Do they have milestones in metric system countries?

It's been about 554 years since the death of the last Byzantine emperor in Constantinople.

It's been around 72 years since the Hoover dam was completed.

It's been almost 18 years since the Tienanmen square massacre.

It's been almost one year since I left Japan.

Two steps forward, one step somewhere else.

Second verse, same as the first:

A little bit louder and a little bit worse.

More of the same changes, more of the same results?

It seems like there are elections and resignations and appointments and complaints and protests all over the news these days. Well, the UK/Europe news, anyway. Maybe it's an easy angle to take for a journalist, but a lot of the stories seem to be about how one candidate (or party or whatever) is trying to make a new start and to recreate the promise of their party (or country or whatever).

After the last ten years of American politics, I find it kind of hard to respond optimistically to any of those sorts of stories. It just doesn't seem likely that any sort of organized rule-playing game is going to bring up a winner who's interested in profoundly changing the rules of that same game. I hesitate to look for any examples that seem to be in line with that metaphor, since the only one that seems to offer a halfway positive result involves William Shatner...

On the subject of old acquaintences

Did you know me before? Did you know me from way back when?
Did I know you?

Whoever we all were then, are we the same people now?

Seriously, if any of you have answers, I'd be curious to hear them. Because I really don't know how to sum up how I feel about the people I see on a daily basis, much less the ones who tried to interact with me when I was even more confused than now about how to function like a human. If you can suggest a way to deal with nostalgia and its concurrent sensations of regret, envy, confusion and caustic-hot joy, I'll listen.

Did I know you then? Did I know myself then?

Do I know myself now?

Dreams, huh? Freud would be proud...

I don't know how familiar you are with the US, but because the nation was formally defined by a bunch of merchants, tax-cheats, religious radicals and amateur philosophers, it lacks most of the a priori guarantees of integrity that most other nations take for granted; like some flavor of religious or historical justification, a tradition of familial rule, or even the actions of a "great leader". As a consequence, the definitions of the nation have allowed some flexibility of interpretation.

Which is why, every so often, questions like "what does the flag mean?" or "what does the statue of liberty mean?" or in this case "what is the American dream?" get tossed around. And like most questions, the answers wind up telling you more about the person speaking than the topic of the question.

So after reading the answers to the last question as posed by Forbes magazine to a bunch of celebrities and such, I found myself in the unusual position of wanting to side with a bunch of the old white capitalist guys and against the hardworking son of immigrants and the swimsuit/lingerie model.

Now, I can admit that I didn't care much for Ms. Banks' choice of words. I suppose saying "to the max" in any context isn't really that bad. But Gonzales' answer makes me taste blood. The arrogance of that man to frame an ideal for an entire nation in terms of his own personal experiences is appalling, but completely indicative of his inability to consider anything beyond his own interests. That a smug, pandering son of a bitch like him is allowed to interpret the laws of any nation is an insult. But the fact that he's allowed to act while under the auspices of protecting freedom and justice should make any conscious American sick and ashamed.

My American dream is that someday the American people will get their shit together so that duplicitous, disingenuous, amoral sons of bitches like the attorney general will be driven out like vermin they are.

Again with the maps...

Because it was easier than getting to work, I spent a few minutes trying to come up with possible aliases using my Michelin map of Great Britain and Ireland, with the provision that the names of places be more or less proximate to each other, and that they appeared in given-name-then-surname order. So if you need to fill in an online form or to make up a porn star name or something, free to try one of these:

Matlock Derby
Sandy Potton
Clare Sudbury
Brandon Thetford
Corby Weldon
Ramsey Huntingdon
Nelson Burnley

Ah, Japan. Technological Powerhouse, Heir to the Discipline of the Samurai...

TOKYO (Reuters) - Three Japanese naval officers who swapped pornography on their computers triggered a scandal over a possible leak of sensitive data linked to Japan's missile defence system, a newspaper said on Thursday...

The officer told police he accidentally copied the confidential data onto his computer's hard disk when copying porn from a computer belonging to a crew member from another destroyer, the Yomiuri newspaper reported.

I know it's a easy laugh, but the fact that the software for the state of art Aegis missile detection system was found to have been copied by guys who were trying to trade pornography really deserves serious mockery. The fact that there seems to be an porn-swapping ring that operates between boats should have been enough. But nooooooo, top that off with the fact that they were saving their porn on the same computers that control their anti-missile systems.

C'mon, Japan. All your cartoons and movies and comics about robots and ninjas and psychic android police men have got the whole primed to accept you as a serious peace keeper, then you pull something like this. I'm laughing, but I'm disappointed with you, Japan. You can do better.

Hat in hand, bile in throat

I'm having to devote more time to job hunting now. Not to say that a wolf is at my door, but if I act now, I can avoid dealing with that whole "huff and puff" thing come June. Not such a big deal except I'm finding myself reminded of why I left the US in the first place: having to pretend that taking orders from someone else is totally acceptable makes my marrow hurt. And having to go to one of those people and say "gee, I sure hope you'll find it in your heart to take a chance on a fella like me" is even worse.

I doubt there's much dignity in penury, but I know there's damned little to be had in asking for employment.

At this moment...

I'm supposed to be writing an essay that counts for something like 30% of my degree. The subject on which I'm supposed to elaborate are the techniques by which autobiographical events and information are transformed into fiction.

Given that a majority of my childhood and young adult memories are to do with fictional people, imaginary events, and highly implausible premises, I imagined this would've been easier. Turns out it doesn't exactly work both ways.

Anon and on and on?

Recently I have been forced to acknowledge another of the realities of modern life. This one being the need to market oneself, particularly to try and succeed in the art. If writing can be called an art, that is. Anyway, a great deal of emphasis has been put on the value of maintaining a presence on the interwebs, with some professionals telling me that I simply must get and maintain a "blogging on a myspace-dot-page."

Leaving aside the sniggering of those of us who claim to have some level of esoteric knowledge that others lack, the issue of exposure is a troublesome one. If I am going to use this space to promote myself, I'd have to be more open about it, wouldn't I? And it would probably be a good idea to downplay the laughing about children being systematically mistreated, the fascination with meat-eating robots, and the willingness to admit liking comic books and cartoons. So this particular mask probably ought to stay on as long as I'm writing here.

Which is to say that I'm probably going to have to start another one of these things, but with a goal of establishing a professional profile. Damn it, that's going to be more work. Which will mean less time for binge drinking, bitching about news and laughing at comics with monkeys in them.

This is someone's sales pitch. Seriously.

Apparently banana-mashing and plantain-loss are serious enough to necessitate a rather specific product. The "'Safe Banana' Banana Guard."

How many times have you took a banana to work, peeled it but found it was so bruised it had to be thrown away? Well, thanks to this great product, available from SafeBanana you can transport your banana fully protected during any journey.

There are nine great, funky colours to choose from and all are extremely popular. A tough banana shaped box that protects the banana and slows ripening thanks to small holes that run along the side, allowing air to circulate. A secure lock ensures you do not lose your banana. It is easy to clean and dishwasher safe.

The mind reels. There have been many times that I have "took a banana to work, peeled it but found it was so..." Wait, no. I don't know anyone who is such a colossal weenie that they would throw away a purpose-packed lunch banana because of bruising. And now that I think of it, what the hell are these people doing with their lunches anyway, kicking them down the streets?