The first domain name that I ever acquired expired this week. Since no one (least of all myself) has been using Weblog Japan recently, I did not extend the reservation, and am now left with only thilosophy.com (which comes bundled with the web server).

Today was my second failed attempt at trying to see Inside Man: Last month in New York, Martin and me arrived too late at the cinema (and saw American Dreamz instead - 6 points), today Imai-san and me were confronted with the reality that weekend screenings in Tokyo are sometimes sold out.

7 points

A case study on the effects of privatisation from the perspective of a less-than-semi-informed casual observer.

If I were allowed to watch only three hours of television every year (in fact, I am not watching much more than that anyway these days, especially if one discounts the World Cup), I would probably choose the annual MTV Movie Awards show. Thus, I was extremely happy to find out that the recently installed flat-screen monitor in front of the indoor-bike-workout-machine that I had just mounted carries MTV, and said show was on. Not otherwise having access to cable TV, that rare chance would probably have made me spend two hours there, which for a thoroughly unathletic person like me would have been quite remarkable, if not for the unfortunate fact that I had already missed everything except the grand finale (the following Making The Movie: MI-III could not capture me for longer than up to the second commercial break).

The sub-arena of the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium at Sendagaya, houses a workout room and a swimming pool. Management of this public facility has recently been turned over to Tipness, a company that operates a chain of sports clubs throughout the country. The first big change this has brought about was a complete remodelling. For me, that has been a definite improvement: while the training room is as small and packed as before, the locker rooms and showers are much nicer now. They have thrown in TV sets, which of course should make no difference to the serious athlete, but discount me from that group. They play background music now, on which I am impartial thanks to my iPod. In the past, you were not supposed to use shampoo or soap in the shower, because the water was being recycled. That policy has probably been abandoned, which would be another win of convenience over conscience. A Japanese style hot bath has been added. The price of admittance remains to same, but it only gets you two hours now instead of the whole day, which for me makes no difference. Tipness also offers additional services, such as instructor-led classes, health assessments, or massages, all of which have to be paid for extra, which seems fair to me.

But there are other sentiments. I was still high on first impressions when I ran into an elderly Western gentleman, who very passionately voiced his disappointment with the new management. As it turns out, he was a pool user. I have never been to the pool, so I cannot really speak on this, but apparently it has been an Olympic size pool before (maybe the only one publicly accessible in central Tokyo) that has now been downsized to 25 meters. He also complained about the increased ticket prizes, and the locker rooms being less spacious (so I suppose that the pool facilities, which have been separate from the training room facilities, have been quite fancy all along). He blamed all this on the controversial Tokyo governor, and called it an enormous (and typical for Japan) waste of tax money. I, too, wonder about, and of course have no insight into, the financial implications of this project. Theoretically, Tipness should be able to run the gym more efficiently than the government, but who knows what sweat deal they maybe struck.

If you are planning to visit Tokyo, let me recommend the Edo-Tokyo Museum in Ryogoku. I am putting right up in my Top Three Sites, along with Meiji Shrine on Sunday (to watch the equally fascinating traditional wedding ceremonies inside , and the cos-players that assemble outside) and the scenic view from the top of the Metropolitan government's high-rise office building in Shinjuku.

The Edo-Tokyo Museum showcases the history of Tokyo since it was founded (as Edo) in 1590 up to the present day. The highlight are the replicas of historical buildings, almost all of which have been destroyed long ago by fire, earthquake, or war. The museum building itself is also quite impressive. There are many volunteer tour guides that can show you around and offer explanations in many different languages.

PS: Ryogoku is also the centre of the sumo world, which we still have not found a chance to see yet. Well, next season.

PPS: On display in the museum is the Japanese Instrument of Surrender that marked the end of World War Two in Asia. The representative of the Dominion of Canada must have been tired from the years of fighting, because he signed on the line where the Provisional Government of the French Republic was supposed to sign, as a result of which all the following names had to be scratched out and rearranged in hand-writing.

This post directly from the fancy Risonare resort hotel in Kobuchizawa (two hours west of Tokyo) is brought to you in collaboration with Faiz (who until Saturday shall be known as Fuzz), and his ultra-portable, yet well connected (wireless modem) Sharp Zaurus SL C-3000.

