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This weekend was quiet but fairly nice nonetheless. I woke up early this morning and spent it cleaning and doing the laundry. Then, wanting a bit more workspace for my study room, I dragged out my old desk top board from storage and set it up by the wall behind my desk. I’d like to buy a new, larger one to cut to fit properly into the little nook (with holes for cables, possibly supported only by the wall behind so there won’t be any feet, making cleaning easier.

While I’m still not quite sure how I’ll end up using the space (and busy with work; will that ever change…?) I’ll make the old plate do.

I then dragged out an unused desktop workstation and set it up along with the display and keyboard from the server up in the attic. It’s currently just running a live OS off a USB key and the video card only seems to support up to 800×640 pixel resolution but it’s nice to have a desktop that I can just leave there. I’ll probably wipe the drive soon and install some sensible Linux distribution.

Alongside this, I watched a number of lectures from a treasure chest I happened to stumble across recently: The Monthly’s SlowTV. I found a number of interesting talks. The one that brought me to the site was Sean Carroll’s The origin of the universe and the arrow of time, a lecture on the nature of time and the importance of entropy on it. Since we only observe the passing of time through our memory and aren’t (well: don’t seem to be) able to revisit it, the subject becomes very difficult to understand the basic nature of time. Spatial dimensions are much easier to wrap one’s head around as we have so many more ways of experiencing it (sight, sound and touch all give us different views of space). Time, on the other hand, might just as well be a figment of our imagination or a limitation of our minds.

Others of interest were Mark Colyvan’s Kurt Gödel and the limits of mathematics (on Gödel’s incompleteness theory, why it’s interesting and what some of its implications are) and Jason Mattingley’s What can neuroscience tell us about consciousness? After brunch at my grandmother’s I headed back, did some more cleaning up while watching a few more talks, most interestingly Sashi Tahroor’s Why nations should pursue “soft” power, while (fittingly, given the talk earlier that morning) turning my attention to an old clock.

It’s lain broken in the attic for year, but ever since writing an essay in gymnasium on the nature of time measurements (for which I read up on the history of chronometers and the details of mechanical clocks) I’ve had a great interest in clockwork. Taking it apart revealed a few problems. One of the springs (the one that drives the chiming mechanism) is loose and doesn’t really allow to be wound up properly, but there also seems to be a problem with the mechanism that should stop the chiming after a certain number. The weight on the pendulum is missing and setting it to the right frequency might be a pain.

Finally, the supports that fix the clockwork mechanism in the case were broken and I’m not sure how the chiming mechanism is supposed to hit the chime (which is fixed at the back of the case). The supports are critical and the woodwork needed to fix it is simple enough, but non-trivial when you don’t have much in the way of tools or materials. If I ever settle down, I’d love a little workshop — even though it wouldn’t quite compare to Matthias Wandel’s workshop (the guy who made the binary marble adding machine). Still, a few tools and a place to make a bit of a mess would be nice. I find it so much more satisfying to make something myself than buy it from a store.

Anyway, I couldn’t find a piece of wood to make a replacement support from, but the clockwork mechanism is sound and shouldn’t be too difficult to fix.

My fridge has been rather poorly stocked recently, but being in an enterprising mood, I felt rather like making something out of the various scraps I had, than just sandwiches or ordering out. There wasn’t much, but cooking for one doesn’t take a lot so I sautéed half an onion, chucked in some small slices of a French salami and olives, and made a decent olive. This with a decent sized side dish of a lettuce mixture and tomatoes. Very simple and pretty good!

I do need to figure out how to make a decent omelette on a non-non-sticking pan…

Just came across this documentary by the Canadian CBC’s The Passionate Eye. It tells of a teacher from Kanazawa and some of his teaching methods that he tries to use to create a bond between the students based on empathy and thoughfulness.

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In about four hours I will have been in Iceland for a week and a day. The weather has been great, seeing friends and family has been fantastic and I’ve managed to get fairly comfortably settled in while enjoying myself as well.

