Brand me? Brand *this*

On a lark, I signed up for a “BrandYourself” account a few weeks ago.

I’d read about it via a Quartz link and was curious. I’ve been living outside the US Culture Bubble for about two decades now, so I’ve largely missed the “OMG my employer is checking my SNS posts” terror that (apparently) has been sweeping the nation.

My first BrandYourself warning: You have 738 Risk Factors!

OMG. What were they? Was I really putting myself at risk? Continue reading

Starving the smartphone addiction

It’s been six weeks since I decided to take a break from Facebook. Back in mid-January I took a screenshot to show students how to figure out which apps they used the most (Line, by far, in case you’re wondering, followed by YouTube… not surprisingly, since my students are all Japanese).

It was a little shocking to see that I was spending over 8 hours a week on FB on my iPhone. My train commute is about an hour and a half each way, and I go to campus four days a week. So basically I spent 2/3 of my train time looking at FB posts.

Yuck. What a waste of reading time. Continue reading

A post about nothing in particular

Is it wrong to post something when nothing’s really been going on?

Well, not exactly nothing nothing. What I mean is, nothing particularly special.

Just work, family, day to day routines.

Influenza. Type B. (Not me, my daughter.)

Preparing materials for class. Doing it again. And again.

Trying to write. Failing epically. Zoning out on YouTubes on Ancient Greece and the Hittites (I’m on a big Hittite kick right now for some reason).

Finally getting to see the new Blade Runner at a friend’s house on Bluray (with kids it’s almost impossible to watch movies I want to see).

Practicing guitar for the first time in nearly a year. Then doing it every day a week straight. For 10 minutes at a time. (Before being told “Daddy, that’s noisy.”)

Yeah. Nothing in particular. Just life, I guess.

Space seeds: fruits of our labor?

In my blog about child-care and child-raising, I’ve written about cooking food with my kids and growing vegetables in our backyard garden. I grew up in a small countryside village (total pop. of about 3,000 if you include the three-quarters of the county that the township comprises), so this meant lots of land that could be used for growing green things. At home in Japan, I’ve tried to recreate what I can of my childhood backyard; that said, it’s of course impossible given that my parents’ land is at least four times the size of my property (even in rural Japan, land is not cheap, and often not even for sale).

Try to image this scene on Mars…outside a greenhouse…

 

No doubt this is a main reason why I chose to include a scene in Approaching Twi-Night where the main character’s family relationships are first described by his meeting his father and brother in their backyard garden. Although unlike my own father, the father in the novel is somewhat incompetent as a farmer…

Now that I’m beginning to turn my writing attention to other-worldly venues like the Moon, Mars, and elsewhere, I wonder how humanity would survive in environments that had no vegetation, where they had no access to fresh fruit and vegetables, where survival would depend on food rations and pre-prepared freeze-dried kits or soy-based products. Food flavor would be entirely chemical-based (even more than it already is, I mean). At least until we managed to terraform, we could also use greenhouses, but the area around any outer space settlers would be grey, red, brown…but no green. No free-standing bodies of water. No living things in the air, in the sea, on the land, but us.

How would the average person react over time, mentally and emotionally, in a sterile, lifeless environment? Not the average astronaut; I mean the average person. For civilization to survive and thrive off-world, people who don’t look like Hollywood actors or athletes would have to live on their own, isolated from terrestial food and energy sources for years at a time. What would children be like, growing up having never seen a tree or a bush, or even grass, without having touched a dog or a cat, or even ants? Living in a lush environment is connected to mental health; the new settlers would likely be extremely stressed out, all the time. Add multiple competing settler populations of ethnic groups with historical griefs and you have a recipe for interplanetary strife that might last for generations.

So, the moral of the story is simple: eat your greens to avoid endless internecine war in outer space. Who knew veggies could be so powerful?