js 2 other perspectives on where we lived

Finding someone's house in Japan is not so difficult, though you must first get used to the fact that very few streets have names. For example, our house was 2-11-16 Mukogaoka, the latter being a town (or suburb) within the city of Sanda. The '2' designates the district (chome) within that suburb, the '11' the island(or block) of houses to which we belonged, and the '16' was our actual house number. I'm sure that you can find our house on the 'chome' guide above.

Strangely enough, Japanese friends and students often got lost looking for our place, even when they had a car navigation system!

japanese series: Our house in Sanda.

I've decided to drop the politics and society for a while (about time-ed.) and focus on a series based upon some the pics I took last time in Sanda. Maybe they'll even have a little coherent commentary, but I can't promise that!

First things first. Here is where we lived in Sanda, a smallish town to the north of Kobe in Hyogo, Japan. We spent three years all up living and working at this address. It's the house on the left in front of the silver van with the sign on the wall. Gosh I've got some fond memories of that place!

the new mood

A little over two weeks have passed since the Howard Government met its maker, and already there is a change of mood abroad. It's as if a load has been lifted from the collective backs of all Australians, or at least thinking Australians. The Kyoto Protocol has been ratified, the 'Pacific Solution' is being dismantled and the PM is already talking of a sorry (yes, a real sorry, heartfelt and genuine, not just a legalistic regret) to the 'Stolen Generations' of Aboriginal people. I really feel like the nation is moving forward, the ridiculous culture wars of the Howard era (yes, already an era) put behind us, the hectoring moralisms of Howard and Abbott sunk into a pit of concrete, the endless genuflections to Washington, ended. I hope.

What I would like to see is a country which re-embraces its international obligations at all levels, works as an active participant to solve problems and understands that the global and the local are linked. At home I want a Government that governs competently and compassionately, not eschewing 'tough love', but reinventing it.

And please, can we have a little less talk about matters economic, and a little more about the quality of life, our shared future and even, yes, a little bit of the vision thing.

Oz Politics Unravelling

It's amazing what a single day in politics can do, especially when that day is a general election. From a seemingly impregnable position, with a strong economy and unified experienced team, the Government has fallen, the PM has lost his own seat, and the whole edifice appears to be in flames, with former high-flyers jumping from every floor.

Yes, it is with joy that I relate this amazing circumstance, for I did not like the Howard Government from first to last. I don't dislike conservative administrations per se, its just that I really disliked this one, for reasons outlined in earlier posts.

So, the annointed LP leader refuses to stand for election, the leader of the decimated National Party resigns, there is recrimination everywhere, and contenders for the (somewhat poisoned) chalice are stepping up. I think it might be a fight between Nelson and Turnbull, Abbott being too ideological and Downer too tired.

Interesting times indeed.

could it happen?

For 11 years now, I have detested the Howard Government. It's arguable that they didn't deserve to win the election in 1996 (which was essentially a referendum on Paul Keating) and that they subsequently claimed the hard won fruits of the previous administration. The bulk of economic reform had already occurred before that election.

The Howard Government has had its moments. It has run the economy for the most part with reasonable skill, nothwithstanding those times in the electoral cycle when it handed out buckets of money. I supported the Government on its guns policy (that is, making it tougher to get and own one) and there are some things that only conservative governments can get away with, such as the work for the dole scheme, which was probably worth a try.

But that doesn't excuse the dumping on indigenous people, the dumping on and subsequent incarceration of 'illegal immigrants' , the war in Iraq (Mark 2) and the very ideologically driven stances and policies that pepper its 11 year reign.

There is a good chance that a new Labor Government will be elected Saturday week, though it is not a given, in spite of the polls. The Tories are very good at winning Federal elections, as a glance at the last 100 years of political history will attest. This time they don't deserve to.

Let's rekindle the light on the hill.

sad days

Last night around 3am our good friend Arthur passed away. Arthur had been a fixture in our lives, both here in Hazelbrook and also in our choir, Crowd Around, for years now. He was a gentle, kind person who was always on hand when help was needed. He was a better man than I am.

