Ron Paul on Tonight Show video clip

Here is the video clip of Ron Paul on the Tonight Show, Oct 30th. I had a bit of trouble finding it on youtube, though it is sure to rise rapidly.

It is good to see Dr. P becoming a much more polished speaker, without losing that edge. In regular Tonight Show style, Dr. P got a series of soft ball questions, and thanks to the meet up groups the audience was definitely Ron Paul friendly. But an appearance like this will go a long way in counteracting the usual mudslingers that try to paint Dr. P as an eccentric freak.

Ill be interested if there is any change in his fundraising, which seems to be in a kind of an end of the month slump. You can find a variety of Dr. Paul related graphs here.

I am looking on youtube if there is any footage of the crowd outside the studio. If any of you can find it, let me know.

Learning to pee.

I am not piss-shy.

Honest.

Some guys are, but not me. What I mean by this is that a few guys get all choked up at the urinal. It can be a disconcerting experience standing at a urinal, shoulder to shoulder with a pair of perfect strangers, a crowd of men standing behind you… staring… waiting…. staring…

Well, anyway it never bothered me. It wasn’t something I enjoyed, but it never “stopped the means of production” if you get my drift.

Well, ok. I thought I was not piss-shy until I came to Japan.

You see, when I first came to Japan I started working in elementary schools. Unlike my elementary school of long ago, there are no “teachers bathrooms.” In the schools I worked at, the bathrooms were shared by students and teachers. The bathroom itself is barely divided between boys and girls. I mean, when the school was built, unisex public baths were still common, so why bother to build separate boys and girls sections, right? So on one side of the room is a row of urinals, with a squat toilet at the end. On the other side of the room is a series of stalls for the girls. Since they were built, most but not all of the schools added some sort of divider between the two sides. Of course, unlike American toilets the doors on Japanese stalls go all the way to the floor. (When you are using a squat toilet, those eight inches make all the difference.) There is also no door- the girls have their stalls but the boys side is open for anyone who cares to look, and opposite the entrance, on the far side of the room, a large window is kept open for ventilation.

Mostly, it was no problem, but I found myself avoiding one particular bathroom at one particular school. It was located right next to the office, so teachers and office ladies constantly passed by, who of course, did what everyone does when they pass by a window or open door, and peek in. The window in the bathroom opened onto a small street that had a fair bit of foot traffic. The window in the hallway opposite of the bathroom overlooked the playground. The divider between sections was just a piece of canvas.

So I admit it, when there were a pack of giggling eight year old girls two feet away from me, I got a little trigger-shy.

Eventually, there came a time, however, when its use became unavoidable.

Of course, this was the exact same time that four female teachers began talking right in-front of the urinal half of the bathroom, while children ran by screaming and laughing. But the tank was full and the baby was on the way so what could I do? I angled away as best I could, looked out the window and relaxed, and started to take care of the business.

At which point a woman in her late eighties came tottering by on the street outside. She paused outside of the window, leaning heavily on her walker for rest. Shakily, she turned her head and peered in the window at me. Now given her age, and the fact that public urination is quite legal in Japan, I am sure she wasn’t seeing anything she had not seen before. However, it was quite likely her first time watching a gai-jin, a foreigner changing the oil. But at this time, the flood-gates had been loosed, and I stood there, watching her watching me. If I turned away, I would be exposing myself to my co-workers, and every guy knows that you just cant stop up the waterworks. So she stood there watching for the next fifteen seconds or so, and when I was done I put myself back together, and gave her a little wave, and went about my day.

The secret origins of emo scene kids revealed!

When I first came to Japan, I was surprised at how…. well… feminine alot of Japanese guys were. Then, and still now, the fasion for men was super tight clothes and women’s haircuts. Then men, being raised in the local culture, of course where much more reserved and less outgoing then the average Western male.

I would snicker at the more extremely feminine and flamboyant individuals, (Though Western notions of masculinity do not necessarily apply here in Japan.) confident that no American male would ever do such a thing.

How wrong I was.

