Author: Justin

Desert Island

A team of sociologists have planned an experiment in isolation. They send an Englishman, a Frenchman and a Japanese man to a deserted island and arrange to come back and pick them up in a year’s time and see how they have adapted.
The sociologists leave, and the three men decide to split up the tasks amongst themselves.
“I’m an engineer” says the Englishman, “So I’ll handle building a shelter”.
He turns to the Frenchman and says: “You French are pretty good cooks so why don’t you handle the cooking?”
The Frenchman agrees, and the Englishman turns to the Japanese and says “That leaves you to organise the supplies”.
The Japanese man agrees and each man sets about his tasks.
A year passes, and the sociologists return to see how the men have coped.
They expect to find three desperate men, unhappy with having to live on the island, but instead find a huge wooden house with verandas and porches and balconies. The Englishman comes to greet them,and when they express their surprise about the house he just shrugs and says “Yeah well I had a Lot of raw materials so I kind of went to town and did the place up”.
The team are amazed and are shown inside to the kitchen where they’re greeted with the most amazing smell of delicious food.
The Frenchman sees their surprise and just shrugs “I had lots to work with” he says,”This island has loads of edible herbs and plants.”
The team sits down to eat and are about to start when one of them inquires about the Japanese man.
“Oh we don’t know what happened to him” explains the Englishman, he ran off into the woods to sort out the supplies and hasn’t been seen since”.
They all agree that they should try to find the man, and a search party is organised. They make it about 100 yards into the woods, when the Japanese man jumps out from behind a tree, stark naked with half a coconut on his head, and peacock feathers sticking out of his backside, and shouts…
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….. “SUPPLIES!!!”
(profound thx to Osaka Bill – I spit ocha all over my laptop screen in front of my manager)

Playing with fire

I just reviewed a technical journal describing recent work-related accidents in our industry (electronics manufacturing) and came across an incident I coincidentally heard about from another source a few weeks ago. Last month, a manager at a (whatever) factory blew his stack at a worker who was welding together a steel support during factory expansion. He tore this guy a new asshole and made some threats, and told the worker to complete the job before he returned. The job wasn’t finished when he came back, so manager dude decides he’s gonna show the worker how to do the job right… Except he had no formal certification for welding (and thus no formal training on record). Perhaps you see where this is going.
His hair caught on fire. He was not, however, seriously injured. He was also not able to cover up the incident (apparently not for lack of trying; I wonder how he explained the wisps of smoke emanating from his head) and I am just guessing that his “overzealous micromanagement” was grounds for dismissal. Considering the materials he was working with, I think this lesson, if indeed learned, came relatively cheaply.
Dumbass.

1185 Letters

The longest word in the English language:
acetylseryltyrosylserylisoleucylthreonylserylprolylserylglutaminyl-
phenylalanylvalylphenylalanylleucylserylserylvalyltryptophylalanyl-
aspartylprolylisoleucylglutamylleucylleucylasparaginylvalylcysteinyl-
threonylserylserylleucylglycylasparaginylglutaminylphenylalanyl-
glutaminylthreonylglutaminylglutaminylalanylarginylthreonylthreonyl-
glutaminylvalylglutaminylglutaminylphenylalanylserylglutaminylvalyl-
tryptophyllysylprolylphenylalanylprolylglutaminylserylthreonylvalyl-
arginylphenylalanylprolylglycylaspartylvalyltyrosyllysylvalyltyrosyl-
arginyltyrosylasparaginylalanylvalylleucylaspartylprolylleucylisoleucyl-
threonylalanylleucylleucylglycylthreonylphenylalanylaspartylthreonyl-
arginylasparaginylarginylisoleucylisoleucylglutamylvalylglutamyl-
asparaginylglutaminylglutaminylserylprolylthreonylthreonylalanylglutamyl-
threonylleucylaspartylalanylthreonylarginylarginylvalylaspartylaspartyl-
alanylthreonylvalylalanylisoleucylarginylserylalanylasparaginylisoleucyl-
asparaginylleucylvalylasparaginylglutamylleucylvalylarginylglycyl-
threonylglycylleucyltyrosylasparaginylglutaminylasparaginylthreonyl-
phenylalanylglutamylserylmethionylserylglycylleucylvalyltryptophyl-
threonylserylalanylprolylalanylserine

Japan doesn’t need Wally World

An interview with Aeon CEO Motoya Okada:
Japan’s Answer to Wal-Mart?
Excerpt:

Q: So what can you do to resolve this?
A: Well, we will continue to enhance our supply chain and reduce costs, [so savings] can be passed back to our customers. We can also enhance our private brand.

Well, they’ve certainly got the corporate rhetoric down…
I personally think that most of the products marketed under Aeon’s TopValu brand is noticeably inferior to competing brands. They can’t even make decent green tea or dishsoap, which, as you might imagine, are fairly important items for the average Japanese consumer.

Memories of Rain

Recently, the combination of late nights and wet roads evokes memories so immersive, I often find myself halfway home before realizing that it’s raining and I really should slow down. (The weather affects me more than I care to admit, I guess.) The memories I speak of all have one thing in common, that is, they are all memories of other late, rainy nights. This is my most recent one:
Around six years ago, I was driving a coworker to her house in Moriguchi (Osaka), after a company drink-up. She had passed out and my boss asked me to take her home.
It was raining pretty hard that night, and the tinted windows on my Citroen made for poor visibility out of the side and rear windows. As it was before strict DUI laws existed in Japan, I was driving kinda sloppy, mostly because the crappy driving conditions were annoying me. In fact, I was pondering so heavily on the fact that “god must hate me because it always rains on the weekend,” I almost failed to stop in time at a train crossing. By almost, I mean, you know the striped fiberglass bar that lowers when the train is coming? When I came to a complete stop, my windshield was bending it forward. The crossing bells were ringing and the train was sounding its horn, and the slow motion adrenalin rush kicked in as I threw the car in reverse and backed away from the tracks – just in time.
I think I just sat there for a while.
All I really remember is thinking, rain be damned, God Must Fucking Love Me.

Vinyl in Japan

A well-written introduction and shop guide pertaining mostly to the Tokyo area:
Record Shopping in Japan
In Osaka, I like browsing the Gorilla Records shop in the basement of the building next to Tower Records Shinsaibashi. The “Real Hip-Hop Americans from Lagos” on the street corners of Amemura, however, are sometimes more than one can bear.
Forever Records, between Namba Parks and DenDen Town (down the street from an improbably-located 7-11), used to have a good selection, but I haven’t been there in eons… Pawning my 1200s when I was a student was a necessary evil, but it still hurts to think about.
By far, the best deals on vinyl I have ever found are in second-hand stores. I once found a rare Beatles pressing worth several hundred dollars in a pile marked on sale for 100 yen.

Iraq Fishing Roundup

Last year I noted a fascinating article about US soldiers in Iraq passing the time by fishing the ponds at Saddam’s palatial estates:
What to do when you’re bored in Iraq
Today, via Instapundit, I was happy to see a related post by Bigwig:
Fishes of Iraq: Aspius Vorax
Wondering if I had missed out on similar content around the net, I did a hasty search and found some other interesting links:
Donated Tackle Helps Troops Fish at Saddam’s Private Lake
Cyprinidae Fishing Techniques
Iraq Fisheries Data
Fishing in the lake behind Saddam’s palace using MREs for bait: PRICELESS!