And then... the big moment came. I could not believe my ears. Surely they must have practised this many, many times before, yet Chief Justice Roberts spoke like a man recovering from a deep anaesthetically induced sleep. He bumbled out his lines in random order, interrupted our would-be hero, then dashed off the last part with a silly grin and a look on his face as if the earth was about to open up and swallow him down, which he may have rather been hoping for.
I must say that I felt really deflated by the swearing-in, but all was soon forgotten and forgiven as President Obama ripped into a wonderful speech. I, like millions of others, remain hopeful and positive. And I wish President Obama all the very best for his presidency in these very difficult times.
FOOTNOTE: In his first day in office, he is already making plans to close down that shameful Guantanamo Bay prison, which has held the vast majority of its prisoners without trial for over 6-years, with many being subject to torture by their American captors.
Oh, and Obama had to be privately sworn-in again because of the legality of the original mess. Apparently swearing-in again has happened to two previous presidents! Of course, they were "white" presidents!
http://www.sockandawe.com/
In this simple game, you get to throw a shoe at the soon-to-be outgoing President Bush. And thank God he's off, murderous swine that he is.
Apparently throwing a shoe at someone is a great insult in many parts of the Middle East, so let's show a bit of solidarity here and let them fly.
Direct hit on Bush
79,403,464 shoes have satisfactorily hit the target to date!
]]>By early 1990 the Japanese economy was in terrible shape and went into deep recession, which to this day it has never, ever truly recovered. All of this was not helped by the emerging economy of China, which was starting to really suck up overseas investment, becoming a hotbed of economic growth.
The Japanese government floundered, but one main plank of its policy was to slash base interest rates, which for most of the last 18-years have effectively been little more than zero percent. And the net effect of zero interest rates on the Japanese economy? Nothing! Zilch! Bugger all! The Japanese economy hasn't experienced notable economic growth since 1990!
The lesson then? Very low interest rates do not really make any difference in promoting economic growth to the benefit of employment. Capitalist economics is simply really. When people are in stable jobs earning reasonable income, they spend money and buy things, which means businesses can thrive. But when people are thrown on the scrap heap by the million and others very worried about their futures, spending, unsurprisingly, goes down. Businesses then don't sell so many things, so they throw more out of work. Then confidence and spending goes down again and a vicious circle is entered into.
Tinkering with interest rates will not stop this downward cycle. However, giving people real stable jobs will. The irony is that there is plenty to be done by targeting jobs in the green sector. This is urgently needed if we are serious about getting away from the carbon consuming economy that all societies have become addicted to. A whole new phase of growth, jobs and opportunity should be concentrated on by making economic activity sustainable and carbon neutral. It is with the greatest urgency that this is addressed before we reach the tipping point leading to cataclysmic climate change, which will irreparably change all life on Mother Earth as we know it.
What an indictment of humanity if we fail our planet because we became obsessed with fiddling with a couple of percentage interest rate points.
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Hardly a chick magnet this jacket. But there again neither he or the fairer sex probably know what it means!
So, we got one southern-hemisphere scalp, but Wales, according the rugby maestro Graham Henry, is playing its rugby in the wrong part of the world! He quipped that Wales would be best placed to compete with the likes of the Kiwis, Boks and Aussies if we were in the Tri-nations, which would then make it the Quad-nations, I suppose.
Hell of a journey making it for the regular away fixtures, but this perplexing situation for the Welsh Rugby Union has the simplest of solutions. We swap the whole of Wales for New South Wales. Think of the advantages. First, we'd hardly need to change the name of the new dwelling place. Just drop the New and the South bit. Next, we'd have loads of healthy looking Welsh folk around given that they get so much sunshine out there, and of course, our rugby would zoom-up in its level and intensity by participating in the Quad-nations.
It's not all negative for the displaced Aussies, either. First, they'd get to know what a real pint of beer tastes like, and next they'd build up a stoic, stiff upper-lip having to put up with all our miserable weather.
So the message is simple; Go south, Wales!
The New World
As I took the cover off, the alarmed moggy made a panicky jump and landed inside the main part of the cover, sprawling around totally captured. It took a while for me to help her get free, but I got no thanks from the blasted cat who motored off into the distance at top speed as soon as she'd wriggled out of her temporary self-imposed imprisonment.
Come on, let's face it. You'd sleep here, wouldn't you!
So, what exactly is going on with my motorbike? It appears to have become some kind of cat doss-house, a veritable overnight lodging place for cats! There's probably some fat-cat landlord in the distance selling nightly rights for a kip on my beautiful machine!
]]>The last major shake up of infrastructure, which totally flattened Tokyo, occurred in 1923 when over 140,000 people perished in a 7.9 Richter scale earthquake. And much the same is expected the next time this happened, which could be any day soon because Tokyo sits on not one, but three fault lines.