Recently, I have been researching American pop-culture in preparation for returning to the U.S. By which of course, I mean I have alot of free time currently, as I am basically unemployed. While doing this research I have stumbled across a fairly new phenomena in the states: The emo kid. After fifteen whole minutes of watching videos on youtube, I feel I can safely say I am an expert on the subject, and like Dan Brown, I have discovered a new, alternate history to the Emo Kid Scene. First the facts-

• Get their hairstyles from cartoons intended for Japanese children.
• Guys who make out with other guys thinking that this will get them girls, and dont find this counter-productive.
• Being able to rattle off a dozen band names that no one has ever heard of = cruise control for cool.
• Able to pretend their life as middle-class teenagers is one of hardship and suffering, and yet manage to keep a straight face.
• Dye their hair jet black with what appears to be magic marker ink.
• Allow mothers who have only sons to join in with other women who complain about their children stealing their make-up.
• Wear incredibly tight pants and messenger bags which look suspiciously like purses.
• High heeled boots? Masculine fashion accessory!
• Believe that vomiting random, melodramatic words onto paper with no rhyming scheme, meter or even coherent meaning can be called “writing poetry.”
• Manage to make Goths look tough-

So, cross referencing this information with an exhaustive study of Japanese culture, as well as the fact that when you cross an emo kid and crabgrass you get a lawn that cuts itself, I finally determined the secret origin of the Emo scene kid to be this-

Ok the vid has little to do with emo kids but it is still damn funny.

Say it aint so, Dr. Paul!

So, as an avid Ron Paul fan, after returning from Europe I eagerly awaited the unveiling of his first TV spot. You can watch it  here.  Take a look- it is only 30 seconds long.  Go ahead, Ill wait.

My question is, why Dr. Paul? WHY did you approve of that message?

Wow.  I mean wow.  I can hardly imagine a worse TV spot.  (Well I can, I just cannot imagine a worse one actually being aired.) It has the production value of an after school special from the early eighties.  Now I know a lot of Dr. Paul supporters want something that mirrors their kind of passion, where the campaign wants to start attracting mom and pop I-don’t-like-to-think-too-much-about-politics-types.  But still, starting a commercial with “Well, I don’t always agree with Ron Paul…” that is not the way to grab peoples attention.  They then follow that up with a guy who says “Actually, I agree with him most of the time.  I really do.”  Well if that doesn’t inspire confidence and passion, I don’t know what will.  Also the way he says it is more like “Actually….(wait, wait, I need to re-read the cue card…) I agree with him…”  I know the actor was just reading the lines he was given, and I know he probably has a family that loves him.  Still doesn’t change the fact that the way he delivers that line makes me want to punch him in the uvula.

The whole thing reminds me of the movie “The American President” where the Presidents re-election slogan is “Dont change horses mid-stream.”  Dr. P`s commercial also sounds wishy-washy and weak and it is not a good choice for someone who attracts support because of his honesty, passion, and enthusiasm.

To give Dr. P`s campaign a break, they do have an incredibly difficult task.  The Dr. Paul message is not an easy one to grasp, as people have been trained for so long that the government is responsible for their lives.  (wait… wait… you mean the solution to everything isn’t passing more laws?) 

They also have to explain that Dr. Paul`s positions are not just pie-in-the-sky daydreams.  While at the same time re-assuring people that Dr. Paul will not take away the entitlements they have already earned.   The fact is, old people vote.  They also tend to be registered Republican, and vote with much more frequency in the primaries.  Obviously if they have the slightest fear that Paul would stop their social security checks, they aren’t going to vote for him. (Not that I blame them, after paying into the system my whole life and being heavily reliant on those checks to survive, I would be a mite protective too.)

And don’t think for a second that the main-stream media hasn’t picked up on this.  Almost every news clip I have watched on youtube about Ron Paul begins with  “Dr. Paul, who wants to end social security….”  Even though he has said repeatedly that he would not strip entitlements from people who depend on them. 

If I were to write a Ron Paul commercial it would involve him slaying Romney and Clinton lookalikes with a samurai sword, then writing the pre-amble to the Constitution on the wall in their blood.  I don’t think it would play well in Peoria though.

On eating bird spit.

I ate bird vomit.

Went to a wedding yesterday, specifically one of C`s best friend`s wedding. It was a very Japanese affair. The ceremony itself was held in the chapel of a luxury hotel, presided by a “minister” who was probably a moonlighting English conversatin teacher. (And who also sounded suspiciously like Kermit the Frog.) The ceremony itself was all of twenty minutes long. This last Saturday was a good luck day to get married. (based on Chinese numerology, I believe.) so the hotel of course, was booked solid, and I would not be surprised if they cranked out fifteen weddings that day.

A quick note on Japanese weddings.