I prayed at his bedside yesterday for God's mercy, and that shortly he might see the very face of God. That prayer has been answered and Arthur is truly in a better place than he was. We may mourn, but he has crossed that river to the Celestial City. God Bless you Arthur. You have earnt this long rest.

so long nova

News yesterday that Nova, the self-proclaimed McDonalds of English Schools in Japan, has gone into bankruptsy. I certainly won't bid a fond farewell to a company for whom staff and students were a long second to profits, whose infamous ticket system ripped off gullible clients and who, more recently, failed to pay their Japanese staff and foreign teachers.

Of course, Nadia and I did have a vested interest - our own little conversation school in Sanda-but that does not excuse the corporate greed that embodied the Nova system. I am truly sorry for the 4,000 or more foreigners who will now either have to find new work, or more likely, be forced to leave Japan. And for the decent people who signed up in good faith for English classes.

On another topic altogether, the house is only a few tantalising weeks from completion, or at least, complete enough for us to move in. Oh what a saga it has been!

And on a sad note, our choir friend Arthur, who has been fighting cancer for a couple of years now, is close to death. I know where he is going will be a brighter place for him: to see the very face of God! But we will miss him. Truly.

an 'f' in economics

Back in the days when there were two superpowers and just about everyone fitted into one camp or another, it was still possible to have a discussion about socialism. It was still possible to wonder whether there might be a better way to do things than what capitalism had to offer. One could posit the possibilities of systems other than those propounded by the Soviets or the Americans.

Come the 1990's and the fall of communism in Russia and Eastern Europe, capitalism emerged smugly triumphant, and so began the phase we might now call globalisation. Simply put, the markets should dictate where and why things are produced, what people are payed and how they are employed, irrespective of where they live on the planet. Underlining this logic, as with all capitalist endeavour, is the desire to make money, to up the profit, to safeguard the bottom line.

As pseudo-logical systems go, it seems to work rather well. Many folks in developing countries are being lifted out of poverty, developed nations have never had it so good. Governments can spend on the public good, if they desire, as a result of all this private inventiveness and hard work.

There are a few problems with this kind of reasoning. The environment is rarely factored in as a cost, so there is degradation, pollution and the potential for ecological catastrophe.

In developed countries, the gap between the rich and the poor has dramatically widened, with some governments taking a whip to the latter. Better to blame them for their own poverty, rather than the system.

And finally, isn't there something cynical and terribly wrongheaded about an economic system which is underpinned by human greed? Surely there is a better way to make a buck than at someone else's expense? Isn't the kind of consumption encouraged (actually demanded) by present day capitalism just plain bad? Not just frivilous or shallow, but wrong?

Which brings me back to socialism. Is there a new way of defining a socialist system, free from the authoritarianism of past blunders and flexible enough to let energetic people(ie. capitalists) make their own living if they want? A system that puts things back into a kind of balance.

I'm not an economist. Surely someone with the skills is thinking about it. Somewhere.

old and new

I read recently that Andrew Keen, who has written a stinging critique of the internet, is a rather unpopular man. From the little I have seen or heard of him (including an interview on an American public broadcaster) he seems like an eminently sensible and eloquent chap.

In a nutshell, Keen argues that much of what passes for information on the web is a pure waste of time. Blogs, home pages, infopedias and the like are just an unedited, chaotic and often inanely trivial mess cobbled together by amateurs. Most pertinently, there is no way of gauging quality or accuracy in the manner, for example, that the 'old media' could through editorial oversight.

He has a point. Most blogs, if not free advertising plugs, are unweeded gardens. Well-intentioned beginnings peter into nothing or become strings of personal photos. Nothing wrong with that I suppose, though probably no-one is paying attention.

Worse are the so-called unmediated 'news' sites where information is lifted from 'old media' sources, often without accreditation. Or tedious opinion pieces containing little or no factual content.

Of course, poor writing or shoddy practices were invented in the old media. But where in the past we could fairly clearly differentiate between tabloid and serious journalism and the papers and magazines from which they sprung, the internet offers no such opportunity.

