The Japanese are famously crazy about the cherry blossoms. When the season comes (usually from the end of March to the beginning of April, depending on the location and the weather of the year), people go outdoors, place mats on the ground, and conduct a ritual of sake drinking and lively conversation ("hanami", literally "flower admiring").
Although some quite justifiably criticize the supposed "purpose" of this custom, that of admiring the cherry blossoms, as just a "pretext" to drink, the criticism is always a light-hearted one. When the time comes again for the Japanese people to go out, they will go out, including this writer, weather permitting.
As more reserved and quieter forerunners to the more outgoing cherry blossoms, the plums have been blooming for the past few weeks. Used to be that Japanese people admired the plums rather than the cherries, in the short poems and essays. It is interesting to consider what brought the change of sensitivities. Maybe it is easier to have a sake drinking session during the cherry blooming time, when it is noticeably warmer.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
The Moichi collage
My best friend and great producer Moichi Kuwahara has kindly put my tweet alongside a nice photo.
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
http://twitpic.com/163vhm
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
http://twitpic.com/163vhm
Muscle confusion
I came across an interesting concept recently. Muscle confusion. The idea is to expose the body to the greatest variety of movements, intervals, loads, modes of action as possible when you train. In other words, you treat your body as a complex system, not as a simpleton machine. I think the concept makes sense.
I have been doing push-ups and sit-ups these days, and what I find is that monotony leads to boredom. After a while you simply cannot take it any more, since your body knows already what to expect and it is not fun.
It is interesting to consider how you can expose your body to different kinds of physical trials, at quite unexpected times. In other words, you always try to take your body by surprise.
I have been doing push-ups and sit-ups these days, and what I find is that monotony leads to boredom. After a while you simply cannot take it any more, since your body knows already what to expect and it is not fun.
It is interesting to consider how you can expose your body to different kinds of physical trials, at quite unexpected times. In other words, you always try to take your body by surprise.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Creativity is proportional to the courage to break from the status quo.
A few days ago, I tweeted: Creativity is not proportional to intelligence per se. Creativity is proportional to the courage to break from the status quo. @ http://twitter.com/kenmogi.
You know it took me such a long time to come to this particular realization.
The inspiration came to me when I was pondering the life of Albert Einstein. There is no doubt that Albert Einstein was a terribly intelligent man. How else could one bring about an evolution such as the theory of relativity into the world? I actually decided to become a scientist because I was infected by the marvel of the "Einsteinian" intellect.
However, it cannot be said that the achievement of Albert Einstein is due to his intellect alone. He was a remarkably courageous man. At a time when the education at German speaking schools was conducted in an authoritarian manner, Albert Einstein rebelled against the system. He traveled around Europe alone, after dropping out of the Gymnasium.
When choosing the subject of study, he went off the beaten track and pursued his inspiration in the teens concerning what would happen if you followed light with the speed of light. Because he did not go along the status quo, or the powers that be, he could not get a job at the university, but worked at the patent office instead.
All these rough drives of life did not make Albert Einstein wince. He continued with his brave journey of investigation, and succeeded in creating a brand new way to look at the space-time.
When you ponder the life of Albert Einstein, you realize that creativity is proportional to the courage to break from the status quo.
The Albert Einstein T-shirt that I sometimes wear to get around in Tokyo.
You know it took me such a long time to come to this particular realization.
The inspiration came to me when I was pondering the life of Albert Einstein. There is no doubt that Albert Einstein was a terribly intelligent man. How else could one bring about an evolution such as the theory of relativity into the world? I actually decided to become a scientist because I was infected by the marvel of the "Einsteinian" intellect.
However, it cannot be said that the achievement of Albert Einstein is due to his intellect alone. He was a remarkably courageous man. At a time when the education at German speaking schools was conducted in an authoritarian manner, Albert Einstein rebelled against the system. He traveled around Europe alone, after dropping out of the Gymnasium.
When choosing the subject of study, he went off the beaten track and pursued his inspiration in the teens concerning what would happen if you followed light with the speed of light. Because he did not go along the status quo, or the powers that be, he could not get a job at the university, but worked at the patent office instead.
