And you and I

...until Hurricane Katarina hits the Big Easy. Will it be the doomsday senario everyone's predicting? An entire metropolis obliterated in a matter of hours? Will future generations view New Orleans as another subaqueous myth like Atlantis?

That's what I wrote last night before the landfall, but then I couldn't think of anything else to write, so I decided to put the post on hold. It was truly quite frightening, reading the reports and predictions. It wasn't fear for my own life, obviously, but the kind of removed fear one feels when watching catastrophic events unfold, the feeling I'm sure most felt that September morning watching the collapse of the twin towers, monuments to the triumphs of American capitalism, or hearing the mounting deathtoll from South Eastern Asia after last year's tsunamis. I was prepared for another mind-numbingly cataclysmic event.

But it seems that New Orleans missed the worst of it and billions in damage and thousands of lives were perhaps spared.

I had actually written quite a bit more, making light of a tragic situation, but I decided it was a bit callous and accordingly deleted it. It was funny, true enough, but then I saw the headlines that Katarina is responsible for 50+ deaths in Mississippi. I wasn't sure if any of my 7 or 8 readers had family or friends in the area, so I decided to play it safe. And now you're left with a less-than exciting post of a solemn nature. Sorry.

Perhaps a retraction is in order. I wrote this before the levees broke, flooding the city. It appears it was every bit as bad as was predicted (or nearly so). God give peace to those afflicted by these terrible waters, and give rest to those who now lie at their bottom.

Our junior high soccer team won the national championship.

Our baseball team just won a Kyushu-wide tournament.

I don't really care that much, so I don't expect you to either, just thought I should write something not overly bitter about my job and school.

I've been in a remarkably good mood recently. I'm not entirely sure why, but I imagine it has something to do with the weather, no longer unbearably hot and sudorific, the result of our recent downpours. This cooler weather has brought with it the wonderfully piquant aroma of burning wood and alpine timber.

It smells like fall.

I have taken to running quite avidly lately, what with the high costs of gym membership making swimming no longer a viable option. It's amazing what new avenues of pleasure will open for you when you're on a tight budget.

And it turns out I'm quite good at it. Not Kenyan good at it, but still probably better than you. It occured to me: now with 2 of the 3 components of the triathalon covered, why not begin training? I mean, how hard could biking be? I already mountain bike (I forgot to mention, that's something else I do), so how much worse could road biking be? I decided to go ahead with the plans and had myself a great triathalon all picked out before I looked at the prices of decent road bikes.

And now I've begun training for a marathon that's to take place this next Janauary. I'll admit that I wasn't so kean on it to begin with--I have this morbid fear that I'll come out looking like some emaciated African--but after discovering the affordable prices of bleaching cream and becoming hoplessly lost the other night and accidentally tackling a 17 mile run, a marathon is looking very doable and quite attractive. And so am I, on both counts.

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I just now discoved the "next blog" feature at the top of the page. I have absolutely no idea what function such a feature has, except to make for new post fodder. Here's a few of the more interesting ones I've found:

prullenbak: A Belgian artist goes buck wild with various Matel figurines and poses in some suspect shots with other men.

quoileternite: The best damned Croatian poet in the bloggersphere, not to mention quite the looker.

punography: A blog dedicated to all things pun.

bringouttroopsback: I think our author got discouraged after President Bush never responded.

Reza's Blog: Reza tells the best one-liners this side of the Euphrates.

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And finally, I'm heading to the beach tomorrow for a 10k run followed by a party with with many of the JETS from the surrounding area, so if you need to reach me, you can't. Sorry.

This may be the single greatest picture I've ever taken. 

Being off work certainly has it drawbacks, and one of them is boredom. Another is increased electricity bills, and yet another is the spending habits that arise from boredom. All of course leading to one inextricable end: less money for whorring. I've had to stop paying entirely for it, and let me tell you something, the old addage is true: you get what you pay for. One can only imagine how poor the sex is when you're getting it for free, like living off the ketchup packets at McDonald's. I now fit in quite well with the filthy homeless guys who beg for it behind my apartment building. It's like my old gradpappy used to tell me, "Take off that damned feather boa and put your fatigues back on, soldier!"

But before the dementia, he would say, "when you ain't paying much for it, you ain't gettin' much for it."