Last weekend was the reason why I left the rolling hills of Tuscany for the storm-beaten cliffs of Iceland. A good friend of mine, Jón Örn (or Johnny Eagle … yes, seriously — though I’m not sure how many call him that apart from me), and his fiancé, Margrét Dís (or Magga), had chosen that weekend to get married before moving to Umeå in Sweden (directions from Iceland: Four blocks South and 2029 kilometers East). A break in the fair weather Icelanders had been enjoying, the weather forecast predicted heavy rain on the wedding day, but the few drops that fell hardly bothered hardy Icelandic wedding guests and it so happened that the part of the celebration that took place outside (at Þingvellir, a beautiful — and geologically intersting — spot about three quarters of an hour east of Reykjavík) was not only spared, but the sun even had a peak at the party, lending us a few rays to take nice photographs.

Having set my return date for the beginning of July, wondering what I’d do all my free time (not that I was particularly worried I’d run out of things to do) I got an email from Árni, one of the heroes that run Siglunes, the sailing school I worked at some years ago (the best job in the world, by the way). Apparently one of the staff works for ÍTR (Íþrótta- og tómstuda-ráð Reykjavíkur — it is left up to the reader as an excercise in Icelandic figure out what that means. Hints: a) the English acronym would be RSLC, and b) Iclelandic, like German, compunds words so I’ve left a helpful hyphen) all year ’round and they need someone to replace him while he takes his summer vacation.

And that’s where I have to rush off to now, to help them with the afternoon lessons.

Pictures from Italy and Iceland coming soon…

The weather has been fantastic as the end of my stay here in Madison draws closer. Now firmly in sight and the remaining days mostly allocated, I try to use my days here well. I’m not always successful, but I’m definately enjoying them.

Yesterday we had dinner outside for the first time this year. The mosquitos caught the end of dinner, but fortunately most people were already done eating. Dinner was great; potatoe gratin, grilled chicken, salad and bread, washed down with a Beringer Merlot (the Ruffino Chianti turned out to have gone bad).

Yesterday, the entire neighbourhood was locked down and policemen with roadblocks stationed at every other intersection. It turned out that a man was on the run after allegedly murdering his wife and residents were advised to stay indoors as the man was armed and dangerous. Not being allowed to work in the garden, I decided to watch a movie that I’ve been meaning to read ever since I read Robert Fisk’s very favourable review of it in The Age of the Warrior, a collection of Fisk’s articles from the last ten years. The movie was Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven. A somewhat fitting choice given the siege I was under.

After seeing Black Hawk Down and Gladiator, my impression was that Scott was little more than a sensationalist with a talent for dramatic visuals. Oh, that and bastardising history (which was the biggest fault I found with Gladiator). In Kingdom of Heaven, however, Ridley Scott seems to have a particular message and while it is a misrepresentation of what are considered historical facts, I do sympathise with his argument that it is necessary to translate the sentiments into modern times.

In that vein, he makes some of the main characters much more empathetic than they truly were. In reality, they were all far less pure at heart and motivated greatly by their personal political ambitions. One historian, commenting on the film said he wasn’t really able to think of any person from the era to whom a modern cinema goer would be able to relate.

Curious as I am, I spent a good deal of time after watching the film, reading up on the actual history of the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the historical characters of Balian, Saladin, Baldvin V and Raymond (Jeremy Irons’ Tiberias). I was glad not to have known the history beforehand. It would have thoroughly ruined the film.

Ruined it because how history has been reworked to make the storyline fit. Glad because I otherwise enjoyed the messge.

The message is largely on religion and tolerance. The crusades often pop up in discussions on religion as examples of the terrible things which religion leads to. I find both those critisising religion for it’s belligerence as well as those defending it by arguing that atheism has been responsible for just as many dead, are looking at non-causal elements. Wars seem to be to a much greater extent for power and wealth.

My favorite two characters (largely for their displayed traits of benevolance and intellect), Tiberias and the Knights Hospitaller that follows Balian from when he joins his father’s party, until riding off to the battle of Hattin (the massacre where the Kingdom of Jerusalem is pretty much annihilated) both have good lines on the subject when Balian arrives first in Jerusalem. Tiberias at one part reminded me of Major General Smedley Butler:

I have given Jerusalem my whole life. First, I thought we were fighting for God. Then I realized we were fighting for wealth and land. I was ashamed.

Upon meeting Balian in Jerusalem and hearing him say he’s lost religion, the Hospitaller makes what is perhaps the clearest part of this recurring theme of religion vs. goodness:

I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I’ve seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves.