Japanese weddings usually have three consecutive receptions. The first one is very formal, with several speeches, toasts, formal dinner, etc. for family and business associates. The next reception is for friends and involves lots of drinking, karaoke, and silly games for cheap to expensive prizes. The last one generally involves binge drinking at a restaurant or bar. The ceremony itself is usually in a Vegas-like wedding chapel, and may or may not involve a more traditional Shinto ceremony.

Not being terribly interested in playing bingo for an hour to win a hello kitty note pad, I only attended the first reception. Little did I know this would later prove to be an unwise decision. This is where the bird vomit comes in.

The formal reception has, of course, a formal dinner. This particular dinner had a course of birds nest soup. Bird nest soup is made from the nests of a cave swallow that lives in islands in south east Asia. The bird constructs the nest out of its own saliva and vomit. It only looks slightly more appetizing then it sounds. It is supposed to be a rare delicacy, but to me it tasted alot like runny eggs. Most people finished their soup and the guests I talked to had no idea as to the origin of their food, and for the sake of politeness, I did not disabuse them. (Though I did have the urge to scream “Soylent Green is made of bird spit…..BIRD SPIT!)

Too bad for me, I have been to a cave where these swallows nest, and I have seen them under construction. The image of a bird vomiting up my soup did not help my appetite much for that particular course. The rest of the meal was very good, the steak course looked like it had been cooked by being briefly passed over a zippo lighter. Which is, of course, just how I like it.

Of course, yesterday the bride and groom didn’t get a chance to see the first reception as the bride spent most of the timing changing her clothes and getting her hair and makeup redone. (Entering in a tux/wedding dress then changing to a pair of formal kimonos and then changing to a different tux/evening gown)

After the reception, I excuse myself and wait for C to finish at the second party by reading an entire book at a book store.

When I go to pick up C and friends the first thing she says is “Don’t be angry but….” and proceeds to tell me how she went to the party, and won a complete home theatre system. Since we are changing continents in the near future she decided to give the prize to the bride and groom.

a complete home theatre system.

No joke.

It really isn’t something we could bring with us size-wise (yeah, it was that nice) but it is still… frustrating? I am still expecting some major karmic reward for this, though. Yes I know I had nothing to do with the decision to give it away, but C and I are married so I can horn in on the credit.

A pox on your intertubes!

Spent a long time today putting together a long post with pictures and comments plus a slide show, but for some reason I borked all of the pictures while uploading them. So instead here is a link to a buddy of mine from Australia`s blog. He and his better half had an epic four and a half month journey around Europe.

The post card C and I sent her dad from the Vatican finally arrived here today. God does move in mysterious ways, and when it comes to mail, apparently he takes his sweet time.

Still haven’t received word about my sister fleeing from the San Diego area due to the fires, and canceled classes. But while I have been searching for information on the fire, I have come to one conclusion- The Gen Xers had it right. Don’t believe in any thing, it only causes trouble.

On the one hand you have religious nutters claiming that the fires are the wrath of God in response to some recent legislation. Right. The fundamentalist Christian God (or the Islamic one, neither one them seem to be the sunshine and puppy dogs sort of Deity) comes down from on high to start a fire in a very wealthy, conservative neighborhood while leaving the very flamboyant West Hollywood untouched. Apparently God has terrible aim. (perhaps he has bad eyesight, that would explain the postcard from the Vatican.)

On the other hand you have the environmentalist nutters claiming that the fire is a result of global warming. Obviously the Santa Ana winds only started with global warming, California has never had a drought, and there has never been a major fire before global warming. (The fire of London was probably another cover-up initiated by George W. Bush.)

Here is my theory- the San Diego fire was due to the fact I had a record low number of page views on that day. Had more people been reading my blog, there would be 2,000 families that would not be homeless right now.

Hey, it makes as much sense as the previous two theories.

Then of course are the real jerks who just say “serves em right for living there, they should have moved a long time ago.” My question is where? Tornado alley? The Hurricane Coast? The blizzard covered north east? How about up by earthquake country near San Fran? The Mississippi flood plain? The volcanoes of the north west? Is there anyplace in the U.S. that is not prone to at least one kind of natural disaster?

How about people learn that crappy stuff happens from time to time, and you can either A: Have a heart and do something about it or B: be like me and write sarcastic comments about it on your blog.

A Tribute To: Dragonforce

While C and I are sorting through the nearly 3,000 pictures we took (I am a terrible photographer so I usually take 3-5 shots to get one decent picture.) I thought I would put up a short post on why the metal band Dragonforce just might be the best band since KC and the Sunshine Band.