Maybe these are teething problems for the most part, or symptoms of a wider malaise. If no-one controls or mediates the content, then how do you establish standards? It strikes me that this is an impossible question to answer, for people will not accept 'interference' on the web or any imposition on free speech.

So an unweeded garden it must remain.

trends

LIfe is never a smooth or constant stream. I think the closer you come to a kind of harmony, the more other things conspire (inadvertently, that is) to pull you off balance. I know that there are exceptions, though, as they say, they tend to prove the rule. It's strange that I keep finding out about people in our local community who have cancer. It feels like an epidemic though it may just be the demographic....late middle-aged folks on the whole. But its still puzzling and disturbing.

What part modern living plays in this scenario is less certain. Okay, smoking is a relatively modern practice and is now well documented as being dangerous. Exposure to chemicals from industrial and farming techniques may also be a culprit. Stress too. The pace of life. The nexus between producer and production. IT burnout. Hmmm. Who knows?

Some people manage to deal with stress and life's inevitable wobbles better than others. I am one of the others. Stress and anxiety do rather bad things to my body and my mind. I am not usually calm under sudden pressure. I have written before about having a panic disorder which has come and gone for nearly twenty years. Luckily I have a great book and some experience now at coming through each episode (which can last for months at a time) and I have never been afflicted in the way I first was.

With hindsight, a new job in a hyper-stressful occupation (teaching) and below average self-esteem made the onset of this disorder more likely. What I need to learn now is acceptance, that some things can't be changed. Memory is simply too powerful. And, to live more in the moment, rather than at some distance in the future. A day at a time, and with gratitude.

I have a lovely wife and a beautiful son.

mol triumph

Why have I posted this picture? Our sofa arrived via this Japanese merchant ship, a long journey and a tale of two towns. It's now our temporary bed(I mean the sofa, not the ship) pending the move to the new house, sometime in November, tabun. Tom has our bedroom, courtesy of Tresillian. The sofa was an extravagence to send home. It's just that we wanted a little bit of Mukogaoka, in Hazelbrook.

sticks

Tom has, apparently, picked up something of my affinity for sticks. I often catch him waving, poking or fishing with them. He likes to give them to me and sometimes we indulge in a rudimentary kind of swordplay. Boys! Always naughty little warriors!

Weekdays I take him to parks for a change of scene for the both of us. I guess all boys like puddles, creeks and ponds. Water holds a deep fascination, especially if its running. Then, if you have a trusty stick or two, you can prod and poke and even have a stick race. I must admit that leaves get less snagged as a rule, but the stick is a fine boat all the same. Certainly Tom thinks so.

spring cometh

Warmer days and still cool nights. This morning the sun had more bite than usual but the breeze was a just a touch chilly. I love that combination - the sense of warm and cool on your skin at the same time.

The plum blossoms are out and I suppose the cherry trees in Leura will flower in a month or so. We missed the sakkura last spring in Sanda by the slimmest of margins, maybe a day or two. But nature has conspired to give us another springtime in the same year. Two springs, two winters and an autumn. Summer can wait, as it usually must.

Wintry Tom

Winter has been colder than ususual, though nothing by comparison with Sanda, where I recall ice forming on the inside of windows! But last month was quite balmy and I took this shot of Tom in our backyard at #11. We won't be here much longer and he won't have all that nice grass and flat yard to gambol in.

Despite how difficult our final tour of duty was in Japan last time, my thoughts fly more and more to Sanda, to friends, students, life there. Maybe we can visit again soon. Maybe.

Of dukes and spongs

Speculation persists that Mark Viduka, the Soccerroos captain, will retire from international service soon, ostensibly to focus on the task of settling in at his new club, Newcastle United. A shame if it happens. The Duke has another World Cup in him at least and I think his leadership and experience up front could be a critical factor in the Asian playoffs. And of course, we now know, if we didn't before, that Asia is a tough competition and qualification will not be a doddle.

