Scots for Dummies

As a kid I liked the book 'The Twits', so I was impressed when I recently stumbled across 'The Eejits', which is 'The Twits' translated into Scots.

As it says on the publisher's site, more or less, it's the same Roald Dahl story about the world's most revolting couple - Mr Twit was horrible and hairy and his wife Mrs Twit was just plain ugly, in The Eejits they are honkin, mawkit, bowfin and clarty and Mrs Eejit's hackitness is revealed in all its manky glory.

What a great idea. I wander if it ever went under the working title 'The Numpties'. Wouldn't it be great if other publishers took it upon themselves to branch into the Scots domain?

As it happens, now we can almost bring this into reality:



Alright, so this website allows you to mock up a would be 'for Dummies' book cover, and this may turn into a kind of caption competition for anyone that can be humped, but it made me chuckle. Even this mob will host your generated images for nowt.

I may have made a rookie mistake of assuming that people are familiar with the 'for Dummies' book series, which is maybe something I should keep quiet about, as it's not so much going over folks heads as under, though we are talking about books here.

This has also been the longest setup, without a punchline right enough, since I spent a few years of my life in the '90s pretending to study Electrical and Electronic Engineering, with the sole purpose of answering the lecturer's question 'What is a transformer?'.

This is my first post since leaving Japan. I'm really busy training to become a teacher just now and shouldn't be mucking around with this. I get a few weeks break at Christmas when I hope to upload our last pictures of Japan, some since (which should be interesting), some writing about goings on and a formal closing ceremony on the blog, Japanese style.

Until December!

How to become the Secretary-General of the United Nations

A lovely stuffed tanuki on a safe

A lovely stuffed tanuki on top of a safe, in the office of one of my JHS Principals. I flipping love that stuffed tanuki.

In other news, at the start of this year Ban Ki-moon replaced Kofi Annan as the Secretary-General of the United Nations. I did a bit of research and it turns out that Kofi Annan replaced Boutros Boutros-Ghali.

Some even further research revealed that the only credentials necessary to become the Secretary -General of the United Nations is a Jedi name, which can only be approved by Mark Hamill or George Lucas. It makes sense when you think about it. Gives them a certain gravitas supposedly.

Oh aye, we felt a bit of an earthquake on Sunday. Everything's tickety boo, but the Vice Principal (or Principal of Vice as I prefer it) in my main JHS, had to go and sort his house out in Kashiwazaki. This was the town that was worst hit. Check out the pictures, it was a big deal.

Angels with dirty faces?

I never speak to anyone in certain parts of Scotland about 'Britain'. Yes, I'm Scottish and from the land of hope and glory. After all of the Catholic church scandals that have emanated from, amongst every good nation on the planet including Ireland, I've always thought that the Emerald Isle should sing about being the land of grope and holy. In a tongue in cheek manner of course, as long as the tongue belongs to the same owner as the cheek, and both remain attached to the person. You can't be too contractually careful with religious perverts.

Another Catholic child abuse scandal has emerged, this time in LA, the city of Angels. As if times weren't bad enough with the Bloods,the Crips and the Osbournes, some of the Christians have turned against them too.

It's the usual story of the church being rumbled for years of child abuse which is ultimately sad and terrible for all of the poor victims involved.

This story triggered an alarm bell with me however, when I heard, on the BBC news, the local Cardinal making a statement on behalf of the Catholic church. The local Cardinal's name is 'Roger Mahony'. Jesus H. Corbett, couldn't they have found someone else with a better name? I can just imagine the Pope sitting down to his tea of egg 'n' chips, being hit by this story on the TV, and then seeing the banner with 'Cardinal Roger Mahony'. "Roger? Mahony? Aw for fecks sake!", he'd quibble in Latin. Who else was available to make a statement? Bishop Phil McCracken? It really made me cringe when I heard 'Roger' talking about their 'innocence' being taken away. Man, to believe in a religion that has a reset button on their conscience must be sweet. The other thing that made my mind spin faster than a priest's cassock, is that the victims are to be given a joint lump sum of $660 million compensation. I have no problem with that but what happens now? Do they have to fight it out and prove how much they were abused? That is going to be one dark day in court that will essentially put the price on buggery with a choir boy. What a menu that would make. I can just see it now displayed on the wall of a church on a hymn board.

