantage hard to say so many of them everywhere walking strolling talking looking vivacious welldressed smiling highcheeked brighteyed staring everyone staring at us gaijin trying to hide it not just girls longhair some dyed blond funny idea for a style do they so admire the west that they desire to emulate us so many ways even writing everywhere jumps out not like kanji my mind skips over makes no sense but kana try to read looks like —shujin tsuma— kamari—no—— that’s too much for now have to leave this night life behind because Im tired and I think I need to lie down.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Departure
Christ. This is it. My last night in New Hampshire.
I'm nervous, sure, as I always am before uncertain experiences; but mostly incredibly excited at what lies ahead, combined with a large dose of hectic packing craziness. There's a lot of things I'm not going to miss at all (barking dogs, snowy driveways, early painting mornings, questions about my life's direction, arguing parents, car problems, loneliness, heart-crushing memories, commuting, my parents' friends, more loneliness, dim-witted yokels, and lazy kids) and a lot that I will. Of course, I'd make a full list of the people and things I miss that I've already lost to one degree or another, but my plane leaves in seven hours.
Wish me luck.
I'm nervous, sure, as I always am before uncertain experiences; but mostly incredibly excited at what lies ahead, combined with a large dose of hectic packing craziness. There's a lot of things I'm not going to miss at all (barking dogs, snowy driveways, early painting mornings, questions about my life's direction, arguing parents, car problems, loneliness, heart-crushing memories, commuting, my parents' friends, more loneliness, dim-witted yokels, and lazy kids) and a lot that I will. Of course, I'd make a full list of the people and things I miss that I've already lost to one degree or another, but my plane leaves in seven hours.
Wish me luck.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Loss
There are occasional moments in life where one comes within an arm’s length of total happiness. You know the ones I mean—times where we cast aside all the pain and anguish and self-doubt that incessantly hounds our ever-disheartening lives and embrace a new reality where we cease to yearn and a blissful future beckons brightly from afar. The emotion is so great that we want to sing, laugh, and giggle uncontrollably in an attempt to share our feelings with the world. Think back right now to a time when you knew true happiness, along with her soulmate love; back to a time when your heart fluttered, your mind was clear, and your every sense was enraptured in the fullness of the moment. That’s what it feels like to be alive.
But sooner or later we always screw it up. Some all too-human sputtering of indecision, selfishness, or thoughtlessness always intervenes, and we lose that which brought us so much happiness. We torment the ones we love—and to what end? To experience that one nanosecond of pride at having control, followed by the inevitable crash, that familiar panic, and the heartbreaking knowledge that we’ve let love slip away. In the quest for emotional fulfillment, we’re our own worst enemy, forced to tread on, regretting the decisions we’ve made, and driven to mind-bending extremes by thoughts of what might have been.
The other day I saw the first season of Kids in the Hall on DVD for ten dollars but did not purchase it.
Will I ever stumble across such a bargain again? Who knows. But one thing’s for sure—we’ll always have the whores.
But sooner or later we always screw it up. Some all too-human sputtering of indecision, selfishness, or thoughtlessness always intervenes, and we lose that which brought us so much happiness. We torment the ones we love—and to what end? To experience that one nanosecond of pride at having control, followed by the inevitable crash, that familiar panic, and the heartbreaking knowledge that we’ve let love slip away. In the quest for emotional fulfillment, we’re our own worst enemy, forced to tread on, regretting the decisions we’ve made, and driven to mind-bending extremes by thoughts of what might have been.
The other day I saw the first season of Kids in the Hall on DVD for ten dollars but did not purchase it.
Will I ever stumble across such a bargain again? Who knows. But one thing’s for sure—we’ll always have the whores.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Mr. Chen's Ramen Recipe
Looking to spice up those same old MSG-filled ramen noodles with something hearty that still costs less than a trip to the claw machine at the bowling alley? Why not try adding an egg for richer flavor?