And whilst on the subject of religion (football = religion ??? nani?- ed.) Bishop John Spong is in town. Spong is a modernist who wants to drag the ancient church into the modern age. I rather like the erudite and charming Bishop, but I find it difficult to reconcile his membership of a Christian Church (Episopalean) with his professed beliefs, which might reasonably be summed up by the 12 thesis he posted about a decade ago on the internet. Amongst other things, the modern-day Martin Luther has argued for a new church in which, amongst other things, theism is dead (I take it to mean that there is no God), Jesus was not the product of a virgin birth, did not perform any miracles and did not rise from the dead or ascend to heaven. Nor did he die for anyone's sins, this being an entirely barbaric concept. Prayer is of no value (since no-one is listening, presumably), moral values derived from old textual sources are a nonsense,,,,I think you get my drift.

Of course, Spong is not alone in holding such views. Liberal theologians of the last century often speculated on whether there was indeed a God and so forth, but it strikes me as Pythonesque for a man to dress and act like a Bishop and yet talk so mild-manneredly and so obviously like an atheist.

Alas, I fear that you can't take the metaphysics out of religion. Once you lose the mystery, you also lose the wonder. The mystical is the most interesting part for my money. Don't throw the baby our with the bathwater, Bishop. Leave people their hope, even if you think it is grounded on the delusions of our ancestors. Because, you never know, it might not be.

matters potter

JK Rowling's last gasp with Harry Potter is now tantalisingly within reach, and millions of potterista are eagerly donning witch or warlock paraphanalia and counting down the moments to whichever midnight they are speeding.

I tend to be a little slack, reading the books some months after their release. This was never a problem at first, but now that everything is unravelling and concluding, secrets are getting out. Even that doesn't worry me so much, for I still enjoy the read. Apparently the final tome, 'HP and the Deathly Hallows', has been illicitly photographed and released onto the internet. Why anyone would want to spoil the fun of millions of children is beyond me, but I suspect an element of self-loathing resides in the perpetrator.

So what do I think will happen? Well, Rowling has already hinted at other deaths. She's not going to want to keep Voltermort alive, is she? If Harry goes down with the dark lord, then I suspect she will lose the next generation of readers. So Harry may well survive. Ron and Hermione? One or both of them will probably perish, and possibly one or two classmates, such as Neville. Possibly Hagrid too.

The question of Snape is of great interest to me. What was the real meaning of his actions at the end of the last volume (other than outright murder) and will there be a redemption? Or was he just a sleeper all along.

Time and 750 odd pages will tell. Perhaps I'lll read this one a little earlier, after all.

mister dee-ath

Lately my thoughts have turned, again, towards death. I am not maudlin or morbid by nature-quite the opposite really-its just, there seems to be a lot of it around. Death, I mean.

There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not about to shuffle off, God willing. But near to me, that's quite another thing. My mother-in-law (who is really like a beloved sister) has a lymphatic cancer that, while currently stable, will one day claim her. A friend from my choir has recently had surgery on cancer-related illnesses with a more serious op. yet to come. Whilst in Japan I learned that an old school friend's father had died. My mother has a number of chronic illnesses and is really quite frail.

I've often said that death is like a strange bird perched upon my left shoulder, usually silent, but occassionally whispering into my ear. As a teenager I fell in love with the Romantic poets who, often as not, romanticised death through an examination of the impermanence of all things. Keats was seemingly 'half in love with easeful death', an attitude that is so completely at odds with the current youth-obsessed circus that it seems impossible that a mere two hundred years separates them.

No, I've never called death 'soft names in many a mused rhyme', much as I may once have subscribed to the theory. But I do like graveyards, which, in their serene authority, vanquish the trivial and put things in context.

If I knew that we might all meet again afterwards, in another place, then the loss would be bearable. But even then, only just.

just be happy, right?

How often do I get the question, 'What's it all about? Is there any meaning in existence?' Well, never, as it turns out. Which doesn't mean that I don't speculate on the matter from time to time.

