Thursday, December 06, 2007

THIS BLOG HAS MOVED!

This is just a quick notice to whoever reads this blog,
This blog has moved (a long time ago, actually) to a new
service and thus a new URL. You can find the new blog
by clicking here.

If you were an RSS subscriber, you can load up a new feed
on the new (and sexy) Tumblr-hosted blog. Which I actually update.

Hooray!
Jason

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

'Toodle pip!' I said,
and I meant it to sting
- PG Wodehouse's 'Bertie Wooster'

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unrelated ref/////::
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Monday, September 17, 2007


"Power leads to destruction: famous words from... Someone"
-my dad

Gold-leafed temples of Thailand

When the highest type of men hear Tao,
They diligently practice it.
When the average type of men hear Tao,
They half believe in it.
When the lowest type of men hear Tao,
They laugh heartily at it.
Without the laugh, there is no Tao.
- Lao-tzu

Flower near a british pub

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Piccadilly Circus - Ramblings


Rising out of the tube station only to find myself smack-bang in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, is an experience in itself. And one I wont be forgetting any time soon.

The london tube stations, I have observed, are home to a ruthless competition for advertising space which results in a complete barrage of advertisements targeting the passerby. The contrast between this petty bombardment and the utter dominance of the neon/LCD/epilepsy panels that gush corporate god from the building surrounding Piccadilly Circus is like going from the frying pan straight into the fire.



Don't get me wrong, I love piccadilly Circus, it's gorgeous, I mean hell, it's Time Square's grandad. But nevertheless: be warned. It's enough to kill a man.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

July 23rd - Visiting Berlin

Today is an important day for it is the day that I returned to my senses.

Made possible by a good night's sleep that I had the night before, me and the others set out to explore Berlin with the rare luxury of eyes that are not blood-shot. The various monuments, sights and general street life of Berlin is really impressive.

The Brandenburg Gate was really amazing and it had the same effect on me as seeeing the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Speaking of which, both times I was really surprised of their size; they're both incredibly big structures, clearly postcards and pictures don't do them justice.

The second sight I visited was the huge Reichstag parliamentary building. I wont attempt to shed any light on its history for the simple reason that I'm completely oblivious to it. But what I can say is that I plan on learning more about it. That and that it's huge, square/rectangularly shaped with a huge dome on the top and an overall intimidating presence.

The fact that I was intimidated by a building is a perfect example of how Berlin's taboo history (Hitler, WWII, etc.) still continues to influence its people. It's no doubt that monuments and buildings from that period such as the two I've mentioned do nothing to help Berliners forget their dark history. But whether or not people should try and forget it is a controvertial matter in itself. Personally, I believe that it is crucial that we, as a planet, share the responsibility of never becoming ignorant towards the terrible crimes of the Holocaust. All countrys, in a sense, are partially to blame for not having attempted to intervene before military intervention was necessary. It pisses me off the think that the entire nightmare of the holocaust could have been prevented, yet we did nothing while we had the chance.

The scares are deepest in Berlin, I would think.
When I stop to think about it, the history of Berlin is indeed a very dark one.

This seems as good a time as any to speak a little about the Berlin wall.

I saw many different segments, each very well preserved, seemingly intact, scattered throughout Berlin.

Most of them were covered in graffiti. And messages and slogans were scribbled all over every square inch of some of the more drawn-on ones.

It was crazy, seeing and touching the Berlin wall. It's a subject I've heard about all my life but never actually seen or understood.

It scares me to think that the exact same thing that happend in Berlin all those years ago is happ ening as we speak with the Israel - Palesting wall. I guess we never do learn from our mistakes. Ignorance and oppression do not make a conflict dissapear, they strengthen it. And building walls is just one giant catalyst for more anger, more resentment and ultimately more violence. But that's a whole other story.

Speaking of which, I may have to cut this one a little short. I'll be sure to update it later. I have a train to catch early tommorow and guess where it's going.

Your damn right....

Amsterdam.

July 22nd - A Mango Lassi and Berlin

"That was" I said "the best scratching of the back of the neck I've ever had". This sort of comment, I would expect, is exactly why people like me should never be awake with 5 other people in a dimly lit but fast moving cabbie, which is making its way quickly and effeciently to an airport in Paris... At a little under 4 oclock in the morning.

Unfortunately for me though, that was precisely what I was doing and, beneath the thunder and lightning of a storm that had just moved overhead, what I would continue to be doing for the next couple of minutes before arriving at the airport.

I was, as I had expected, wasted.
Not drunk, I don't drink, but wasted all the same.

The airport was - or rather seemed to be at the time - small.

We spent a significant amount of time standing in front of a counter, delighted to see that we appeared to be the first ones there, before realizing that we were in fact at the wrong counter and, upon finding the right one, that we were in fact the very last.

If my life was a video playing on a T.V. for which you had a remote, and you had made the wise decision of fastforwarding approximately 20 minutes or so, you would probably see me sitting in a waiting room chuckling to myself and sipping on a mango lassi that I found in the frozen food section of what can only be described as the workplace of a vendor of abslutely shameless crap.

If you got bored and fastforwarded another, say, hour and a half or so I would have just landed in Berlin.

Let it be known that I had completely misjudged the plane. Firstly, it was large and more importantly, it didn't crash. This was all very good news to me.

Berlin. Ahh, Berlin.

In my half sleeping frame of mind I managed to transport my body from one European stronghold to another (picking up a mango lassi on the way), take numerous metro rides to the city, get a cab to the hotel, get told that the room wasn't ready, go ouside, wander aimlessly, find a cafe, eat, stop eating, visit the Jewish Museum, come back, go to my room, write this and, what will soon be the climatic moment of utter relaxation: SLEEP.

I leave you now
with a thought
which I seem to have forgotten

Goodbye,
JF

Saturday, July 22, 2006

July 21st - the Pre-Berlin Prep Talk of the Soul

Tommorow I leave for Berlin. The flight is at 5 am and I need to get up at 3:30 in the morning. It is a well known fact that people who get up early in the morning cause war, death and famine. (Banksy wisdom, you can't beat it) And look at me now.

I'm wasted. It's already past 10 oclock and, although I got a pre-emptive 12 hours of sleep last night, I fear I may be completely and utterly doomed for Berlin. This probably wouldn't be such a big deal for anyone else. But those who know me at all know that without sleep, people on crack will make more sense than me. I could go on.

Also, I fear the plane may crash.

Yes, crash. Not a big crash, not with fire and flailing about, but a small one.
With a slight 'poof' to mark the end.

The kind of crash that has you staring widely into the void beneath you, 40,000 feet in the air, with nothing but the words "I fucking knew it" at your disposal.

I say all this because apart from suspecting the plane will crash, I also suspect it will be quite small. The kind of plane that I've come to know is usually piloted by some pinheaded idiot with enough sexual tension to depress a Guatemalan howler monkey.
And a license to fly to go with it.

This opinion is largely due to the fact that the plane that brought me from England to France suffered a similarily gimped pilot. And a similar size.

Alas, the biased opinion.

Anyhow, tommorow proves to be an exciting one indeed. What with the sleep deprived pilot, my sure-to-be halluciogenic state of mind, the possibly drug induced stupor of Zak and his notorious jet lag pills and the relative discomfort of everyone and everything around me.

But I think you get the idea.

Until next time,
JF