the end of an era I think.
Moving the house, finishing Uni, saying goodbye to people, breaking up, dreams shattered new dreams formed. getting old, nothing new there. Melbourne is still Melbourne, except everything now is so fucking expensive it hurts to get a haircut, or even have a decent dinner. I need a job.
Sometimes I am lost but most of the time I just walk around without that strong sense of identity I used to be able to feel. I believe in working hard but I just don't know what to work hard for. I have expectations for myself, true, but usually it goes nowhere, like really, no where.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
urbanism, architecture, and prostitution
ok, last post of the day.
There has been a discussion in the studio room about urbanism and the role of architecture in it. F couldn't stress enough how strengthless architects are when it comes to urbanity. "Architects build buildings" Full stop. Urbanism, if it can ever be initiated by a work of architecture, must be as an included derivative but not the fundamental driver. To embed an architectural agenda in the systematic fabrics of an urban agenda, in an already developed city at least, is pointless, and dangerous.
I would probably go further. Everyone loves his profession, so whilst architects consider the city as a latticed web with buildings as its nodes, urban designers think that architecture is simply the solids that fills in the voids in the matrix of streets and roads, and landscape designers may just as well think that modernization is meaningless without the foundation of greens and natural colours. What if for a moment, we consider all these designers' points of views to be complete fallacies, and that the city is merely the city. People goto work, go home, go to the park, to the ball games, to the concerts, to the barbeques, grow old, and die, all in the city, but nothing more than that. It is completely possible that urbanity does not exist for the individual except the absolute essentials that evolve around his limited scope of life. In that case a building, at best, can try to be a prostitute selling her flesh on the side of the street, desperately hoping to catch the pedestrians attention whilst at the same time smoking her thoughts away into some deep philosophical questions.
It all then makes sense, urbanism to architecture is that momentary glimpse into the prostitute's cleavage whilst one walks past on that dodgy laneway; if he stops for the prostitute, they will be engaged in urban activities, and if he doesn't, it would be as if she has never existed, disappeared into the crowd. So then, architecture is, to quote Che Guevera's diary, from memory, "this is not some tale of heroic deeds but the story of two lives running parallel for a short period of time"
There has been a discussion in the studio room about urbanism and the role of architecture in it. F couldn't stress enough how strengthless architects are when it comes to urbanity. "Architects build buildings" Full stop. Urbanism, if it can ever be initiated by a work of architecture, must be as an included derivative but not the fundamental driver. To embed an architectural agenda in the systematic fabrics of an urban agenda, in an already developed city at least, is pointless, and dangerous.
I would probably go further. Everyone loves his profession, so whilst architects consider the city as a latticed web with buildings as its nodes, urban designers think that architecture is simply the solids that fills in the voids in the matrix of streets and roads, and landscape designers may just as well think that modernization is meaningless without the foundation of greens and natural colours. What if for a moment, we consider all these designers' points of views to be complete fallacies, and that the city is merely the city. People goto work, go home, go to the park, to the ball games, to the concerts, to the barbeques, grow old, and die, all in the city, but nothing more than that. It is completely possible that urbanity does not exist for the individual except the absolute essentials that evolve around his limited scope of life. In that case a building, at best, can try to be a prostitute selling her flesh on the side of the street, desperately hoping to catch the pedestrians attention whilst at the same time smoking her thoughts away into some deep philosophical questions.
It all then makes sense, urbanism to architecture is that momentary glimpse into the prostitute's cleavage whilst one walks past on that dodgy laneway; if he stops for the prostitute, they will be engaged in urban activities, and if he doesn't, it would be as if she has never existed, disappeared into the crowd. So then, architecture is, to quote Che Guevera's diary, from memory, "this is not some tale of heroic deeds but the story of two lives running parallel for a short period of time"
Monday, November 9, 2009
three degrees of alienation
After a few hours of driving and waiting the powder printed model arrived.
We have a lot of expectations. This is something we have worked so hard for, and yet with all the calculations and detailing, we are completely vulnerable now as the fate of our design is well beyond our controls, but in the hands of some machines far away from here.
What if it doesn't look good, or if it doesn't fit together? With our knowledge thus far in this area we know that if it works in computer usually it wouldn't be too far off in reality, but then being in this faculty for long enough, we also know that shit happens, very often. This is also some new experience for us, like the first time we used the large format printer or the laser cutter, the process was not gradual; it is input and output, very sudden, almost magical, if it fails the only option is to start from zero. The gap between creation and the creators.