The problem, of course, is what “right action” constitutes. A good first step toward the solution is the suspicion of organised religion and the recognition that others may feel as righteous in their faith as one might feel oneself. The latter is, however, only implied, if touched on at all, and can be handled in two ways. One may seek to fight the heretics, or grant them the same respect one would wish for oneself. Interestingly, nearly every religion has a version of the Golden Rule.

Another element struck a chord with me. Speaking to Balian, Baldwin IVth says:

A King may move a man, a father may claim a son, but remember that even when those who move you be Kings, or men of power, your soul is in your keeping alone. When you stand before God, you cannot say, “But I was told by others to do thus.” Or that, “Virtue was not convenient at the time.” This will not suffice. Remember that.”

Chivalry as an ideal is presented in the character of Balian, “the perfect knight”, but not without critisism (as when he refuses princess Sybilla’s request that he take part in a plot against the proponents of war); “There will be a day when you will wish you had done a little evil to do a greater good.”) There is no system of morality that can deliver a good outcome from weighing between two evils. Whichever ethic we choose, the choice is ours.

We should remember that.

This morning, Yuri and I headed out to Kansai International Airport, or Kanku as it is regularly known (short for Kansai Kokusei Kuko — 関西国際空港). After breakfast we said our farewells and I headed off to my Cathay Pacific flight to Hong Kong.

After landing in Hong Kong, I took an airport limousine to Shenzhen airport where I’m sitting right now, waiting for my flight to Hangzhou (杭州). I’ve only been in China for half a day, but it’s still a really interesting experience. People are loud, rude, rushed and traffic is chaos.

Feels like Iceland ;-)

Yesterday I had my last day, my last Good-Bye song, my last lesson and my last send-off. It was a good day; All four lessons went reasonably well and we had a good time together. It was an emotional day; Singing the Good-Bye song with seven pairs of big, four-year-old eyes looking up at me (well, Nene is only three).

The last student I saw off was Yuto. His father came to pick him up along with Yuto’s younger sister, Rio. He took our picture, I shook their hands and we thanked each other for the time we’d had together. Yuto and I waved to each other until the car was out of sight and I returned to the classroom to wipe the tears from my eyes.

I’ll miss my kids.

So, this week is the last one teaching for Peppy Kids. Last week I was at Hikawa Shinji classroom and this week I’m at Matsue Kita. I’ve been doing fairly standard lessons with the last few minutes sitting down, thanking them for a great time and giving them a candy or two. For a couple of higher level classes (junior high school students) which are the most textbook oriented, I’ve brought out some treats and we’ve sat chatting a bit. The material this unit is “I wonder…” which merges well with chatting about the future (who the new teacher will be, where he/she will be from, whether he/she has a monkey…).

I’ve also gotten a few presents from students. My favorites are the letters, self made things like drawings and cookies are a close second, but they’re all so nice! POM-juice jelly, christmas biscuits, flowers, drawings and a towel. Gotta love those kids!

In other news; we’re screwed: Too Late? Why Scientists Say We Should Expect the Worst.

I’m no big fan of Flash, but Moyers is worth it.

Since we’re at it; don’t miss Frontline’s Young & Restless in China.

There are about 50 apartments in the Asahi Kaikan building where I live. Just as I am, many of my neighbours are little interested in the many advertising fliers that we are bombarded with. Unlike me, some of these neighbours seem to think that the best way to reduce the load of these is to simply place them on top of the mailbox rack for the wind to scatter around the platform before the front door.

Annoyed as I am by little things, I took an unused box from one of my classrooms and labelled it “ダイレクトメルのごみ” (dairekuto-meru no gomi), literally: “direct mail trash” and left it below the mailboxes. Sure enough, everyone cooperated.

As the box started to fill up, I wondered how I should go about emptying it. To my surprise and joy, one day as I came home from work the box was empty. Since then, every now and then the box is emptied. I don’t know by who. I’ve never seen anyone who seems like they may be the building caretaker or manager though I assume that’s who it must be.

This hardly amounts to much in the grand scheme of things, but I like it as an anecdote of something small, useful and accomplishable. The complexity of the more obviously significant things often makes them difficult to fix. Mending each bit, irrespective of how small and insignificant it may be, we might just make those biggies that bit more assailable.

Sound idealistic and naïve? Thank you! In this case it’s far better than the alternative.