Sweary. Bewarey.
I was about to start lunch when I saw this article on the BBC. 'Oh,' I thought, 'this'll be good for a laugh.'
I still haven't eaten my lunch.
The problem isn't that people don't understand. There's not a human alive in England who would be surprised to find out they're fat because they eat shit all day, and don't exercise. Just because the BBC trot out the occasional obese moron to comment on how everything in life is just too difficult to understand, how life is too hard, how everything is just impossible. Oh, life, woe is you.
No one really thinks it's too difficult to understand. No one really thinks that they have metabolic syndrome, or their genes are at fault, or their hair colour is wrong for dieting. Deep down no one believes any of that tripe.
They just don't care. Fine, I say. It is an absolutely legitimate response for you to not care. I don't care about carrots. Some people are mad about carrots. I was told every single day during my formative years that carrots were the answer to every problem in life. I didn't care then, I don't care now. Fine. That is an okay response. Everyone knows the risks of smoking, yet they do it anyway. Everyone knows the risks of eating your own body weight in fried chicken every day, but they do that too. Let them do it. If it gives them momentary happiness, fine.
The problem comes with things like medical expenses. In certain regards, the tax people pay on cigarettes off-sets the expense of caring for their medical needs. Lung cancer is expensive, but so are cigarettes. Theoretically speaking, that extra expense would go towards their care (of course, in reality it just goes towards buying a dozen houses for MP's, and moats to put around them). Fat people don't pay a tax on their weight, which means they take from the system without giving anything based on their usage. Health insurance would be a good way of mitigating this; overweight people would pay higher premiums and things would balance out. This, of course, is too obvious, too easy in fact, to implement, so it will never be done. (Good luck reading that sentence).
What about class. As indeterminate as class is these days, the northerners are definitely fatter than the southerners. This is obvious to all those who go to somewhere like Hull. It's a mighty fine place, in fact I have a near-infinite amount of time for the place - but it's still mired in poverty. Fatties abound, I'm afraid.
Now, this raises the possibility of a two tier nation - one based on health rather than income. It is perfectly possible for those on lower incomes to be healthy, in which case they will have every advantage in life (studies consistently show that healthier people are more likely to be offered jobs, versus equivalent fatties). Now, this means the naturally sedentary middle class of today will fall by the wayside, and the healthier individuals, the 'go-getters,' as it were, will carry the torch of tomorrow. So I absolutely advocate the continuing trend of obesity increase. If you can't be bothered to keep healthy then it's a choice you made, just don't complain when you're judged by the actions you have chosen to take.
Alas, a trick is being missed. While education is seen as the defacto exit strategy for the poverty stricken, increasingly health should be too. This is a missed opportunity.
When you involve kids, people seem to think the equation changes. It really doesn't. A child depends on its parents for learning, behaviour, interests, values and the like. If a child is born in Somalia, he/she/it will not have the same values/advantages as one born in Brazil. If a child is born to a healthy family, it will have an advantage over a child born to a fat family. If you are going to have a child, give it every advantage you can. Do not feed it family chicken every day. Do not bemoan the lack of vegetables in a school dinner, when it goes home and eats chips every day. It relies on you to raise it; there is no one else. It is not the governments job, nor a schools, nor a teachers. It is your responsibility. If it is fat, it is your fault, parent. Do something about it.
I guess to summarise I would say this. I don't care if you're fat. I don't really care if your children are fat. I do care if you blame someone other than yourself. The fact that there are some extremely fit and healthy people around, shows that it's entirely possible to be such, if you just have an iota of self-control.
I do care if you're fat, if I have to harness you up to go climbing though. That shit is just not on.
#EDIT# I was just trawling through the fatties on the BBC website making excuses for their obesity (of course no one is blaming someone with physiological conditions, just like no one blames bulimics or anorexics - but that accounts for what, 1% of fatties?) when I found this
quote:
'The fattest people in my town are the Doctors and Nurses in my local Hospital (sic). Hippocrasy?'
Best. Line. Ever.
Tuesday 26 June 2012
Sunday 24 June 2012
Are You Kidding Me?
'We don't need you now, but we really need you in July. We have speaking tests in July.' Somewhat paraphrased, but continue anyway. 'But you have an operation...'
'Well I'm not going to stop the operation.'
'Oh really, that's good!'
'No wait, I'm not going to stop an operation just so you can make me do speaking tests for a few days.'
'Oh... That's a shame.'
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate my boss. The person who has appraised my value, and found it (conservatively estimated) worth less than mouldy cabbage. The person who isn't actually my boss, but who has taken it upon herself to fuss over me, to ensure I loathe her existence.
