¿Los Ingleses? No los conocen...

Some of you may be old enough to remember Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all of Mexico. And some of you may remember when he was pulled from TV rotation for, uh, well, I'm not entirely clear about that part. I think it was because he was viewed as being a negative stereotype. Possibly it was for speaking in less than perfect English (as compared to... Elmer Fudd? Sylvester? Daffy Duck? Pepe Le Pew?). Or maybe it was for wearing a simplified and stereotypical costume. One argument claims that even though Speedy's raison d'être was to outrun, outwit and outclass the hapless gringos that stood between him and his goals, he was overshadowed by the stereotyped behavior of most of the other mice. Of course, there may have been a whiff of the Frito Bandito controversy hanging around that made Ted Turner's various underlings try to err on the side of safety when they first shelved most of Mr. Gonzales' cartoons.

All of which is to say that in the US, there have been some struggles over what kind of cultural images are acceptable and what aren't. Just in case you hadn't heard, the English-speaking world is not unified enough for these sorts of things to apply everywhere. Example 1: the Asda brand tortilla packaging in the UK. Sorry first about the scan quality, and sorry second about having had wholewheat tortillas in my kitchen. I'm in a foreign land here, and sometimes you just have to make do with what fate throws your way. Now, in case you didn't get a good look at the logo, why don't you check out a close-up.

Seriously. Leaving aside the questionable coloring on the hands (Gloves? Shadows?), what the hell is up with the rest of that? I guess he's supposed to be ecstatic over the quality of the tortillas (which, apart from being wholewheat and too small weren't terrible, or terribly different from those spongy-bleached "wraps" that somehow make people feel better about eating a chicken salad sandwich). But do people here believe Mexicans are that excitable? And bandoliers? Quick check here: who can you think of that wears a bandolier? The list is weirder than I first thought.

Thinking about it, though, maybe there's just too much remove from Mexico for the average British person to get why this might be problematic. I mean, Spain isn't that far away, and the only Spanish character in the British media I can think of is from a show that's 30 years old. There's just no opportunity for most folks here to make any connections between these images and real people. Mexicans? Why not ask about Hui or Sumerians or Yukaghirs, they've got about as much to do with most people's daily experiences here.

Which may be why so few people here seem to find these things odd.


The three images above are from The Dieline, a website about food packaging design and their report on the 2008 Pacakging Design Award winners.

Back to basics: traditional entertainment and bargain hunting

The British Tory party (the rough ideological analog of the US Republican Party) is going to have a conference in the city of Birmingham this month. And as a part of the city's attempts to turn a profit from the visiting Tories, they've distributed a coupon book to the visiting delegates, complete with discounted entry to The Rocket Club, a place people can go to watch ("Sir, do NOT touch the dancers!") nekkid ladies dancing on stage or sometimes on customers' laps.

I don't usually count on the Evening Standard for news, but this time they really came through for me with valuable, timely, hard-hitting journalism.

And just in case you were wondering what else Birmingham has going on, it is the home of the world's first Complaints Choir. Yep, homegrown culture.

Lowering the bar for higher education

It's a dark day for edumacation in Great Britain. In a move to improve the numbers of people holding qualifications, the UK has announced that they'll certify certain McDonald's management courses as being equivalent to A-levels, which will be something roughly equivalent to AP credit towards getting something like diplomas or associates degrees.

And to make things worse, an otherwise unremarkable university that has not yet lost its accredited status has hired a shiftless, foul-mouthed foreigner to teach a study skills and language improvement class to other foreign students who lack the language skills and the motivation to make it at the university level.

Oh, the irony gets thick sometimes!

In the system again...

I think my extended visa application will be approved, which means it looks as though I'm going to be a legit citizen again.

Which means I'll be able to look for full time work. From the point of view of the relative strength of the pound against the dollar, that's probably a good thing. Of course, that also means I'll have to try and be a respectable, employable such-and-such, which may not be so good. The last time I demonstrated any aptitude at work, it was at strangling junior high students and drawing cartoon pictures of monsters and Santa Claus and Kamen Rider and such.

Somehow I don't think that'll do me much good here. Damn stupid non-transferable skills. When is there going to be a job that requires a command of English grammar, Japanese pop-culture trivia, QuarkXPress and a willingness to drink alcohols of many lands?

Condom Machine in a London Men's Room

I really ought to be working, but...

I just had to share this little nugget of trivia with you. Certain businesses can be given what's called a "Royal Warrant" from the British monarchy. This is like becoming the crown's official supplier of whatever. Take, for example, Lea & Perrins, Royal purveyors of Worcheshtershercheeshershire sauce. Or Tanqueray, royal purveyors of gin. Or my personal favorite: CH Haygarth & Sons, Gun & Rifle Makers, Gunmakers to HM Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother.

Okay, so their royal warrant to the Queen Mother expired this year, being five years after her death and all, but still, come on! The Queen Mother had an official supplier of guns and rifles. If, at some point, she wanted to shoot something or someone, she wouldn't have had to rely on a common Baretta or, heaven forfend, a German-made piece or equipment like a Heckler and Koch, oh no. She had access to custom made rifles and guns. Did the Queen Mum want to pick off targets from a distance? Was she interested in range or target shooting? Or did she just want something concealable to keep in her purse with a maximum stopping power to weight ratio for her own sense of security? Either way, CH Haygarth and Sons had her covered, so she could keep you covered.

