May 2006 Archives
Lately I've been reading Geoffrey Sampson's Writing Systems. Some parts are more interesting than others, and lately I've stumbled quite a bit trying to get through it. There is one part that really fascinated me, however, about a phenomenon known as semasiographic writing - that is, writing systems that have no direct dependency on spoken languages. I wanted to share with you the following interesting example of semasiographic writing, taken from the book, which "is a copy of a letter sent by a girl of the Yukaghir tribe of north-eastern Siberia to a young man."
The conifer-shaped objects in Figure 1 are people. The second from the right is the writer (the row of dots represents plaited hair and thus shows that she is a woman); the next one leftwards, the recipient of the letter, was previously her lover, but has now gone off to live with a Russian woman (plaited hair, together with a skirt and panniers distinguishing Russian from Yukaghir costume). The Russian woman, naturally, has broken up the relationship between writer and addressee (line from the head of the Russian woman cutting through the lines joining the two Yukaghir); nevertheless, the new ménage is stormy (criss-cross lines linking the two). The writer is unhappy (crossed lines) alone in her house (the rectangular enclosed structure), and she is still thinking of the addressee (curly tendril reaching towards him). On the other hand the addressee should bear in mind that there is another young man at home (far right) sending a tendril towards her. If the addressee wants to act on this message, he had better hurry before his new household has children (two small conifers on left).
credit: Geoffrey Sampson. Writing Systems, P. 28
一ヶ月ぶりで日本語の日記を書きました。本当に怠け者に成っちゃったね！
先週は「マスタークレンズ」について何回か書きました。「マスタークレンズ」は、ま、特別なダイエットですね。やせる為のダイエットではなくて、むしろ体の毒を出す為のダイエットです。でもやっぱり七キロぐらいやせた。
「マスタークレンズ」には、固体料理は固く禁じられています。その代わりに、レモネードを飲みます。レモネードの材料は結構珍しいですよ。勿論レモンを使いますけど、砂糖の代わりにメープルシロップを使います。できればオーガニック、色の濃いメープルシロップを使った方がいいです。そして、シークレット・イングリーディエントの粉末唐辛子です。辛い！その飲み物を毎日グラスで６－１２杯飲みます。
朝にも大変な飲み物があります。塩水を１リットルを飲みます。それは本当に嫌です。絶対にマスタークレンズの一番嫌なとこるです。 夜にはセンナ茶を飲みます。多分知ってるかもしれませんけど、それは、ま、出すの為のお茶ですね。最も有効でした。朝には痛かったほどです。
多分「ダイエット」というより「断食」という単語の方があっているでしょう。へザーと僕はちょっと早めに終わりましたけど、理由がありました。将来にまたマスタークレンズをちゃんとやってみたいと思います。皆さん、マスタークレンズをちょっと一緒にやってみませんか。
小島先生はこの日記を修整してくれました。元の日記を見たかったら、以下の「Continue reading "マスタークレンズ" »」をクリックしてください。
As it turns out, Wednesday was our last day on the master cleanse. We were two days short of our ten-day target, but we ended up deciding to quit early - not because we don't possess the will power - in fact, we really wanted to continue - but rather, on account of our poor planning. Next weekend, our friend is having a singing performance (her last) before moving to America, and we really wanted to attend. We decided that our cleanse would get in the way of this a little bit. So as our digestive tracts would become fully acclimated to a wide enough variety of foods to fully appreciate the delights of the all-you-can-eat buffet, we broke the fast and started drinking orange juice and eating vegetable soup. An all-you-can-eat buffet is probably not the most salubrious culinary decision we could make on our journey down the road of healthful living, I admit - but this is the last time. Besides - I want to actually enjoy these last couple of months in Tokyo, and food is a big part of that.
We will be doing the cleanse again, though. Or a cleanse. Next time, in the States.
I was too tired and weak to write a blog entry about the cleanse yesterday. In fact, I took a nap at my desk during my lunch hour. It was rough walking from home to the station, and then from the station to the office, and then back again, let me tell you. It took me about twice the time it normally takes. To top it all off, when I got to the office, the elevator was out, so I had to climb seven flights of stairs. DOH!
I need to warn you that this next paragraph might be a little gross. The other day, after a morning elimination, I discovered that there were a few particles in my feces that looked like really short hairs. I thought nothing of it at the time, but Heather researched it and told me that hair in fecal matter during the cleanse is characteristic of a tumor. So in other words, I'm cleansing out either a current tumor or one that has already been neutralized by my body - or so they say. I think that there's another likely explanation. Aren't there hairs inside your digestive tract to aid your digestion? I think that those may have been the latter type of hair - although they were pretty long. I'm talking eyelash-length here.