On the plus side, there are a million things about her that suggest this behaviour is not voluntary - that she is merely reacting to myriad external stimuli. I can't obfuscate the obvious more than that, but I do so for good reason. (I don't want to lose my job).
Without a doubt, terrible human beings exist within this universe.
Anyway.
I took a few pictures of a violinist at the weekend (#aside# a fat old man just walked past sucking his teeth to get some lodged food out of there, jesus that's disgusting). Some of them are exceptional if I do say so myself. I showed my friends and they were, at best, nonplussed. I'm therefore keen to re-evaluate my previous statement and qualify it by saying I think they're awesome.
There's a question I've always wanted to know the answer to. I want to give out pictures as presents. A big print is always a magnificent thing to behold, but I particularly enjoy shooting people (hehehe) which produces prints that don't really lend themselves to presents. People don't want pictures of people they don't know in their homes. Is there a point at which you just say, screw it, and send them off anyway? Or do you try to take some pictures of landscapes? I don't really know the answer. I'm not particularly afraid of one of my pictures ending up in the attic; never to see daylight again - therefore I might send the people pics and cross my fingers.
Without further bluster, here they are. Bear in mind (okay, a little more bluster) that I really love a couple of these. You can try to guess which ones, but I've already been told that my favourite is actually the wrong choice, so you may feel differently; a legitimate response to photography.
They're in no particular order. If I may take a moment of your time, I want to talk about noise. The higher the sensitivity you select, the more noise you get. Now, shooting at night usually requires a flash (the pictures are quite bright, but it was deceptively dark) especially when it was as dark as it was. Now, noise is generally considered bad, so you want to select as low an ISO as possible to eliminate it. To do that, you use a tripod or a flash. These are two surefire ways of minimising noise and getting sharp images. Another is to use a big wide, fast lens. A 50mm lens is good for street photography because it mimics the equivalent focal length of the eye (is it the focal length? I can't remember) so you get 'nice,' looking images. They also go to f 1.4, or sometimes lower. My current lens is f 4, which means it lets in many times less light that the f 1.4 (it should be noted that a lot of prime lenses go to 1.4, not just the 50mm, I just mention that one because it's the kind of lens I want). Less light requires a higher ISO which means more noise. These pictures would have been far better quality if I'd had an f 1.4 of some kind.
Having just said all that, one of the key reasons why I love these pictures is because they're raw (he he he, camera pun). I set the camera to do no noise reduction, instead opting to do it on the computer should I choose. I ended up not doing that because it doesn't feel quite the same. The image quality is undoubtedly improved, but you lose the feeling of it being at night, a spontaneous shoot that just kind of happened.
This guy actually stood still long enough to get a (relatively) good image. I tried to get him to do one of those 'cool,' poses the musicians in Japan like, but he was embarrassed. I say cool advisedly, because they actually look like massive cocks. He probably made the right decision.
Interestingly, this is the favourite of one of my friends. Rules are meant to be broken, thirds be damned. I don't know why she looks so intense in this picture, because she was smiling pretty much the whole time.
I took about a hundred pictures of the pair because I was terrified of how high the ISO was (6400!!) setting itself, and how fast she was moving. The camera refused to go above 1/60 of a second (not fast enough), which meant that I was certain they'd be a completely blurred mess. It turned out they were all completely blurred messes, but there are a few that turned out to be nicely blurred messes. I think at least. I had a quick check of the first few, found that they were images of ghosts, not people - then proceeded to max everything in the hope that it would work out. Once you've got the settings as good as possible, just roll with it.
The pair posed afterwards. Like I said, I tried to get them to act cool, but they were too embarrassed.
This one would have been my favourite if it were a fraction sharper. This is a classic example of an almost picture. One that is nearly what you want it to be. Needless to say, I've thousands of these.
I just liked the trails of white in this one. It looks like hair blowing in the wind, or something. I don't know.
So those are my pictures. It was a lot of fun, and she was a great performer. The music was superb, and she kept looking into the camera (a lot of people don't like that, but I really enjoy the draw of having the subject looking directly at you, the viewer).
Of course it helps that she was a beauty, but great talent often transcends such factors. At least that's what I'm told.
I need to do some colour correction to get them right, but as they stand, I'm extremely pleased.
Shoot me down, internet!
P.S. Over 20,000 views. Woop! (Ten thousand are my refreshing the page, but hey, who cares).
'Well I'm not going to stop the operation.'
'Oh really, that's good!'
'No wait, I'm not going to stop an operation just so you can make me do speaking tests for a few days.'
'Oh... That's a shame.'