All these rough drives of life did not make Albert Einstein wince. He continued with his brave journey of investigation, and succeeded in creating a brand new way to look at the space-time.
When you ponder the life of Albert Einstein, you realize that creativity is proportional to the courage to break from the status quo.
The Albert Einstein T-shirt that I sometimes wear to get around in Tokyo.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Blessings would often come in the form of strangers
Traveling is quite important in life, as staying in one place and a single context restricts how one's brain and body function.
In an era where information is exchanged on a global level instantly, modes of physical travel remain strangely and rewardingly limited.
I went to the city of Ise yesterday, to attend a forum on food and health. I first had to take the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Nagoya, and then change to the Kintetsu line, taking a nap on the way, basking in the sunshine that came through the window.
When I awoke, I was in the middle of rice fields, where a couple of people were walking in a relaxed manner. In the distance, I saw a range of low mountains, with their peaks covered with white cloud.
I came all the way to witness this, I thought. My entire mind system went into a hitherto unknown condition. I smelt the pleasant approach of the unknown, and I knew at that moment that blessings would often come in the form of strangers.
In an era where information is exchanged on a global level instantly, modes of physical travel remain strangely and rewardingly limited.
I went to the city of Ise yesterday, to attend a forum on food and health. I first had to take the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Nagoya, and then change to the Kintetsu line, taking a nap on the way, basking in the sunshine that came through the window.
When I awoke, I was in the middle of rice fields, where a couple of people were walking in a relaxed manner. In the distance, I saw a range of low mountains, with their peaks covered with white cloud.
I came all the way to witness this, I thought. My entire mind system went into a hitherto unknown condition. I smelt the pleasant approach of the unknown, and I knew at that moment that blessings would often come in the form of strangers.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
As we approach the springtime in the northern hemisphere
When you encounter a new idea, the influence is often brutal. It takes possession of your whole system, and violent reactions sometimes follow. You're greatly agitated, and you think about the idea the whole time.
Gradually, the novelty is lost, and the idea is incorporated into you. The explicit encounter turns into implicit knowledge. The idea becomes part of you, and you need not think about it all the time. More often than not, you forget the idea itself.
As we approach the springtime in the northern hemisphere, I sometimes think if we should not regain the initial agitation from time to time. The excitement as you discover a new idea, which changes your life, and burns your heart. Although such a reaction is often short-lived, it is one of the primes of our life, and it is well to remember. Spring is a fit season for the resurgence of young and bold in spirit.
Gradually, the novelty is lost, and the idea is incorporated into you. The explicit encounter turns into implicit knowledge. The idea becomes part of you, and you need not think about it all the time. More often than not, you forget the idea itself.
As we approach the springtime in the northern hemisphere, I sometimes think if we should not regain the initial agitation from time to time. The excitement as you discover a new idea, which changes your life, and burns your heart. Although such a reaction is often short-lived, it is one of the primes of our life, and it is well to remember. Spring is a fit season for the resurgence of young and bold in spirit.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Spring had come to me on one February evening in Tokyo
I had some glasses of really good sake last night, and got drunk. I was with my best friends. We just finished a very strenuous work day.
A fine sake has a certain divinity in its transparent existence. As time passes, and as you sip the previous liquid into your system, something in you dissolves, is sweetened, and bitterness of life, if any, disappears into the air.
A sake is a godsend. It makes the barriers between individuals melt like a spring snow. Thanks to the sake and a good company, spring had come to me on one February evening in Tokyo.
A fine sake has a certain divinity in its transparent existence. As time passes, and as you sip the previous liquid into your system, something in you dissolves, is sweetened, and bitterness of life, if any, disappears into the air.
A sake is a godsend. It makes the barriers between individuals melt like a spring snow. Thanks to the sake and a good company, spring had come to me on one February evening in Tokyo.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Emergent contingency
I went to the NTT R&D forum 2010. I met with several very interesting people, and encountered exciting lines of research.
It is interesting how the progress of time sometimes brings about a dramatic contextual shift in society. The mobile phone network, originally constructed as a infrastructure for voice communications is now rapidly becoming an infrastructure for information other than voice.