For a few months now I have been asking myself, so how are all these relevant? We have by now tons of explainatary diagrams, photographs, models and process documentation. The book that was compiled is almost unrecognizable. Suddenly without realization we have produced so much work. But for the passersby this would read like some mythical codes only to be appreciated from a distance but never to be understood. What if it does get built, would we then have answered a lot of questions, or posted more? Will we strike some social debate? Will our form even be appreciated and treasured? I just don't know. The excitement and challenge of this way of approach to architecture is that, I guess, the inevitable gap between the architects and the finished product. Yes, We did make it, but like something organic on its own, it grows and manifests its existence in ways that are unpredictable, sometimes beautifully so, sometimes, just unpredictable. Here we have, the gap between perception and reality.
In a way, however, this unpredictability is what we really appreciate about architecture. Photos tell a lot of stories of buildings, but there are always the hidden, the symbolic and the extremely subtle qualities of the materiality itself that can only be appreciated in person. Parametrics, in this way, create a whole new depth to this subtle beauty that previously only existed on a philosophical level. We can't control the unpredictable, but we set up parameters for the materiality, the form, and the mathematical contemplations to interact with each other; they will present themselves as a unique, spectacular object.
Then there is the problem of preservation. It is one thing to preserve physically this fragile model in a well protected box; another to preserve the experiences that we gain from this project, process them, and carry onward. Is it even possible to be carried onwards? What the hell have we really learnt from this? Somewhere along the lines, the repeated precedures of complications and simplifications, somehow prevent us from remembering what it is that we have created? And more importantly, if the project does get realized, what will be preserved in the collective conscious: the form, the urban gesture, the materiality, the colour, or maybe just this big piece of the emptiness in the subconscious map? As our project gets more sophisticated and intricate, the more difficult it is to describe in words, or remember, too. Until the point when we have to call it "that thing". We then again, have to face this gap between the existence and its meanings.
We have a lot of expectations. This is something we have worked so hard for, and yet with all the calculations and detailing, we are completely vulnerable now as the fate of our design is well beyond our controls, but in the hands of some machines far away from here.
What if it doesn't look good, or if it doesn't fit together? With our knowledge thus far in this area we know that if it works in computer usually it wouldn't be too far off in reality, but then being in this faculty for long enough, we also know that shit happens, very often. This is also some new experience for us, like the first time we used the large format printer or the laser cutter, the process was not gradual; it is input and output, very sudden, almost magical, if it fails the only option is to start from zero. The gap between creation and the creators.
For a few months now I have been asking myself, so how are all these relevant? We have by now tons of explainatary diagrams, photographs, models and process documentation. The book that was compiled is almost unrecognizable. Suddenly without realization we have produced so much work. But for the passersby this would read like some mythical codes only to be appreciated from a distance but never to be understood. What if it does get built, would we then have answered a lot of questions, or posted more? Will we strike some social debate? Will our form even be appreciated and treasured? I just don't know. The excitement and challenge of this way of approach to architecture is that, I guess, the inevitable gap between the architects and the finished product. Yes, We did make it, but like something organic on its own, it grows and manifests its existence in ways that are unpredictable, sometimes beautifully so, sometimes, just unpredictable. Here we have, the gap between perception and reality.
In a way, however, this unpredictability is what we really appreciate about architecture. Photos tell a lot of stories of buildings, but there are always the hidden, the symbolic and the extremely subtle qualities of the materiality itself that can only be appreciated in person. Parametrics, in this way, create a whole new depth to this subtle beauty that previously only existed on a philosophical level. We can't control the unpredictable, but we set up parameters for the materiality, the form, and the mathematical contemplations to interact with each other; they will present themselves as a unique, spectacular object.
Then there is the problem of preservation. It is one thing to preserve physically this fragile model in a well protected box; another to preserve the experiences that we gain from this project, process them, and carry onward. Is it even possible to be carried onwards? What the hell have we really learnt from this? Somewhere along the lines, the repeated precedures of complications and simplifications, somehow prevent us from remembering what it is that we have created? And more importantly, if the project does get realized, what will be preserved in the collective conscious: the form, the urban gesture, the materiality, the colour, or maybe just this big piece of the emptiness in the subconscious map? As our project gets more sophisticated and intricate, the more difficult it is to describe in words, or remember, too. Until the point when we have to call it "that thing". We then again, have to face this gap between the existence and its meanings.
the story of tunnel vision
3 o'clock in the morning, 18 degrees, feels like 32.
