Tagged Out

I've been tagged by my buddy Glenn, which means once again I'm going to inflict readers with personal information they probably could live without. The rules of this meme go something like this:

1. 1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. 2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. 3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. 4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Rules 1 and 2 are no problem; I don't really mind being tagged. I'm afraid I'll have to pass on rules 3 and 4, though. (You guessed it! I don't have 7 friends. This is my secret shame!)

Anyway, without further ado, 7 random things about me:

1. I was expelled in my first week of high school for setting off a stink bomb in a stairwell (my parents were, shall we say, somewhat less than pleased). The kicker is that I was completely innocent of the charge. I remember it like it was yesterday... I'm sitting in homeroom at the beginning of the second day, when my teacher comes in, looks at me, and tells me they want to see me down in the office. As I'm getting up to go, he calls out, "you better take your books and stuff with you." I walk down to the office trying to figure out what the fuck I could have done to warrant this. Damn, it was only the second day! Turns out that some little shit (probably the guy who actually did it) told the principal that he'd seen me near the stairwell when the stink bomb went off. I was given no chance to defend myself and was sent home for a week. (This is how good kids turn bad, my friends, and don't ever fucking kid yourselves.) I would eventually get my revenge. In my second year I managed to steal the "detention book," releasing dozens of students from untold hours of boredom and drudgery. I got back at the rat, too, but that's a story unto itself...
2. As anyone who comes here regularly has already figured out, I'm an atheist and an existentialist. This means, of course, that I have no sense of right and wrong and I would just as soon kill a motherfucker as shake his hand. And I eat babies.
3. Shameless self-promotion (1): I made the Dean's List every year I was in university, and was awarded a full scholarship to do my Master's Degree. I'm an asshole, but a well-educated one.
4. Shameless self-promotion (2): As a first-year university student I got an "A" in a class on Aristotle's Metaphysics (a seminar class populated mostly by grad students). I've translated (from Greek) large chunks of Homer's Odyssey and several plays by Euripides (among other things).
5. Shameless self-promotion (3): I'm a pretty good drummer. See:
6. Having said the above, I'm actually a pretty modest person if you meet me! I'm a pretty good guy to have a beer with, too!
7. When I was 14 I broke my collar bone in a bicycle accident. It's the only bone I've ever broken, although I took a few stiches in the head a few years ago falling down some stairs (it was my birthday...), and I've sprained both ankles (motorcycle accident/frisbee catch at the beach), among other things. I'm starting to get a bit... wobbly...

Weekly Photo Challenge: "Ostentation"

This week the theme for Glenn and Dave's Weekly Photo Challenge is "ostentation" ("pretentious display meant to impress others; boastful showiness").

Here's how it went down, folks:



No doubt somebody will be pissed off by this, but I am Kyklops and I fear no man! Besides, can you prove it didn't happen?

I Want a Raise!

Nothing like a vanity boost while browsing the web. I should show this to my wife the next time I bring up the topic of buying a drum kit...




And yes, that's a comma (not a decimal point!).

[H/T: Glenn]

Never a Dull Moment...

I saw this poster...



... and, for some strange reason, thought of this song:

Nena-99 Red Balloons

The mind is a strange and wondrous thing...

Yeah, Right...

What's that old "Chinese proverb"? Something like, "It's better to keep one's mouth shut and appear to be a fool, than to open it and remove all doubt"? Or was it, "He who farts in church sits in pew"? I forget... Anyway, somewhere some squirrels running on exercise wheels squeezed out a few bingo balls and, as if by magic, translated the findings into a bunch of 0's and 1's and deemed the content of this blog to be of such a high level that only a genius could possibly comprehend it. I have, in my oh-so-subtle way, been trying to convince everybody of this fact for several months now. What's that old Klingon saying? "Revenge is a dish best served cold"? Or was it, "He who laughs last, laughs best"? I don't know, whatever it was I think that, on this auspicious occasion, it's quite appropriate. I mean, you know what they say in Japan: "The nail that sticks up gets hammered down." Or was it "The squeaky wheel gets the grease"? Fucked if I know and, as that great sage of our age, Yosemite Sam, is fond of saying, "It don't make no no-how to me anyhow"...