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate my boss. The person who has appraised my value, and found it (conservatively estimated) worth less than mouldy cabbage. The person who isn't actually my boss, but who has taken it upon herself to fuss over me, to ensure I loathe her existence.
On the plus side, there are a million things about her that suggest this behaviour is not voluntary - that she is merely reacting to myriad external stimuli. I can't obfuscate the obvious more than that, but I do so for good reason. (I don't want to lose my job).
Without a doubt, terrible human beings exist within this universe.
Anyway.
I took a few pictures of a violinist at the weekend (#aside# a fat old man just walked past sucking his teeth to get some lodged food out of there, jesus that's disgusting). Some of them are exceptional if I do say so myself. I showed my friends and they were, at best, nonplussed. I'm therefore keen to re-evaluate my previous statement and qualify it by saying I think they're awesome.
There's a question I've always wanted to know the answer to. I want to give out pictures as presents. A big print is always a magnificent thing to behold, but I particularly enjoy shooting people (hehehe) which produces prints that don't really lend themselves to presents. People don't want pictures of people they don't know in their homes. Is there a point at which you just say, screw it, and send them off anyway? Or do you try to take some pictures of landscapes? I don't really know the answer. I'm not particularly afraid of one of my pictures ending up in the attic; never to see daylight again - therefore I might send the people pics and cross my fingers.
Without further bluster, here they are. Bear in mind (okay, a little more bluster) that I really love a couple of these. You can try to guess which ones, but I've already been told that my favourite is actually the wrong choice, so you may feel differently; a legitimate response to photography.
They're in no particular order. If I may take a moment of your time, I want to talk about noise. The higher the sensitivity you select, the more noise you get. Now, shooting at night usually requires a flash (the pictures are quite bright, but it was deceptively dark) especially when it was as dark as it was. Now, noise is generally considered bad, so you want to select as low an ISO as possible to eliminate it. To do that, you use a tripod or a flash. These are two surefire ways of minimising noise and getting sharp images. Another is to use a big wide, fast lens. A 50mm lens is good for street photography because it mimics the equivalent focal length of the eye (is it the focal length? I can't remember) so you get 'nice,' looking images. They also go to f 1.4, or sometimes lower. My current lens is f 4, which means it lets in many times less light that the f 1.4 (it should be noted that a lot of prime lenses go to 1.4, not just the 50mm, I just mention that one because it's the kind of lens I want). Less light requires a higher ISO which means more noise. These pictures would have been far better quality if I'd had an f 1.4 of some kind.
Having just said all that, one of the key reasons why I love these pictures is because they're raw (he he he, camera pun). I set the camera to do no noise reduction, instead opting to do it on the computer should I choose. I ended up not doing that because it doesn't feel quite the same. The image quality is undoubtedly improved, but you lose the feeling of it being at night, a spontaneous shoot that just kind of happened.
This guy actually stood still long enough to get a (relatively) good image. I tried to get him to do one of those 'cool,' poses the musicians in Japan like, but he was embarrassed. I say cool advisedly, because they actually look like massive cocks. He probably made the right decision.
Interestingly, this is the favourite of one of my friends. Rules are meant to be broken, thirds be damned. I don't know why she looks so intense in this picture, because she was smiling pretty much the whole time.
 |
| Spoiler alert, this is my favourite one. |
The pair posed afterwards. Like I said, I tried to get them to act cool, but they were too embarrassed.
This one would have been my favourite if it were a fraction sharper. This is a classic example of an almost picture. One that is nearly what you want it to be. Needless to say, I've thousands of these.
I just liked the trails of white in this one. It looks like hair blowing in the wind, or something. I don't know.
So those are my pictures. It was a lot of fun, and she was a great performer. The music was superb, and she kept looking into the camera (a lot of people don't like that, but I really enjoy the draw of having the subject looking directly at you, the viewer).
Of course it helps that she was a beauty, but great talent often transcends such factors. At least that's what I'm told.
I need to do some colour correction to get them right, but as they stand, I'm extremely pleased.
Shoot me down, internet!
P.S. Over 20,000 views. Woop! (Ten thousand are my refreshing the page, but hey, who cares).
Wednesday 20 June 2012
So Very Tired
So I took a day off on Monday, after the game at the weekend. I thought I'd get back into training on Tuesday and Wednesday, but I had a couple of days holiday, so I decided I'd train Thursday Friday Saturday, with a possible game on Sunday.
That was, until I couldn't sleep last night. I have no idea what happened. How many times have I written those words on this blog? Hundreds, I'd wager. The point being that there's no way in hell I'm going to the gym now, so it's going to have to be Friday and Saturday. Not ideal, two or three days a week isn't enough to get my fitness up (I'm fine on strength and weight now). The matches they play here are fast and loose, so fitness is going to be more important than ever.
