Archive for February, 2008

All Survival Mix

I've finally made a new mix! This time it's all tunes by my favourite producer of last year, Survival. It includes tunes in his earlier incarnation as part of Banaczech and as part of L.I.S. with Chris Inperspective. Here's the tracklist:

1: Shady Lane: Banaczech: Warm Communications
2: Doubler: Banaczech: Partisan
3: The Key: L.I.S.: Exit Records
4: Zlin & Back: Banaczech: Partisan
(Tease: Sidewinder: Survival: DNAudio)
5: Day Stopper: L.I.S.: Renegade Recordings
6: Ipcress File: Banaczech: Partisan
7: Kensal Rise: Survival: Inperspective Records
8: Window Quay: L.I.S.: Dispatch Recordings
(Tease: Friendly Fire: Survival: Horizons Music)
9: Gem: Survival: SGN:LTD
10: Ion 2: Survival: Integral Records
11: Tron: Survival: SGN:LTD
12: Contact: Survival: SGN:LTD
13: The Jam: Survival: Integral Records
14: Stasis: Survival: Play:Music
(Tease: Cold Blood: Zero Tolerance & Survival: Revolution Records)
15: U457 (Born Adrift): Survival: Exit Records
16: Karlin: Banaczech: Partisan

Download it here or on my mixes page

Kalamari

On the third stair down from the platform at the station yesterday morning, there was a squid. The squid was dead. It had two arms reaching onto the second stair from the top, but the majority of it's body was firmly on the third stair. The other passengers walked past it without really noticing it, or at least, without really paying it any attention. I couldn't believe it! This was a mystery indeed. After extensive research, I have come to the following conclusions: I believe that there are three possible likely reasons for the squid to have been found like this:

  1. The squid was being carried to a fish restaurant in the station arcade area, and managed to flop out of the box it was being carried in onto the top of the stairs before its need for liquid overcame it. In this light the achievement is quite extraordinary and the squid should be praised for its remarkable, valiant effort.
  2. The squid was sucked into the air, out at sea by a freak water-based tornado and then unceremoniously dumped onto the ground at the station when the tornado suddenly blew itself out. I don't think that this is a particularly likely reason due to the scarcity of tornados in the area in recent weeks, although if indeed it is the real reason, the squid must be comiserated for its sheer bad luck.
  3. The squid, a prisoner-of-war at a Octopus internment camp, managed to escape with many of his fellow prisoners-of-war in an intended 250 prisoner-break, and having briefly studied Octopusese, had managed to fool the guards on an Octopus train into believing that he was an Octopus, only to fall prey to the oldest-trick-in-the-book and answers in Squidish when the cunning Octopus officer wishes him luck and then flees only to be gunned down when he reaches between the second and third steps of the station, so nearly out of reach of the Octopi guns, where he is discovered the next day by me. This is clearly the most likely explanation, especially with the infamous Octopi/Squid war that has been raging around us for years now. We can only pray that his sacrifice will inspire other Squid in the years to come.

The 6.52 From Mitaka

One of my favourite times of the day is the moment when my morning train ascends from the tunnels under Tokyo and, on a good day, is flooded with sunshine as the train climbs above the roofs of the city's hinterland. The gray concrete slabs of housing estates, box & packing factories, and suburban schools are turned peach pink by the low, early winter sun.

The residents of the 6.52 from Mitaka consist of the usual morning's quarry. At the other end of the bench from me, a couple of kids, who probably met for the first time the night before, lean symbiotically on eachother, sleeping with serious faces. The boy's laces have become entwined with some of the straps on the girl's handbag. The train crosses a bridge. The Pacific is almost visible through the mist of diffused exhaust fumes.

A woman at the end of the carriage is awakened by the enka theme of her phone. She commences a conversation that is slightly too loud for the sanctity of the carriage. She seems confused by the person at the other end of the line. She speaks only in aggressive, bewildered questions. Other passengers look at her, worried that they may have to interact with her in some way. To their relief, she gets off at the next stop, finishing her call as she walks, determined towards her exit. The train goes over another river. The world's most unappealing hotel floats past, sharing a small island with a large industrial plant.

At the top of the carriage, a woman stands, apparently unaware of the embarrassment of free seats around her. She is wearing a black suit and looks effortlessly elegant, bordering on cruel. It is as if she has been mistakenly plucked from a street in Ginza, and as yet has not deigned to notice. She uses her phone and nothing can be heard. The train pulls into Myoden station. Terminal.

The doors open. People begin to get off. The man opposite sleeps on. He has a child-like look of contentment, in his dream the soundtrack should be Louis Armstrong. He is wearing a suit and has clearly slept past his stop. He should never have left the tunnels. There is a slight stain of some kind of condiment on his collar. The man from the Metro jumps onto the train to check for stragglers. He shakes the man's shoulder. "Wake up, wake up, sir", he says, much more softly than I had expected. The man's face changes as he gradually comprehends. It is like watching someone go from the hope of early childhood to the worry of middle age in a couple of seconds. Sorrow touches his face for just a moment before it is replaced by the panic of his situation as he jumps and stumbles from the train in a vain attempt to reach the train now stopping at the opposite platform, to make his way back to the office in time.

Another day starts in Tokyo.