The key word is "out of the box" experience. When a user buys a device, he or she does not have to enter a contract with a carrier explicitly. The financial arrangements are taken care of behind the scene. When a consumer buys music, text, video while online, a small portion of the money would go to the carrier, without the consumer noticing it. This is convenient for all the parties
concerned. And it gets rid of transportation in the physical domain, reducing carbon dioxide emission, and reducing garbage.
I gave a one hour speech in which I discussed the significance of emergent contingency. The information network that we are constructing is all about the nurturing of interesting contingency structure in which the human brains can learn, interact, and explore. I am convinced that we are living in a very exciting era. The only limit is the imagination.
It is interesting how the progress of time sometimes brings about a dramatic contextual shift in society. The mobile phone network, originally constructed as a infrastructure for voice communications is now rapidly becoming an infrastructure for information other than voice.
The key word is "out of the box" experience. When a user buys a device, he or she does not have to enter a contract with a carrier explicitly. The financial arrangements are taken care of behind the scene. When a consumer buys music, text, video while online, a small portion of the money would go to the carrier, without the consumer noticing it. This is convenient for all the parties
concerned. And it gets rid of transportation in the physical domain, reducing carbon dioxide emission, and reducing garbage.
I gave a one hour speech in which I discussed the significance of emergent contingency. The information network that we are constructing is all about the nurturing of interesting contingency structure in which the human brains can learn, interact, and explore. I am convinced that we are living in a very exciting era. The only limit is the imagination.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
I hadn't seen a single one of them.
I normally do not watch television much. It is not that I do not care for good programs. I simply do not have the time.
There was a testimony of this fact the other day. Later last year, I was a judge of a commercials competition. The short-listed commercial videos were shown one by one.
Mr. Kundo Koyama, who wrote the script for the film Departures, was one of the judges. After seeing the commercials, Mr. Koyama remarked that he realized how influential these T.V. commercials are, as he knew nearly half of them although he seldom watches the television, as little as 10 to 15 minutes a day.
I sat there, in the middle of the committee, with my jaws open. I hadn't seen a single one of them. If commercials are one of the important media through which the zeitgeist is nurtured and propagated, then I do not breathe that air.
I remember the golden days when as I kid I used to watch my favorite anime programs, and share the latest information once in school with my mates. Now the world is fragmented, and it is difficult to share a common mood. Maybe it is the fault of people like me.
There was a testimony of this fact the other day. Later last year, I was a judge of a commercials competition. The short-listed commercial videos were shown one by one.
Mr. Kundo Koyama, who wrote the script for the film Departures, was one of the judges. After seeing the commercials, Mr. Koyama remarked that he realized how influential these T.V. commercials are, as he knew nearly half of them although he seldom watches the television, as little as 10 to 15 minutes a day.
I sat there, in the middle of the committee, with my jaws open. I hadn't seen a single one of them. If commercials are one of the important media through which the zeitgeist is nurtured and propagated, then I do not breathe that air.
I remember the golden days when as I kid I used to watch my favorite anime programs, and share the latest information once in school with my mates. Now the world is fragmented, and it is difficult to share a common mood. Maybe it is the fault of people like me.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Faint light still barely visible in the great northern void
Whether a man has a free will or not is a great topic of debate in philosophy and science.
No matter what kind of position one takes, it is clear that it is the multitude of miscellaneous things that drives each of us. When we make a choice, many different things in our neural circuit compete for influence and dominance, and the result might surprise even the agent himself.
Life is thus like surfing waves. The surge of the unknown from the unconscious is not unknown for all of us. Living is full of surprises, as previously unknown motifs and motives suddenly drive us to pathways of living hitherto undreamed of.
When we think of the variety of influences that form us, the goal that one pursues throughout life is like a dim light seen in the distance. It is not something that dominates your whole system. Your existence is rather swayed to and fro in an unpredictable manner, you keep surfing the waves of the multitude, and from time to time, you look up at the dark sky and see the faint light still barely visible in the great northern void.
No matter what kind of position one takes, it is clear that it is the multitude of miscellaneous things that drives each of us. When we make a choice, many different things in our neural circuit compete for influence and dominance, and the result might surprise even the agent himself.
