Musing and Bruising

So it's officially Christmas.  The people in my local supermarket have begun wearing their traditional Santa hats.  I say traditional despite having lived here for one year, and not knowing how long they've been going at it.  How long does something take to become traditional?  On a similar note, how long is a piece of string?

It's halfway through November and I'm already sick of sleigh bells and general Christmas assery. This is Japan, a country distinctly lacking in Christians.  Why.  Just why.

Anyway, I recently found out there's a country more insular than France even, and lo and behold it's Japan.  In a straw poll survey (the kind major news outlets solely rely upon for their hard facts) the Japanese teacher asked the students how many had flown on aeroplanes (the suggested correction for aeroplane in the dictionary is Aristophanes, what?).  A grand total of six people had flown, which isn't many considering these kids are fifteen or sixteen years old.  The obvious follow on was how many people had left Japan before.  It turns out those flights were all domestic - no one had ever left Japan.  Then he asked how many wanted to leave Japan at some point in the future; two people raised their hands.

Christ.

Welcome to small town Japan!  Japan is a small country, both literally and metaphorically.  I can't fathom wanting to stay in the same place your whole life, let alone somewhere with such a limited view of the world.  Then again, I was exceptionally lucky to be taken to dozens of countries as a kid and probably see the world as much through vehicle windows as with unfiltered eyes.  Still, I can't help but wonder whether it wouldn't be more effective to throw the kids out into the world, then let them filter back to Japan when they've gained knowledge of things outside their normal spheres.  Surely that would help the economy, innovation is key to continued growth, so we're constantly told.

I can see the ulterior motive for keeping the populace downward looking though - the fourteen hour days that pervade the Japanese economy would cease to exist overnight because the average Japanese would see how everyone else is more profitable while working fewer hours.  Work smart, not hard.

But I can also see the flip-side to the alternative, as it were.  Japanese people are fanatically stubborn, and when I mention that, for example, in the 90's British growth outpaced Japanese growth by a factor of three for nearly a decade, while the average person enjoyed working far fewer hours, they simply shrug and say this is the Japanese way.  The European mentality of one good hour being worth three bad ones simply doesn't rub in Asia.  Having been here a while, I still fail to understand their thinking behind this 'work ethic.'

In reading a random article on the internet I came across one entitled 'Sorry, But This 72 Year-Old Grandfather is Way Cooler Than All Our Grandfathers.'

It's about a grandad that dresses up like a woman.  It's essentially bollocks, written up to make it seems slightly less testicular in nature - but no amount of fluff will detract from the painfully obvious fact that it is, at the most fundamental level, garbage.

What is interesting however, are the americans.  They have taken umbrage with the title and as such, we are treated with such gems as:

My grandfather has lived sixty-six years of agony with shrapnel from a Nazi potmash irretrievably lodged in his lower back, all so I could avoid goose-stepping to my factory job every day with a Mein Kampf pocket companion. So no, probably not cooler than my grandfather. Now, this may well be someone making an ironic point.  I will concede that possibly, I am falling into a trap made by an astute student of the american psyche.
But I don't think I am.  The spelling isn't usually this good when dealing with internet trolls and counter-trolls. Also, I have faith in the unplumbed depths of american stupidity. Now, with Christmas approaching everyone wants to buy things for everyone else. Stop right there. I am full.  I have to move house soon, and I have more things than I thought humanly possible.  I have so many things.  I don't need any of these things, I certainly don't need more!  It's going to cost an arm and three legs to move it all from where I am now, to wherever I end up. I also have bajillions of clothes, none of which I wear (outside the obligatory shirts and rugby kit) and only a few of which have holes in them.  More to the point, I don't want anything else.  I have everything I need, I'd like a couple of lenses for my camera, a good tripod (300 or more pounds to you, sir) and a battery grip (another 300 quid) but they are things I can wait a few years to save up for myself.  These are all items that are in the 'oh and a house, and a car, and a million pounds,' category, so there is really nothing of reasonable value I want. So what can you do?

(You're all getting pictures by the way.)
(Tough tits.) If you've been watching the rugby, you've been depressed by the English performances (but heartened by their insistence on playing positive, attacking rugby.)  You may also have seen some ridiculous facial hair.  Unfortunately, I fell into this trap.  I made a deal that scoring would allow me to shave everything but an unfortunate 'tache, two would let me shave everything.  I only scored one last week and none this week, so I have a moronic moustache that is utterly ridiculous.  I'll get a picture up sooner or later, but in the meantime if you see a charity box, drop fifty pence in - think of it as an honorary donation on behalf of eyebrows raised wherever I go. And finally, a funny little animated short.  It looks pretty nice, even if the animation is a bit rough.  I wonder how many parents feel this way, and I also wonder how close to home this hits for my own.
I'll put up some rugby pictures later in the week, along with a quick review of our devastating defeat that leaves our promotion hopes hanging by a thread.