A few things prevent me from sleeping. this prolonged state of adrenaline rushed life, endless worries and anxieties about the design project, and even worse worries and anxieties about the future. There are so many what ifs and only ifs sparkling in my brain that it just refuses to take in too much of reality. Architecture sounds like so remote a dream now that I really think about it.
To comment on a few things.
The MUJI addiction. As a gaijin, an alien, I expect that if there's a something that's nice, it's supposed to be unique and going to the place itself is already an event on its own, like Paris. But in Tokyo, MUJI is on top of every major train station, and to pick up a few essentials is so convenient that it doesn't present itself as an experience at all. It explains that, on the other hand, the most expensive item in Tokyo is experiences. The sex industry works in a similar way; whereas in any other city "getting it" is the ultimate content of the service, in Tokyo, "not getting it", and how to creatively not getting it, seems to be the drive behind so many bizarre inventions and innovations. Food is similar too, whereas a trip to Tsukiji market five o'clcok in the morning and two hours of waiting in a long line may be considered experience, the actual fresh fish is sold in such a straight forward traditional way that they don't really charge any higher than anywhere else; whereas a pot of extremely terrible instant tea in Akihabara, just because it's served by some young girls dressed in maid costumes, is nearly just as expensive. The ultimate reasoning after all these is certainly the land price, which makes doing the same thing in Ginza much more expensive than doing the same thing in some outer suburb, as Place in Japan is so deeply embedded in the collective consciousness.
Another thing is Panadol. A recent box that I bought was hermeneutically sealed in plastic wrapping. As a drug they must be so proud that they take extra precautions for their customers to make sure the tablets inside are safe, but as a product, for a skeptical Chinese like me it has raised more questions than answered. It is plainly a statement that says don't believe in the convenient stores that sell their tablets, as they may be secretly swapped; and what if it was opened before and re-wrapped by some dodgy underground operations? It is like Ebay sellers call their Gucci bags genuine, makes themselves all the more suspicious.
A third thing that caught my attention recently is an survey of girls in Shibuya.
http://neojaponisme.com/2009/08/11/kyabajo-japan/
Apparently the average income for a 20 something girl who works as a Kyabajo is 6 million yen a year, and one in five girls aged between 15 and 22 wanted to participate in this profession, according to a mobile phone survey in 2007 and 2008. Whereas the social/moral implications were discussed in the article, here's an interesting comparison, 6 million yen, that's about 80 thousand Australian dollars, that is the graduate salary of high end jobs in Melbourne, such as engineers and financial analysts. Given the nature of the income they will be largely untaxed, which means their income more than doubles ours as lowly architecture graduates, and we are only talking about averages here. One may argue that as a characteristic of the trade one only has a limited time in the industry, but on the other hand it has the best exposure to potentially very rich clients and contacts in the most intimate ways, the industry being the best thermometer of the economy, these girls can practically predict the future of the financial market.
A proposal is that a girl can gather together four of her colleagues and start an investment account. Assuming they are active for five years, and pool in 3million yen into the pot each per annum, the fund will have a value of 75 million yen, or 1 million Australian dollars. And if one gathers 100 of such girls, or twenty accounts, we will end up with a 20 million AUD fund. To spread this money over real estate and low risk financial instruments, it's not unreasonable to achieve 20% returns per annum. And remember that we are talking about 20 million in plain cash, not on credit swap papers, the return will be much higher with a higher risk profile.
I have no idea why I am still awake doing these calculations, but here's a serious challenge to the traditional morale: say no to quick cash. It turns out that, in this credit crunched world, quick cash, rather than empty promises on future returns, is a much lower risk way to live. So it seems.
A few things prevent me from sleeping. this prolonged state of adrenaline rushed life, endless worries and anxieties about the design project, and even worse worries and anxieties about the future. There are so many what ifs and only ifs sparkling in my brain that it just refuses to take in too much of reality. Architecture sounds like so remote a dream now that I really think about it.
To comment on a few things.
