And I get accused of over sharing

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And I get accused of over sharing
Haha. My wife can't distinguish between when it's begun and when it's finished, so you're one up on me.Captain Punish wrote:She doesn't need to speak. The look of relief that it's over says it all.gergreg wrote:I bet his wife says something similar.greeneyed wrote:Lucy didn’t last long. As usual.
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I took a bus today, but was not motivated to review the experience.T_R wrote:For your interest, I’ve decided to review my bus trip today.
Travelling in Japan, one of course expects to encounter a strictly traditionalist public transportation construct. But this was not to be, or at least it was not to be presented as such. Kobe Mass Transit indulges in an ironic play upon the concept of transport as performance art, sacrificing form for a brutalist post modern display of, dare I suggest, ruthless efficiency. Thus, there were no cheery conductors , no garbled cockney cries nor discarded ticket stubs to lend a historical authenticity to the journey. Indeed, there was little hustle and virtually no bustle.
The ‘bus stop’ construct was efficient (‘Damned!’, I hear you cry, ‘With the faintest of praises’). I will not be claimed a picayune, I am sure, to say that I found the experience lacking a certain style. The bus ran to schedule. It was clean. The driver greeted with a cheery “Konnichiwa”. This note of unreality lent itself to distraction. Is it possible to allow oneself for immersion in an experience where the form has sacrificed so much to the function?
The ride had a certain intentional boredom to it, a Warholesque fatigue that did nothing initially but highlight the pleasures of the journey. This was in stark contrast to the almost hyperbolic view from the windows. Was this truly a Japanese streetscape, or merely a pandering to my perceptions of such? Whatever the case, the chaos of the outside world sat uncomfortably with the minimalism within, and the fatigue segued into boredom and thus became longing. Was this a comment on aging, indeed of life itself? Was the stage being crassly set for an all too obvious final ‘birthing’? Perhaps I credit Kobe Mass Transit with too much, but the metaphor was stark. Was it overplayed?
Eventually, the arrival was short, too choreographed, even too lacking in trauma in its movements to suggest the obvious birth metaphor. But there was a latent humanism in the shuffle to the door. ‘Nay’ it cried ‘tarry not! Move! Push!’, but it left so little time, so little emotional space to reflect upon the grotesque environmental sculpture to which we were disgorged (even birthed?), that one was left unfulfilled, left holding out for more.
The answer (so blatant in its presentation, was this a Thibaultian deliberate insult, a passing moment of ugly rhetoric to leave one demanding more?) was simple. Ride again. Return to whence you came.
And thus I did, transported physically yet left emotionally unmoved. Did I ask too much?
Bus wanker.T_R wrote:I took a bus today, but was not motivated to review the experience.T_R wrote:For your interest, I’ve decided to review my bus trip today.
Travelling in Japan, one of course expects to encounter a strictly traditionalist public transportation construct. But this was not to be, or at least it was not to be presented as such. Kobe Mass Transit indulges in an ironic play upon the concept of transport as performance art, sacrificing form for a brutalist post modern display of, dare I suggest, ruthless efficiency. Thus, there were no cheery conductors , no garbled cockney cries nor discarded ticket stubs to lend a historical authenticity to the journey. Indeed, there was little hustle and virtually no bustle.
The ‘bus stop’ construct was efficient (‘Damned!’, I hear you cry, ‘With the faintest of praises’). I will not be claimed a picayune, I am sure, to say that I found the experience lacking a certain style. The bus ran to schedule. It was clean. The driver greeted with a cheery “Konnichiwa”. This note of unreality lent itself to distraction. Is it possible to allow oneself for immersion in an experience where the form has sacrificed so much to the function?
The ride had a certain intentional boredom to it, a Warholesque fatigue that did nothing initially but highlight the pleasures of the journey. This was in stark contrast to the almost hyperbolic view from the windows. Was this truly a Japanese streetscape, or merely a pandering to my perceptions of such? Whatever the case, the chaos of the outside world sat uncomfortably with the minimalism within, and the fatigue segued into boredom and thus became longing. Was this a comment on aging, indeed of life itself? Was the stage being crassly set for an all too obvious final ‘birthing’? Perhaps I credit Kobe Mass Transit with too much, but the metaphor was stark. Was it overplayed?
Eventually, the arrival was short, too choreographed, even too lacking in trauma in its movements to suggest the obvious birth metaphor. But there was a latent humanism in the shuffle to the door. ‘Nay’ it cried ‘tarry not! Move! Push!’, but it left so little time, so little emotional space to reflect upon the grotesque environmental sculpture to which we were disgorged (even birthed?), that one was left unfulfilled, left holding out for more.
The answer (so blatant in its presentation, was this a Thibaultian deliberate insult, a passing moment of ugly rhetoric to leave one demanding more?) was simple. Ride again. Return to whence you came.
And thus I did, transported physically yet left emotionally unmoved. Did I ask too much?
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Tuggeranong. It’s nice is some pockets.The Nickman wrote:Hahahahahaha... Tuggeranong
Welcome to beyond the Hyperdome!Lucy wrote:What's a pocket? I only wear spandex.
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Spot on. I went hiking in Japan and had to carry a bell to warn the bears I was coming. I nearly stepped on a snack two days ago while running in the bush, but I always carry a snake bandage and if bitten will almost certainly survive. And snakes are only around for half the year.Sterlk wrote:Reading an article about what foreigners think of Australia, the section on wildlife is a predictable laugh.
Foreigners like to comment on how deadly our wildlife is, but frankly I'd generally take ours over theirs. As deadly as ours can be, respect the animal and it should leave you alone - we don't have any large land-based predators. If you go wandering off the beaten path in North America there's a bunch of stuff in the woods that'll happily kill and eat you.