Have you ever seen the movie “Lost in Translation”? Although the movie seems to exaggerate certain things about living in Japan, it does offer glimpses of how difficult life could be for someone who doesn’t know the language, not to mention the culture.

There was a time, in Akihabara, when I rode the elevator and was asked, “Dochira made desu ka?” – Where are you getting off? It would have been easier for me to respond had the person asked, “Nan-kai desu ka?” – What floor? “Kai” is the suffix used when counting floors. But in my haste, I answered, “Roku-sai desu.” “Sai” is the suffix used when counting age. Effectively, I told the person that “(I am) six years old.” Gaah. I should have said “Rokkai” instead, which would mean, “sixth floor.” When I realized my mistake I was so embarrassed that I wanted to get off the next floor and just take the stairs, hahaha. 😀

In fairness, there are many signs and instructions written in English, so a tourist in Japan won’t feel so lost as he/she weaves through the city. In train stations, all the station names are also written in “Romaji” or alphabet characters. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts, there are just too many English translations that are so bungled that they end up very confusing. And yes, most of the time, hilarious! That is why sites like Engrish.com never run out of supply.

For instance, consider this:

A position is the ground the first floor at present.

Ahm, which position are we talking about again?

Or how about this:

Teacher to student: Don’t mess with me now, I will and can use this against you!

Note, it’s not a pencil eraser; it’s a student eraser. 😀

Written in bold font is “WARNING: Stop using it for the cunning by writing rules on it.”

Actually, this is a warning for students to NOT write their kodigo on the eraser. Wow, that’s so cunning indeed.

Here’s another one:

For all your fleshy cravings. Absolutely not for vegetarians.

There is no “L” in Japanese language, so this is replaced with “R.” As a result, L’s and the R’s are usually confused and interchanged with each other. The day actually came when I myself began having difficulty saying “wonderful.” I tend to say “wandafuru” instead. Sigh. I’ve been in Japan for too long. 😛

Here’s a trivia quiz for you – can anyone figure out what is the equivalent English word of the following (those who are in Japan are exempted!):

1. Oraitto
2. Konpyuta
3. Bo-rupen
4. Panfuretto
5. Buranku

This is one of Aya’s most favorite experiments, maybe because it is really fun to mix liquids and watch them turn into different colors. Nowadays, when I ask her what an “acid” is, she immediately recalls the experiment and tells me, “It’s the one that makes the red cabbage juice turn red!” 🙂 (Break muna sa mga seryosong usapan, I’m lagging behind with the experiments! This one was done many months ago actually.)

For this experiment, you’ll need the following:
1. red cabbage
Side note: Aya argued that the “red” cabbage is actually “purple.” Are we color blind or something? Kids. Sigh.
2. 2 jugs
3. sieve
4. glasses
5. hot water
6. test substances: vinegar, lemon juice, bicarbonate of soda, etc.

First, Aya tears up the red cabbage and puts it into one of the jugs.

Hot water is poured into the jug to cover the cabbage. Let it stand for about 30 minutes. (Aya: “Hahh…tagal naman!”)

Strain the cabbage juice into the other jug. Side note: I had to help Aya with this because the water was still too hot!

Next, pour the cabbage juice into the glasses.

Add a test substance to each of the glasses. Here, Aya tests the bicarbonate of soda. Vinegar has already been added to one of the glasses, which turned the cabbage juice into bright red.

Experiment is done! Dami kulay, Nanay! Aya triumphantly poses for the camera to show off her results. 🙂

Explanation: Red cabbage contains a pigment molecule called flavin (an anthocyanin) which changes colors depending on the pH of the substance added to it. This makes it a good pH indicator, turning red when acid is added (e.g., vinegar, lemon juice, etc.) or dark blue when alkalis are added (e.g., bicarbonate of soda, antacid, etc.).

Kids and parents, try this at home! 🙂

Aya loves to sing. She learned her very first songs from us – Bahay Kubo, Leron Leron Sinta, among others. We made it a point to teach her Filipino folksongs and lullabies which we had also learned when we were children.