Life is thus like surfing waves. The surge of the unknown from the unconscious is not unknown for all of us. Living is full of surprises, as previously unknown motifs and motives suddenly drive us to pathways of living hitherto undreamed of.
When we think of the variety of influences that form us, the goal that one pursues throughout life is like a dim light seen in the distance. It is not something that dominates your whole system. Your existence is rather swayed to and fro in an unpredictable manner, you keep surfing the waves of the multitude, and from time to time, you look up at the dark sky and see the faint light still barely visible in the great northern void.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Bad money drives out good
I don't know about other countries, but I do feel that what is undeniably lost in this country is the will and ability to see and endeavor for distant things.
Things were different at different times. I hear that in the postwar era, people were craving for knowledge. When the Iwanami Shoten, publisher of quality books for the academic and the academically-oriented general readership, released the first series of readings, people lined up in front of the bookstores. They were so eagerly waiting for the first drop of enlightenment after years of darkness and oppression, and it showed. Time flies like an arrow, and now many publishers in Japan decry they cannot sell quality books, while bestsellers of marginal or superficial values crowd the bookshelves.
Gresham's law states that bad money drives out good. The key assumption behind it is that both good money and bad money are legal tenders, and should be accepted in the exchanges in the market. It is true that both cheap knowledge and profound are exchanged in today's society as if they are equivalent, as long as they can lead to revenues and sales.
We all live in a market economy, and deploring the status quo adds nothing towards amending the situation. It is interesting to consider under what sociological conditions do people start for aiming at distant ideals, though.
Things were different at different times. I hear that in the postwar era, people were craving for knowledge. When the Iwanami Shoten, publisher of quality books for the academic and the academically-oriented general readership, released the first series of readings, people lined up in front of the bookstores. They were so eagerly waiting for the first drop of enlightenment after years of darkness and oppression, and it showed. Time flies like an arrow, and now many publishers in Japan decry they cannot sell quality books, while bestsellers of marginal or superficial values crowd the bookshelves.
Gresham's law states that bad money drives out good. The key assumption behind it is that both good money and bad money are legal tenders, and should be accepted in the exchanges in the market. It is true that both cheap knowledge and profound are exchanged in today's society as if they are equivalent, as long as they can lead to revenues and sales.
We all live in a market economy, and deploring the status quo adds nothing towards amending the situation. It is interesting to consider under what sociological conditions do people start for aiming at distant ideals, though.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
This morning I read a bit of Bertrand Russell.
We all live in the contemporary world, and are bombarded with miscellaneous information every day. While interacting with the immediate environment is useful and necessary, I personally find that listening to distant voices is as necessary.
I find that walking through life with only the current affairs by one's side makes one's soul rough and coarse. I need to read, think about, and hearken to things from the distant past, those time-tested gems. Otherwise something in me wither and then perish.
This morning I read a bit of Bertrand Russell.
I find that walking through life with only the current affairs by one's side makes one's soul rough and coarse. I need to read, think about, and hearken to things from the distant past, those time-tested gems. Otherwise something in me wither and then perish.
This morning I read a bit of Bertrand Russell.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
In the process of "jumping" between the two languages
I have started a new series in my twitter. The first two entries are:
Have you heard of the "flowers in the storm" metaphor? Life is all about saying goodbye.
Drink this wine and pretend that you're dead once you have drunk it. To our health!
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
These two sentences are actually translations of famous sayings in Japanese.
It is interesting to consider what remains and what not in translation. If you compare the above two English expressions with the original Japanese ones, you notice that some elements of essence are preserved (otherwise what would be the use of translation?). On the other hand, some nuances are lost. It is true that particular impressions can only be invoked by the use of the Japanese language.
Interestingly, things are also added. In the process of "jumping" between two languages, something is attached to one's mind. These elements then sparkle and impress.
It is a general biological principle that crossing the border would generate new things. Here's to the joy of bridging two universes!
Have you heard of the "flowers in the storm" metaphor? Life is all about saying goodbye.
Drink this wine and pretend that you're dead once you have drunk it. To our health!
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
These two sentences are actually translations of famous sayings in Japanese.