If for a moment, we can set aside the metaphysics of the question, and focus on the purely rational, material aspects, then the answers (if indeed that's what they are) are unremittingly grim. On the simplest plane, existing, with the obvious rider that one needs to obtain the fundamentals of survival, is one answer. Existence requires no philosophy. It just is. Mr Dawkins would add that getting one's genes into the next generation is another 'meaning', or objective, if you like.

Ultimately and in the fullness of time, whatever the meaning of life is or isn't is futile speculation, born of the mankind's hubris. For starters, whether we achieve a meaning or not, everything as we know it will be swallowed up in a billion years or two by our (formerly) good friend, the sun. Should we somehow migrate to other worlds and escape the solar catastrophe. the evolution of the universe (whether a slow ebbing out or an implosion) will put paid to our hopes, permanently.

Which brings us back to the metaphysical. Whether religious beliefs are true or not, maybe its better to kid ouselves and carry on in the hope than stare at oblivion.

Calling Dr Pangloss.....

ole bruise head

Yesterday we took Tom to Tresillian day stay at Nepean Hospital. In case you don't know, Tresillian specialise in helping babies and toddlers get over sleep problems. More accurately, it might be fairer to say that Tresillian helps long-suffering parents get a reasonable nights sleep again.

The process, in short, is fairly brutal. After becoming sleepy, said toddler is taken to the cot, told nitey-nite and then left for as long as it takes for sleep to occur. In between time there is a great deal of wailing and tears and protest. Interventions by adults are swift and firm, with admonitions to go to sleep before an equally swift exit. Tough love indeed.

Tom's first attempt ended ignominiously after two hours of tears and left him with a number of forehead bruises. He had clearly executed his now famous head-butt upon the unsuspecting cot rail. Alas, to no avail.

Since then, he has had a number of promising episodes in which the crying time has fallen to about 10 minutes. We live daily in hope of continued improvements.

The photo was taken well before the events outlined above, but its clear that Tom was anticipating some unhappy occurrence.

dribs n drabs

Congratulations to Beckie at Yes English School on her amazing recruitment drive. We knew that she would do well but she really has bolted from the blocks. After a couple of lean years its a relief to know that little schools still have a place in Japan.

I have taken over the night duty in an attempt to get Tom off the boob, into the cot and sleeping more consistently. Thus far I think its been a partial success. He's down to about two full-blown wakes a night but he can keep me up for two hours at a time. So you'll understand that I feel tired. Often.

The election of M. Sarkozy in France has lighted the flame of pro and anti free marketeers. Will the new President be the Mrs Thatcher of France, hacking away at public services, emasculating benefits, freeing up the labour market, cutting loose state owned dinosaurs etc etc? It seems umlikely, given the utterly different temperaments of the two peoples. That, and the tendency of French unions to strike whenever their interests are threatened. The French also have a quite different attitude towards work and the role of the state in national life. It's fine for those perfidious Anglo-Saxons to pare things back to the bone. But the Gauls? Hmmm.

I would expect a raft of moderate reforms, together with a number of spectacular backdowns in the coming months. Or maybe even a sixth republic.

so many boiling frogs

Barely a week passes now without another report, or more substantial evidence, that the earth is in the midst of global warming. The prognosis's are wide and as just about anyone should know by now, even the best case scenario is very gloomy indeed.

One might have thought that the political elites would, at the very least, be moving with public opinion. People are clearly getting worried, but we are cursed with the most talentless and mendacious coterie of political hackery in generations.

We have a Prime Minister who professes to be relaxed about global warming and ministers who variously dismiss serious scientific documents as nothing new or mere speculation. Our state government can't even put together a serious and bipartisan proposal on the water crisis.

There is a failure at the most basic level of governance. At a time when intelligent leadership is demanded, there is little more than a ghastly vacuum, or utterences that are so grimly stupid that one wonders at the vacuity.

So I guess we are all boiling frogs. Some of us know the water is getting hotter but have no means to jump out. Some don't care or want to know about the temperature. And some are in denial about it.