He was a wise old man, if only slightly without the boudaries of acceptible social conduct.

The upshot of it all is that not a-one of them is the kind of girl you could take home to Mom, the kind of girl I could brag about "making $200 a lay."

"Wow, that's more than I charge!" she'd say. "I think you've found yourself a real keeper."

"Only until 8 o'clock tonight," I'd remind her with a grin, and we'd both have a quiet chuckle and turn back to our Rockford Files reruns.

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As you can see, it's kind of a sore subject with me, and one which I don't feel terribly comfortable discussing; as such, we'll look at some newly purchased CD's.

1) Ravel's complete orchestral works, and it's about time too: he has long been my favorite composer, but I'd untill now had little in my catalogue to suggest as much. From the period beginning with my introduction to his Five Greek Songs and continuing to my first listening to his Daphne and Chloe suite, he has firmly established himself as one of my great five pillars of classical music, along side Benjamin Britten, Heinrich Schutz, Arvo Part, and Guillame de Machaut. Honarble mentions: Ralph Vaughn Williams, Debussy, Bach.

2) Philip Glass's Glassworks, the perfect alpha to any burgeoning fan of minimalism. I like minimalism because it provides a simplistic and accesible option for anyone feigning knowledge and passion for classical music such as myself.

3) transjoik's acclaimed epic mahkalahke. It's 3 parts fringe world music, 2 parts cutting edge contemporary classical, and a dash of hippy new agey stuff, making the perfect recipe for a rockin', Sami indigenous people's good time (or "Güten tÿmn den Søren pïplës søðen Rûkstär," as they say in Swedish). And for all you joiker fans (I know you're out there), you're in for a real treat here because they have 8 of them.

Sex.

Trying to up my viewership.

Just to up my average. Sorry I've updated so little (and so superficially) lately, I've just been floundering of late with so little to do. I've got that creative spark, just no tinder. So, I've gone out to find some.

...just bored out of my mind. Kumamoto is decidedly the most boring place this side of the Pacific. I'm heading downtown now, and hopefully something interesting will happen. If it does, you know where to find a detailed and accurate account. Cheers.

And during summer vacation too.

Doesn't that just bite it?

The medicine has made me loopy.

You will never know heat until you've experienced Kumamoto in August.

I think that's what's making me sick.

And making me lose my sense of humor.

And sense of creativity.

And, I'm really enjoying Nicholas Sparks.

I've cried on more than one occasion reading his books.

This post may not exist tomorrow morning when I wake up and see what I've done.

So, enjoy it while you can.

I nearly cried when I saw this picture because I remembered that I have to teach them. 

Very little to talk about. I recently returned from co-directing an English camp with about 30 fit and shaply 16-18 year old giggly Japanese school girls.....You disgust me, I never said I acted on it.

I did receive several marriage proposals during the course of the week, though, and even had one try the stealth approach, camping out on an overhanging tree branch and sucker-punching me (metaphorically) with a single piece of string which she skillfully and surreptitiously tied around my wrist. Apparently this is some sort of ancient Japanese mating ritual or something. I'll have to check the books--I don't know how legally binding such an act is--but according to my assailient, this means we're married.

Such an act may sound boorish and its legal ramifications draconian, but one must keep in mind his own cultural paradigm when examining the situation; the ancient art of ninjitsu is a timeless and beautiful practice worthy of respect and understanding, not derision.

The original meaning of ninja was, in fact "Gold-digger". Before ninjas were what we know them as today, they were simply teenage girls trying to escape the oppressive life of serfdom. Those bound to the lesser castes would devote their lives to this clandestine art, learning furtive means of circumventing the system and cozening rich, older men into marriage.

Incidentally, in case you were wondering, Abe Vigoda is still alive!!!! He has not yet, in fact, died of incalculably old age, and this site proves it, using as evidence photos and various eye witness accounts. This comes as a great relief to those of us who enjoyed his charming, septuagenarian character "Fish" on the hit 1970's cop drama Barney Miller, and the comedic grandfather in Look Who's Talking. And it comes possibly as a great shock to those who read 1982 People Magazine's mistaken report of Vigoda's passing. Either way, I think we can all whisper a collective prayer of thanks at this most welcome news.

The site also comes complete with an Abe Vigoda staring contest. Enjoy.