It's frustrating, but there's a lesson here. Never put off work, do it up front and enjoy the time after.
Anyway, in news news, there is very little. Someone was over emphasising the chances of our sprinters in a few years time, saying that there's no reason they shouldn't compete with Usain Bolt in four or five years. Even when Usain Bolt is using a zimmerframe he's going to be faster than any of our guys. We're stuck in this mindset that sub 10 seconds is acceptable. It's not good enough any more. The finals at the olympics will have eight sprinters who are all under ten seconds, none of whom will be British. Only one of whom will be European.
Our sprinters might not even make it to the semi-finals.
Apparently the England football team lost in the quarter finals to whoever. That match hasn't happened yet, but you don't need to be Uri Geller to figure out England won't win. Of course, this could all be reverse psychology, and I'm lowering the worlds expectations, one sentence at a time. Either way, I win.
Onto some pictures.
There was a concert (of sorts) in aid of candles? I don't know either, but it was fun, and whereas I'm normally afraid of approaching random strangers for photographs, this event seemed like a perfect opportunity to act all paparazzo.
This girl was supporting a poster, in turn supporting something else. I have literally no idea what, but she was working there and thereby became fair-game for a photo or ten.
I was trying to get the thing on her back and her face in the same picture, but it was impossible (no one is that flexible, it turns out).
I think this pair were american? Or Japanese/American. I don't know. At least one of them spoke native English though.
There were lots of decorated cups with candles in them. Again, I don't know why.
This is so Japanese.
I arrived quite early, so I'd already taken this shot before most people arrived. I wasn't quite as dedicated as this person though. I'd be interested to see the photo she got out of it.
I got told off for taking pictures. He must have had a press badge.
A bit earlier in the day, this guy had the most amazing hair ever.
The guy on the right owns the company that organised the whole event. The girl on the left is the wife of one of the Gaijin rugby players, but I can't be too nice about them because they're Welsh.
A random picture. Again, I'm not too worried about being arrested because it was a public place with tons of people taking pictures. Then again I don't know who these people are. Shhh, don't tell anyone. (I like the picture though).
One of my favourites from the day (night) because. Just because.
Anyone wearing an orange apron worked at the place, so I ended up taking a few different pictures that they might end up on their website. Alas, I've not heard back from anyone, so I assume none of them are good enough. Sad face.
More cameras than hands to hold them, that's dedication.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that it was raining pretty much the whole time.
That was, until I couldn't sleep last night. I have no idea what happened. How many times have I written those words on this blog? Hundreds, I'd wager. The point being that there's no way in hell I'm going to the gym now, so it's going to have to be Friday and Saturday. Not ideal, two or three days a week isn't enough to get my fitness up (I'm fine on strength and weight now). The matches they play here are fast and loose, so fitness is going to be more important than ever.
It's frustrating, but there's a lesson here. Never put off work, do it up front and enjoy the time after.
Anyway, in news news, there is very little. Someone was over emphasising the chances of our sprinters in a few years time, saying that there's no reason they shouldn't compete with Usain Bolt in four or five years. Even when Usain Bolt is using a zimmerframe he's going to be faster than any of our guys. We're stuck in this mindset that sub 10 seconds is acceptable. It's not good enough any more. The finals at the olympics will have eight sprinters who are all under ten seconds, none of whom will be British. Only one of whom will be European.
Our sprinters might not even make it to the semi-finals.
Apparently the England football team lost in the quarter finals to whoever. That match hasn't happened yet, but you don't need to be Uri Geller to figure out England won't win. Of course, this could all be reverse psychology, and I'm lowering the worlds expectations, one sentence at a time. Either way, I win.
Onto some pictures.
There was a concert (of sorts) in aid of candles? I don't know either, but it was fun, and whereas I'm normally afraid of approaching random strangers for photographs, this event seemed like a perfect opportunity to act all paparazzo.
This girl was supporting a poster, in turn supporting something else. I have literally no idea what, but she was working there and thereby became fair-game for a photo or ten.
I was trying to get the thing on her back and her face in the same picture, but it was impossible (no one is that flexible, it turns out).
I think this pair were american? Or Japanese/American. I don't know. At least one of them spoke native English though.
There were lots of decorated cups with candles in them. Again, I don't know why.
This is so Japanese.
I arrived quite early, so I'd already taken this shot before most people arrived. I wasn't quite as dedicated as this person though. I'd be interested to see the photo she got out of it.
I got told off for taking pictures. He must have had a press badge.
A bit earlier in the day, this guy had the most amazing hair ever.