At least the dinosaurs were blameless. They never knew what was coming at them from the heavens.

returnings

As anticipated, the final few days in Japan were hectic and stressful in fairly equal measure. Barely a minute was available for rest and we cleaned and packed and had unexpected guests drop in right up until the moment we actually left. Apologies to Beckie...we just couldn't do anything more.

I won't talk about the long journey from Mukogaoka to Hazelbrook, except to say that it just confirms my view of modern travel.

Now five days later we are better rested than before but the house is in confusion from the suitcases and impending boxes. The imac arrived safely. Yesterday we even had the time to buy a new (used) car. A 2002 Mazda Premacy. Pretty much our first choice, though Nadia insisted on an automatic.

The evenings are dark and there is a scent of winter in the air. Still somewhat distant, but looming.

Sayonara

Just a quickie before the last minute mad rush to the airport on Saturday. The imac has gone, the sofa has gone and so too have many boxes, with yet more to process.

We are dog tired from cleaning and packing and being parents and saying goodbye. The job of organising the house for the new teacher is still only 70% done. Where will we find the time to finish?

But we are looking forward to settling down at last in the Blue Mountains after years of to-ing and fro-ing between Japan and Australia. Its been a great experience and a privilege to have had such good opportunities. We have been very lucky indeed.

I think that all of this will make more sense, and perhaps I will write more coherently, even creatively, when the dust of travelling settles and we are ourselves again.

Goodbye Japan and thanks for all the inari.

packing

Well, we are nearing the end of our sojourn in Japan. The whole family have now had the flu and we are in various stages of recovery. Packing is continuing, albeit slowly and somewhat haphazardly. Boxes are wending their way homeward with more to come. There is still a lot to do and we are trying not to think about it too much.

This has been a very difficult 12 months. I wouldn't recommend to anyone bringing a new baby to a foreign country, even one as advanced as Japan. The loss of family and friends at such a critical time is too much of a blow to bear, really. In many ways we have been like prisoners in our own house, too tired to travel on weekends. Or its been just too difficult to get organised to go anywhere.

So my fondest memories are probably reserved for our first trips here, the times spent wizzing from city to city by train, the temple and museum visits, the trudging home late from a full day outing. Even just dropping in to a pub. Oh, my misspent very late youth!

happy birthday tom!

Tom is one today. Right now he is having a nap while I dash out these words, though he customarily wakes in the middle of a sentence. There is no escaping this tyranny. And this joy.

Time seems at a standstill as we try, vainly, to get our things together. There are empty boxes and part-full boxes, flat boxes and parts of boxes. Getting them in a complete state to the post office is the hard part. We just don't see to have the time to make it.

The Australian PM is in Japan at the moment. I have tried hard to avoid this man but he seems bent on thwarting me.

So Happy First Birthday Tom! The photo above was not taken today, but a week or so ago in Sasayama. Country Japan.

chain gang

It's difficult not to be sceptical about the visit of Dick Cheney to Australia. His musings on China, Iran and the Middle East are suspect, to say the least. Cheney is really the brains behind the Bush administration and a key architect of the disasterous war in Iraq. The unelected Rumsfeld has gone and has now received a dumping from John McCain.

Cheney, however, has been able to hide behind his bumbling and cliche ridden boss. Bush has undoubtedly taken some of the flack that should reasonably have be sheeted home to Cheney.

Naturally Australia, like the vassal state we so often seem to be, laid out the red carpet, closed the streets to traffic, and generally brown-nosed the so often mistaken VP. When will we grow up? An alliance is one thing. Sycophancy is quite another.

celebrity

I don't understand it and I don't crave it. I really have no notion of what its about or even why it exists. But evidently it drives a whole industry of magazines and media.

I notice that even my favourite online paper, the Sydney Morning Herald, regularly features pieces about talentless yet, um, famous, c's. Their names wont be featured here. Why add to their glory?

Time is fast flying and we still have a lot of packing and 'closure' before leaving. In fact, there's only four weeks of teaching and then a week or so of hols. It's fantastic that the school will continue though I doubt that we will get to hear much about how things go after Becki takes charge.

Soft Landing?