It is interesting to consider what remains and what not in translation. If you compare the above two English expressions with the original Japanese ones, you notice that some elements of essence are preserved (otherwise what would be the use of translation?). On the other hand, some nuances are lost. It is true that particular impressions can only be invoked by the use of the Japanese language.
Interestingly, things are also added. In the process of "jumping" between two languages, something is attached to one's mind. These elements then sparkle and impress.
It is a general biological principle that crossing the border would generate new things. Here's to the joy of bridging two universes!
Friday, February 19, 2010
The medal monopoly was such an excitement for us kids
The Vancouver Olympics brings excitement and sweet memories.
When I was 9, the Olympic games were held in Sapporo. The 70 m ski jump was a dream result for the Japanese kids, as three compatriots, Mr. Kasaya, Mr. Konno, and Mr. Aochi won the Gold, Silver, and Bronze medals, respectively.
The medal monopoly was such an excitement for us kids that we immediately started to imitate the game. We gathered around the slide and imagined that we were actually participating at the jump hill. After the beep sound signaling for start, we would slide down, and jump, trying to imitate the marvelous players.
Because the Olymics come so far in-between, it can be an impressive marker of your life.
When I was 9, the Olympic games were held in Sapporo. The 70 m ski jump was a dream result for the Japanese kids, as three compatriots, Mr. Kasaya, Mr. Konno, and Mr. Aochi won the Gold, Silver, and Bronze medals, respectively.
The medal monopoly was such an excitement for us kids that we immediately started to imitate the game. We gathered around the slide and imagined that we were actually participating at the jump hill. After the beep sound signaling for start, we would slide down, and jump, trying to imitate the marvelous players.
Because the Olymics come so far in-between, it can be an impressive marker of your life.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Keep going with the "writing streak"
I went to a wonderful performance of Siegfried at the New National Theater. Wagner took years to complete this magnum opus.
As I reflected on my own daily activities, I came to the conclusion that I needed to review the way I interact in the internet.
I would like to use my hours and minutes so that activities would lead to meaningful accumulation. After much thought, I have discontinued the comment and trackback sections of the Japanese blog, as approving the entries take too much time every morning. I have pondered the nature of this English blog, and decided to keep going with the "writing streak" (since 6th June last year), as this space is meaningful as an opportunity of experimentation with English expressions. I also decided to leave the comments function here open, as I see it is serving as a medium of meaningful communications here and worldwide.
Several things in my life made me go through this soul searching.
As I reflected on my own daily activities, I came to the conclusion that I needed to review the way I interact in the internet.
I would like to use my hours and minutes so that activities would lead to meaningful accumulation. After much thought, I have discontinued the comment and trackback sections of the Japanese blog, as approving the entries take too much time every morning. I have pondered the nature of this English blog, and decided to keep going with the "writing streak" (since 6th June last year), as this space is meaningful as an opportunity of experimentation with English expressions. I also decided to leave the comments function here open, as I see it is serving as a medium of meaningful communications here and worldwide.
Several things in my life made me go through this soul searching.
The qualia journal. Phase 1
The qualia journal. Phase 1.
From 9th October 2004 to 17th February 2010.
Now I am soul searching.
From 9th October 2004 to 17th February 2010.
Now I am soul searching.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Looking forward to the unknown, no matter how small it might be
The healthiness of one's brain can pretty well be judged by whether one embraces the uncertainties in life with pleasure.
A kid has great expectations for the future. On the night before the school trip, for example, it is not uncommon for a kid to be so excited that it is difficult to sleep. It is not that those school outings are going to be anything great in actuality. It is just the expectations that brings the children into the cosmos of the infinities.
As one grows older, this great ability of being excited over the unknown is gradually lost. The future becomes mundane. There, the decline of the brain health starts.
Looking forward to the unknown, no matter how small it might be, is a great way to keep your brain young and up.
A kid has great expectations for the future. On the night before the school trip, for example, it is not uncommon for a kid to be so excited that it is difficult to sleep. It is not that those school outings are going to be anything great in actuality. It is just the expectations that brings the children into the cosmos of the infinities.