We even taught her to sing “Bayan Ko” (My Country) – just the chorus, though, the one that begins with “Ibong mang may layang lumipad…” Yes, really, seriously! Quite surprisingly, she learned to sing that song when she was only about 2 years old! Unfortunately, now she has difficulty recalling some of the words in that song, probably because she has learned many other songs, most of them from the daycare where she attends. I guess we should sing that song more often so she would never forget it.
One of Aya’s favorites is “大きな古時計 Ooki na furudokei,” which is the Japanese version of the popular song “My Grandfather’s Clock.” Actually I was not even familiar with this song – this is not popular in the Philippines at all. But Aya loves singing it at home, and would even sing it to herself at times (just don’t call her attention because she would immediately stop if she notices that people are listening to her).

So I wondered about the origin of this song, and I found a rather interesting background here. According to Wikipedia:

There are two competing theories as to the origin of the song. The most common relates to a wayfarers’ inn in Piercebridge on the border of Yorkshire and County Durham called the George Hotel. The hotel was owned and operated by two brothers called Jenkins, and in the lobby was an upright longcase clock. The clock kept perfect time until one of the brothers died, after which it lost time at an increasing rate, despite the best efforts of the hotel staff and local clockmakers to repair it. When the other brother died, the clock stopped, never to go again. It is said that in 1875 Henry Clay Work visited the hotel and based My Grandfather’s Clock on the stories he heard there. It is said that the song is responsible for the common name “grandfather clock” for what are properly called “longcase clocks.”

Touching, isn’t it?

Anyway, without further ado, here is Aya’s version of “Ooki na furudokei.” In this audio clip, first you would hear her talking to me in Tagalog, then she would sing the song in Japanese. Towards the end, she said, “Thank you very much for Aya’s sing.” 😛 Ooops. I have yet to train her to speak grammatically correct English. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the song. She did a pretty good performance! But of course, I’d say that because I’m her mom. 🙂

[podcast: “uploads/Podcast/1-28-07.mp3”]

Here are the lyrics in English.
My grandfather’s clock
Was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half
Than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn
Of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.

CHORUS:
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum
Swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood
The clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four
When he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS

My grandfather said
That of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time,
And had but one desire,
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place,
Not a frown upon its face,
And its hand never hung by its side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS

It rang an alarm
In the dead of the night,
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit
Was pluming his flight,
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time,
With a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS

I got this article from an email sent by a friend. This comes at an opportune time, because I have been thinking of making a personal list of all the wonderful things I love about the Philippines. How often do we come across positive viewpoints like this?

One of the Philippines’ hidden faces. Photo of Loboc River in Bohol (October 2004).

When I was a child, some of my relatives who lived in the States would return home for brief “balikbayan” (homecoming) visits. The stories they shared were always overflowing with undulating praises for their adopted country, the proverbial land of milk and honey. And they would often remark that “nothing has changed” in the Philippines since they last left it: it was just as filthy, hot, polluted, and just as worth leaving a hundred times over. We were admonished to try our darnedest to find ways to leave the country, not unless we wanted to rot together with the rest of the unfortunate souls. My dad was unemployed and my mom was an elementary public school teacher. What my mom earned in a year, they could easily earn in a month. As if to rub it in our faces, someone even emphatically told us, “Dollar is power!” which was to mean that if you earned dollars, you are powerful. It didn’t even matter that the said dollar might have been earned by doing the work that other people actually despised. I have nothing against anyone’s type of work – no matter how menial. A hard-earned dollar is the same as any; my problem is with the attitude of some people who think that just because they earn dollars, then they are above the ones who don’t.

Sure, they were entitled to their own opinion about the country. But I resented it because in my young mind, it was impressed on me that somehow living in the country was synonymous to living in hell. All they ever saw was the poverty, corruption, pollution, and the countless problems in Philippine society. What made it even worse was that the criticisms came from people I personally knew — Filipinos, just like me. It made me feel bad and insecure about myself and my family.

Please read on below the full article. I found that this has also been posted at the Good News Pilipinas site. I believe that every Filipino should read this!

—-
The Hidden Face of the Philippines
By Bob Kemerait

The day after the mudslide on the island of Leyte in the Philippines was reported in the United States, I received a worried phone call from a colleague here at the University of Georgia. Tim had seen footage of the tragedy on the evening news. Though unsure where in the Philippines it had occurred, he was concerned that my wife Pam’s family had been caught up in the event. I thanked him for his concern and responded that I was confident Pam’s family wasn’t involved. Pam grew up in Los Baños, Laguna and her home, although close to a dormant volcano called Mt. Makiling, is not prone to mudslides. Over the next week my assurance to Tim was repeated to many other friends and colleagues who were concerned for Pam. I was grateful that they cared enough about her family to ask for clarification. On long solitary drives across Georgia that week, I had plenty of time to think about this latest tragedy in the Philippines and to ponder its implications.