Ido's idiotic plan condones multiple death and agony for hundreds of thousands of people. Politically, all hell has broken loose for Ido due to his unseemly comments, and the old boot has done what politicians do; he's pretended to be sorry without actually really saying the words that he was sorry for his callous and stupid remarks. You know the line, it not so much that you are sorry for what you said, but you are sorry if people misunderstood what you said and/ or were offended about it and blah-de-blah-de-bloody-dah. In other words.... I AM NOT SORRY!
I haven't heard what has become of Ido, but I hope that he has been taken quietly away to the funny farm... but wait, he's already there. It's called the Japanese political system!
All fall down -Toshizo Ido. Give this lunatic a very wide berth.
MP: I put it to you Mr. Brown that you don't know the average cost of a bag of chips and curry sauce in Bargoed on a Saturday night.
Brown: Utter rubbish. I would like to assure the public that the government is on target with its fiscal plans, and I should imagine that one can pick up the said items for around fifteen pounds, six-shillings and sixpence ha'penny.
Howls of derision in the chamber, except from Tory toffs, who didn't understand the question. Later, in BBC interviews, people clamour to deride Brown for being out of touch due to his lack of knowledge of the food habits of ordinary Bargoed folk.
Fantasy you might say? Such a conversation would never occur in Britain or anywhere else. Wrong! It did in Japan!
Being Prime Minister in Japan is to represent the honour with one eye on the revolving door because they come and go so quickly; few last more than a year. The latest incumbent is an anonymous fella called Taro Aso (if you say his family name under your breath, it sound like you are saying the vernacular for someone's posterior!).
Aso comes from an extremely wealthy family and very much enjoys the good life, as he has done since he took the silver spoon out of his gob. He dines every night at the most expensive restaurants, and unwinds after work at exclusive bars where the bill would represent a whole months wages for us mere mortals. He didn't even move into the official prime minister's residence because it was nothing compared to the sprawling, luxurious estate he has in downtown Tokyo.
All of this opulence has not been lost on the opposition party and they cleverly pounced by asking Aso in parliament if he knew how much a cup of instant noodles would cost. Noodles, it was said, were a staple of ordinary Japanese people, especially now in these tough economic times. Aso obliged with an answer. He thought that one could pick up said cup for about 600 yen (3 quid), but he was way off the mark as you can get a pot for about 60p. This gaff made the national news as opposition law makers tried to show it was conclusive evidence of how out-of-touch he was with ordinary people's lives. I would have though a few snaps of him going to exclusive eateries and booze places would have been more effective, but there you are!
Come on, Prime Minister, how much?
Aso has gone on the offensive by trying to hang-out at some more ordinary places in front of the media glare. He popped into an isakaya, which is a low-cost Japanese style pub/restaurant, to chat over this and that, making a total Aso of... sorry fool of ... himself as he didn't have a clue as to the food items available there!
Aso laughs the bill off as he reaches for his wallet
All this begs the question; Does Brown really know how much curry and chips costs in Bargoed? How about a deep fried Mars bar in Glasgow? Isn't it time the British public knew the truth about Brown and his knowledge of ordinary folks eating habits?
]]>Up till now I have not met my nocturnal tenant, but that all changed yesterday morning. I was up at the crack of dawn, peeling back the cover from my motorbike in readiness for the morning's commute, when there to greet me, large as life as life. fast-asleep curled up on the seat, was my new lodger.
She is a very pretty tanned-brown and black pussy. It was one of those moments that seemed to last a life time. Her yellow bulging eyes fixed on me in shock, and I gawked back at her, equally surprised. This went on for a while until cat instinct kicked-in. She arched her back, gave out a menacing hiss and bared her claws, but before I could even think of legging it myself, she was gone.
Oh well, at least now we have become acquainted, albeit briefly. Probably won't be long before I start leaving food for her on the seat, which would have pleased my Mam.
]]>My bike must provide a safe haven for one of these pussies. And, as I come home late most nights, it must be pretty warm under there just after the engine goes off and the cover goes on.
Where cats go undercover.
There is only one thing that bugs me about my uninvited guest. Well, you know what cats are like, so I assume the night time owner of my bike marks his/her territory with a liberal splashing of concentrated, ripe piss, just in time for me to sit in every morning as I take off to work!
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It really lifted my spirits to see such lovely colours in these trees. Tokyo is gearing up for one last colourful display before winter kicks in.
So if your feeling down, I have a piece of advice; go for a long walk somewhere nice and let Mother Earth soothe you. Perhaps we ought to get all the world's leaders to engage in nature more. They may find they want to save it!
]]>The ancient art of bowing on meeting or departing is as old as the hills in Japan. It is quite an art form with rigorous etiquette regarding status, the social occasion and a lot of other things that I've never really got a grasp on, but it regulates the type and depth of the bow performed. Us ignorant foreigners might try to flip in a bow to show how cosmopolitan we really are, but we invariably mess it up, making total fools of ourselves in oriental eyes; perhaps we went too low or kept eye-contact or something or other, which made asses out of feeble efforts.
