Afghanistan solution

It’s a waste of time sending soldiers to Afghanistan. Let’s face it, their ones are unbeatable. To overcome the fundamentalists it’s necessary instead to flood the country with free consumer goods: washing machines, toaster ovens, dishwashers and other labour-saving devices for the women, and plasma TV screens, sports channels, electric guitars, and computer games for the men. Two months later, airlift in masses of free fashion items such as blue jeans, baseball caps, t-shirts, high heels, leather jackets, etc. The Third Wave, if needed, would consist of vast shipments of free cola, pizza and ice cream.

No propaganda, no armies, no weapons – just tons of Western consumer stuff. The Taliban would be unable to withstand this massive cultural onslaught. The people of Afghanistan would naturally snap up the free goodies, and the insidious change would begin, with strict fundamentalist principles fatally weakened by a new ease and frivolity.  Best of all, this policy would make the West seem incredibly generous, while being considerably cheaper than sustaining a real war. 

Japan Travelogue

Having spent two weeks in Japan I can speak with great authority about the place, even if I didn't manage to visit everything (particularly regretting missing the steamed fishpaste museum in Hakone).

First surprise is that people are friendly, open, affable, even kind.  There is lots of smiling and laughing in public.  And all the bowing makes you feel like a minor celeb or royal every time you enter a shop.

Fabulously high-tech toilets, with heated seats, gears and buttons, and waterspout innovations not to be described here.  But no toilet brushes.  How did they miss that when conducting the years of research that must have gone into these machines?  Memo to visitors: bring your own.

It's a hugely convenient place.  Signs in English, maps everywhere, lots of taxis (often with uniformed drivers and lacy seat covers), snack shops, public toilets, and vending machines.

There really should be a sign at the airport saying 'Full', or 'Complet'.  Japan is built-up in a way that's hard even for city-dwellers to imagine.  The geography of the country is mostly mountainous, with the small amount of flat land inbetween crammed full of buildings.  For those of us accustomed to enjoying looking at the countryside out of a train window, it's quite a shock to see this sort of view for 300 miles at a stretch:

The arrangement of the buildings seems chaotic, typically something like: factory - shrine - apartment block - shed - minimart - restaurant - factory.  No planning laws here.

It's unsurprising that Japan is so intensely urban, having twice the UK's population in a country with half the landmass (and most of that mountains).  Apparently the Japanese are worried about their declining birthrate but this should at least give them some breathing space, unless they were intending to build cities on the mountains next.  (If the world was better arranged there would be a UN fund to pay the pensions of declining populations, as a reward for reducing the demand on the earth's resources.)

Despite being so full, Japanese cities are amazingly quiet.  After a while you work out why: nobody is using their car horn.  Try to imagine London or New York without the cacophany of angry horns day and night.  It's almost eerie.  And none of our yobbish shouts and drunken yelling on the streets, either.

Indeed it's clear that Japanese people have mastered the art of living together civilly in a tight space.  For example, pedestrians use city pavements in the same way as cars share the road, with a two-way flow obeying the rule 'keep left'.  (It's easy to be a rebel in Japan; walk on the right for a while.)  But as if to test social cohesion to its limit, cyclists are allowed onto the pavements too, even in downtown Tokyo, even at rush hour.  And they ride quite fast.  But somehow it works.  Try to imagine the bloodshed if this was introduced in the UK.

You're not allowed to use a mobile phone on any train.  This alone justifies a visit.

The streets are extremely tidy but there are very few litter bins; and everything you buy has 3 layers of plastic wrapping.  Where do they put it? 

Most people seem to speak a few words of English, and if menus and public signs are translated at all, it's into English.  There is a mildly malicious enjoyment to be had from hearing French tourists in the Far East struggling to speak English (and not even trying to use French).  It's even better to help them out by translating.  Tee hee.

Arising from the popularity of the English language in Japan, the discerning tourist can get much pleasure from the strange linguistic manglings to be seen on shop signs, adverts, and T-shirts.  These slogans were spotted on T-shirts in Kyoto:

•    The Charm to Me
•    Why don't you have a great smile when your heart goes down
•    Drift and Jumping
•    I love posh boy
•    Special you grant
•    Many classic moments deep into your lifestyle.