My first realization was that good news from the Philippines is rarely reported in the United States and that most Americans know very little about this archipelago that is a nation. Our countries have shared a very close history over the past 100 years; the Philippines was a protectorate of the United States for nearly 50 years after the conclusion of the Spanish-American War. American soldiers fought and died alongside Filipino troops in the battles against the Japanese in World War II. Strategic American air and naval bases were maintained in the Philippines until the early 1990’s. Despite the political, economic, cultural, and social bonds, the typical American is still woefully uninformed about the Philippines. More importantly, the little that is known paints a picture of this country that is, at best, skewed, and at worst perpetuates regrettable stereotypes of the culture and citizens.

The printed and network news that reach the American public largely shape our view of the world. If I were to take guess at the most common perceptions Americans have of the Philippines, they would be as follows, not necessarily in any particular order.

• The Philippines is a nation of continual natural disasters, such as mudslides, volcanic eruptions, and super typhoons.
• The Philippines is largely a nation of man-made disasters and problems such as sinking ferries, deforestation, poverty (e.g. the human nightmare that is Smokey Mountain), and the ongoing political unrest and turmoil.
• The fact Americans are most likely to know about the Philippines would involve 3000 pairs of shoes from Malacañang Palace.
• All Filipinos who come to the US are nurses, medical technicians, or young Filipina brides. (In truth, these are but a part of the diverse group of Filipino immigrants, often highly educated and motivated, who come to the US seeking better lives and opportunities.)
• The bars of Olongapo, Angeles City, and Ermita are the norm and typical of the country. (In fact, much of this has changed in all three locations.)
• The only history Americans may know of the Philippines are related to the Bataan Death March and Douglas MacArthur’s famous line of “I shall return”.
• Danger from the Abu Sayyaf and the fate of the Burnhams (missionaries) await the tourist at every turn.
• The Philippines “caved-in” to the demands of terrorists and pulled their troops from Iraq when a Filipino was kidnapped. (Most Americans do not realize how vulnerable vast numbers of Filipino overseas workers across the Middle East are to abuse and terrorist attacks. The government in the Philippines can do little to protect them.)

Although each of the above points does have some basis in fact, they do not accurately portray this island nation with its rich, colorful, and very diverse cultural heritage and a people for who warm hospitality and lasting friendships are a way of life. I believe that creating an image and reality of the Philippines based upon the perceptions above would be the same as defining the United States as a land of gang violence, drug abuse, obesity, and lack of regard or consideration for anything that is not “American”.

Because my wife is from the Philippines, I have had the opportunity to be immersed in Filipino culture here at home and on visits to her home in Los Baños. As I was thinking about the stereotypes of the Philippines that are prevalent in the US, I also thought about my own perceptions of the Philippines and Filipino culture. When I recall memories and thoughts about all things “Pinoy”, I envision the following.

• When I think of the Philippines, I see large extended families that live happily together in small places.
• I think of large families that remain not only physically close, but emotionally close as well.
• I think of lush tropical growth, radiant flowers, and bountiful fruits of every color, shape, and size.
• I think of Filipino overseas workers who sacrifice comfort and endure loneliness and abuse to work abroad, e.g. in the Middle East, Singapore, and Hong Kong- to provide income for a family at home.
• I think of the smell of fried garlic, fried fish, and fried daing (small dried fish) wafting from the kitchen.
• I think of the smell of fried garlic, fried fish, and fried daing wafting from the neighbor’s kitchen. (Both because of the close proximity of the homes and because of the hospitality where one is welcomed and expected in the neighbor’s home.)
• I think of barkadas (a group of very close friends), potluck dinners, and LOTS of merienda (mid-afternoon snacks).
• I think of colorful jeepneys, tricycles and the impatient, restless sounds of passing traffic.
• I think of brightly colored bandanas pressed tightly to the noses and mouths of pedestrians.
• I think of the solitary cry of “Taho!!” (a soybean curd beverage) coming from out on the street early in the morning.
• I think of the warm smiles, courtesy, cheerful bantering, and “Hey, Joe!s” of children and locals as I walk through Los Baños.
• I think of wet markets full of fresh pork, chicken, and fish, and stalls brimming with vegetables, mangos, pineapples, and other tropical fruits.
• I think of boys walking with an arm over their buddies’ shoulders and girls walking hand-in-hand.
• I think of a country obsessed with cell phones but rarely see anyone talking on one!
• I think of heat and humidity and rain.
• I think of San Miguel (national beer), fighting cocks, buko pies, and Jollibee.
• I think of ice cream with strange colors and exotic flavors like ube (purple yam), cheese, and macapuno (a soft form of coconut).
• I think of exuberant children everywhere.