I'm not religious one way or the other and would just as happily write about any other religious mob that partook in such hypocritically despicable behaviour. I know there are a lot of good Catholic Christians out there, some of which are my friends.

Probably the best name for an off license... ever!

Self explanatory

The Japanese habit of mistranslating English into Japanese is well documented as Engrish.

Now and again they hit the nail right on the head however and I think this is a prime example. The above picture is of our local off license, brilliantly titled 'Self'. Even the logo is a beauty, that S isn't someone giving the thumbs up but rather a punter happily getting a punch in the chops. I'm tempted to photoshop the logo out of the picture and use it when I start a typically self indulgent blog called 'Self', when I get home. It's either going to be 'Self' or 'I really love me!'.

Another random bit of knowledge that I have picked up about off licenses around the world, is that in Australia, they call them 'bottle shops'. Makes sense I suppose, as if you've ever know an Australian with a bottle of 'grog' it's not long before it's just a bottle. A bit rich coming from a Scotchlander some may think. Taking it one step further for us, maybe we should name our 'bottle shops', 'broken glass shops' as we tend to demolish the contents of the bottle, go mental and then proceed to demolish someone with the bottle, usually starting with the heed, resulting in a demolished bottle too.

Wouldn't it be cool if the Australians applied this bottle shop logic to every type of Australian shop. Supermarkets would be 'shite stores', as that's just the next step after the shelf and frying pan.

I wander where Australians buy bottles?

We are the champeens my friend!

The 2007 Sado Soccer League champeens

We played the final game of the season on July 8th against the team that we were joint top with, the evil black stripped 'Shoot Club', which is obviously an anagram of Succubus. It was winner takes all and the biggest game of the season.

Two things were significant in this game. First, Matt and I had been out the entire night before with the Niigata ALT football lads for a farewell do, getting no sleep other than two and half hours on the ferry home, which seemed like a time machine. We were still a bit reeking from a very late but great karaoke performance. Both Matt and I had differing orifices sending very threatening neural messages to our soused brains, that if we put on a pair of shorts and kicked a ball, they'd unleash their payload with as much fury as they could. The other point to note was that I have recently introduced one of the new young PE teachers from one of my schools to the team, and it was his first game. This new player turned out to be the best player I have ever played with. He was awesome! It turns out that he's played to a very high level in Niigata.

Having said that, we were down 0 - 1 at half time though we'd had the majority of possession in a pretty physical game. I was a bit shaky to say the least and I was actually booked, for the first time in my puff, for wellying some poor Shoot Clubber. I chopped him with an uncharacteristic flailing right foot though I wasn't the only guilty one, as every Destroyer seemed to hack this poor wee mite at some point in the match. The referee was bloody awful, but doing his best and I deserved the yellow card. At half time, I knew we were going to win. I couldn't put my finger on it, due to said orifice threats, but I knew we were going to do it. I was moved from midfield to attack in the second half and the change helped I think. Not because of my performance but because the guy they moved into my position played well. I managed to do a job and header the odd ball. Not long into the second half, good old Matt scored the first goal after a header was saved from a corner but not cleared. Matt punted the ball into the back of the net, making no mistake, and set us up for glory. We were all over them and Shoot Club should have been renamed Shat Club, as they were on the defensive big time. It wasn't long before we had another chance and Matt laid off a ball to another good player, Machan, who finished the move expertly. The crowd went bananas. From then on we were cruising and there was only the odd moment when we were under any pressure. The final whistle blew to conclude a great closing game to the 2007 Sado League. To be fair to Shoot Club they put in a typically brave Japanese performance though the score flattered them, in my opinion.

Our captain, Tsuyoshi, a very nice chap, was awarded the cup and the job was a good 'un. He even got the ice water box over the head a la NFL culture. After the disappointingly early exit from Nagano with the ALT team, this made it up for Matt and I, who have been enjoying playing with this nice bunch of Japanese lads. I'll be sorry to leave them.

The final countdown dee-dee-deee deeee...

Bad Rabby, not a mean Scots poet but a mean Japanese rabbit
with a chain and patent leather attitude

Significant events and meaningful happenings are blurring past at an accelerating rate.