Some shop signs:

 And some advertising displays: 

 What a great country!

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The new Eurostar experience 

After all the laudatory write-ups in the press, it came as a real disappointment to use the new St. Pancras link to the continent.  Here is what the journalists on free trips forgot to tell us:

Harry the heron and his pals

A walk in Regents Park is an increasingly bizarre experience, due to the animals. I mainly blame the tourists, although there are enough nutty locals with huge bags of bread, who only encourage the bad behaviour of these creatures:

Squirrels, who brazenly approach you and panhandle for food.  I'm sure this didn't happen five years ago.  For some reason tourists think the little beasts are cute, and even pose for photos with them.  Don't they have squirrels at home?

The geese, who stand on the path looking tough.

The herons  are frankly scary.  These birds are supposed to be solitary and wary of humans but in the Park, they hang about in groups of 6 or 7, right by the main path. There is something unsettling in the way they shift from on foot to the other, never taking their eye off you.

The animal equivalent of hoodies.  (A hoody of herons?)




A fine pub bites the dust                                        Back to top

This was the Duke of Wellington in Marylebone, London:



It was an eccentric place, full of curious objects relating to the Iron Duke.  It was scruffy and cosy. At one time the local fly fishing club had a corner devoted to their activities, with a rod, landing net, and photos displayed. There was memorobilia all over the place and a fine collection of historic beer bottles dating back to the 60s. In short, it was one of the nicest local pubs in central London.  But now the landlord has gone, and the Duke has been completely gutted, turned into some witless clone bar, no doubt with loud music and expensive lager.  It's so sad and infuriating to see a piece of historic London bite the dust like this.  

I therefore call upon an eccentric millionaire to step forward and help us create The Pub Restoration Society, devoted to buying nasty modern pubs and turning them back to what they were in their prime, but slowly, by stealth.  Week 1, the music stops ('sorry lads, can't get the CD to work').  Next week, the spotlights are removed.  Then, the dartboard reappears.  The TV goes.  Bench seats come back in one corner, then another.  And so on, until everything is just as it should be.

Until then, we still have the traditional local The Golden Eagle, on Marylebone Lane in London W1.

pk_munroe@yahoo.com





How authors go mad                                        Back to top

A new author with a small publishing house should immediately be put on an At-Risk Register.  The danger is that they get the marketing bug and start increasingly outlandish schemes to shift copies of their book.  From personal experience, here are the symptoms:

Early stage 1
Furtively enters bookshops, hovers until the coast is clear, then dives in to re-arranges his/her own book for maximum prominence on the shelves.  This behaviour is so common among authors, both new and established, that it hardly merits a mention.  Unfortunately some people don't stop here. 

I wish I had a time-lapse camera covering the humour titles in Daunt Books (Marylebone High Street, London) where the books are so frequently 'author adjusted' that the book-buying public must be completely baffled.  It would be great to catch Robin Cooper (or possibly his mum) in the act.

Early stage 2
Boldly enters bookshops and asks if the book is in stock.  Doesn't check the shelves first.  If it's in stock, re-arranges on the shelf for maximum prominence (see Early Stage 1).  If it's not in stock, declines the offer to order the book - 'no thanks, I need it now'.  The idea is to make bookshop staff believe there is enough demand for the title to order some on spec.

Middle stage 1
Goes onto Amazon and pens reviews - not too gushing - under a false name.

Middle stage 2
Goes onto Amazon every day to check the book's rating.  Elated when it gets up to position 10,000; dashed when it falls below 200,000.  Spends considerable time wondering how these ratings are generated and discussing this with family and friends; in order to get a handle on it, seriously considers buying a copy of the book just to see what it does to the rating.

Middle stage 3
Goes onto Amazon every day, visiting the spot for his/her title in order to give Amazon the impression that the book is very popular.  (There is a well-known equivalent technique in fly-fishing, where the angler tries to tempt a big trout by continuously casting the same fly over the fish, to give it the impression that a hatch is going on.  It can work on fish.)