As one grows older, this great ability of being excited over the unknown is gradually lost. The future becomes mundane. There, the decline of the brain health starts.
Looking forward to the unknown, no matter how small it might be, is a great way to keep your brain young and up.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
On intolerance
Much as I respect and love my fellow country people, there are some tendencies recently in Japan that I cannot go along.
One thing is the spreading of intolerance. It is not that people in Japan are generally intolerant. Far from it. All my trusted friends are quite liberal, and respect the individualities and variances. At best or worst it is a divided nation. It is only that intolerant people are often noisy. And the media follow them without reflections and criticism. Making noise is one of the business models of big media, much to the disservice for the whole community.
Intolerant people are old in spirit. They cannot accept change. They inhibit the creative dynamo of others and themelves. In a society where many people are eagerly applying anti-aging techniques, I sometimes wonder why people do not take the prescriptions for tolerance.
If the wave of intolerance spreads further, everyone loses. Not only does it have a generally intimidating effect on the young and creative, but also the intolerant people themselves lose the most essential brilliance of life.
If, on the other hand, more and more people learn how to be tolerant to individuals of different opinions and value systems, no matter how alien and strange they may appear, everyone would be a winner.
One thing is the spreading of intolerance. It is not that people in Japan are generally intolerant. Far from it. All my trusted friends are quite liberal, and respect the individualities and variances. At best or worst it is a divided nation. It is only that intolerant people are often noisy. And the media follow them without reflections and criticism. Making noise is one of the business models of big media, much to the disservice for the whole community.
Intolerant people are old in spirit. They cannot accept change. They inhibit the creative dynamo of others and themelves. In a society where many people are eagerly applying anti-aging techniques, I sometimes wonder why people do not take the prescriptions for tolerance.
If the wave of intolerance spreads further, everyone loses. Not only does it have a generally intimidating effect on the young and creative, but also the intolerant people themselves lose the most essential brilliance of life.
If, on the other hand, more and more people learn how to be tolerant to individuals of different opinions and value systems, no matter how alien and strange they may appear, everyone would be a winner.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Either way, they have nothing to say about their performance
The Vancouver Olympics is well under way. When I watch the games, when I can that is, I tend to focus on the losers, as well as the winners. Athletes cannot explain their failures away. They have nothing to say about their performance. They just do it, based on the skills and experiences that they have acquired over the years through arduous training, and they just accept the results as they come, no matter what nature. If they lose, they quietly fade away. If they win, they enjoy the transient spotlight. Either way, they have nothing to say about their performance, as everything is over once the competition time is up.
As the world become increasingly talkative, delving into other people's matters and widening the range of one's objects of comments, the athletes in the Olympics provide a refreshing contrast, just concentrating on what their finite bodies can and cannot achieve.
Maybe we should all be like the athletes.
As the world become increasingly talkative, delving into other people's matters and widening the range of one's objects of comments, the athletes in the Olympics provide a refreshing contrast, just concentrating on what their finite bodies can and cannot achieve.
Maybe we should all be like the athletes.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone.
I came to Shimada, Shizuoka. I gave a public lecture in the city auditorium, talking about the brain, life, and mindsets.
After the lecture, I had a break before the evening social events. I strolled the backstreets of Shimada.
It is always such a great pleasure to be lost, or, more precisely, to try to be lost in an unknown city. Narrow streets would meander, and you're led to a new vista, in a metaphorical movement for life itself.
It is so soothing to be released from your everyday social networks, and to be immersed in the soothing radiance of the isolation of choice.
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone. Mr. Kawamura came to search for me. I raised my hand to assure my connectedness. We are all connected, through the great darkness that envelop the planet earth in periods.
After the lecture, I had a break before the evening social events. I strolled the backstreets of Shimada.
It is always such a great pleasure to be lost, or, more precisely, to try to be lost in an unknown city. Narrow streets would meander, and you're led to a new vista, in a metaphorical movement for life itself.
It is so soothing to be released from your everyday social networks, and to be immersed in the soothing radiance of the isolation of choice.
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone. Mr. Kawamura came to search for me. I raised my hand to assure my connectedness. We are all connected, through the great darkness that envelop the planet earth in periods.
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