It's our last week of our two year stay in Japan, and I still can't believe that we're living in this very foreign land. Many things, including the breath taking scenery, still stop me in my tracks. I won't have to worry about that before long, and this foreign land will fade into a beautifully soft focused memory backdrop that's been power washed with a cocktail of Japanese draft beer, back sweat and shredded dried squid. I'll miss nama birru. Always cold and frothy. I'll not miss back sweat or shredded dried squid.

I'll probably not manage that many more posts from Japan as we've got parties-a-go-go pretty much until we leave. I will endeavour to do my best however anything left over, pictures and tales, will be uploaded when I get back home in and around August. Until then I'll give a quick round up of a few of this month's has beens in the next few posts.

The sleeper has awoken

The future? It's Sting with a jackdaw embedded in his crotch

I love the book and film Dune.

The Freman suits were totally awesome and I always really wanted a pair of Freman underpants. Fair enough, they would look like they were made by a balloon twisting artist, but you could happily go about your daily business without having to so much as think twice about breaking wind (I wander if assembling wind sounds like a fart in reverse), never mind anything else. In fact, you'd be praying for the odd fart as the pants would be able to take the kinetic and potential energy and transform it into something more useful. If I had a pair of these briefs, I'd get them fitted with one of the wierding modules too, at the back or front I suppose, and after some practice you could kill people using only your pants. God knows what noise would be produced and I suppose they'd have to be operated by cocking a leg. A can of beans would be the equivalent of Popeye's spinach and a lot more welcome accompanying a fry up. What a life in Freman pants would be, you'd be able to go around dishing out insults like there was no th'morrow and if anyone tried to kick you in the nuts, they'd be protected by a life supporting pipeline of urine. Hurrah. As long as no one tried to chib your balls, that's below the belt to say the least, you'd be King of the Castle and look super cool to boot. The skiffs above aren't Freman briefs, though they are also crackers.

Ah Dune, wouldn't it have been great if the sleeper had awoken only to hit the snooze button and subsequently damn everyone else for an extra five minutes kip. Just like it would have been great if Neo didn't save man kind as he was "feeling a bit mince today". I mean feeling bad, not literally fondling some minced beef. That would be an even better reason for giving up on man kind however - "Screw you lot! I've a braw bit of mince to fondle, and it's got my name on it!"

Back to reality and no need for a super being, who wasn't quite sure they were a super being, to be able to fanny with our future. I can do that myself you know.

Great Fish II

Great Fish II

Makes you wonder what ever happened to "Great Fish".

If I ever own a boat, I'm going to call it:

"Really Great Fish III"

2007: A Sado Odyssey

Please watch the trailer above.

I made this myself and it has now made it onto the official Cameron Archibald body of work. As you can guess, it's not easy to make the list because that requires doing stuff. Check out the fine company of masterpieces that it now joins:

• Desk alarm made from my sister's electronic yapping dog, shatterproof ruler and a magnet
• Stairway to heaven ringtone on an early Ericsson mobile phone
• Theme from Steptoe and Son ringtone on an Ericsson T68
• 2005 Halloween costume - futon zombie
• 2006 Halloween costume - Jack Skellington's barnet

Japanese muppets

Last month we made a trip down to Tokyo and Mount Fuji, more still pictures to follow. The video above is of a Japanese puppet show that was performed on the ferry from Sado to Niigata.

It was probably the best ferry ride ever as there were a ton of dolphins performing their own show in the wake of the boat about half way across. It's the first time we've seen wild dolphins over here and it was amazing.

I've uploaded another puppet video and some footage where you can just make out the dolphins here:

http://www.youtube.com/cameronarchibald

The meaning of success and the tree within

The meaning of success formed in
fake fur, mule style colonel's on tatami.

I've been a busy bee lately and therefore been a bit of a slacker on the blog. I'm a slogger. As I was discussing with a fellow Niigata blogger and soccer team mate, Martin, blogging is a catch 22. If you're doing stuff you have no time to tell anyone about the interesting things you've been up to. When you've got nothing to do you blog about nothing. I've maybe just summed up blogging in a sentence there. I suppose, like everything on this planet, including most importantly seesaws, it's a balance.