Today was a hectic day. I foolishly forgot to set my alarm in time to wake up this morning in time to take the salt water flush. I didn't even have time to take the senna tea, which is what you are supposed to take if you are unable to drink the salt water flush. So my body is very angry at me right now. On the other hand, I still am successfully eliminating at work. It's a little embarrassing, going to the bathroom every ten minutes, but shouga nai. Actually, I'm feeling a bit better now and I think I might be done for the day. Also, I have a lot more energy today than I did yesterday. I'm not at peak energy levels - I still walk slower than usual, for example - but I'm much better than I was yesterday.
Two more days.
Yesterday, day 5, I had to go visit a friend in Shibuya in the early afternoon. That morning, I was incredibly tired and weak, so I wasn't really looking forward to it. I went anyway, and I was fine. Later in the evening I had an incredibly high level of energy. I was tearing around the apartment like a madman, and annoying Heather. I was just like Heather had been the previous day, but her energy levels were coming down.
This morning, on the other hand, Heather was extremely weak, and I was still pretty high-octane. So far on the cleanse, whatever happens to Heather on one day of the cleanse tends to happen to me on the following day, so I am expecting to crash pretty soon later today. Especially since I managed to spill about a quarter of the lemonade this morning on my bike ride to work.
Interestingly, both of our cravings have largely subsided - at least for the time being. Suffice it to say that we've largely stopped torturing each other with evil phrases like, "shall we order a pizza?"
Two days ago, when we went to the sentou, I weighed myself. Since the beginning of the cleanse until when I weighed myself, I have lost 2.5 kilograms. I expect that I've lost an additional kilogram since then. I can fit into some of my old pants now, which is good. The ones I've been wearing have many holes in them - too many, at this point, to mend. Besides, they look like crap. I'm tossing them.
Yesterday afternoon, against all expectactions, M-san came up and asked to take a swig from the spicy lemonade. Of course I let him. "karai," he exclaimed. "Hot." He then passed the glass to about four or five of our coworkers. By the time the glass got back to me, I had about half left! I wasn't really mad. In fact I was glad that they could share in that experience.
The cravings both yesterday evening and today have been pretty bad. On my way home from work last night I passed a Pizza Hut. One of the common symptoms of the master cleanse is that many of your senses - particularly your sense of smell - become much more sensitive. The aroma of delicious stuffed-crust pizza thus stayed with me for about a hundred meters - or maybe even more - after I passed the restaurant. I'm not joking.
Heather and I thought about giving up last night. Actually, I was the one who suggested that we give up. Or at least I tested the waters. We thought, "what about the blog? What will our friends and readers think?" We very briefly entertained the notion of quitting the cleanse but not telling anybody, and just coming up with fake entries from then on out. Don't worry - we quickly discarded that notion. Or did we...?
Seriously, the fact that people are reading these entries has been a positive motivating factor. Thanks for all of the support!
Yesterday and today, both Heather and I have had a very peculiar and interesting experience with the cleanse. Sometimes after drinking the lemonade, our bodies suddenly become very cold. In fact, I had to take a shower immediately after my first lemonade to stop shivering. I guess this symptom is pretty common. Other people, however, become very hot. How odd. Right now we're drinking lemonades and we're immediately after we're headed to the sentou to warm up and clean off.
I've been gradually increasing the amount of cayenne pepper that I've been consuming in the lemonade. I'm now up to about a full teaspoon of it per glass. That's a lot of cayenne pepper!
Not much to report today in regards to the cleanse. Same as yesterday, for the most part. At least physically the same.
There have been the cravings, though. They say that the things you crave the most during a cleanse are the substances you're currently eliminating. In my case, that's mostly fried foods, pizzas and hamburgers. I'm sure I have my fair share of these types of toxins. After all, in high school I did work at McDonald's for three years, and I ate things that were terrible for me - sometimes for two and even three meals a day. Sometimes I would eat five or six Big Macs at one meal. I'm sure that the cumulative effect of work there has made a pretty negative impact upon my health.
After only two days, the cleanse has even infiltrated my dreams. Last night I dreamt I cheated. I bought a can of Boss coffee from the convenience store and quickly drank it. I suddenly realized that I was violating my cleanse! I felt ashamed and guilty; I was especially ashamed that I would have to tell Heather, which would be a big disappointment for her, since she's accompanying me on this fantastic voyage. I was so disturbed by the dream that it actually woke me up!
As I've written here before, occasionally I go to the English language classes that my coworkers attend. At the beginning of each class all the students - including me - are asked to tell a funny or interesting story that happened to them in the past week - in English, naturally. I attended last night's class. Naturally, I talked about the cleanse, and all of the students thought it was hilarious. M-san, in particular, was laughing his head off. I offered him a taste of my cayenne pepper-enriched lemonade sometime. I doubt he'll ever take me up on it. An interesting thought just occured to me: maybe I can make a batch for all of them for the next class. I think it would really be an interesting experience for them; and hey, I might even be able to change some attitudes about prevention and bodily maintenance. Paradigm shift, baby!