The guy on the right owns the company that organised the whole event. The girl on the left is the wife of one of the Gaijin rugby players, but I can't be too nice about them because they're Welsh.
A random picture. Again, I'm not too worried about being arrested because it was a public place with tons of people taking pictures. Then again I don't know who these people are. Shhh, don't tell anyone. (I like the picture though).
One of my favourites from the day (night) because. Just because.
Anyone wearing an orange apron worked at the place, so I ended up taking a few different pictures that they might end up on their website. Alas, I've not heard back from anyone, so I assume none of them are good enough. Sad face.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that it was raining pretty much the whole time.
Sunday 17 June 2012
Not What I Promised
These two photo's aren't the ones I promised, but tough cookies, because they're the ones you're getting (at least for now).
I played my first game for a new rugby team. They pay for my travel and give me free bananas, so it's a good deal for all involved. (I don't like bananas, but don't tell them that.)
There are two incredibly frustrating things about this team though. Firstly, they like to kick. They like to kick a lot. I was told beforehand that their kickers would regularly gain sixty metres, that the standard of kicking was superb. The standard of place-kicking is sublime, there's no doubting that. This is one of the few teams I've played in where scoring on the wing doesn't preclude the extra points.
Kicking from hand however; that's a different matter. It's okay. It's not spectacular. In fact, of the four tries scored against us, two came from poor kicks gifting the opposition lots of space. Space they decided to use by running the ball. They scored because they didn't kick. There is a lesson here somewhere.
I am not a great kicker - certainly not the 60m kind. However none of these players are the 60m kind either (certainly not from what I saw yesterday) so I am equal to the back three in that regard (at least in my humble). They've pigeon-holed me as some kind of ape who can only run. The truth is, I'm an ape who realises that kicking gains you thirty metres, loses you the ball and subsequently puts your team under pressure. A truly exceptional kick will alleviate pressure, but the word 'exceptional,' is indicative of how often those kicks happen.
The second frustrating point is that the team is already set. I'm the fourth player in a backline of three, one of whom is the captain. The odds of me breaking into this team seem slim. Combine the inherent cronyism evident in any established team with my lack of Japanese rugby culture (kicking = good, running+tackling = bad) means it's going to be bloody hard to get a first team position.
This, however, won't stop me from trying. Even if I only get twenty-five minutes in this team (like at the weekend) it might be in front of someone important in another team, who just happen to lack a winger or full-back.
Just to make my point, if J.P. Pieterson were Japanese, he would have kicked it and this try wouldn't have happened:
Obviously J.P. Pieterson is a massive dickhead, who was hitting players and giving crap all game (sledging goes so far, this cock takes into criminal territory, I'm surprised he wasn't arrested after the match) but his running gained at least 150m in this game, and those are metres with possession. They're invaluable.
The third thing, now that I think about it, is defence. Pieterson smashed a couple of England players, Ashton did the same for us. The score in the game I played in was nine tries to four. Defence really isn't a priority in Japanese games. They didn't score down my wing when I was on, which would otherwise be a massive boon for any winger, but I don't think they care enough to even notice a statistic like that. At one point I'd tracked back to the opposite wingers line in order to help out. They chipped it over me and scored anyway, but I was in foreign territory for sure.
In all, a bad day. The realisation that playing for this team is inevitably going to involve keeping the bench warmed up is a bummer. Then again, maybe it will spur me on to play harder. Or maybe I'll just give up. It'll be an interesting test of character for sure.
And at last, the pictures. Only two I'm afraid.
I played my first game for a new rugby team. They pay for my travel and give me free bananas, so it's a good deal for all involved. (I don't like bananas, but don't tell them that.)
There are two incredibly frustrating things about this team though. Firstly, they like to kick. They like to kick a lot. I was told beforehand that their kickers would regularly gain sixty metres, that the standard of kicking was superb. The standard of place-kicking is sublime, there's no doubting that. This is one of the few teams I've played in where scoring on the wing doesn't preclude the extra points.
Kicking from hand however; that's a different matter. It's okay. It's not spectacular. In fact, of the four tries scored against us, two came from poor kicks gifting the opposition lots of space. Space they decided to use by running the ball. They scored because they didn't kick. There is a lesson here somewhere.
I am not a great kicker - certainly not the 60m kind. However none of these players are the 60m kind either (certainly not from what I saw yesterday) so I am equal to the back three in that regard (at least in my humble). They've pigeon-holed me as some kind of ape who can only run. The truth is, I'm an ape who realises that kicking gains you thirty metres, loses you the ball and subsequently puts your team under pressure. A truly exceptional kick will alleviate pressure, but the word 'exceptional,' is indicative of how often those kicks happen.
