Log (page 1)
This is the “blog” bit. All the wanky introspective stuff you’d expect – I’ll even try and throw in the odd post apologising for not blogging regularly. Seriously.
MMIX
(because everyone else is.) What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before? etc. [898 words]
あなた
This is by way of a lead-in to a post on identity and labels I have percolating.
Japanese manners of address are fascinating, because they contain so much information. Usually, a person is addressed with some combination of name and descriptive suffix.
The suffixes express relationships (and, incidentally, power dynamics), with examples (and rough meanings) like san (Ms/Mr), sensei (teacher), senpai (senior), oniisan (older brother), chan (cute wee thing), or kun (little buddy.)
There’s also a solid hierarchy of formality → intimacy. From least to most intimate:
- Family name, suffix (Wilson-san)
- Given name, suffix (Matt-san)
- Given name (Matt)
- “you” (あなた, anata)
Anata is usually reserved for the closest of intimate partners – spouses or lovers. Given names with no prefix are for romantic partners and, perhaps, very close friends. Family names with a suffix are the default, first names with a suffix for good friends. (English obviously has parallels with use of titles, given names etc.; Japanese just makes it a little more apparent.)
The thing I find most interesting about all of this is that the more intimate the form of address, the less information is carried.
The more intimate the situation or relationship, the less cultural notions of identity seem to matter.
If you don’t know someone well, you address them in a way that makes explicit your mutual status, and in terms of their family. If you know them a little better, you still define them by status, but no longer by their family. (Names also carry cultural implications – “a good family,” “a noble name” etc.) And in the most intimate situations, there are no labels, no carried meaning, nothing more than the other person’s self.
Women in the News
First, this article, headlined “Women caught drink-driving overnight”
…although, as it turns out, it wasn’t only women. In fact:
Police pulled over 7524 cars at checkpoints in Manukau and Papakura overnight. In total, 81 drivers would be making court appearances, facing charges of excessive breath alcohol. Thirty-two of those caught were women, Inspector Heather Wells said.
So, a little less than 40% of those caught were women. Perhaps a better headline would have been “More women than usual caught drink-driving, but still fewer than the number of men.” Although we don’t even know that it’s more than usual, as the only ‘stat’ is the less-than-useful “years ago, it was just men were dumb enough to drink drive, but this appears to be changing.”
Secondly, an unpleasant little dose of blame-the-victim in “Celeb sex victim ‘angry’ at name suppression”:
The girl [the victim of the attack], now 17, said she had been subjected to cruel and untrue stories about her reputation since the court case.
…and:
“Afterwards, the police rang me and said that the musician was offering $200 to go towards a charity,” she said.
“They suggested I should ‘have some compassion’. My dad went berserk about that.”
I just love that. “They suggested I should ‘have some compassion’.” You know, for the guy who shoved his junk in an unwilling 16-year-old girl’s face. The dude just needs some love and understanding, people.
Morality, Compassion and the Sociopath
‘First, sociopaths are driven by unsentimental observation of external realities, no matter how unpleasant. Second, they use the information they acquire through reality-grounding in skilled ways. Third, their distrust of subsuming communities and groups leads them to adopt personal moralities. Whether good or evil, the morality of a sociopath is something he or she takes responsibility for.’ [356 words]
This makes me angry
Cop forced prostitute into sex:
Nathan Thorose Connolly, a former Christchurch policeman, is on trial for extorting free sex from a prostitute – on several occasions in the back of his patrol car. […]
He told her he could give her $1000-worth of fines for her unwarranted and unregistered car.
He did not fine her but rather took her in his marked police car to a cemetery in Belfast where they had sex.
In case that isn’t bad enough by itself, there’s this:
The defence would say that the complainant agreed to the sex and enjoyed it because it was “kinky” having sex with a policeman.
Connolly never said anything threatening and the prostitute never asked for money, Eaton said.
Because, you know, the threat of $1000 worth of fines hanging over your head is “kinky” rather than “blackmail.” And oh, sorry, it can’t be a threat because “he never said anything threatening.” What the fuck.
Double-vision
A pair of computer-generated T-Rexes.
Last Rites
God made mud.
God got lonesome
So God said to some of the mud, “Sit up!”
“See all I’ve made,” said God, “the hills, the sea, the sky, the stars.”
And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look around.
Lucky me, lucky mud.
I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done.
Nice going, God!
Nobody but You could have done it, God! I certainly couldn’t have.
I feel very unimportant compared to You.
The only way I can feel the least bit important is to think of all the mud
that didn’t even get to sit up and look around.
I got so much, and most mud got so little.
Thank you for the honour!
Now mud lies down again and goes to sleep.
What memories for mud to have!
What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met!
I loved everything I saw!
Good night.
I will go to heaven now.
I can hardly wait…
To find out for certain what my wampeter was…
And who was in my karass…
And all the good things our karass did for you.
Amen.– The Last Rites of Bokononism, from Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle
Shadow Unit
“Brady flicked Lau a glance of his own, as tightly packed as a .zip file.” [241 words]
Intersection of High, Manchester and Lichfield Streets, Christchurch, 8 May 1923
Pelorus Sound, between 1923-1928