[H/T: Glenn]

The Cockroach

[Warning: the following post contains graphic, stylistically-enhanced depictions of human-on-cockroach violence.
Disclaimer: A much shorter version of the following story originally appeared in the comments section of someone else's blog, but I'll be damned if I can remember whose. I, of course, was the author of said comment.]

Miyazaki has some pretty big cockroaches. I'm talking 2-3 inches long, and mean-looking; sleek, shiny, with these big spike-like things on their legs. I want to say "samurai cockroaches", but the way they sneak up on you makes them more like "ninja cockroaches". Ninja-samurai cockroaches.

I hate them. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that I have an irrational hatred of cockroaches, particularly the Miyazaki variety. The first time I saw one, it was dead, and stuck to the inside of a "roach motel". It was fucking huge, and it was at that very moment I knew that the world was not big enough to contain the both of us.

Our condo is on the fourth floor of a building that's only 5 or 6 years old. It's a very clean, modern building and, so far as I know, nobody has any problems with cockroaches. During rainy season in June and July, however, motherfuckin'-big cockroaches will sometimes crawl up the walls of our building to hang out on the balcony. Only the "best and strongest" make it up to my place.

One night a couple of years ago I went out onto the balcony for a smoke. My wife was at work and my daughter was sleeping. I had no sooner lit my smoke when I noticed what must surely have been the "King of the Cockroaches" sitting on the balcony ledge just a few inches from the ashtray.

Now, these bastards are fast, so it's necessary to move quickly. Unfortunately, this fucker had taken me by surprise. I had to improvise (actually, he was close enough to grab with my hand, but...). A quick scan of the balcony's contents presented a pair of sandals, either one of which would do the job I needed to do nicely. With one fluid motion my right hand swooped down, picked up a sandal, raised it up, and smashed the ledge where the cockroach was sitting. I lifted up the sandal to inspect the sole.

Nothing. The bastard had escaped. I was furious. No, I was enraged. A quick scan of the balcony turned up no cockroaches. I wasn't finished, though. My senses were on fire and, inspired, I leaned out over the balcony and inspected the walls of our building. There he was! On the wall of the building about 4 or 5 feet from the edge of my balcony ledge!

I quickly jumped up onto the ledge of the balcony, sandal in hand, and worked my way to the edge. It would be a bit tricky, but I calculated that, if I could maintain my grip on the edge of the balcony wall with my left hand, and smash the wall (where the cockroach was) with the sandal in my right hand, I could kill the bastard.

He was a bit farther out than I had originally calculated. I was literally hanging by my fingertips when I smashed the sandal in my hand against the wall. The sandal rebounded almost instantly, and my adversary, seemingly suspended, clung for a moment to the building. A moment later, with a slow, almost graceful arc, he fell to the ground four stories below.

I, clinging to the side of the building like Spiderman, let out a howl of triumph. At that very moment my wife pulled into the driveway and, glancing up. saw me hanging off the building, sandal raised triumphantly, and shouting fuck-knows-what...

She thinks I'm crazy. They all think I'm crazy. But I killed the fucker...

Arts and Sciences

Back in my grad school days I used to work part-time as a bartender. One of my co-workers at this job, and a fellow grad student, was a young woman who was doing a PhD in Biology. I was doing a lowly MA in Classics, and I was 10 years older than her ( I didn't enter uni until I was in my 30s). Sometimes we would drink, and talk, and argue. We often argued about the "utility" of study in the "humanities." She was a real "scientist" so I usually forgave her generally unforgiving views of the humanities.

One night we were at a party. My friend didn't drink much, because she always had lab work, reports, and a bunch of other stuff to do every day. At this particular party I got completely blotto, and found myself hugging the toilet, if you know what I mean. Anyway, my friend finds me and figures this is a good time to "get one in".

"Jesus, Rick, look at yourself. You humanities students are something else. Do you guys ever, like, study or anything?"

I've got puke on my chin. I'm drunk, I'm sick, I'm wasted. I look at her and say, "For Christ's sake, what the fuck do you think I'm doing now?"

Tagged Out...

I've been tagged by my buddy John at konichwa, bitches. I'm supposed to give eight random facts about myself and then tag eight other people. Unfortunately, I don't think I have eight friends who haven't already been tagged by some meme or another recently, so I don't think I can play along fully on this one.

I can, however, list eight random things about myself:

1. Brush with fame: Michael Chiklis (The Shield, Fantastic 4, etc.) said hello to me at Narita Airport in Tokyo about two years ago.