The picture above will take you to some of our pics. There's a couple of my drive to my main school, including the tree within and some around my school with newly planted rice paddies.

Kyameron no zubon wa doko desu ka?

Cam at Uchikaifu JHS in his kilt, ya hoor sir!

Well I've just come down from the Isle of Sado,
I'm awfy big but I'm no so bad - o!
All the rassies shout as I sneak by,
Kyameron no zubon wa doko desu ka?

Let the wind blow high let the wind blow low,
Through the schools in my kilt I go,
All the lassies cry "Harro!
Kyameron no zubon wa doko desu ka?

Buck Cherry 2007,
Duck Down Beeping Slag Records©

The man bags and the shecht rag

My new year Japanese message (It says 'Auld rang syne') and I like to take the odd swipe at the ridiculous Japanese national pride

Click on the joined pictures above to see our latest snaps on Sunny Sado, or click on the new flash dooda on the right.

My last post had 'man bag' in the title and I noticed on my site stats that someone was sniffing around my site looking for something related to a man bag. I bet they had to delve deep, past the first three google pages of the search to come up trumps with my post. I recently bought a bag, more a brief case type thing, you know for carrying around my skiffs, but it could be mistaken for a man bag. The Japanese geezers love their man bags, and there are some real belters around, most are really cheesy piles of silk lined, leather shite. Some however are very cool. Since investing in a bag it has to be said, they rule the school and it beats having pockets full of keich.

My one is made by this bunch, who make all sorts of bags, luggage and other tripe.

At the end of the Japanese version of The Office...

So once you think you're in you're out
'Cause you don't mean a single thing without
The man bags and the shect rag
That your poor old Grandad had to sweat to buy you

This verse is bang on the money, as it's all the old folks that work the rice fields in Japan, 'cause the young people can't be humped as they are too busy fannying around with their keitai (mobile/cell phone) or mucking around with their hair. I reckon there's trouble a brewing. They're going to have to get in some cheap foreign labour and that's not going to be popular with this very homogenous nation. Don't get me wrong, I'm not calling them a nation of brilliant bandits. That's the price of a good man bag you see, you can't have everything.

Reborn like a man bag from the flames

Front

Here's a scan of a flyer for a little bar called Rock Rock that we visited in Osaka last year. This is probably the best flyer in the world.



Rear

The picture of the ferrets in leathers with metal instruments and rock get up is funny, so I've pinched it as my new logo and in a flash of inspiration renamed the blog from 'Big in Japan' (which turned out not to be an overly original blog title) to 'The Ferrets of Mercy'. Maybe in true rock n roll spirit, the blog should be called 'The blog previously known as Big in Japan'.

On an entirely ferret related subjet, one of our chums, Thea, is applying to graduate school, help her win a scholarship here:

Vote for Thea's essay at CollegeToolkit.com and help her win $10,000 for college!

Talking prolix

Oni daiko off at Kanai festival last weekend

Jings, I can slaver a load of mince. I stuck the background way below as optional reading otherwise here's the cream of the crop:

The funniest incident at this last work party a week last Friday occurred in the toilet, of all places. Upon my first excursion to the can, after holding on for as long as possible like all male beer drinkers (cause the path gets well worn once you start), I went into the toilet exchanging my shoes for toilet slippers as usual. Even the bogs have special footwear in Japan - generally the sink where you wash and dry your hands is outside the toilet and as you go through the door you exchange your shoes for a pair of garish rubber slippers. One of the funniest things that you can supposedly do is come back to a party with the toilet slippers on. This is Japanese comedy remember.

Just as I was doing this, another guy from my office was coming out of the bog so we kind of did a relay race hand over with the rubber slippers acting as batons. He's a youngish chap with very short hair, whom I've played football against a while back. He used to be a good baseball player until he knackered his elbow and that's why I thought he had the shaved head (Japanese baseball players all go for a skin head for some reason). However, earlier that evening I had found out that he was a Buddhist and that was the reason why he had the short hair. Like the punter played by David Carradine in Kung Fu.