My thoughts of the Philippines rarely overlap with common perceptions from those Americans whose knowledge of the archipelago is limited to what appears on television or is printed in the newspaper. Sure, as in any country, there are serious problems in the Philippines. In fact, the problems facing the Philippines are so severe that one must wonder if the country can ever truly overcome them. However, it is my experience that the richness of the culture, the warmth of the people, and the sheer beauty of the land and sea overshadow these problems in my memory.

I wish that more people in the United States could visit the Philippines and share in a culture and people that have enchanted and embraced me. Better understanding of each culture would ensure close relations and cooperation between two proud nations for the future. Without question, Americans visiting the Philippines would be warmly welcomed and enjoy a destination of great exotic appeal. Such an experience would soon show that the face of the Philippines is revealed not simply the mud and destruction in Leyte, but more importantly in the spirit of the Filipino people, as among those who mourn the loss of loved ones and those who worked tirelessly to free the victims.

Bob R. C. Kemerait, Ph.D.
Department of Plant Pathology
University of Georgia
Rural Development Center, Tifton
(229) 386-7495

As the title says, this is my first attempt to podcast in this blog. Pardon the “ahm, ahm…” in between words and the uncontrollable laughters. Obviously, we’re just a bunch of crazy people having a cool time experimenting with the media. But promise, I’ll follow this up with something better and more comprehensible next time. In the meantime, take a break and enjoy. With cool music from my most favorite music genre, none other than the 80s. Oops, that sort of reveals my age, huh? 🙂

[podcast: “uploads/Podcast/1-25-07.mp3”]

I got tagged again, this time by Prab. I’ve already seen this meme making the rounds of the blogs I frequently visit, and I was actually hoping that I would get away with this. 😛 Not a chance.

So let me see, what has blogging brought into my life?

1. I’ve gained friends – and that includes you, dear reader!
It might be surprising for others to know that I have been blogging (albeit in relative secrecy) for the past couple of years. Honestly, I never really thought of blogging as a way to make friendly connections on the wired world. Fortunately, one day I woke up and found that it would actually be more fun to be involved in networks in the blogosphere. Needless to say, I am happy to be part of the happy blogosphere family. Ang saya-saya! 😀

2. I’ve gained weight.
As much as I would like to openly deny this, I feel that I am running out of room for excuses (like, I look fat because I am wearing LAYERS of clothing underneath – or – it’s the HAIR. It makes me look puffy, or poofy, to borrow Manny the mammoth’s defensive argument in Ice Age). Just recently, somebody had the temerity to ask my husband if I was on the family way. GRRR! I’m not pregnant; I’ve just turned into a blogger! Now that’s what I get for sitting in front of the PC for hours on end!

There’s only one thing to tell these people: “I may be fat, but you’re ugly, and I can lose weight.” Bah!

3. I’ve rekindled my love for writing.
For the last ten years or so of my life, I have only been writing technical papers – as required by the job, you know. But there are so many ways where technical writing differs from creative writing. Once in a while, it is liberating to just write as you feel like writing, without any regards for logic, consistency, or convincing my readers about my results. I can write as I want.

4. I’m getting too contemplative about my being a Filipino.
A quick look at some of my posts like Japanese habits worth emulating by Filipinos and Pacquiao fever may give you the impression that I’m getting some kind of sadistic enjoyment from my Filipino bashing. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m proud to be a Filipino, and I’m proud of my country. On top of that, I want my country and countrymen to be great. To do that, we have to correct what is wrong in ourselves, and strive for greatness. My being in a foreign land adds a whole new dimension to this contemplativeness. It is true that some realizations are only revealed to you when you view them from afar.