The second frustrating point is that the team is already set. I'm the fourth player in a backline of three, one of whom is the captain. The odds of me breaking into this team seem slim. Combine the inherent cronyism evident in any established team with my lack of Japanese rugby culture (kicking = good, running+tackling = bad) means it's going to be bloody hard to get a first team position.
This, however, won't stop me from trying. Even if I only get twenty-five minutes in this team (like at the weekend) it might be in front of someone important in another team, who just happen to lack a winger or full-back.
Just to make my point, if J.P. Pieterson were Japanese, he would have kicked it and this try wouldn't have happened:
Obviously J.P. Pieterson is a massive dickhead, who was hitting players and giving crap all game (sledging goes so far, this cock takes into criminal territory, I'm surprised he wasn't arrested after the match) but his running gained at least 150m in this game, and those are metres with possession. They're invaluable.
The third thing, now that I think about it, is defence. Pieterson smashed a couple of England players, Ashton did the same for us. The score in the game I played in was nine tries to four. Defence really isn't a priority in Japanese games. They didn't score down my wing when I was on, which would otherwise be a massive boon for any winger, but I don't think they care enough to even notice a statistic like that. At one point I'd tracked back to the opposite wingers line in order to help out. They chipped it over me and scored anyway, but I was in foreign territory for sure.
In all, a bad day. The realisation that playing for this team is inevitably going to involve keeping the bench warmed up is a bummer. Then again, maybe it will spur me on to play harder. Or maybe I'll just give up. It'll be an interesting test of character for sure.
And at last, the pictures. Only two I'm afraid.
Wednesday 13 June 2012
I lied. Again.
Swearing to follow.
So I didn't get round to sorting out the photographs yesterday.
I went home, made myself an amazing bacon and egg sandwich (with a baguette, not normal bread), turned on the computer and played a strategy game about taking over the universe. The problem with strategy games is that they tend to take a long time. One that focuses on taking over a few different, extremely complicated solar systems, takes even longer. The upshot was that I had to go to bed before I even finished the game. Whoops.
Obviously I didn't have time to put any pictures up, or do anything productive at all.
Then again, I'm going to the gym today so maybe something will get done after I get back. Maybe.
I'm not going to make the same mistake again. Perhaps you'll get pictures tomorrow.
In other news: This extremely enlightening article highlights how we all became fat bastards. By extremely enlightening I actually mean patronising, obtuse and uninformative. The writer divulges such gems as, 'contrary to popular belief, we as a race have not become greedier or less active in recent years,' to then go ahead and say, 'Genetically, human beings haven't changed, but our environment, our access to cheap food has.' 'We're being bombarded every day by the food industry to consume more food.' 'As a result[of this access], burgers got bigger and chips got fattier.'
So which is it? We are eating more, or we aren't. Make your mind up, jesus.
One of the experts (gunning for the drinks industry) illuminates the argument with this gem: 'the evidence says that obesity is caused when people consume too many calories without the exercise to balance it out.'
Really? REALLY? Christ almighty. If someone says something so fucking obvious that it makes your toes curl, it's probably best not to put it into the article. This writer is awful. Then again, the BBC takes the internet section of its business seriously in the same way people take clowns seriously. I don't mean the sad French kind, by the way.
Anyway, maybe photos will arrive tomorrow.
Maybe.
So I didn't get round to sorting out the photographs yesterday.
I went home, made myself an amazing bacon and egg sandwich (with a baguette, not normal bread), turned on the computer and played a strategy game about taking over the universe. The problem with strategy games is that they tend to take a long time. One that focuses on taking over a few different, extremely complicated solar systems, takes even longer. The upshot was that I had to go to bed before I even finished the game. Whoops.
Obviously I didn't have time to put any pictures up, or do anything productive at all.
Then again, I'm going to the gym today so maybe something will get done after I get back. Maybe.
I'm not going to make the same mistake again. Perhaps you'll get pictures tomorrow.
In other news: This extremely enlightening article highlights how we all became fat bastards. By extremely enlightening I actually mean patronising, obtuse and uninformative. The writer divulges such gems as, 'contrary to popular belief, we as a race have not become greedier or less active in recent years,' to then go ahead and say, 'Genetically, human beings haven't changed, but our environment, our access to cheap food has.' 'We're being bombarded every day by the food industry to consume more food.' 'As a result[of this access], burgers got bigger and chips got fattier.'
So which is it? We are eating more, or we aren't. Make your mind up, jesus.
One of the experts (gunning for the drinks industry) illuminates the argument with this gem: 'the evidence says that obesity is caused when people consume too many calories without the exercise to balance it out.'
