As my last post for the year, I want to reference the past. Specifically, to a photo I found in an essay at the Japan Times, which talked about the many and varied ruins (haikyo) of Japan. Amongst the abandoned theme parks, industrial sites, temples, museums and follies, there are plain old family homes that are empty, abandoned. There are more and more of these as Japanese society ages and the countryside depopulates.

One photo in particular caught my attention, an empty room from a house that has been left, intact, just so, with all its belongings, at a time unknown. When I look at this photo I feel like an intruder, for it is as if the owners just got up one day, walked out and never returned. A low table in the foreground has books, a coffee mug, a bowl, a bedside clock reading 2.30. Stopped or not, I do not know. The wall clock, I notice, shows a different time. In a sense there is no time, in another, a blur of past and present and the near future.

Around the walls of this traditional, tatami-floored space are photos of family members, an ancient TV, knick-knacks and a cabinet full of porcelain. A floor fan sits squarely in the middle of the room, still plugged-in. Was it summer when the last occupant left? I squint to see more detail from the wall calendar, but alas, I cannot make it out. I am still the intruder, remaining in this moment of a life that has not changed within, though the people who lived here have gone, suddenly and perhaps, unexpectedly.



some things are haunting,
the spirits of this once-peopled place-
slowly, sipping tea.

If there is a time for reflection upon the nature of things, surely the unfolding of one year into another is one such moment, and we should grasp, tightly.

Happy New Year

Radio drama was once a staple in many lounge rooms in the pre-TV era. Whole families crowded around the wireless for the latest installment of their favourite series or show. Their popularity was extraordinary, but the advent of the cathode-ray tube sent them into decline. There was just no competing with such a new visually-powerful medium.

But podcasting has rescued and revived the form and I have only just found out, of course. You will know that I am an avid listener to podcasts, but an overdose of American-politics slanted offerings consumed in the lead-up to the US Presidential election last month has left me jaded. I needed a break.

Enter LifeAfter by Panoply. I won't say anymore. You should listen for yourself.

In recent days Ann has has a sore back and thankfully, her hotel did not need workers from her agency during the same period. So we spent more time together, a precious commodity for both of us.

This gave us the opportunity for some modest gadding about. We lunched at the inexpensive Japanese cafe Hana in Leura, rode bikes down to Lake Woodford and visited the Thai temple in Annandale. We went to the small but friendly Mid-Mountains Festival (where Tom was appearing in a flashmob dance routine) and did Christmas shopping in the City and back here in the Mountains.

Now she is back at work and alas, I have only a few photo memories to remind me of this happy time.

As shamelessly noted many times before, Daiso is one of my favourite shops. This is not least because it puts me in mind of the $2 shops in Japan, but also because we used to shop at Daiso whilst living there. These days I have a full set of crockery that I bought bit by bit over about three years, which just happens to be the same pattern. I love Japanese porcelain, even the bottom-end stuff.

Just recently I have taken a shine to a small solar-powered bobbling toy that comes in many varieties, including a sumo wrestler. Here is my collection thus far. Also pictured is the actual Daiso we once frequented, located near Kawayoke on the 176.

The Moo Choir season finished yesterday with a Christmas gig for Meals On Wheels clients at Lawson. It was not exactly a Christmas set, though we did finish with three traditional carols. This has been a big year for the choir and I think that the standard of singing has continued to improve, a process which has been helped by having to do some high-octane shows at Blackheath and Canberra. There is nothing like a big concert in front of a paying audience to sharpen the attention and focus the voice.

The photo below was taken yesterday after our performance and shows a truncated Moo Choir (not all could attend on a weekday) and the inimitable Tom Bridges, helping us out in the basses.

An article I read at the BBC today discussed the more difficult role of native speakers of English in a world of expanding non-native speakers, particularly in the workplace. It found that native speakers, when communicating with non-native speakers, need to speak more slowly, avoid slang and idiomatic expressions and also expand their contractions. In the latter case (obviously), it's becomes it is, don't becomes do not and so forth.

Well, good to get that learnt! I look forward to more in the vein of, Studies Show That Water Quenches Thirst, and similar space-fillers.

As one of the myriad parts of the process of applying for a Permanent Residency Visa to live in Australia, Ann has to complete a police check in both her home country, Thailand, and here in Australia. She applied for and received her AFP check in almost record time, the document arriving today. Not so myself, for being a citizen of a country obviously puts you at a disadvantage by virtue of the fact that your residency clearly gives you the time and means to commit crimes. But today I received an email saying that I was clear and would likewise receive a certificate in the mail shortly.