Man, royalty is a hoot!

Okay. Back to work. Honest. No more procrastination. Gotta get this paper done...

Two thoughts on beverages

In all honesty, I really shouldn't try to talk trash about the way British people drink tea. I don't think there's any way to succinctly explain the precise (and precious) ways in each person here will explain how they "take their tea", while still conveying the fact that they are all (A) somewhere along a wildly varying spectrum of preferred steeping times, brewing methods, additives, and consumption habits, and (B) completely convinced that they are, in fact, drinking the normal, standard cup of tea and while other ways of drinking tea could be conceived of, no one could possibly entertain notions of drinking something else and still think of it as normal.

Actually, I did receive some very good advice in Austin on speeding my acclimatization to UK life:

"You could just drink Boddingtons until you puke on your trousers."

C.F., you are a man of great insight. Thank you.

Not up to speed...

After some four years spent waist-deep in it, I can't say that I had any epiphanies about Japanese culture. It's not possible, in my opinion, to be able to claim any deep understanding of a nation without some greater depth of integration. And most people simply cannot get "inside" in such a short period of time.

Like that crap that John Howard's trying to pull in the Northern Territories with Mal Brough as his mouthpiece is exactly the kind of short-sighted, package-tourism "I understand these people" bullshit I mean. But I didn't set out here to get all pissed off about that. The point is that you can't just drop in somewhere, take a few holiday pics, and think that pronouncing "paella" with a Spanish accent is enough.

Personally, I was disabused of some notions, and ran head-long into a whole bunch of others. In total, though, I can honestly say that I did learn a few things about how (some) people live and think and react to events there.

But I was mistaken in thinking the learning curve would be any less steep for this part of England, commonalities of language be damned. Maybe my biggest obstacle in getting things straight here is my limited contact with the natives. At least when I was working in Japan I was forced to interact with the locals for the majority of each day. You have to make conversation with people for eight (or ten or twelve) hours a day for a couple of months straight, you're bound to pick up something. Besides, y'know, somebody's phone number or the flu or something. But here I just don't have that excuse. And it probably wouldn't work anyway.

"Pardon me, uh, guv-nor, but I was wondering if I could talk to you for, oh, thirty minutes or so about topics generally found of interest to a, uh, toff like yourself."
"[Heavily accented expletive deleted] off, wanker."

Anyway, this discovery is mildly frustrating. At this rate I may never get to understand the esoteric secrets of the "cuppa", much less the mindset of a country that would send colonies and armies halfway around the planet for the stuff before claiming it's "the national drink."

For your edification...

The Management presents a short list of some actual place names in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, chosen for their propensity to sound rude when said with extra emphasis. As in
"I say, Nigel, you wouldn't happen to know where Bertram is, old sport?"
"I expect Bertie's down Wapping Old Stairs, if you catch my meaning, old bean."
"So soon? I'd heard he was on holiday, taking a turn up Ashby De La Zouch."

And so on. Try it at home with the following places:

• Slough
• Looe
• Bude
  
• Foulness Point (on Foulness Island)
• Pontypool
• Rutland
  
• Dorking
• Cockfosters

A few thoughts inspired by Shrove Tuesday

Yesterday was "Shrove Tuesday," which is for some reason referred to as "Pancake day" here.
That reason being that people here celebrate the last day before lent by eating crepes, which are for some reason referred to as "pancakes" here.

I hear that people are supposed to eat crepes as way of celebrating their last day before they give stuff up in honor of that Jesus dude giving stuff up. Now, what makes me wonder is this: supposedly there was a sacrifice made on behalf of all mankind, right? That one was supposed to wipe the slate clean for everybody. So why would people want to voluntarily engage in low-level sacrifice after something like that? It almost seems like someone preparing a huge feast for a wedding reception, but then all the guests bringing a combo meal from McDonalds so they won't be hungry.

Also the idea of being like a lamb really doesn't sit well with me. I mean, apart from wolves, coyotes, raptor-type birds, lynxes, cougars and mountain lions, the biggest threat to most lambs is that guy who shaves them, slaughters them and eats them. What's his name again? Oh yeah, the shepherd.

A message to the citizens of England

We are all well aware that the English feel some sense of ownership towards the language named for your country. No doubt the world would be a poorer place without the works of Jonathan Swift, Geoffrey Chaucer or Iain Hollingshead.

For the record, however, there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 million people living in the UK these days. Not to slight the cultures of Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland or the Isle of Man, but just about everyone in that total is a speaker of English. That still leaves the UK significantly behind the number of English speakers in the US. Assuming, of course, that the 2001 census estimate of 215 million is roughly accurate. And behind the estimated 200 million Chinese people who are aiming for ESL fluency by the year 2020. Depending on who you believe, there are anywhere from 20 million to 100 million to 330 million people in India with ability right ranging from mother tongue fluency down to casual conversational right now. Do the math. If want to find an English speaker on planet Earth, you've only got about one chance in five of getting someone from the UK. And that's assuming the highest number of English literate UK citizens and the lowest numbers of English literate non-UK citizens1.