You will need:
1 Package of Ramen Noodles (I recommend either Oriental or Roast Beef flavored)
1 Egg
Olive Oil (optional)
Vegetables (optional)
Cooking Time: 5 minutes
1. In a pot, boil just enough water to cover the block of Ramen.
2. If desired, add whatever vegetables you like (Mr. Chen recommends frozen peas, Chinese cabbage, mushrooms, or broccoli) and cook for several minutes, depending on the vegetable. (You're on your own here.)
3. Crack an egg into the pot, but do NOT stir. Let boil for 2 minutes, then turn over with a spoon.
4. Add block of Ramen to water, and cook for 3 minutes until done.
5. Turn heat off. Add contents of flavor packet along with a dash of Olive Oil.
Serve and enjoy. Goes well with a tuna sandwich for a low-budget yet filling lunch. As Mr. Chen would say: "It's a small piece of cake!"
You will need:
1 Package of Ramen Noodles (I recommend either Oriental or Roast Beef flavored)
1 Egg
Olive Oil (optional)
Vegetables (optional)
Cooking Time: 5 minutes
1. In a pot, boil just enough water to cover the block of Ramen.
2. If desired, add whatever vegetables you like (Mr. Chen recommends frozen peas, Chinese cabbage, mushrooms, or broccoli) and cook for several minutes, depending on the vegetable. (You're on your own here.)
3. Crack an egg into the pot, but do NOT stir. Let boil for 2 minutes, then turn over with a spoon.
4. Add block of Ramen to water, and cook for 3 minutes until done.
5. Turn heat off. Add contents of flavor packet along with a dash of Olive Oil.
Serve and enjoy. Goes well with a tuna sandwich for a low-budget yet filling lunch. As Mr. Chen would say: "It's a small piece of cake!"
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Meme
I've never actually posted a meme before, but I'm feeling whimsical and thought I'd give it a try, even though this blog's readership probably numbers less than four at the moment. But what the hey, it's all in good fun, right?
I'm also afraid that my continual lack of updates have made this blog stale, so expect a slight revamp/change of focus soon.
The Crazy-Curious Meme
Answer the following questions about the Meme poster and repost on your own journal as you wish. Tag 10 people to answer.
1. The love of my life:
2. Where you and I met:
3. Take a stab at my middle name:
4. How long you've known me:
5. The last time that we saw each other:
6. Would I ever go sky diving?
7. Your first impression of me upon meeting me/seeing me:
8. Am I funny?
9. My favorite type of music:
10. Can I sing?
11. The best feature about me:
12. What do I want to do more than anything?
13. What is one thing that you think I should do?
14. Do I have any special talents? If so, what are they?
15. Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else?
16. Have you ever hugged me?
17. My favorite food:
18. Have you ever had a crush on me?
19. If there was one good nickname for me, it would be:
20. Your favorite memory of me:
21. If you and I were stranded on a desert island, I would bring:
... and you would bring:
22. Do I believe in God?
23. Who is my best friend?
24. What is my favorite book?
25. Will you repost this so I can fill this out for you?
I'm also afraid that my continual lack of updates have made this blog stale, so expect a slight revamp/change of focus soon.
The Crazy-Curious Meme
Answer the following questions about the Meme poster and repost on your own journal as you wish. Tag 10 people to answer.
1. The love of my life:
2. Where you and I met:
3. Take a stab at my middle name:
4. How long you've known me:
5. The last time that we saw each other:
6. Would I ever go sky diving?
7. Your first impression of me upon meeting me/seeing me:
8. Am I funny?
9. My favorite type of music:
10. Can I sing?
11. The best feature about me:
12. What do I want to do more than anything?
13. What is one thing that you think I should do?
14. Do I have any special talents? If so, what are they?
15. Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else?
16. Have you ever hugged me?
17. My favorite food:
18. Have you ever had a crush on me?
19. If there was one good nickname for me, it would be:
20. Your favorite memory of me:
21. If you and I were stranded on a desert island, I would bring:
... and you would bring:
22. Do I believe in God?
23. Who is my best friend?
24. What is my favorite book?
25. Will you repost this so I can fill this out for you?
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