We (sixteen DreamArtists) are on a three-day team building training course organised by IWNC, a company that specializes in these kind of endeavours. I chose their somewhat intimidating motto for today's title. They have a bunch of activities in store, of which they keep us on a need-to-know basis. It started with a short walk from the hotel to a tent (it was raining) on something resembling the grounds of a boot-camp, complete with very tall, wooden structures. We were then asked to assign nicknames to ourselves for the duration of the stay ( in an outbreak of originality, I opted for Thilo). We were then divided into two teams of eight, and asked to assemble on top of a small wooden box, keeping our balance long enough for a rendition of a childrens' song.

Having demonstrated that we can hardly perform that feat on firm ground, they made us stand together four at a time on a roughly A3 size wooden platform attached to the top of an eight meter pole. This exercise is called Quadrophenia, probably because it reminded someone of flower blossoms and four falling petals (it reminded Fuzz of his short-lived airforce career instead, though).

Late lunch break with bento boxes. After that, the rain forces us to the indoors, where we are encouraged to discuss our impressions so far (the discussion sessions continued to alternate with the activities). The main afternoon attraction saw us erecting a pole (only about five feet high this time) with a candle on top (unlit, in deference to the resort's stance on fire on the premises) by manipulating it from a distance using ropes, wearing blindfolds.

Dinner was gorgeous, the rooms (three beds, two TVs) notably more spacious than anything in Tokyo short of the Emperor's own lodgings.

Update: Okay, Quadrophenia is an album by The Who, so this is not what the pole exercise was called. The closest thing I could find on Google was Quadrifolia, which makes more sense.

Beginner's course in Chinese. Evening class. Words fail me.

Today was the first annual meeting of the tenants in our apartment building. Actually, it was the second such meeting, as there has already been a constituting session last summer. Both times, this took place in the sports arena of the nearby school, and fortunately it was not as hot today as it was last year.

The day-to-day operations of the building are run by a management company. A group of about ten (randomly chosen, I think) residents forms a supervisory board to control the management company, and the meeting consisted mostly of the board presenting its report concerning the past year. Apparently they have kept expenses well within the budget. In addition to that there have been a couple of issues to vote on, such as the reorganization of the parking garage, the purchase of a solar-powered clock for the playground, additional surveillance cameras, and new rules asking for newspapers to be delivered only to the downstairs mailboxes rather than straight to the apartment door.

A Jim Jarmusch road movie. Don Johnston is what Cissy calls downstream people: He has no aim in life and spends the whole day doing nothing, which in his case means sitting on his couch with a melancholic stare (and that makes Bill Murray ideal for the part). He can afford to do this because he has apparently made a fortune with some kind of computer company in the past. When his girl-friend (Julie Delpy) cannot stand the lethargy anymore and leaves him, and he receives an anonymous letter from an old flame telling him that he has a nineteen-year-old son, his only response is more couch-sitting. Fortunately for the movie, his neighbour Winston (who has three jobs and five children) is intrigued by the mysterious letter, tracks down the five potential mothers , and urges Johnston to go and visit them. One of them died a few years back, the others are a professional closet coordinator (Sharon Stone) with aptly named daughter Lolita, a real estate agent (Frances Conroy) who wanted to be in the bottled-water business, an animal communicator (Jessica Lange), and an angry biker (Tilda Swinton).

6 points

PS: I added an IMDb button to the blog's banner bar. It links to a searchable list of all my movie votes.

Today was the first time since changing jobs that I showed up for work on the weekend. Sure, as a computer guy, I am constantly thinking about my tasks (or at least interesting activities that are somehow related to my actual tasks), and spend time researching and experimenting approaches to tackle them, but that can arguably be considered a hobbiest pursuit, especially as it never involved access to company resources. I have avoided including my home computer into our office virtual LAN, and not requested a key to gain building access after hours. But this time there was no way around it.

I was pleasantly surprised, and take it as a good sign for the company, to find much less people in office on a Saturday than I had expected. In fact, when I arrived at 10, no one was there at all, and I could not even get in until 10:30. I stayed until five o'clock (two hours more than I had planned for, so that I had to skip the sports club that I had promised Cissy to visit in order not to miss the movie) and saw only five coworkers during the whole day.