Whatever people may have said about the modern uses of Latin, there's not much Latin coming out of Rome these days. I don't mean to imply that the Queen's English is a dead language. But there's not much evidence to point to the future of English as strongly resembling anything heard around Eton. Or Oxford. Or anywhere else "public school" is taken to mean "place for upper class boys to engage in sport and light pederasty." All of which is to say the following.

Attention, citizens of England!
Please be aware that:

1. An accent unlike yours is not unusual by any stretch of the imagination
   
2. Pronunciation unlike yours is not unlikely
3. If the best you can manage for humor is observations about points 1 or 2, don't bother. Those jokes have been made countless times before.
   

Thank you.

1. For purposes of the rather rough estimate made here, I used a UK population of 60 million as compared to 215, 20, 20 and 19.5 millions for the US, India, Australia and Canada. I left out the Francophone Canucks along with everyone in New Zealand, Ireland, the Philippines, Africa, Asia and continental Europe.

National appeal. Or Emma Peel. Whatever.

I know I've said it a bunch of times before, but Japan was a crazy-wack-cartoon-opera of a country. It was absurd and dignified and too often surreal to be as bad as it seemed. There were so many things about that place that were just unimaginable in an American context that it was easy to find something fascinating. Sport as art? Check. Writing as spiritual exercise? Got it. Mutant-grasshopper-cyborg as cultural hero? Of course, haven't you been paying attention?

Somehow I expected to stumble into something like that in England. Some sort of British cultural item that would be fascinating and endearing and would give me a entry point from which to start getting into life here. Maybe not anything as immediately satisfying as, say, Sapporo-style ramen, but something, right? I mean, besides cricket. Which seems to be something that England can't really claim as a specialty anymore anyway...

Second Language

British1 English words learned in the last three weeks:

ice lolly - noun, Popsicle
khazi (ka zi) - noun, toilet
Pelican crossing - noun, a crosswalk with pedestrian controlled signals across the street. Not to be confused with a puffin crossing
Puffin crossing - noun, noun, a crosswalk with pedestrian controlled signals on the same side of the street. Not to be confused with a Toucan crossing
rock up - verb, to arrive (note: considered dated by under-25s)
slapper - noun, a promiscuous woman. See also slag.
toad in the hole - noun, sausages cooked in batter, usually served with gravy and vegetables
Toucan crossing - noun, a crosswalk with pedestrian controlled signals, also for cyclist use. Not to be confused with the now obsolete Panda Crossing.

1. I am aware that khazi is a British adoption of a foreign word. I am also aware that your average Brit is more than likely to claim that because it's spoken in the cradle of English language that it's a more valid English word than something like MILF, dingleberry, bling or aluminum.

How far is East?

It's been almost three months since I left Japan. From Tokyo, I went to Los Angeles for a week, and from there I went to Albuquerque. Try to imagine one of those Indiana Jones maps with the red lines on it to make this part a little more interesting. Anyway, after some rest, I continued more or less east on to England. Yeah. I'm living in England now. Pip pip. But being in this bastion of Western culture, I'm finding that there's a wholly different understanding of east and west here. It seems like for most people here, Asia is the part of the world that includes Pakistan, India, China, and uh, is Hong Kong part of...? Er, yeah, and China.

And that isn't to say those aren't Asian countries. But that's pretty much it, at least in terms of what affects most people's thinking here. That stuff about Korea? Primarily troublesome for people's mental rearranging of the "List of Countries That Can Nuke Something Besides TV Dinners." The recent coup in Thailand? Tack that on the "Places folks go on exotic vacations that I've always wanted to know more about someday" list. Laos or Cambodia? Same list. And Japan? That place I devoted the last five years to? "Oh yeah, I've eaten some of their food/seen a movie or dance from there/know a guy who went there and listened to his half-baked observations" list.

Which is to say that there is a whole world of stuff here that is considered "Asian" that I'm going to have to learn about. For instance, it's a little after sunset here and my otherwise quiet neighborhood sounds like an old west gunfight. It's fireworks being set off to mark the Hindu festival of Diwali. But that shouldn't be confused with the celebrations for the end of the fasts for Muslim holiday of Ramadan, which also took place tonight. It's just a coincidence that this year the first day of the tenth month in the Islamic calendar coincides with the end of the seventh month of the National Civil calendar of India.

And the recent Japanese holiday of 体育の日? Or about the upcoming 文化の日? Not even worth mentioning to people here. It's not really a part of what's been included in British international culture exchanges. East, but not Asia? Too-far East? Or is it so far away that I need to say it's Western Pacific?

Sweet?

Apparently, this is a succesful way to sell chocolate in the UK.

It's just chocolate. What's so manly about that? There's no raw meat in it, no cutouts from a Snap-on Tools calendar, it doesn't even burst into flames.

Whatever else in life may be casting doubt on your masculinity, putting this big, long, thick, piece of chocolate in your mouth is the thing to set the record straight.