Success at these kind of clearances (I have twice passed the NSW Police Crimcheck) nevertheless gives me the heebeejeebees. Past injustices at the hands of authorities have made me suspicious of law enforcement in general and the manner in which they collect and store information in particular. Citizens are right to be vigilant against the intrusions of the State, lawful though it might be. Liberty should not be taken for granted nor is its continuance a given. The kind of freedoms we enjoy today are likely to be a high watermark of sorts; history suggests that authoritarianism can re-emerge as easily as it was vanquished, and the notion that liberal democracy is the end-point is just another kind of utopianism. Actually, it's just plain silly.

Meanwhile, on an entirely different topic, here is a picture from Greg's wedding in Springwood in September. It's hot off the cold press, as they say. Ann and I are both in it, though not together, if you can spot us.

Hazelbrook, like many towns, has developed over the past 120 years, though the changes have often been small and incremental. Occasionally large projects come along which substantially alter the appearance of significant swathes of the village, such as the highway widening and the railway pedestrian bridge. These are invariably controversial with some older residents, though matters do tend to settle down. Many people don't like change or feel threatened by it, which is perfectly understandable.

I came across this photo of the newly-minted Hazelbrook shops the other day, whose development lead eventually to the complete relocation of shops from the southern side. I would place it at around 1966, judging by the HD or HR Holden in the foreground. Curiously the photo appears to have been taken from the embankment of the railway line or on the line itself, and the people in the photo are clearly aware that it's being snapped.

2016 on Tatami Twist has been rather prolific, though previous years have set a fairly low bar. So perhaps it is better to say that the year has been one of moderate penmanship. I don't cover much of a range of subjects, for my purvey largely rests on cultural, historical and political issues, with the odd haiku thrown in.

I suppose that this gives the impression that the people around me matter less, but this is certainly not the case. I don't want to labor the point with family and personal relationships in what is, after all, a public space. That kind of thing is done to death elsewhere, notably on Facebook. I won't pretend that other people, outside of a very small subset, are at all interested in my son Tom or my love for Ann. I think it is rather sad that anyone thinks that the minutiae of their lives is worthy of a public airing, and usually, over and over again.

I guess that my productivity at TT is the outworking of a rather happy year. I am happily married, not in debt and healthy. Tom seems to be doing fairly well. Yes, I really need more work but I know that will come if I really want it.

Meanwhile, here is doge.

The popular vote in the US has now passed the 2 million mark in favour of the vanquished Hillary Clinton but it counts for nothing, for the Electoral College is the critical and only factor in choosing a President. That such a plurality exists for the loser in the contest is curious to say the least and raises the issue of legitimacy for the new regime. If it does not bother the President-Elect (and surely it does, given his ludicrous tweets) then it may sit at the back of voters' minds.

I have spoken of Trump as being more approximate to a medieval Pope than a modern President and I suspect that this will play out in various ways over the next four years. The allusion extends to the notion of a monarch in general, with courtiers and layers of yes-people waiting on the new King, with all the intrigues and shifting for influence that that entails. Traditionally courts have been hotbeds of favour and disfavour and the jostling for the ear of the King will be interesting, and the outcomes, hugely important.

Meanwhile, here is a great article from Slate's Will Saletan on how to manipulate Trump once he is President for the purposes of ameliorating the potential worst excesses.


http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2016/11/how_to_manipulate_donald_trump.html

My chance encounter with the Onishi's yesterday got me thinking, once again, about things Japanese. It is hard for me to state in any rational way just how much I loved my time in Japan and how most of my life since returning seems like treading water. It is a postscript in a dull book. There have been smallish summits here and there (Ann is one exceptional high spot) but nothing to match the quality of that period. I suppose this is what is meant by peak experience.

By coincidence today, I stumbled on a song that I liked from my immersion in the J-POP scene on my first working trip to Sanda in 2001. It was approaching Christmas that year and becoming genuinely cold outside. My time out from classes sometimes gave me the chance to watch a cable music channel, such as Viewsic. Amongst the many ordinary pop servings was a Christmas song by Keisuke Kuwata, White Lover(Shiroi Koibito tachi). The artist sits outdoors at a piano as the snows falls, the black and white photography highlighting the isolation of various individuals whose lives are shown in sharp relief to the presumed spirit of the season. But the gentle insinuation of the snow is an irresistible force in finding new connections - it is the white lover. The song is one of those pretty ballads that, with time, grows on you. Finding it again today was quite a blessing and I include a couple of stills from the video which unfortunately, is not available online.