Severe stage 1
Purchases a copy of the book on Amazon to see how this will affect the rating.

Severe stage 2
Phones up a few independent bookshops to ask if they would consider stocking the book.  

Severe stage 3
Phones up a few Waterstone's bookshops to ask if they would consider stocking the book.  Wife/husband starts to express concern about obsessive behaviour.

Late stage
Wheedles extra copies of the book from the publisher, and sends them to people in the public eye, with a covering letter explaining why the book is just up their street.

Terminal stage 1
Spends late nights on the internet collecting email addresses of dozens of independent bookshops, and Waterstone's managers.  Sends carefully-crafted emails to ask if they would consider stocking the book.  Wife/husband complains loudly and often about obsessive behaviour.

Terminal stage 2
Seriously considers selling the book on the street, possibly from a barrow.  Wife/husband leaves.  Gives up day job in order to have more time to focus on marketing the book. 


pk_munroe@yahoo.com




Receipts mystery                                               Back to top

At the exact same moment that everyone else has woken up to environmental problems, the retailers are forcing receipts upon us for every trivial purchase.  You can't buy a cup of tea now without being given a (very large) receipt, which you then throw away.  This only started quite recently, didn't it?  Multiply it up by millions of people, every day, and we are probably onto our third landfill site devoted just to receipts for tea, coffee, and pies.

Are these food outlets misguidedly trying to help us to reclaim the cost (admittedly high) of cups of tea etc. from our employers, or spouses?  If so, they should turn it around and ask 'Do you want a receipt with that?', to which 99% of us will say no. 

Or is something else going on?  One clue is that some retailers are fierce about making sure we get a receipt.  Spotted at a pie shop :

The threat to their employees is very plain: "If the dimwit serving you makes a momentary error and fails to give you a receipt, you get free food - and we'll take it out of their wages."

What is going on here?  Is there some potential scam open to fast food workers which is foiled by issuing a receipt?  Retailers are always worried about 'shrinkage' (ie. disappearing pies), and since these items can't easily be shoplifted by customers, it must be the workforce who are under suspicion.  Can anyone advise?

pk_munroe@yahoo.com
 

 
 
Summer sport (1)  - Getting in people's holiday pictures      Back to top

When walking around a city in the Summer months, try to deliberately position yourself to appear in tourists' holiday photos.  It's easy.  A good way to ease yourself into this new activity is to walk slowly past one of those 'living statues', which are natural photo magnets.  Award yourself extra points for pulling a face. 

In theory there could be a prize for the person who appears most often in other people's photographs.  The enjoyment comes from imagining a situation where the tourist gets home and is showing their snaps around, and someone says:  "Hold on a minute, I'm sure I've seen that person in my photos, too..."




Summer sport (2)  - Carp baiting in Paris              Back to top

Next time you're in Paris and don't fancy queuing half the day for a museum or gallery, try an alternative entertainment.  Buy a baguette and head for one of the parks containing a pond or two.  The Tuilleries is particularly good for this.

These Paris ponds don't look too exciting, but they contain a hidden secret: Carp.  Some big ones, too.  Tear a few pieces of bread off your baguette and chuck them into the pond.  You may have to wait a while, putting up with the curious stares of Parisians and tourists, before you see any action.  But watch your bait, checking for swirls.  Trust me, the carp are in there.  Look out for any slightly darker shapes under the water, and chuck your bread pellets at them.

A sunny day seems to work best for carp-baiting.  It's a well-spent hour or two.  And some of the inhabitants are big.

pk_munroe@yahoo.com

Dumberplates                                              Back to top

I have set up a blog devoted just to the idiotic personalised car numberplates that plague London and the Home Counties.  It's at  http://dumberplates.blogspot.com/  Here are a few choice Plates of the Day I've collected:



pk_munroe@yahoo.com



Super Dim underwear                                            Back to top

Here's a product seen in a French supermarket:



The name 'Super Dim' probably means something sensible in French, so it will only become properly funny if we can persuade the manufacturer to import this brand into England, or get someone here to stock them.  I'll be writing to M&S shortly.
































































 

 

Posted @ 06:21:07 on 01 September 2007  back to top