I biked to work today. It was the first day in a long time in which that was possible, on account of a lot of recent rain. It was great, and it broke a very severe morning lethargy, brought on by the cleanse. I'd like to also add that It also was very conducive to elimination. I can see why cleanse proponents say that aerobic exercise is such a necessary component to the cleansing experience.
When I got to work, a coworker offered me a piece of mochi (rice treat) as [g]omiyage (souvenir - usually edible - brought back from a trip). I thanked him but didn't promptly eat it, on account of the cleanse. It was a little bit uncomfortable. When he was out of eyeshot I hid it in my desk drawer. I felt bad, but I didn't want anything getting in the way of my cleanse.
The rust-colored powdered cinnamon that adorned the mochi, though, smelled ever-so sweet and delicious.
Day 2
Despite the fact that we started the cleanse yesterday, I hadn't actually eliminated anything until this morning. I got up at 7:30 - comparatively early, because of severe cramps - and had to go to the bathroom three times before I left for work! So something's definitely going on in there.
The salt water solution was not nearly as bad this morning, despite the fact that I opted to increase the salt by 50%. It was still unpleasant, but there was no gagging. I think I have my technique down: I put the tip of my tongue at the top of my mouth so that I don't actually have to taste any of the salt. Heather recommended that I think of the solution as chicken soup, but I'm not very effective at that kind of self-delusion so I'm sticking with the tongue trick.
Biking home from work last night was a little hard. My route took me through the Korean district, and I smelled the succulent aromas of yakitori, kimchee and bibinba from all quarters. I was pretty hungry.
The lemonade actually does a surprisingly terrific job of relieving my hunger. That said, this morning I do feel pretty tired and weak. But not too bad yet. I guess the second, third, and fourth days are among the worst of the cleanse, so this is the real test for me.
Heather and I started The Master Cleanse this morning. It's a kind of diet, but its purpose is not to help you to lose weight - its purpose is to help you rid your body of some or all of the toxins you have accumulated in your life.
The basic procedure is as follows: in the morning, drink one quart of saline solution (filtered water and uniodized sea salt); at night, drink a cup of senna tea; and during the day, drink 6-12 glasses of lemonade, if you can call it that. Each glass of lemonade consists of two tablespoons of freshly-squeezed lemon juice, two tablespoons of dark grade B maple syrup, at least one tenth of a teaspoon of cayenne pepper, rounded out to 10 ounces with water.
I have only been on the cleanse for about half a day, but I can tell you a couple things. The senna tea is a piece of cake. The lemonade isn't so bad either. The saline solution in the morning, though, is absolutely wretched. I had to fight my gag reflex about a dozen times, and I actually vomited a little bit. A quart - that's almost a liter - is a lot to drink of any liquid, let alone salt water. And, in the ideal scenario, one is supposed to chug it. I would consider skipping this step if I weren't so excited about the potential benefits it conferred upon me. The solution's purpose is to clean one's colon, and as such it is a good measure for the prevention of colorectal cancer and related ailments.
Unfortunately, the saline solution this morning was ineffective, if you know what I mean. The basic prescription is to increase the amount of salt in the solution until effectiveness is achieved.
I don't know if I can last ten days of this.
By the way, there's a book about the master cleanse by its creator. We bought it and Heather has found it very informative. I've only read bits and pieces.
The psychology of the average Japanese climber is very interesting to me - it's all about gaman. On our hike from Takao to Jimba, I often heard the phrase spoken by a young boy or girl to his parents, "Surely we won't reach Mt. Jimba today." It seemed like the act of climbing was regarded as a kind of ordeal, and getting to the top - and notably, seeing Fuji - was the big payoff. Not just for the kids, but also for the parents. It was truly an exercise in gaman, and the representational rewards for gamaning (or ganbare-ing; the concepts are very similar) about which I've written here before. Of course, in life there is often little reward except perhaps some increased social prestige.
This experience forced me to think about my own motivations for climbing. Was it gaman? Well, partially, I think. Climbing is a bit of an ordeal. But for my friend and me, I think it was more about just moving through the forest and seeing what there is to see. Even though both of us have climbed the range before, climbing was like some sort of pilgrimage, a reconnection with nature - something that is sorely needed when one lives in Tokyo. Probably that factored prominently into the other hikers' motivations as well, and I shouldn't be so culturalist. But I definitely detected that motivations were at least partially broken down along cultural lines.
Last week was Golden Week, and I took some time off from everything - including my blog - to enjoy myself. That's the reason I haven't been keeping up with my entries. I know this is no way to build up readership, and I feel a twinge of guilt about my "virtual" absence. It looks like we bloggers have managed to make ourselves feel guilty about one more thing. How silly.