My last post mused on how things might go for Yes School in the next two months. The answer came last week when a young American called Becki and a Japanese friend bought the school. Not only that but we seem to have had an influx of trial students - by my reckonning, about 10 in the last week. It's nice to be so popular again though it's come a little late for us. But more power to the new owners. We really hope that they do well.

So there is a little less for us to do over the next two months- plenty of teaching still and a lot of packing and sending. But we are happy for the continuity.

A few days ago I cracked a rib as a result of tripping over a large concrete seat in the middle of the pathway near the new Aeon. A shocking place for it but I should have been watching where I was going, not musing at the view. As a tribute, I leave the above photo. The injury occurred on the right of the concrete bridge. And boy does it hurt!

Time, Winter, Tom.

Since Christmas, time seems to having been racing by. In a week it will be February (stop stating the bleedin' obvious -ed.) and we will be starting to wind things up here. Presently we don't know just how the story will end. Will the school sell to a happy buyer and go on for another twenty years, or will we close it down? I sincerely hope for the former. We won't see a brass razoo, but both of us hope that something we believe in can continue and that our relationship with Japan can remain strong. After all, its been our second home for a long time now.

Tom is moving through the hai hai phase and is walking with the support of whatever object his hands can grasp. Sometimes these objects lack purchase or grounding and so he discovers, to his discomforture, that gravity is a central force in his life. I can't count the number of times his head has impacted the floor. But he always bounces back.

He has also taken a liking to the keyboard as the picture above attests.

Worst pop music ever

Sometimes I tune into my local community radio Honey FM for the short duration of its tiny footprint, though I am never sure why. Morning programming is particularly anodyne, either, a selection of American Country from the 1970's, or, pop hits of the same era. Thinking about the latter ( a mismash of bubblegum tosh that I really had forgotten existed) set me to wondering about a SMH blog I read the other day,,,,,,,the worst ever pop songs.

I had meant to respond to the blog but found myself wondering whether the songs listed could ever represent anything other than a personal viewpoint. Surely there must be a list of the top 20 worst songs we could all agree on? Doesn't everyone groan at the mention of....(Insert your most hated song in this space)? But here is where memory plays a trick. Even while I agreed, for the most part, with the bloggers opinion, listening to Honey FM's ghastly selection demonstrated that there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of forgotten pop tragedies. Most of them are of equal awfulness. Any ranking would be purely subjective.

Was it Elton John who said that pop music is really a disposable commodity, like so much else? We can love songs for a little while and then forget them , like spring flowers. Perhaps all that matters is how we felt at the time we liked them, in that short space between familiarity and contempt.

Moider most foul.

On the whole, I feel very safe in Japan. It's an orderly place and people exert a high level of self-control, certainly more than in Australia. I haven't checked the crime figures, but I would guess that the murder rate per head of population is higher in Oz too.

But when it come to brutal or bizarre murders, often amongst family members, Japan takes the cake. Rarely a day passes when another out of the ordinary killing is reported. Most recently, a young man murdered and chopped into pieces his sister, allegedly because she told him that he wouldn't amount to anything. It's now pretty routine for news items about fathers killing sons or daughters, sons killing their fathers, mothers dropping infants from high rise apartments and so on.

I've asked Japanese friends and students just what is going on. Is there something the matter in modern Japanese society? I have a few pet theories that I wont discuss here. Suffice it it say that many people seem to think that something is rotten at a fundamental level. Too much pressure...few mental health services.

I do feel safe here but I wonder, for example, about the man next door, who dislikes foreigners and who one evening banged angrily on his bedroom window when our baby was crying. Yes really, a potential lunatic, in my opinion.

Happy New Year!

The world is a sorry place. Bomb blasts, wars, cruelty and ignorance abound. Things appear to be getting worse in absolute denial of any notion of progress. There is surely, no perfection for the human species. Who would place odds on another 500 years of earthly domination?

Still, there is a light, small, distant and hard to distinguish through the noise of infamy and folly, which is compelling and necessary.

So Happy New Year from this tired family. And a moment of levity.....