As I'm entering the toilet, this guy I dunno his name, shouted something into me and laughed and I agreed with whatever he said (my Japanese becomes more adventurous when I've had a couple) and I saw him bugger off back to the party with my peripheral vision. I was alone now and I continued to whizz for a while, as I said it was the first of the night, and just as I was near finishing, I farted. Like you do. Well I do anyway, seems like what ever I was holding onto in the water works department also held up the gas works too. Nothing special, not that long, loud, reeking or particularly tuneful. It's not that I'm writing home about. Just as my rasp ended the skin head guy popped his head around the door, said something really quickly that I didn't understand, and pished himself laughing. I almost shat myself. What a fright he gave me. I was just coming to the end of a much needed hit or a miss (notice it could be a miss or a hit too), enjoying the relief and a little bonus parp and he almost gives me a ruddy heart attack. Immediately after getting over the fright I was quickly embarrassed which gave me a rapid beamer then after two seconds the booze overrode that, I laughed and farted for a second time as if to prove that I didn't give a damn. Which I didn't. This bloody nut case then scurried off back to the party whilst I completed my transaction at the urinal.

I'd love to know what he said.

"I'll name that tune in one"

"Knit a cardy out of that"

"It's just as well I have short hair, Grasshopper"

Answers on a postcard please, or comment below.

I hope it leads directly to his enlightenment. I can just imagine the Buddhist fable that he'll write from this encounter, I'll save that parody for another time.



Background reading:
I mentioned back here about enkais, and for once I'll cash the cheque that my hands typed on the keyboard.

Caroline was tea total at her enkai a week last Friday as she was driving. A bus was laid on for mine however and I was happy to enjoy a few Friday night beers. Enkai's are very different from us going down to the pub on a Friday after work. Typical of the Japanese, they are very well organised and follow a semi strict protocol. The most surprising aspect is that they start and end at a set time after only a couple of hours though for the booze hounds there is usually a second and sometimes a third party. Typically each time the location moves the party number increments.

Most of my office enkai's have been held in a large function room of a hotel with tatami mat floors (reed matted flooring that you can't wear shoes or Colonel's* on), and almost always has a stage. At the last party, there were two very long tables with mini seats down both sides, where each table had 20 odd punters each. The bosses sit in the middle and the rank usually goes down until the end of the table, where I always sit. Fair enough. There's always a spread of food - sashimi - basically sushi minus the little ball of rice, nabe - a big dish used to make all sorts of stews sitting on a gas boiler at the table - pronounced nabby, tempura, pickles and various other things depending upon the time of year.

The food really plays second fiddle to the booze, of which there is plenty of beer and sake. The large 600 odd ml bottles of either Sapporo, Kirin or Asahi are brought to the tables by the staff, where each beer drinker has a small glass. It's Japanese custom not to pour your own beer, rather you pour for those of you around you. I've never seen the staff pour (apart from one guy they had to pour into the back of a cab). The pouring business is to promote communication, which isn't really required with beer in my opinion, quite the opposite in fact. It's a nice custom in many ways but you tend to lose track of how much you have been drinking but it takes effort to get really drunk using these little glasses.

Getting really drunk can be achieved by drinking beer and sake at the same time. The Japanese like to see how much you can drink. Due to history where we used to add alcohol to our water and what not to sanitise it and the Japanese didn't, many of them get drunk really quickly. We've adapted and evolved into better boozers. It's really funny as their faces go bright red and they look stuffed no matter how much they try to hold it together. Some of them can booze it up and like to give any big Western dumplings a run for their money. I'm no specialist boozer, I enjoy a drink and tend to stick to beer, wine or sake over here and I try not to mix as that's when things go pear shaped. I have been completely pished twice in the last 6 months and it has to be said that's when I've mixed drinks (beer and Jinro some Korean grain spirit that's also called shochu) and another point is that my memory is really terrible these days. Fortunately office Japanese office etiquette is to act super professional during office hours and so nothing is mentioned even if you gave them the old elephant with cloth ears party piece.

* Mackney rhyming slang for baffies - "Colonel Gaddafi's". Baffies is Scots slang used in some parts of Scotland for slippers.

Scotsman in the land of no fork

Lion statue under lantern lit sakura, Kanai.


I don't drink oolong I drink bru my dear,
Like my breeks done on one side,
And you can hear it in my accent when I squawk,
I'm a Scotsman in the land of no fork.