2. I can play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on every musical instrument known to humankind.


3. I was in grade 4 when I played my first game of organized hockey in a league in Winnipeg, Manitoba. I scored four goals and two assists. A "scout" from an "elite" team happened to see my game and invited me to play that evening with his team. My initial excitement was dampened by having to don the jersey of the hated Montreal Canadiens (I was born a Boston Bruins fan). This indignity had an adverse effect on my play, and to this day I blame the "curse of the Canadiens" for my ultimate failure to fulfill my destiny as a star player in the National Hockey League. Instead, I turned to a life of crime and debauchery which, of course, had only one logical end: teaching English at a university here in Japan. I'll see you in hell, Habs.


4. I lived in Germany for three years when I was a kid, and even attended kindergarten there. Apparently I used to make my mother sick with my habit of crossing the autobahn in order to get to the Canadian military base where my father worked. I did this because when I (4-years-old) arrived at the gate the guards would call my dad and he'd give me a ride back home... in a jeep! One day I got lost and wandered onto the American base by mistake. Paydirt! They drove me (in a jeep!) to the Canadian base, and from there my dad drove me home (in a jeep!).


5. When I was 17 I hitch-hiked from Truro, Nova Scotia to Medicine Hat, Alberta. I ran out of money in Medicine Hat, so I hung out there for a week. I hitch-hiked back to Truro when the drugs wore off and I started to get hungry.


6. I once dated a stripper (for about 6 weeks).


7. My only A+ grade in university came from a course in "existentialism". Talk about self-discovery...


8. My mother is fond of telling the following story about me: When I was about 5 she sent me to the corner store to buy a loaf of bread. I honestly don't remember this, but apparently when I found out that the store was sold out of bread I walked outside and threw the money away. I'd like to think that this story is true...

That's probably more than anyone needed (or wanted) to know about me...

One of these days...

One of these days I'll write a post in which I will, song by song, describe why Exile on Main St. is the greatest album in the history of the world. Until that time you'll just have to accept my very un-humble opinion on the subject (and really, if you'd just listen, you'd hear it anyway...). Dissenting views are welcome, of course, but will be treated with the scorn they deserve.

There's a new album by Richard Thompson, Sweet Warrior. that's really good. No, it's really fucking good.

I'm listening to Pearl Jam's first album, Ten. It's really fucking good, too.

So is the album In the Absence of Truth by Isis, if you like heavy stuff...

I also feel obliged to mention one of the greatest albums ever, Entertainment! by Gang of Four. If you don't know it, um, well, perhaps you should...

Greek of the Week

Just because I can...

...ὁ δὲ μὴ δυνάμενος κοινωνεῖν ἢ μηδὲν δεόμενος δι᾽
αὐτάρκειαν οὐθεν μέρος πὸλεως, ὥστε ἢ θερίον ἢ θεός

One who is unable to live in a community, or does not need to because he is self-sufficient, is no part of the polis, and is therefore either a beast or a god.

--Aristotle, Politics 1253a27-29

More in the days ahead...

Saturday Night's Alright

Disturbance Rocks Downtown Miyazaki

March 26, 2007 (Miyazaki)--Police are still trying to determine what sparked a disturbance in the downtown area during the wee hours of Sunday morning, amid reports of young women ripping off their clothing and running through the streets crying "Kyklops is teh shit!" The source of the disturbance appears to have been a small downtown bar operated and frequented by some of the less savory foreign elements in Miyazaki, and police have confirmed that on the night in question there was a live performance by a trio of Miyazaki's most notorious gaijin low-life. One of these characters, who is known only by the pseudonym "Kyklops", was placed on Japan's "most wanted" list last year when witnesses reported that he had stepped into a tatami room without first removing his shoes. He faces the death penalty if convicted of these charges, but to date police efforts to bring him into custody have been futile.

It is alleged that at some point during the trio's performance several young women began to swoon, clutching at their bodies and ripping their clothes off. "We're investigating the possible involvement of illegal substances," police spokesman Taro Suzuki told reporters. "What else could incite such behaviour in beautiful young Japanese women?" he added.

Anyone with information related to this incident or with knowledge of the whereabouts of the suspect "Kyklops" is urgently requested to contact their local police representative.