And last but certainly not the least:

5. I’ve come to grips with my father’s death.
As I said in a previous post, personal circumstances have profoundly influenced my blogging activities. After my Daddy died, I had to deal with a huge vacuum, made worse by having to return to Japan where there were no relatives to comfort me nor share my grief. Sure, there were friends. But they can only do so much (would an email saying “I’m sorry to hear about your loss” suffice?) At that time, Baggy was still in Osaka and was only with us every other weekend.

So my grief was mine alone. It took its bittersweet time, and I had to find a way to handle it. As a scientist, I tried to rationalize. But how on earth can you make sense of the death of a loved one? Tell me, can you just say, “It’s bound to happen” and go on and feel better about everything? My earliest posts were about my Daddy, and every now and then I would still mention him or how he had influenced my life.

In this way, blogging helped me to sort out my emotions and thoughts. In more ways than one, it helped me to recover from this traumatic episode in my life.

So there you go. At this point I believe that I have to tag someone else, but I am one of those who are riding the last ripples of the wave to the shore. Or simply put, most everyone I know has been tagged already, haha. Anyway, if you would like to do this meme for me, feel free to do so. Just leave a comment somewhere so I can visit your blog and find out what you have written. 🙂

以上です。- That is all.

Tell me what your toilet habits are, and I will tell you who you are.

I was in the ladies’ room, minding my own business, when I heard someone flushing in the next cubicle. Whooosh, whooosh, whooosh! It’s the sound of flushing, and the flushing lever had been pulled down three times in succession. Three times! How many times does one need to flush human filth down the toilet? Inspite of myself, I couldn’t help but count how many times the person had already flushed, thinking of all the volumes of water going down the drain.

There was a pause. Then suddenly, another whooosh! Ok, enough already! I silently cursed. Think of all the water that’s being wasted, woman! Images of filthy toilets unflushed because of clogged pipes, inadequate water supply or poor water pressure flashed in my mind, as I recalled how things could be back in my country. Back home, one would always find large waste baskets in toilets, simply because nobody should ever flush toilet papers down the toilet. This is a horrid act with dire consequences! Ever watched Ben Stiller in “Along Came Polly”? Aha, now you get the picture. In most public toilets in the Philippines, used toilet papers usually go into the waste basket, not into the toilet. Eww, I know. And this is a rule that I always tend to forget whenever I visit home. I tend to forget that we don’t always have the luxury of efficient toilet flushing systems.

The Sound Princess. But why sounds of flushing water? Why not play Vivaldi instead?

But here in Japan, where water is abundant and toilets flush the way they should, flushing with wanton abandon has been used as a way to “hide” the sounds of “bodily functions.” Here in Japan, women are “very embarrassed by the sounds they make in a toilet.” According to a site I found:

“The Japanese are notoriously fastidious: the daily bath is practiced with near-religious fervor, and walking inside with your shoes on is considered filthy. The Japanese word for clean – “kirei” – also means beautiful.

And what happens in a bathroom stall is, well, among the dirtiest things that humans do.

Going to the toilet has been considered embarrassing and even shameful for women since ancient times in Japan, said Noriji Suzuki, a parasitologist at Kochi University Medical School.

“Sometimes you see people talking to each other over a stall in Western countries, but that would never happen in our culture,” he said.”

More interesting bits of information about toilets and toilet behavior in Japan can be found here.

Fortunately, there are already gadgets like “Oto-Hime” (literally translated as “Sound Princess”) which are now installed in most modern public toilets. Instead of actually flushing the toilet to mask the sound, all you have to do is activate the gadget, usually by placing your hand over the sensor, and it will play a recorded sound of water flushing. And yes, it’s loud enough to cover even the loudest fart you’ll ever make. 🙂 I’ve used these on occasion, especially when I know that the cubicle next to mine is occupied by another person. Unfortunately, one may not always find this in public toilets, particularly in old buildings and establishments. And thus the water flushing habit continues. I think that this is a rather odd cultural behavior. And it’s really not environment-friendly.

Personally I don’t think that the sounds while I perform my “bodily functions” are embarrassing for me – but as a courtesy to the other persons, I use the Oto-Hime. Or in the absence of such a gadget…well, I beat my chest and sing “My Way” to the top of my lungs. Nah, just kidding. C’mon, I’m a Filipino, so I know how to improvise — anything else but flushing precious water down the toilet.