• Two Words- hair metal.
• Their name is Dragonforce, which as any physicist will tell you, is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. The only force which may come close is the Double-Dog Dare.*
• The lead singer sings in a manly counter-tenor. No sissy falsetto for him!
• At six members they have 1/17th as many members as the Wu-Tang Clan. (which ain`t nothin to #$%& with!)
• Band membership is more international then a Unicef committee.
• They are single-handedly bringing back the Keytaur, a tragic victim of the `80s.
• Super-nintendo inspired melodies and sound effects? check and double check!
• Their songs are between 5 and 7 minutes usually. Radioplayability be damned!
• If you listen carefully, you can actually hear the guitarist`s fingers break the sound barrier.
• The drummer is intent on committing suicide by self-inflicted heart-attack while playing the double-bass.
• The lead singer`s hair reminds one of Weird Al, seven time winner of the sexiest man in the universe competition.
• Their hit songs are more samey then Willy Nelson`s. (It is ironic that people point this out as a negative. Especially since usually the ones that do so don’t like Dragonforce because they dont sound just like Slipknot or Cannibal Corpse. In reality, people like having the same stuff again and again. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t have a Mcdonalds on every street corner and you would have to go to Seattle to find Starbucks. But I am pontificating again.)
• And best of all- it pisses of legions of metal-geeks who scream “Its not real heavy metal!” to which I say, just about anything that pisses other people off makes me happy.

Sorry, I have to stop myself before I get started on “underground” music. I do not need the blood-pressure spike. I am trying to relax to even out my sleep cycle again. As an insomniac who normally sleeps about six hours a day, my sleep schedule is easily disrupted. I was up for 40 ish hours coming back from Europe, then I slept for 14, then I was up for 12, slept for 2, then up for 18 hours, then slept for 10.

On the plus side, however, insomnia gives me plenty of time to work on my plans for world conquest.

*While doing research for this article, I pressed a ph.d candidate in physics as to which force is actually stronger, the Dragonforce or the Double Dog Dare. He replied that as far as science is concerned, that is a question best left up to the gods and philosophers, being beyond the ken of mortal men.

home sweet home?

Near as C and I can figure, hotel door to home door, it was roughly a 32 hour trip. It would have been slightly shorter, except, as a politician would say, “Mistakes were made.” I wish we could have flown into kansai intl. but the tickets were more then double then the cost of flying in/out of Narita.

It feels a bit strange being back in Japan. Though we were not gone for all that long it definitely feels like it was a long time ago. Best part was getting a huge, nice meal after finally getting back to the Kansai area. The worst part about the trip was that this British Air flight didn’t have movies on demand like we did on the flight out,(it had several channels on a 2.5 hour loop) and we had already watched half of them on the way too Europe. I like a lot of movies when I fly to keep from dwelling too long on the fact that I am trapped in a thin aluminum tube with 400 strangers with nothing around us but blue, blue sky and if something did go wrong we would likely asphyxiate long before hitting the ground…..

One thing that I think is new is that they are training drug dogs at the Narita airport. While we were waiting for our luggage (our bags are ALWAYS the last to come out, when they arent taken by another passenger accidentally) they were running dogs around the baggage claim area one at a time looking for a placed suitcase. I am guessing the bag had actual drugs inside as it had about four customs officers staring at it constantly. The first handler that ran the exercise was a TINY Japanese woman, she could not have been five feet tall, and probably weighed less then the golden retriever she was leading. The vest she was wearing went almost to her knees. After the dog found the target bag (which had been placed next to me of course) and got its reward play, it was still so excited it was bunny-hopping in place. After a few hops the handler joined in and the two of them bunny hopped together all the way out of the baggage claim.

I just had to laugh out loud while standing next to the carousel at the thought of all the would be smugglers getting twenty years in prison from this bunny-hopping duo.

We came back home to find my sister is trapped in San Diego. She is a student there and reports that the dorm residents (one of whom, she is not) were virtually trapped in their rooms for three days. I predict that in 9 months time there will be a spike of drop outs in SD area schools due to pregnancies. (I mean they are university students, I doubt their supplies of pot lasted more then 12 hours, and after that what are they gonna do? study?)

I also advised her that if cannibalism sets in, vegans would probably be better tasting then habitual meat eaters. However, bumping off meat eaters first would probably also eliminate the competition, so she would have to solve that conundrum on her own.