Last Friday I climbed Mt. Takao and three or four other mountains in the same range - including Shiro-yama, Kagenobu-yama, and Jinba-san - with my buddy R. Because it was Golden Week, it was extremely crowded. And even now, three days later, I am extremely sore. Nevertheless, it was a great climb. Especially at the beginning; instead of climbing up the first kilometer leg of Takao, R and I opted to take the ropeway up. It saved us about a kilometer of walking. I don't feel too bad about it, though, as the whole hike was about fifteen kilometers in length. I think that we did our fair share of exercise.
This was my second time climbing Takao, but it offered a nice surprise I hadn't noticed on my first climb. Mt. Fuji was almost completely visible from the top of Takao. I say almost because it was pretty hazy - because of pollution, fog, or a mixture thereof. Despite that, we were really treated to the image of Fuji and the surrounding mountain range projected upon a picturesque landscape.
An odd but pleasant feature of hike was how the trail clearly marked the division of the tree species. The trail took us, as it turns out, right on the ridge of the mountain range. The trees were speciated along this ridge; the left side of the ridge was a deep, gloomy forest of nothing but a never-ending phalanx of tall Japanese cedars. The tall, thick, dark canopy allowed only a spattering of sunlight to shine upon the washed-out, grey forest floor. It was the very expression of natural, clean decay. The forest on the right, in contrast, was a dazzlingly bright and sparser forest of a wider variety of trees. There were three main kinds. One looked like it was a kind of maple. The other two species were always found together in a kind of mysterious symbiosis (or parasitosis? Is that a word?). The larger tree was a deciduous; its roots propped it aboveground like some kind of grotesque circus stilts act. The complement tree or trees occured in clusters of bamboo-like chutes projecting straight out of the ground into the bright sky. The experience was very eerie, and I'm not sure how I could describe it. It was pretty cool, though.
Heather lent me a set of lectures about Macroeconomics, and I'm about a third of the way through them. One of the recent lectures focused on the nascence and development of banking in England by goldsmiths, all the way up to the modern US Federal Reserve, and how technologies such as credit cards and the Internet are increasing the velocity of money, in that transactions happen much faster and with much less hassle compared to even twenty-five years ago.
The history of the goldsmiths is particularly interesting. At first, people carried around lumps of gold in order to pay for things. Carrying and storing these lumps of gold, however, presented a couple of problems: they were heavy, and they were easily stolen. To remedy these problems, people started leaving their gold in the compartive safe-keeping of the goldsmiths, who would in turn issue receipts back to the owners which could be redeemed for the gold in the future. Once these receipts were issued, people figured out that they could trade the receipts themselves, without having to go back to the goldsmiths. Thus, paper currency was born.
Once people started trading in paper currency, the goldsmiths hit upon a very interesting idea. The chances of everyone coming back for their gold at the same time was extraordinarily small; thus, banks started issuing new currency based on this small risk. If, for example, person A deposited $1000.00 worth of gold in the bank, he would be issued the receipt; in addition, however, the bank could issue perhaps another $1000.00 to person B, in the form of a loan, as another receipt. This was known as the multiplication of money, and the rate of reserve was in inverse proportion to the amount of risk that the bank wanted to take on.
For most of the lifetime of contemporary currency, your money may exist simply as a string of bits representing some decimal amount. What if, instead, we were to name all units of money uniquely (down to the cent) and our bank accounts, instead being a simple number, would be collections of these units? Of course, that would require a lot more persistent storage and a lot more computation, but as I mentioned in my last entry, these costs continue to come down as time passes. So the costs are not too bad, and will likely get less severe as time passes. What the heck are the advantages, then?
With such a system, we might, for example, be able to track flows of money and, in turn, change our monetary and fiscal policies to optimize the flows. We could also use them as informants in the construction of social policy. If a lot of the money to buy illegal drugs or arms, for example, is coming from a particular sector or a particular location, we can look more deeply in that sector or location to see exactly what's going on. We do some of this already, but uniquely identifying every unit of money will increase the amount of granularity we could achieve by many orders.
We could do even more creative things. What if, for example, the economy were in the doldrums and we wanted to rev it up a little bit, but we're concerned about inflation? One solution might be to issue a limited currency; that is, currency that can be used a set number of times - say, 100 - before the expiration of some interval of time - say, one year. The currency can be redeemed at the end of the year for normal currency (or renewed limited currency), but only if it has been used in transactions over 100 times. If it has not been transacted that number of times, perhaps it can be redeemed for normal currency at, say, $0.98 on the dollar. That way, we're encouraging people to spend - quickly - without driving up inflation too much. Maybe. I'm not proposing this idea in earnest - quite possibly it's a horrible idea. But I think it shows some of what's possible in currency reform.