See me sauntering down the paddy fields,
An arm and leg here at my side,
I take them everywhere I walk,
I'm a Scotsman in the land of no fork.

I'm an arian, I'm a regal arian,
I'm a Scotsman in a land of no fork,
I'm an arian, I'm a regal arian,
I'm a Scotsman in a land of no fork.

Buck Cherry 2007,
Duck Down Beeping Slag Records©

Apples, the choice of a new generation

Spring sunset, from our apartment

Click on the picture above to see the rest on flickr, I just uploaded plenty of pictures from the weekend for anyone that's bored.

My blogging has been a bit better lately. I'm getting more into it and have become a little better organised with the pictures (flickr makes this really easy) though I've still to plug a few gaps and update some old posts. All in good time, well before July anyway, as that's when we'll be winding up.

One update for the moment is about our trip to Osaka to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers. There isn't much to report other than the Japan leg of the tour was postponed until June because the singer had something wrong with his throat! Coming from the man who wrote and sang 'Can't stop, addicted to the shindig', I was a little miffed. I suppose these things happen but it was still a bummer. At least we weren't just down in Osaka for the gig and were able to move onto the next stage of our little tour without much fuss. Hey ho, back on with our show.

Last weekend was some what interesting as we were both at our respective office enkai's (Japanese after work drinking and eating party - I'll explain about in the next post) on the Friday night and I played for the first time, along with Matt (friend and fellow ALT on Sado from Atlanta, the home of Pepsi and an underwater city to boot - no surprise that it has the world's largest aquarium) for our new found Sado 'soccer' team - the Mano Destroyers. Sounds like some sort of gay sadist club, no hold on, that's the Conservative party. How come gays always get it in the ass? It still surprises me that 'gay' is still used as a derogatory term. It's like being bald. People take the pish but it's just the way some people are. Doesn't stop us from ridiculing gays, especially the bald ones. Tories on the other hand have a choice, so it's open season for them, even the shiny headed poofy ones. Anyhoo on with the show, Mano as it happens, is one of the larger towns on the island, 'famous' (every town has it's thing that it's 'famous' for in Japan no matter how lame, they draw a line at smells though which I found out to my detriment) for it's apples. The saying "How do you like those apples?" was actually started on Sado and then translated and brought across the Pacific by Robert De Niro, who buys all his San Francisco restaurant's sake from a high quality brewery on the island. There's even a really lousy picture of him next to this brand of sake in our local super market. Bobby D tried to put his own spin on this saying however, during the relatively unknown sequel to 'Taxi driver', called 'Grocer' (also directed by Martin Scorsese) with the line "Are you looking at my apples?!?". This he continuously repeats into a mirrored bowl that customer's use to weigh fruit in. An unbelievably powerful scene, especially as De Niro was brandishing a Magnum .44 pricing gun and sporting the most sinister of all shaved hair cuts, the weg. No calling him a wegetable I tell you. Not a chance, not even in a fruit and veg shop by a complacent German, you'd be sure to get your plums to play with.

Two digit midgets

In the land of widgets,
We're two digit midgets.

Beginning to fidget,
we're not bored rigid,
Japan's not become frigid.

It's just,
I could murder some brisket,
or a digestive biscuit.

Losing m'id gets,
Longer wid' get...
Maybe you can dig it.

Buck Cherry 2007,
Duck Down Beeping Slag Records©

Citizen caned

Hop, skip, jump

Click on the picture above to see recent pictures of us in Kyoto.

I often get asked why I came to Japan. Not by disgruntled people who would rather that I piss off back from whence I came, usually, but just because it's a pretty major decision to make. Especially when you end up on Japan's Craggy Island, and people unexpectedly find you here. So far, my explanation has been such that I was browned off with what I was doing, geek negotiation (a bit like a hostage negotiator - but instead of lives, I was working with software against the evil forces of customers) and I wanted to try something completely different. The true answer is far more shallow however. The real reason is because I correctly preempted a paradigm shift in the jean fashion world. Even Nostradamus had this one pinned down. 'Skinny jeans' (as recent visitors from the West informed us of) weren't made for my thighs. I'd end up looking like a pale white, shrunken version of the Incredible Hulk, with a slightly better vocabulary, a non tattered shirt and much less physical strength. I've also heard that facial hair is popular to boot, so I've really dodged bullets from both barrels on the fashion front (both barrels tend to relate to shotguns, which fire cartridges instead of bullets usually - apologies to all gun fanatics tuning in). Even though I'm now into my third decade, my facial hair is still to fulfill it's quota. It's getting there, I'm just a late developer. Great, now that I'm well beyond the legal age for everything, but fecking hopeless when I was trying to get into a nightclub back in Perth to see Carl Cox at the age of 15. The future's bright however, the future's not bald.

