Monday, 29 October 2012

STILL ALIVE AND WRITING


Three items:

1. Our Man (above) is still alive.
2. He's working on a collection of essays for a Christmas book.
3. He's got one essay in the can and it could hit Amazon as soon as Thursday.
4. The cover is done for Thursday's essay and here it is:



5. Death to the petit-bourgeois tyranny of correctly numbered lists.
6. Here's an online interview with Our Man that appeared in a real print magazine just recently.
7. Carry on.

Sunday, 28 October 2012

RUN (OR WALK VERY SWIFTLY) FOR MY LIFE



Time to dust off the old running shoes and this old video from a few years back now... because tomorrow Our Man may die. That is, he is going to attempt, despite pitifully little training this year, to run the annual half-marathon. His best time, clocked last year, was just under 2 hours for the 21 and a bit kilometres. This year, he might not bother timing himself. But he will finish dammit.

He's not doing it for charity this year, figuring in these pre-Christmas and post-Savile days, the pleas for cash will fall on deaf ears. But, in lieu of flowers on his grave, please consider donating a couple of yen at the side of the blog here so we're not too out of pocket helping a couple of teenagers from Tohoku who lost their Dads to the tsunami have a good Christmas.

Anyway, I may try live-tweeting the race this time, synchronise watches for 10am Central Abiko Standard Time.

Oh yeah. This is Our Man's cover disguise for tomorrow...


Gotta go. Just enough time for that pre-race nightcap Guinness. Vitamins and stuff, yeah?

Carry on.

Friday, 26 October 2012

THUNDERSTRUCK: SEASON OF THE CRAZED FRUIT ISHIHARA


A few hours ago, Shintaro Ishihara announced an October surprise worthy of The Trump, that he was quitting his window seat at Tokyo city hall to run for Parliament. Go ahead laugh that an Octogenarian could have ambitions to become leader of this great nation. At 80-years-young, Shin-chan has still much to offer. He may not have all his own teeth, or marbles, but he does have his own party. And we can cry if we want to.

Consider his diplomatic prowess with China, his ability to deny the rape of Nanking (must have been God's will, eh Shin?) and, er, ability to get elected despite it all.

What an inspiration.

Need any English teachers in England? Asking for a friend.

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Tuesday, 23 October 2012

MORE INSULTS, PLEASE


As usual, it's left to the comedians of this world to make the most serious of points. As Guido Fawkes says, well worth 10 minutes of your time. Carry on.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

DEADLINES, DEADLINES

Deadlines can be missed, much unlike death, which tends not to care for excuses.

Such thoughts have been pretty dominant these last few days in the bunker, what with the sudden, though not unexpected, death of Our Woman's old man two weeks ago this Friday. There's much Our Man would like to say about the whole absurd thing, but right now, right here, is perhaps not the time or place for such thoughts. However, while my wife has been grieving, I have been structuring my observations of the old man's life and death into an essay, that I would call "Final Fare" (the father-in-law was a taxi driver, you see, that makes the title oh so clever) but it might never see the light of day if the boss nixes the idea.

And I wouldn't blame her. Some things ought to remain personal, even in this connected age in which there is nothing new under the cctv eye, or anti-social in the social media world, and certainly nothing sacred when Our Man is around. That was kind of the idea of his keeping a fig leaf of anonymity, by the way, so that he could flit in and out of the real world and observe without engaging, or keep some level of honesty above and beyond the political that becomes inevitable when personal, real identities are used.

But of course, the earthquake changed all that. Our Man became as real as the identity of the person he was protecting and now he's just another brand like Softbank, Snickers or the Rolling Stones. Maintaining anonymity has become as meaningless as keeping a brand identity.

However, what can you do? And ultimately, what does it matter? Probably not a lot. And so it is that Our Man may well be featured in an upcoming issue of Metropolis magazine with a picture of himself that he supplied. And he has made some other decisions too. He's got a whole heap of ideas for essays and books that means he can't spend as much time as he'd like on this blog. But he will check back in when he can. We'll see how often that is.

Deadlines, you know?

Thursday, 4 October 2012

DO YOU STILL CARE?




If you gave a shit then, give a shit now. 

Our Woman in Abiko needs you to help with a new way to put a smile on the faces of tsunami orphans. 

Freetohoku rides again.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

POLITICAL PIE CHARTS? LET THEM EAT DOUGHNUTS

 

Before you go read another word on this here blog, know this: Our Man is further left than Gandhi and further south than Ron Paul. Our Man has the numbers to prove it. Just thought you should know. This might cloud Our Man's judgement and yours, but forewarned is better than four-eyed, as they say.

Anyway, if you'd like to compare yourself to Our Man, go right ahead right here, they do ask six pages of questions, and only a few are thinly veiled "So, are you committed to the public ownership of the means of production or what you commie bastard?" but the purpose of the exercise is to make clear the whole left/right thing is sooooo over. Because there's an up/down dynamic too.

Our Man had always thought of politics as more of a doughnut where the extreme left and extreme right are indistinguishable, but maybe that's because the glazing had melted in the microwave. Either way, We the People are definitely the hole in the middle.

You can't have your doughnut and eat it.

Carry on.

Monday, 1 October 2012

TYPHOON MOON



Went outside
into the typhoon
just to see if the 
clothes poles
were secure.
They were. 
And then I saw:
The Moon, 
which, as luck would have it, 
not only reflected light from the invisible sun on to the backs of the clouds,
but also conveniently rhymed with typhoon.