Welcome to today’s edition of: People I like, People I hate, a fascinating insight into the trends that shape neuroses in this corner of the interweb.
Category: Life of a Starving Genius
Mathematics
Solving math equations might not be the best thing for my manic-depressive tendencies.
Don’t know what’s more pathetic: that I will lose sleep over an unsolved problem, or that, each time I finally solve one, I start jumping around the room like a maniac for the next 20 minutes (Eriko still refuses to let me carve victory marks on the table).
Greedy Japanese Landlords
Everybody has, I’m sure, heard of how painful it is to rent an apartment in Tokyo.
If you or anybody you know has ever looked for a place to live in Tokyo, then you know all about the race prejudice, the vertiginous deposits, ludicrous requirements, real estate agent mandatory commission and above all the two or three months gift money to the landlord, for the privilege of moving into their slum.
If you needed any more proof, here is one:
Dr Gonzo Dies
Hunter S. Thomspon killed himself today.
Damn, it’s like the loss of a spiritual father.
Here is what he had to say about this poor excuse for a President.
New meishis
More than two months ago, I asked Eriko to help me get a new meishi, and she came through with a whole bunch of cool designs. So cool in fact, that I really couldn’t decide on a single one.
So I went with two designs, which I will each use for separate purposes. I might even add a third one, depending on how these two come out.
I had been slacking on getting them printed, but finally figured I really needed to get moving (in Japan, even more so than in other countries, exchanging name cards is a mandatory part of any conversation that doesn’t involve ordering a big mac with fries).
This is the semi-final design (still considering other font options) and I shall be sending it off to the printer tomorrow. Any suggestions?
Will Roppongi Die Already
‘been a very long time since I have posted anything about Tokyo’s most notorious pit hole… Time to fix this oversight!
Legend has it that, back in 1929, one of the few guys to make money off the market crash – Joseph Kennedy Sr., I believe it was, but the name hardly matters since this story is probably made-up anyway – was wise enough to take all his marbles off the playground before it sunk, when he overheard shoeshine boys in the street exchanging stock tips.
If 15-year old shoeshine boys start investing in the stock market, was his thinking, it’s high time to get the hell out and start selling short. He was right, and his clairvoyance pretty much built the Kennedy’s fortune and indirectly resulted in Jackie getting a very heavy dry-cleaning bill, thirty years later in Dallas.
Of course, while Economics 101 textbooks love to give you this fairy tale as an illustration of the danger of uninformed speculation, the truth more plausibly resides somewhere in Joseph Sr.’s arm-length records of insider trading and stock pulling. Hell, he might even have been one of the guys giving that last tip to a stock market teetering on the edge for months.
Then what is the moral of this story, I hear you ask. And more importantly, what the hell does it have to do with Roppongi?
Well, a modern day version could be thus: When you start bumping into pimply junior-high-schoolers while ordering drinks, it’s really time to get the hell out.
Almost Famous
You know, despite my best efforts, I have never managed to reach celebrity status in Japan… and when I see the kind of humiliation my friend the “talento” has to go through, every time he is featured on TV (full story for another day), I am quite happy with that.
However, I can now die a happy man, since a small part of my work has finally been recognized for what it’s worth, and featured in a Fijian Newspaper. Yea, you read correctly: I am a star in Fiji.
Well, kinda.
Recipe Monday: Valentine’s Special
Today: Yellow Coconut Curry!
To my surprise, last week’s first edition of Recipe Mondays was met with unmitigated success among the blogging crowds. And because we thrive to please our public, here at Dr Dave Logs Inc., I shall do my best at keeping up with the now firmly established tradition of Recipe Mondays!
What? It’s not Monday anymore? Well, I’m sure it’s Monday somewhere else in the world right this moment. Internet time, all that…
By the by, talking about Monday…
Part 1: The Rant
I guess saying I despise Valentine’s Day and its commercial faux-fluffiness would make me sound like some kind of bitter dateless hater, or at the very least like an unromantic grinch who can’t enjoy an honest-to-goodness holiday when he’s handed one on a heart-shaped silver platter.