I was reading earlier in the week that Keith Richards snorted his dad's ashes during a drug binge. I take it his old man's snuffed it, so to speak, or are we talking about ashes from his old boy's 40 Lambert & Butler a day habit. Difficult to tell when this old puddin' is concerned. He also happened to slag off the Arctic Monkeys, The Libertines and Bloc Party, by calling them "a load of crap", some what randomly at the same time. Later, I heard on the radio that the dad's ashes bit was a pile of keich that he'd fed the press. Fair enough, I don't mind him mucking about with the press, bunch of mugs that they are, what bugs me is that his antics ever make it onto the news. This is a man who is lionised for his excesses. This is now what he's known for. I despise the excess pedestal that celebrities can proudly sway upon. Some could say that this man is a tit. I wouldn't argue with them either. When the Rolling Stones were the same age as the 3 bands mentioned above (who I think have done some good work), they did some great stuff. I love the Rolling Stones' work up until the early seventies, but since then they've been a joke. A crappy brand that's still being flogged around the world. A corporate rock band even. The IBM of rock. Who'd want that on their grave stone. One of my teacher's let me hear their latest album. Utter mince. Even the title bugged me. "A bigger bang". Who are these rubber faced skeletons trying to kid? These guys are now old enough to use their own sagging skin as contraception, though why they bother I'll never know. "A bigger bang" maybe, but it's a foosty old blank. Mick, Keith, if you read this - put your slippers on and grow fat and old gracefully. Enjoy the success, don't keep busting your manky old pans in knocking out a pile of crap week in, week out. That's meant to be for those that haven't sorted out their pensions. You're just rubbing their noses in it. Knock yourself out with the drugs, shag your way into the OAP record books (for most hip replacements, and not the poor buggers on the receiving end), I couldn't care less, just don't tell us about it. You may ask, why did I read about it. Just to write this and set them straight. Keith supposedly fell out of a tree last year. Did this really happen or was it spin to reinforce his crazy hell raising persona? Chances are he actually fell off his Stena stairlift, 'cause he'd fallen asleep to it's slender tones as it purred it's way up the stairs at 19:30.

What do you get if you cross a bump of chicken with a gunning sausage rag?