Honeyee x Fragment x Nintendo DS Lite

Jack-of-all-trades Fujiwara Hiroshi announced this Honeyee x Fragment x Nintendo DS Lite. I really like the colour scheme on this one, the black outer with the white inside is pretty slick. I really can't see myself buying another DS Lite though, especially as I hardly ever play the one(s) I have. Nintendo needs to step up with the DS Lite games in my opinion. Everyone always bangs on about DS being so much better than PSP, but I have about 10 times the number of games on my PSP, and apart from Mario and Zelda, have nothing on my DS. Still, it is pretty. Click on the picture to see the inside.

Desktop Boredom

No lessons at work today. At my current school, they have a system where the schedule changes every week. I think it's due to this school being one of the biggest in the city and thereby having too many classes to fit them all into a regular schedule, so instead making a new one every week, according to the school events and whatnot seemed (to someone) to be a much better idea. Of course what this means in reality is that my schedule is never even considered until about lunchtime on Monday morning, with my first lessons generally taking place around Tuesday afternoon. Not that I am complaining - it makes for a very pleasant, relaxing start to the week, with ample opportunity to catch up on the few dusty corners of the internet I am yet to read and to (not) study, and, as today, to play about on Photoshop. Today, I made this desktop/picture/thing of Suzuki Emi. She is a model/actress who, despite (or perhaps, because of) being very pretty, is probably about one stuttering, synaptic fart away from total brain death.

Valentine’s Haul

My Valentine's haul this year is looking pretty good! It's going to be an expensive White Day this year! Happy Valentine's!

Why are you here?

The city in which I do my daily penance, Ichikawa, is twinned with the city of Rosenheim in Bavaria, Germany (birthplace of Hermann Goering according to Wikipedia...hmm). Every year, the Junior High Schools of Ichikawa and Rosenheim take part in a school exchange project, a cultural exchange where a few Japanese students are introduced to the world outside their city and a few German students are thrust into the world inside Japan. It still confuses me a little as to whether there is an academic purpose of the trip, at least any deeper than allowing students to have a look at schools/societies on the other side of the world (which even alone is, of course, a valuable opportunity). The Japanese schools at least, seem to treat the trip as an English learning opportunity for the Japanese students, which is a little strange, seeing as the German students, while aeons ahead of their Japanese counterparts, are still not native English speakers.

The Japanese students all went over to Rosenheim in the summer. There seems to be no real theory at work in choosing which students will go over to Germany. I don't know who went from this school, but at my old school, the girl who went certainly wasn't the best at English, and she didn't even really want to go. I honestly think that the decision is probably made in a room, deep within the bowels of city hall, where the luminaries of the Ichikawa Board of Education sit around a fire, chanting arcane incantations and pulling bones out of a cauldron; bones on which the heat of the fire has scorched the names of the students that shall go.

Most of the Japanese students end up coming back from Germany with a new look in their eyes. They begin to scorn the behavior of their (male) peers that now seems so pathetically immature, and generally apply themselves to their studies with much greater dedication, especially so in English. I imagine that they all then go to decent high schools and universities and then to high paid jobs overseas, forever grateful to whatever fates it was that plucked them from academic obscurity.

The German students have a different experience awaiting them when they get to Japan. By the time they are probably preparing to come to Japan, it usually happens that one or more of the Japanese families that are supposed to be welcoming them into their homes will, now facing the imminent arrival of a foreigner (can you imagine?) into their very homes (where their children sleep, no less!!), have pulled out of the exchange and run away to he hills, screaming in terror and fearrrrrr. This means that the teachers of the school here will have to try to find another host family for the student, which is no easy task. They often ask among the teachers for a suitable candidate, and eventually can be heard suggesting (seriously) that the best idea for the Japanese/German cultural exchange would be that the ALTs (all of whom are English/American/Australian/Canadian etc.), should take the German students in. Bloody ridiculous. Eventually though, a kind family can be unearthed and the student arrives at the school.

The poor girls who arrived in the city schools today, were immediately thrust into classes to run the gamet of Japanese school subjects - Maths, Japanese, English, Revised-History (where, to their surprise, they find out that they had been the good-guys in WW2), and so on. All the classes are conducted in Japanese and they have no idea what the hell is going on. Sooner or later, they are introduced to the ALTs (me! - the lucky, lucky girl), and they can finally speak to someone who can understand English. The girl at my school (a very sweet 14 year old who towers above the 14 year olds here and speaks excellent English), had a lot of questions. As there had been no official welcome from anyone at the school, she hadn't been told what she was meant to be doing all day, nor if anything was expected of her and was very confused. She was also confused as to why none of the English teachers could speak English! This particularly amused me, as it's what I've been saying for years. The Japanese kids were all desperate to speak to her and in their excitement had forgotton the miniscule amount of English they had once almost known. Their questions to her were coming thick and fast now that I was around to translate: "What like food are you?!" WHAT LIKE FOOD ARE YOU?!!" "HOW STUDENTS DO HAVE??!" "What boy? WHAT BBOOYY?" and she was just about managing to roll with the punches.

It was then that she turned to me, and, in a devastatingly calm voice through the sea of screaming students engulfing her, asked me question was pertinent on so many levels: "Why are you here?"

Realising that I didn't know, I was suddenly lost for words. I could have cried.