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elsewhere

Satoshi Kon's last words

Satoshi Kon, the director of anime movies Perfect Blue, Tokyo Godfathers, Millenium Actress and Paprika, as well as the TV series Paranoia Agent, died on Tuesday, August 24th, 2010 at the age of 46. (NY Times obituary.) He left behind a rambling but extraordinary document, which his family has posthumously posted on his blog.

They're the last words of a supremely talented artist who knows he is dying very soon, with work left unfinished. It's been the talk of the Japanese internet, and it struck me deeply.

There is no official translation into English of the text, so I have translated it in its entirety, trying to keep the spirit and tone of the original. It is indeed rather long and rambling - he wrote it like that. I'm sure he didn't sit down to outline it before he wrote it. It's not authorized in any way, and if I receive objections from interested parties or see a formal translation up somewhere I'll take this down. (Note: as of April 2012 this hasn't happened, so chances are this is the only English version you'll ever see.) In any case, these are the words of a dying artist, waiting for his flight to come and transport him away.

Soon after I posted this translation, it was linked to by many sites worldwide. Several people translated it into other languages; you can find a list of the versions I know of at the bottom.

Doing business as a Japanese businessman in the '60s and '70s

The most recent Mad Men episode reminded me of my father's experiences as a Japanese businessman in Europe and the U.S. back in the late '60s to '70s.

Email woes

To "Victoria": I tried to email you back but your email inbox is full.

So it's really you, not me.

Pot, kettle, black and Kindle: The New Yorker Digital Edition sucks

A recent article in The New Yorker dissing Amazon's Kindle made me snort with sarcastic laughter. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Star Trek, and movie watching in France vs. Switzerland

I've only mentioned this on my About page, but I am a long time Star Trek fan. At one point in my life I even was the type of Trek fan (Trekkie, Trekker, whatever) that went to conventions (though I never got into Trek cosplay). For what it's worth, I have autographed photos of all of the captains except for Jonathan Frakes/Scott Bakula. Yipes.

If there was ever an incentive to plan for the future

Given the current state of the economy and so on, I've become increasingly aware that, as far away as it might seem to be, I should really plan ahead for when I am no longer able to work and earn a living. But still, I know that I am not very well prepared, and my savings are not nearly what they should be.

But today, I heard something that has really affected me.

Well, forget that

Well, forget the last post. Just Stuff I Like hasn't worked out at all, because other things have gotten higher priority now. For the moment Twitter is where I spout my short thoughts, and I'm back here for longer stuff, eventually.

My blog (and life) compartments

Some people can keep all the diverse aspects of their lives together in one big container. I am the opposite: I prefer to compartmentalize my different interests into smaller chunks. I think my lifelong fascination with old typeface trays is related to this.

I find dealing with small chunks of information first, then looking at the whole (and back and forth) to be easier to handle than a whole-at-once approach. I also realize that I tend to like to only present parts of myself to other people, and hold back on others.

The World of Miniatures

From CBS Sunday Morning:

I have been interested in miniatures forever, but am forever procrastinating about it. I have quite a collection of Re-ment now, but mostly in their boxes, until I can figure out how to best display them.

The apartment building in the video is my dream!

Twitter

Where previously, little fragments of ideas may have gradually accumulated, building up to a big idea in the recesses of your mind, participating in Twitter drains away those ideas as soon as they float by. At the end, you are left with an empty void, and a vague feeling that something is missing.