Actually, I only found out about this behavior years after coming here. When I finally realized what those gadgets were for, I could only shake my head at the thought of having made all those junkets to the toilet without any attempts of hiding the sounds. So when the time came around, I oriented my sister about the existence of the Oto-Hime, what it does, and why it is there. However, I never really had the chance to show her what it actually looked like. I just told her that she could find it in the ladies’ room. One time, out of curiosity, she explored the buttons she found inside the public toilet, hoping to find the Oto-Hime I told her about. She found a button, and pressed it.

Nothing happened. There were no sounds. Thinking that she must have pressed the wrong button, she dismissed it. A few minutes later, somebody knocked on her door. When she opened it, there was a guard standing outside. Uh-ohh…what did I do wrong now? she thought.

It turned out that the button she pressed was for emergency calls. Poor sister! The guard realized at once that it was no emergency, just another clueless “gaijin” who made a mistake. She made a quick bow and promptly exited. We all enjoyed a good laugh at that incident. I told her, “Only in Japan, my dear, only in Japan.”

Last weekend, I happened to watch “Constantine,” starring Keanu Reeves, over the Movie Channel in Skyperfect tv. Actually I have already watched the movie on DVD, but it was fun just the same watching it all over again.

Watch a clip from the movie here:

First of all, notice that in the kitchen, next to the whistling kettle on the stove, hanging on the wall is a small Philippine flag (red and blue, with a white triangle, for those who don’t know what a Philippine flag looks like :)). Then, as John Constantine finished whispering into the possessed girl’s ears, she responded:

“Pa-pa-ta-yin na-tin si-yaahhhhhh!” This is Tagalog, a dialect in the Philippines. It is also referred to as “Filipino,” after it was made into the country’s national language. Translated, it means: “We will kill him!” “Siya” could refer to a woman or man, but in this case it’s obvious as to whom it was being addressed.

After the demon-busting business by Constantine is finished, the girl’s mother and relatives (?) rushes to her and babbles in another foreign language, but only now it doesn’t sound like Tagalog anymore. Sounds more like Chinese to me. So is the girl supposedly “Chinese,” but possessed by a Tagalog-speaking demon?

Why Tagalog? Go figure!

The old adage goes: “Early to sleep, early to rise. Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” My dad was one of those early risers, and as he grew older the earlier he went to bed, and the earlier he woke up than the rest of us. He was like an alarm clock – if we asked him to wake us up at 4 am, by 3:30 he would be waking us up. It really made me wonder if he had an internal clock that sets off as soon as his brain tells it to. And how I wish I could do the same. Unfortunately, I tend to sleep late and likewise, wake up late.
In our parent-teacher consultation session, Aya’s sensei at the daycare actually recommended to me that I put Aya to bed as early as 9 am, and wake her up at 6:30 am. That way, she will have a full night’s sleep, have enough appetite for lunch, etc — in other words, regulate her daily cycle. Unfortunately, for her to wake up at 6:30 means that I have to be awake at that time as well. Good grief. The earliest I can wake up these days is 7 am, and even then you can find me begging for at least 15 minutes to languish in bed before I actually get up. So instead of getting to the daycare on time, we always find ourselves arriving half an hour later than most of them. It’s embarrassing, I know. But unlike the Japanese we take our showers in the morning, and that consumes time. Di baleng late basta mabango. 🙂

So long, and thanks for all the sausages.

Interesting read from Nature, written by Jeff Crook. “Adam” ponders about the existence of life in other planets, interplanetary travel, and their effect on religion in his conversation with a “Nordic man.”

Consider this monologue from Adam:

“So, as I was saying, Revelations and all the other Armageddon philosophies,” Adam continued. “I mean, if there are other worlds out there where a man… being… whatever… can be born, live and die without ever setting foot on Earth, that kind of pulls the end-timers’ teeth, doesn’t it? Without an end-times in which sinners are judged and the righteous rewarded, Western religion becomes rather pointless. God destroys the world — big deal. Sure, a few billion people die, but in the big picture, it’s a minor occurrence. Planets explode every day, am I right? Whole star systems go nova, trillions of intelligent life forms wiped out in the twinkling of an eye, no matter how moral or immoral they are or were. It’s physics, and a lack of sufficiently advanced technology to detect the impending Armageddon and/or to escape it by fleeing their doomed planet.”

Sounds like the story of the planet Krypton, doesn’t it? If only all survivors would turn out to be Supermen, haha.

Just some food for thought for you guys to start the week. Want a beer or something? 🙂 Read the full text here.