First let me clear that out: if I didn’t thoroughly enjoy being single on Valentine’s Day, then why on Earth would I manage to break up every single year without fail just a few days before it. Surely there must be some sort of subconscious fear that, come that fateful day, any lingering relationship, would require me to attend some kind of official Valentine’s celebration, likely out of common decency and possibly at gunpoint.
In fact, I don’t really hate Valentine’s that much. I am not this person who spend their day hissing at whatever looks like a mating attempt between two humans… It’s just that I don’t get it. I don’t get what’s so “romantic” about buying cheap industrial crap and/or overpriced luxury items as the yearly token of your undying love. If anything, it just goes to show that gender equality hasn’t made much of a significant progress ever since the dark ages, except you no longer pay your bride’s father with a herd of goats, but give the payment to your loved one directly, and preferably in expensive shiny stones.
But truth be told, I don’t really care, one way or the other, about the materialism of it all (hey, after all, ’tis Japan: over here, I am the one who receives chocolates for Valentine’s). I could live with it, if not for that freaking herd mentality.
Hear me now: I haven’t completely lost touch, I am well aware that any celebration is all about herd mentality.
But take, for example, that exercise in futility that is Superbowl Sunday: We all know Superbowl Sunday has little to do with watching the terminally boring encounter of two dozen gorillas on a green field… it’s all a very blatant excuse to get absolutely shitfaced with your friends on a Sunday afternoon and pass out in bed at 7:30pm. For you and me, it might not sound so exciting, especially seeing how that’s what we do every Sunday to begin with (well, I know that’s what I do anyway), but for some married folks, it does make a difference.
Problem is: while it might add to the fun to wedge yourself between 50 of your fellow beer-swilling football fans at your local watering hole, it adds very little to the romantic frame to be competing against every other couple in the city for mediocre seating at some not-so-great restaurant on Valentine’s Day. You might enjoy a communal atmosphere on your intimate dates, I don’t.
What? A recipe? oh yea… the recipe…
Part 2: The Recipe
What better way to celebrate the Day of Love than by cooking a delicious Yellow Coconut Curry to share with your roommate and your very-much-ex special someone (yea, no hard feeling, at least as long as I cook).
Yellow Coconut Curry is so laughably easy to make that even I hesitated to use it for this week’s recipe. But then I remembered that if you are the kind of person who gets his cooking advice from a website that usually draws people searching for “japanese upskirt pictures” (according to Google), you are not looking into becoming the chef at Pierre Gagnaire’s (well, might have to get rid of Mr. Pierre Gagnaire, to begin with). Talk about the paraplegic leading the blinds…
Okay, ready?
A bit shaky, innit…
The good thing about being up and coding at 5 in the morning, is that you don’t have to wake up in sweat to run for the nearest table, when some underground traffic jam comes up.
Brief, but definitely one of the strongest shake I have ever felt in Tokyo.
This kinda makes up for last month’s tectonic joyride where I was passed out in my bed.
Oh, and one small piece of advice: never leave an open box of sugar on the edge of a shelf in a country prone to earthquakes. Actually, cross that, never have any piece of furniture rising over 3 feet.
Update: According to the news report, it went up to a 5 (Japanese scale) in the Ibaraki area. Not quite sure how that measures up in Richter scale, but that’s quite big (level 7 being total annihilation)…
Failed by Technology
Now… Since you are reading this, and probably other blogs too, I think we can safely infer that you belong to that category of people who get their secret kick out of hearing how miserable other people’s lives are.
Don’t pull that innocent face: you know who you are.
And I don’t blame you.
I’m with you on that one: sure, fuzzy pictures of playful kittens might bring some warmth to even the most hardened seaman‘s heart… But only the news that some stranger at the other end of the world is having a really shitty day can bring true, lasting, peace of mind. Why do you think I have my PubSub keyword watchlist set to include “I cut because my life sucks” and “suicidal thoughts”: you never know when somebody’s unhappiness is gonna come handy to reinforce your own precarious sense of happiness…
With that knowledge, allow me to humbly feed your shadenfreude with this little story of tragi-comical woes in the land of technology…
We are talking movie material here.