I will be putting up more pictures as soon as I can. In addition to getting ready to relocate to the states (assuming there is anything left after this fire) C and I are planning another trip to Europe in December.

A farewell to ar… err, Athens

  I have to Leonardo Da Vinci off the hook for his design for the Vatican’s Swiss Guard uniforms.  The honor guards here in Greece are much, much worse.  Now, military pomp and circumstance always gets a bit silly, but at least it falls on the martial side of silly. 

 The honor guards here in Greece wears skirts.(these are men, mind you)  Not just any skirts, but mini-skirts.  They also wear white tights and blouses.  They have a tasseled garter on each leg.  Mary Poppin-like leather shoes with giant poof-balls.  All topped off by a red fez with a long tassel.  Its come a long way since the Spartan hoplite.  Sure, they may have fought with their dingleberries hanging out, but no one questions your manly-man-ness when you bathe regularly in the blood of your enemies.

Far be it from me to laugh at a man serving his country in uniform.  I will however, snicker.  Alot.

So C and I are getting ready to head back to Japan.  This trip has the weird feeling of being both long, and short.  I think we will both be happy to be able to put the constant search for new hotels, new tourist attractions and new train stations behind us.

It has been a while since I have felt this helpless while traveling.  Even with my non existent French/Spanish/Italian I was usually able to guess and decipher enough to muddle along.  Here in Greece, there is the double whammy of using a different Alphabet then English (obviously) but, when they do write in a Latin alphabet, it doesn’t match what is written in our guidebooks, so we get to spend alot of time trying to play match up with the street signs and our maps. 

One thing that is a bit disturbing about Athens is that police travel in groups of four.  Now to me that means that the city is too dangerous for the police to travel in pairs or singly.  The only thing I find reassuring is that the cops seem to lounge in their trucks or on their bikes and listen to loud music while chatting.  Something I don’t think they would be doing if they were afraid of drive-bys.

The Acropolis and environs, are of course, undergoing reconstruction.  They have decided to take all the marble bits and pieces around the ruins and try to reconstruct a more complete ruin, using newly cut marble to fill in the missing bits.   I am kind of glad in a way, it would be a shame to get pictures of scaffolding in every country but miss out on Greece.  You can actually still see lot, just  there are two large cranes, one in the process of reconstructing the Parthenon, the other is moving the art from the Acropolis museum to a new location.

Since we had a bit of time here in Athens, we saw what we wanted to see and took the opportunity to rest up for our trip home.

Unfortunately the only way for us to get home in one go without an overnight layover in another city is thus-

Get to the metro at 530 a.m.  Catch the first plane by 800 a.m.  Then we fly up to London, where we have a two hour lay over.  From there we hop a flight back to Tokyo.  Then a quick four hour shinkansen (bullet train) ride to Osaka.  Then we take a local train down south, then a quick hour and a half ride back home.  It will be a whole barrel full of laughs.  

Tripping over the Pope. I do a good deed.

So we DIDN’T go to see St. Peter’s today.

Well, kinda.

The basilica was the last item on our list of things to see here in Rome.  We headed out there at a leisurely pace towards the Vatican.  When we got there, the crowds were incredible.  My first thought was ‘well, that means we won’t see the inside of the Basilica’.  I was right, but not in the way I had expected.  I soon was able to see that the 50,000 people or so hanging around St. Peter’s Square weren’t in line to enter the church.  (I wonder why they call it a square when it is most definitely round.)  I found someone who looked like they could speak English and I asked them what the heck is going on.  There were no forms of public torture so it couldn’t be a Communist rally.  The mosh pit really stank (though I tried to start one.) so it wasn’t a heavy metal concert.

Turns out the Pope was making a public address today.  The man himself rode in and around the crowd in a white jeep.  (Sans bullet proof glass, I guess he feels a more bullet proof then the last Pope.)  And I got a pretty good look.  Here is where my good deed comes in.

A little old English lady was behind me, and she desperately wanted to see the Pope.  Once i realized what was going on I elbowed and shoved my way in the crowd to give her my spot.  I was interested in seeing the Pope, but only means as much to me as seeing any other celebrity.  This woman was so happy to be able to see the Pope, that is what really made my day today.  “I saw him, I saw him, I can say that I’ve seen him! Thank you, thank you.”

Two good deeds in one lunar month, I am getting soft.