Really? REALLY? Christ almighty. If someone says something so fucking obvious that it makes your toes curl, it's probably best not to put it into the article. This writer is awful. Then again, the BBC takes the internet section of its business seriously in the same way people take clowns seriously. I don't mean the sad French kind, by the way.
Anyway, maybe photos will arrive tomorrow.
Maybe.
Tuesday 12 June 2012
Photos Incoming
I may well have promised photographs. I may well have been somewhat hasty with that promise, but they'll come up soon enough.
On a side-note, china is going to send up a female astronaut.
The fact this article is garbage (quoting comments in a BBC article, really? A thinly veiled attempt to impress the world that he can understand chinese) is neither here nor there; the criteria for eligibility are actually quite interesting. Have at least one child, be married, no birthing scars. They're carefully picked to ensure the wholesome image of a family friendly, cuddly, china.
As a side note, everyone has scars. The reason they cite for not having them is they might explode in space. What? It's obvious that isn't a real reason, so it must be for the whole purity of image thing.
As someone pointed out, similar restrictions were in place for the original american astronauts fifty years ago.
That seems to prove just how far behind the chinese really are. Scientifically, they're probably only a few years behind in most areas, but socially they're generations away from gaining parity. I wonder if it's necessary to be within a similar societal structure for technological advancement to evolve on its own. The old communists proved that it's untenable with their model (despite being in the lead,' for a while) so I'm cautious to predict them overtaking anyone in the sciences. Evidently, they're taking over the world economically. They're already the most important country in the world (whether others accept it or not) but they've broken through via means that are designed to stifle innovation, creativity and invention. In this world, they're commodities that are pre-requisites for cutting edge advancement.
It seems to me (some might say luckily) that china will not take the mantle of science and technology superpower, at least while they cling onto faux communism.
On a side-note, china is going to send up a female astronaut.
The fact this article is garbage (quoting comments in a BBC article, really? A thinly veiled attempt to impress the world that he can understand chinese) is neither here nor there; the criteria for eligibility are actually quite interesting. Have at least one child, be married, no birthing scars. They're carefully picked to ensure the wholesome image of a family friendly, cuddly, china.
As a side note, everyone has scars. The reason they cite for not having them is they might explode in space. What? It's obvious that isn't a real reason, so it must be for the whole purity of image thing.
As someone pointed out, similar restrictions were in place for the original american astronauts fifty years ago.
That seems to prove just how far behind the chinese really are. Scientifically, they're probably only a few years behind in most areas, but socially they're generations away from gaining parity. I wonder if it's necessary to be within a similar societal structure for technological advancement to evolve on its own. The old communists proved that it's untenable with their model (despite being in the lead,' for a while) so I'm cautious to predict them overtaking anyone in the sciences. Evidently, they're taking over the world economically. They're already the most important country in the world (whether others accept it or not) but they've broken through via means that are designed to stifle innovation, creativity and invention. In this world, they're commodities that are pre-requisites for cutting edge advancement.
It seems to me (some might say luckily) that china will not take the mantle of science and technology superpower, at least while they cling onto faux communism.
Thursday 7 June 2012
Youtube is a Strange Thing
So I was just looking through my youtube channel (I've had it for years, it's interesting to go back and check out the 'old,' internet every now and again) and one of my videos has 11,000 hits.
What.
It turns out that the title of my video happens to share the name of a famous song. Strangeness explained it seems.
Anyway, the photos I took last weekend at the 7's can be seen here:
http://www.eastern-escapology.blogspot.jp/2012/06/blog-post.html
Be cool.
#EDIT# This video has 40,000 views. What.
What.
It turns out that the title of my video happens to share the name of a famous song. Strangeness explained it seems.
Anyway, the photos I took last weekend at the 7's can be seen here:
http://www.eastern-escapology.blogspot.jp/2012/06/blog-post.html
Be cool.
#EDIT# This video has 40,000 views. What.
No seriously. What. If everyone turned off after 1 second, that's 40,000 seconds of peoples lives watching this crappy quality video of an (admittedly awesome) street performer.
What.
Wednesday 6 June 2012
7's and Mitaka
So I went for some rugby trials last week. They were for the Japanese national 7's team (crazy) and were a ton of fun. It started really early, so I had to stay in Mitaka overnight. It's now my new favourite residential area in Japan, there's tons of green space, museums and interesting spaces. Really nice. Anyway, pictures!
There are also a lot of flower shops in Mitaka. I don't know why.
A bed of purple things.
This guy is all over Japan. He's one of the candidates for some kind of election (who knows what?) and is one of the religious leaders here, apparently. (That is to say, he's religious in his outlook, not necessarily a priest.)