A funny coastal, wooded lump with a temple on top,
Sado's eastern coast


We've had a relatively quiet time since Christmas, between the weather and Caroline's studying. We have managed out for the odd bit of fresh air as there has actually been a few sunny days amongst the cold ones. Click on the picture above and it will take you to some pictures of us mooching up a big lump of rock and around a light house, both on Sado's eastern coast near Maehama JHS, where I teach once a fortnight. I had a great last lesson with the really nice third grade class there recently. There's only four in the class and just one girl, whom I tryed to teach how to play the guitar now and then. I think this was requested after I did an impression of Elvis singing and playing 'House of the Rising Sun' (a beginner's favourite) on the guitar in class. I can actually do not a bad singing impression of Elvis and try to belt out a few of his numbers at karaoke - Devil in Disguise, King Creole and I tried Big Hunk of Love once but the version of the music wasn't up to scratch. I've also had a running gag about sausages in the class, which started for some reason last year, but we've managed to keep laughing at it every week since. The best was the other week when I was asking them about what music they liked and they were reeling off the Japanese pop bands - SMAP, Mr Children, Orange Range and a pile of other bollocks that I couldn't care less for (it all gets played on school radio at lunch time). There's also a band called Bump of Chicken that aren't as bad as the other J pop guff. It has to be said that the Japanese bands have some poxy names. I however, asked one of the boys if he liked Bump of Sausage, continuing my sausage theme. For some reason this resulted in the biggest sausage laugh yet. Good old sausages, funny in any language. Anyhoo, for the last lesson the students requested that I let them listen to some popular music that I like. Great idea, and a nice way to depart in English class. Music for me isn't something that I want to ram down other folks ears, it's a matter of personal taste, but they were genuinely interested to hear what I was into. I wasn't being a self indulgent plonker. I've been listening to all sorts of stuff over here. There's a chain store in Japan, a bit like HMV and Blockbuster combined where you can rent CDs on the cheap. I've been listening to some older stuff, as is my want, the best of which has probably been Neil Young, who has me burning for my guitar, and some talent, at home and in my dreams respectively. I've also been listening to the odd Blur album. They were the best band of the Brit Pop generation, hands down, in my opinion. Because of them I've also given Demon Days by the Gorillaz a good grilling. It's a few years old now but is a very different and great album from start to finish. Between this lot and other odds and sods, I've been listening to some probably very popular music. I'm not that bother where it comes from these days, just as long as it's agreeable on the sound palate. It's funny, at school I would only listen to a very certain kind of dance music though my out look on life was very open. Nowadays, I'll give anything, within reason Robbie Williams, a listen though my opinions on life are hardening faster than a teenage bump of sausage at the back of a bus. There's a directly proportional relationship in there somewhere. As mentioned previously we're going to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers next week. I've really love their last few albums dearly. We saw them play Murrayfield after they released By the Way. This concert should really have been in Glasgow, but. The latest offering is a double album and is simply excellent. There are only a couple of tracks that I'm not that fussed about but there is so much good stuff and such variety. For me it's the RHCP's white album. The Killers' latest album is a belter too. I read a review on rolling stone's website about this, which was so wrong that the reviewer can't have given it enough time to infect his rocking melody bones, dumplin'. I therefore made a CD of recent songs that I liked including; RHCPs, The Killers, Arctic Monkeys, Muse, Daft Punk, Gorillaz, Kaiser Chiefs, Razorlight, The Strokes, The White Strips and even flung on a bit of patriotic Franz Ferdinand. I've been listening to the Magic Numbers' and Muses' latest LPs, which I'm enjoying. In the pipe line is the Kaiser Chiefs new album, I've heard a couple of songs on the radio both which I enjoyed. I really liked their first album 'Employment'. We saw them perform a great show in a small venue in Osaka, last winter, and felt very privileged. The Views' album is also on it's way, along with the Kooks, who we saw just before the Artic Monkeys (both great) at Summer Sonic with Nez and Suzi in Chiba. For the last class I managed to convince the English teacher that we should go along to the music room, which is isolated out on a limb in this small new school, as it has an awesome sound system that can be cranked right up. He was right up for this and is actually a bit of a sound system buff (that's not cockney rhyming slang). I introduced each band and song and gave them a little bit of information about the band, where they are from, ages, etc., which album the song was on and previous albums. I ended up playing 'When you were young' by the Killers, I like this simple yet catchy tune. Next, one of the kids wanted the Artic Monkeys, so I played 'When the sun goes down', and didn't explain the great lyrics. I gave them a taste of an old Daft Punk tune 'Around the world' and tried to give them an idea of what dance music is about. Gorillaz nicely quirky 'Feel Good Inc.' was next. Last, I finished with 'Knights of Cydonia' by Muse, which was immense when it built into a face melter of a guitar riff blasting out of the quality Japanese sound system. Easily the most sublime lesson yet as along with the nice people, blasting music, sausage gags and facilities, the scenery surrounding the classroom is unbelievable. On one side we look out over a few terraced rice fields, the land then drops sharply over a wee cliff into the sea, beyond which we could see the mountains of the mainland faintly on the horizon. Out of the other side we can see a fantastic view of Sado that encompasses rice paddies, old Japanese dwellings, hillside forests and the largest mountain on the island, snow capped Kinpoku San, all on a sunny day.

I've had a few other good last classes lately with a couple of my third grade English elective classes, where we baked short bread. Not easy to get the kids through this in fifty minutes without making a mess, and I had to take the time to bake everything in the oven afterwards. But still good fun none the less.