In order to make an Apple Pie...

In order to make an apple pie...

Clichéd I know, I also don't care. I seized the chance to test out my rib recipe, which I didn't even have created until Friday the 13th at about 4:30 PM. usually to be a good chef you have to follow the rules to then be allowed to break the rules, but I've never followed the rules and I'm a good chef, and the only rule I've followed is 'red means hot'. Everything else to cooking isn't sacred to me, never has been, that's why I whipped up the currently secret recipe of 'Pawesum Soz' my BBQ rib sauce which contains a whopping +25% Alc. Yeah... It should of course be no surprise that that due to that fact and my methods of extreme care taken in cooking my ribs where a friend of mine said 'I'm waiting for you to start massaging them' wound up winning me the cook-off for my squadron. believe me, I'd LOVE to work as a chef, but I couldn't innovate unless given the chance, thing is all I do is innovate, recipes are sins to me....unless it's baked goods, that would just end badly.... let's leave how to our collective imaginations then shall we?

(insert gratuitous pictures of meat)

Mine are in the lower right corner.

Anyway, because of my innate cooking abilities, yes I'm bragging, and my Pawesum Soz, I'll be competing at the base level for $1,000.00 USD for my squadron, here's hoping that these are awesome enough to win it. Even if I don't win, second place would be fine, never really done any sort of a cook-off before, and I don't know whether I'm still drunk on the sauce, or my ego has swelled to gargantuan proportions, but I'll do the best I can and try to win it.

speaking of doing the best I can, well here's hoping the future proceeds according to the plans of whatever mysterious stranger is at my back, be it an angel, a chief, a colonel, general, or god himself... I couldn't tell you how many chances I've had all I know is that I've well exceeded my second. I don't know whether to laugh, cry, be thankful, or to become paranoid and believe that I'm some plaything of fate living in a castle in the sky. and if all we are playthings of beings dwelling in castles in the sky why has nobody noticed? Are we so tied up in lemon drops and gumdrops that we can't recognize the sugar floss binging us to the paper cone that is reality? I know, strange analogy, but I'm in a very strange state of mind right now, I have no clue if I should be relieved, hopeful, or keep up my typical cynical veneer? well cynicism has served me well thus far so I'll just wait to see in which direction the great taffy puller moves me.

Ok, enough with the ham fisted candy analogies...there's a mental image! Ham fisted candy....

I'll just keep my typical cynical self as the primary front and just plan for both outcomes, and of course the un-seeable third and fourth, whatever happens the future will be fun. And I'll try to stay upbeat about anything I do between now and then, whenever then is. Isn't that the one all encompassing question? What happens then? that has to be it doesn't it? What happens when we do, move, learn, love, laugh, and die. What happens then? does it really need to be such a metaphysical question or can it be something so rooted in the stone of logic that nothing can effectively grasp it? Perhaps not even then, maybe it doesn't need to be grasped, or what we can perceive is so massive that to us it's immovable and all encompassing, but to the next level there is something else? I'm reminded of the world tree, Yggdrasil, it grew with its branches encompassing Asgard, Midgard rooted around the middle, and Hel near the bottom. To what then was Yggdrasil rooted? As the 34 stanza of the Poetic Edda states "on that tree of which no man knows where it's roots run" begs the question, if the world as we know it is supported by Yggdrasil, what supports it? Which to me begs the question and simply put, 'Once we have perceived all the universe what then?" That is the question of which I speak. as Carl Sagan said "in order to make an apple pie, you must first create the universe", as far as I'm concerned that can be taken to mean that you can't understand anything without understanding everything.

Take from this what you will about me, but I hold no illusions about the future, the present, or the past, after all to grasp the concept of an illusion you must first grasp the concept of reality, and when things are so fleeting, so ephemeral as to said that they barely matter or have barely existed at all, can you honestly say that you know what reality is when you're bound to only one form?

Differences

Things really have changed here over the last few months, and no, this isn’t more navel gazing or self-reflection. As you all know the 9.0 earthquake and tsunami struck the northern coast of japan closer to two months ago and while things have returned to a slight sense of normalcy, at least in places, in others the differences are profound. Last weekend I went down to Shibuya as I will every so often to take pictures of the city, the sights, sounds and people. At first glance things did appear to be normal, thousands of people crammed into a very busy intersection with people running in all directions at once, groups of friends gathering, chatting, or just chilling. You wouldn’t think that anything negative would have occurred such a short time ago. So I walked around taking lots of pictures visible here http://www.flickr.com/photos/58409124@N03/ http://verseless-photography.com/ http://www.verseless.deviantart.com/

Note, none of them, or at least very few, are actually of the city, that’s for a reason. Sundown finally came and I set up my camera at about 15 till, and I start to look around expecting the lights to come on any second hoping to get some great pictures of the city and people. Maybe a few nice low light shots. Possibly a good spontaneous portrait or two. The sun goes down behind the labyrinthine cityscape, the last copper hues of the sunset fading into….dark? The city was dark, for Shibuya anyway. The closest comparison that I can give to it would be like standing in Times Square and all of the billboards, all of the video screens, were turned off. And that’s exactly it, all of the video screens, all of the advertisements, the brighter streetlights, even shop lights were deactivated to save power. Now, I am unsure of the exact state of the infrastructure here in japan right now, but I know that since the Fukushima Daiichi plant got hit life appears to be at least a little less colorful in Tokyo.

People have been through worse in the world, and thankfully Tokyo just seems to be rationing power, no daytime lighting on the trains, or air conditioning at all, no heated seats either, small little conveniences that I’d begun to take for granted now no longer evident in anyone’s lives. Might just be my observation, who knows, maybe they’re flawed, that could be. But to see all of those bright, comforting, and saturating lights and sights just gone….it made me feel like something had been lost. It made me remember that everything we’re doing to help these people will actually have an effect. It may be years, it may be decades but to see Shibuya return to its former shining glory will be worth it at some point. A transformation has taken place in the nation of Japan and they’ll never be the same. The lights will eventually return, the glitz and glamour will be back to inspirational levels at some point, but for now things are subdued if only in some degree.

I wouldn’t say that any of this has been inspirational though, that word just doesn’t cut it, to apply such a finite word to a series of events such as these, to apply such a word to the relief effort that started the day it happened, the month of nonstop support that numerous nations provided and continue to provide still, the coming together of branches of numerous militaries, raid organizations, and even firefighters from all across the globe coming together to forge a cohesive response force well within a month to help these people, is not inspirational. It… is… legendary. It’s not about medals, news coverage, a renewed sense of responsibility, strong senses of pity, regret, conscience, or anything like that. It’s that almost jubilant feeling of pride you get hearing that perhaps barely intelligible ‘thank you’ from people that genuinely have many things to be thankful for. I’ve only ever personally received the smallest part of that, one lone man telling me that we’re ‘big hero country, thanks for what you do.’ I can only imagine the kind of thanks that rescue workers deserve and received when they helped those directly affected by the tsunami.

If you’re coming here don’t expect all the ultramodern conveniences that have been touted for years, even some basic amenities are still hurting, come here expecting the warm reception of a thankful nation and from those truly in need. If you’re leaving here, like me, then I hope that you’ve received a sense of pride that you’ll never forget. Those who leave may go on to do great things, but remember, the greatest thing that one can hope to accomplish is to have been deserving of a simple ‘thank you’ from one you’ve helped however indirectly.