This is a typical small shrine, found all around the country.
This is someones garage entrance, interesting design lives!
I can't remember what kind of food this is, but it looked pretty delicious. It was before the restaurant opened so I didn't try any, but the guy was kind enough to let me take a picture.
Some old cameras. Not my area of interest, but they were quite interesting anyway.
A random chef. He smiled afterwards, honest!
They try to pretty up the streets in any way possible. (Fake) copper lanterns count as prettying, apparently.
More flowers.
Yet more flowers.
Bill and Ben, Japanese style.
Even more flowers.
A tall building. I've no idea why this one building was so tall, there really were no other buildings of the same size anywhere near this area. With all the flower shops and parks, I've got to assume this area has a lot of money floating around.
People don't like their pictures being taken, but they don't mind their dogs being shot.
One of the dancers from the original YMCA group.
Like a bicycle stand, but for mopeds.
I bought a few things from this shop. It seemed to be a local craft shop, with products made by the local knitting circle that I stumbled across.
I had to shoot at 24mm because the shop was tiny. Not the most flattering angle, but I couldn't fit any other way.
This is a fairly typical sight regardless of where you are in Japan. They love neon and flashing lights. The question has to be, if everyone has showy signs with lights and music, how does anyone get an advantage from putting on such displays?
I wondered whether this extremely interesting arch was man-made or a happy accident.
You can just about see the house on the left has a green roof. That's actually grass, and any near horizontal surfaces are covered in grass and plants.
On the way to look at the Ghibli museum (I didn't have enough time to go inside, just had a look around) you pass through a park. The park emanates the kind of whimsy feel you expect from the movies; it's a good fit.
This is the exterior of the museum, at closing time.
Another dog. Like I said, no one likes having their pictures taken, but everyone loves their dogs being photographed.
There were a couple of old fashioned buildings hidden inside the park. This was one of them. It was quite late by the time I'd made it to the park, so everything is a bit dark and blurry. Whoops.
I poked my head over the gate to take this, nearly impaling myself in the process. They had barbed wire wrapped around the gate which I felt was somewhat approaching overkill, especially considering this looks like a religious building.
This is one of the lakes in the park. Again, it's quite dark but there's nothing that can be done about that considering the lateness of the hour.
A bridge leading to another shrine. Pretty self-explanatory really.
Guess what this is a picture of.
This guy was taking pictures of people as they passed over the bridge, with his giant camera. I managed to take his picture before he could take mine. Score one for the novice.
This grilled chicken restaurant is immensely popular, and according to the local shopkeepers is packed every single night. That queue is heading downstairs, then upstairs, then downstairs into the restaurant, or up for takeaway. Mental.
The perfect example of an 'almost,' picture. The only one I managed to take of this dog that was in focus, and I missed the head.
This shop was dedicated to all things English. I've no idea why. Who would want to run a shop like that?
They love cute things, even if they're borderline terrifying like this guy.
He's the brother of the YMCA guy from before, but I couldn't manage to get him dancing.
The streets around the next station (I walked from one to the other by accident, I was just wandering) are extremely busy. The people have an ability to part when a bus is bearing down on them, even if it's coming up from behind. They don't need to look, and the buses are actually damn quiet. The same thing for cars and bicycles. This leads me to the conclusion that they must be ninja.
There aren't many estate agents that employ such pictures to sell their houses. It's relatively unique, if somewhat confusing.
Yet another flower shop.
So I stayed in a capsule hotel, which is basically a coffin with a curtain. Mine also had a computer, but it was too dusty/old to do anything without sounding like Concorde was landing next door.
The coffins double up. One up, one down.
My shoes were horrifically smelly, needless to say they lived outside.
There weren't many people at the trial, but the ones I met were pretty nice. By met I actually mean talk to, because the atmosphere was pretty standoffish.
There were three foreigners, one aussie, me, and this guy, a Fijian. Pretty handy as you might expect from a Fijian.
The Toshiba factory complex is massive, and has one huge free standing tower right in the middle of it. No one could figure out the purpose of it, I'm pretty sure everyone agreed it was phallic.
I don't know why the two guys in the middle were doing the haka. No idea.
All that haka made them sleepy.
There were a few caged kittens on the way back to the station. I don't know whether they were being exploited for charitable reasons, but the locals couldn't get enough.
The long walk back home.
The train racing a car, on the way back home.
Red lights mean walk, right?
And that's it. Next time I head out into the wild I'll take some more pictures, but for the last three days I've been exceptionally lazy (I've not been to the gym once!) because the buildup to this particular weekend was quite hectic. Recovery time.
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