Anyway, whether you get it right or wrong, please bow when you traipse around Britain, particularly when going up north. Why? I hear you ask. Well, the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine has just finished looking into the UK's hand-washing habits, and what they found out is really scary.
Swabs taken from the hands of men from Newcastle revealed that more than half were contaminated with faecal bacteria, that is, SHITE, to use the vernacular. So a Geordie grabbing you by the mitt and pumping it in a delighted greeting is going to be giving you more than you bargained for, which could make you very ill.
Apart from bowing, there is one more thing that could be done; HEAD SOUTH! If you must press the flesh, the further south you go in Britain, the less chance of catching a handful of crap from someone. The percentage of shitty hands fell with latitude so:
34% of Liverpudlian men tested positive for faeces on their hands.
21% of Brummies.
15% for Cardiff.
6% for Londoners.
Taking the issue a bit far!
Safest of all, though, is adopting the habit of bowing. If it doesn't go down too well with those primed to manly engage in handshaking, then tell people you just found out from you DNA that you are, in fact, oriental.
Footnote: The research I read in the paper made no mention of women's hands and the amount of crap they might or might not contain. Also, alarmingly, handshaking is become a more common sight in Japan!
]]>Mind you, for the 400 smackers you do get a chicken that's stuffed with black truffles, foie gras, white sausage and chestnuts. A spokesman for the store reassuringly said that it was, quote, "perfect for a party." Not the sort of party that I'd ever be invited to!
Fancy splurging on your Christmas dinner? The 400 quid chicken!
Oh well, how the other tiny fraction of a percent live, eh! 1,000,000,000 people will go to sleep hungry on Christmas Day, but thankfully some rich berk somewhere will be tucking into Takashimaya's 400 quid chicken. What a world we live in. It is so morally reprehensible that it should happen, but this is how we choose to organise mankind's affairs.
Merry Christmas everyone.
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Let's not forget, that less than 50-years ago, African Americans couldn't even eat in the same restaurant as white people. They had to sit in the back of municipal buses and even use different park benches in many states of so-called democratic America.
Time and time again I came across bemused African Americans on the telly unable to express themselves regarding the news that we have Barack Obama as president elect for the USA. Many confessed that they never thought they would see it in their lifetimes.
Well, history has been made, and I am still wiping the tears from my eyes!
I cycled off from the bank to some shops still under the penetrating gaze of the fuzz. On the way, I passed a few more banks, and more heavy police presence, pardon the pun. I shopped, and cycled home. On passing even more banks, I saw even more law enforcers. This is the first time that I've ever witnessed so many of them literally surrounding the banks.
Were we to be arrested if we attempted to take out too much dough in order to shore up these revered financial institutes in these difficult times? Or were the cops simply going to the source to save time in picking up their bribes?
Later in the day, I hopped on my motorbike to go to work. Every bank I passed had a cop glued to it wearing a menacing frown. All very puzzling. But it became clear later. The Fuzz had decided, in their infinitive wisdom (which is, actually, extremely finite) to send a cop to pretty much all the ATMs in all of Japan. It seems that fateful day was the day when 40,000,000 Japanese pensioners go to the banks to pick up 6,500,000,000,000 yen (40 billion quid) in pension payments.
Waiting for the enriched old-folk are unscrupulous thieves and swines who want to take their money. They previously prime their victims and get them to part with their dosh; in 2004, swindlers got more than 300 million quid off their targets. The scams work like this. A is an old person. B is the scammer. The phone rings.
A: "Hello?"
B: "Hi, Dad."
A: "Son?"
B: "Of course. Listen, I'm in urgent need of some cash as I've crashed the car and I don't have insurance."
A: "Oh? Umm... how do I know you're my son?"
B: "It's me, it's me!"
A: "OK, where do I wire the money?"
And that is that. The old person gets out some money and wires it to the criminal. Money and bad guy are never seen again. Of course the scammers are more adept at it than the simple conversation above, but apparently, "It's me, it's me." is central to the operation. And it is no laughing matter for some people. One duped individual handed over 120,000 quid!
Initially, I was left scratching my head a little in how some people be so easily fooled, and how come they don't recognise their close relative's voice? What does that say about the modern Japanese family? But having done more than scratched the surface on this issue, I can see how evil and smart the scammers are in taking advantage of the weak in this society and it turns my stomach. Turns out that the vast numbers of police at all the ATMs were approaching all the old people to warn them to be careful about money transfers in an extra effort to stem this fraud.
One good thing now is the scam has made such sensational news that old people are becoming more aware and very wary of it. The fraudsters, unfortunately, have moved on, and they attack old people by telling them they are tax or social insurance office officials, promising their prey refunds on previous payments in exchange for a handling fee. Even worse, callers pose as police officers or lawyers, claiming that the victim's son has been caught groping a woman on a train, but agreeing to drop the case in exchange for cash. In other recent cases victims are told their siblings desperately need cash to pay loan sharks or for a girlfriend's abortion. These vicious stories see good-willed oldies opening up their wallets by the score, sad to say.
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