The MUJI addiction. As a gaijin, an alien, I expect that if there's a something that's nice, it's supposed to be unique and going to the place itself is already an event on its own, like Paris. But in Tokyo, MUJI is on top of every major train station, and to pick up a few essentials is so convenient that it doesn't present itself as an experience at all. It explains that, on the other hand, the most expensive item in Tokyo is experiences. The sex industry works in a similar way; whereas in any other city "getting it" is the ultimate content of the service, in Tokyo, "not getting it", and how to creatively not getting it, seems to be the drive behind so many bizarre inventions and innovations. Food is similar too, whereas a trip to Tsukiji market five o'clcok in the morning and two hours of waiting in a long line may be considered experience, the actual fresh fish is sold in such a straight forward traditional way that they don't really charge any higher than anywhere else; whereas a pot of extremely terrible instant tea in Akihabara, just because it's served by some young girls dressed in maid costumes, is nearly just as expensive. The ultimate reasoning after all these is certainly the land price, which makes doing the same thing in Ginza much more expensive than doing the same thing in some outer suburb, as Place in Japan is so deeply embedded in the collective consciousness.
Another thing is Panadol. A recent box that I bought was hermeneutically sealed in plastic wrapping. As a drug they must be so proud that they take extra precautions for their customers to make sure the tablets inside are safe, but as a product, for a skeptical Chinese like me it has raised more questions than answered. It is plainly a statement that says don't believe in the convenient stores that sell their tablets, as they may be secretly swapped; and what if it was opened before and re-wrapped by some dodgy underground operations? It is like Ebay sellers call their Gucci bags genuine, makes themselves all the more suspicious.
A third thing that caught my attention recently is an survey of girls in Shibuya.
http://neojaponisme.com/2009/08/11/kyabajo-japan/
Apparently the average income for a 20 something girl who works as a Kyabajo is 6 million yen a year, and one in five girls aged between 15 and 22 wanted to participate in this profession, according to a mobile phone survey in 2007 and 2008. Whereas the social/moral implications were discussed in the article, here's an interesting comparison, 6 million yen, that's about 80 thousand Australian dollars, that is the graduate salary of high end jobs in Melbourne, such as engineers and financial analysts. Given the nature of the income they will be largely untaxed, which means their income more than doubles ours as lowly architecture graduates, and we are only talking about averages here. One may argue that as a characteristic of the trade one only has a limited time in the industry, but on the other hand it has the best exposure to potentially very rich clients and contacts in the most intimate ways, the industry being the best thermometer of the economy, these girls can practically predict the future of the financial market.
A proposal is that a girl can gather together four of her colleagues and start an investment account. Assuming they are active for five years, and pool in 3million yen into the pot each per annum, the fund will have a value of 75 million yen, or 1 million Australian dollars. And if one gathers 100 of such girls, or twenty accounts, we will end up with a 20 million AUD fund. To spread this money over real estate and low risk financial instruments, it's not unreasonable to achieve 20% returns per annum. And remember that we are talking about 20 million in plain cash, not on credit swap papers, the return will be much higher with a higher risk profile.
I have no idea why I am still awake doing these calculations, but here's a serious challenge to the traditional morale: say no to quick cash. It turns out that, in this credit crunched world, quick cash, rather than empty promises on future returns, is a much lower risk way to live. So it seems.
Friday, November 6, 2009
F*** REALITY
or how architecture must be completely self indulgent
The Parallax view describes a curious condition when the apparent conditions of the observed object changes due to the varying position of the observer(s). As perfectly as each of the individual observation is conducted, their results differ, not only quantitatively but qualitatively. Zizek may have proposed that to grasp the essence of the object we should not exhaustively embrace all of the views but rather concentrate on the process of shifting, of going from one position to another; but in reality how much a person has to be able to negate his own subjectivity and his own standpoint to pursue the endless task of floating in between, and remain post-critical?
Which comes to the role of the architect. Generations of architects assign a very important role to themselves in that their work should be obliged to reflect, comment, or criticize on the conditions of the society. From something as detailed as the order of Roman columns used in a temple, to as broad as a social and cultural movement such as post modernism, architects want to get a piece of the action. Then somewhere came the generation of architects who deliberately did not offer any response and ride with the flow of capitalism. Or whatever ism. The pragmatic bunch. The rise of such prominent architects in this genre such as Koolhass should not be a problem for the whole profession, for they are but a branch of big tree, until every major job in the world has been taken away, every spotlight stolen, and every publication is written about/by them. Suddenly one opens a magazine of new Tokyo architecture and sees nothing but the same monolith over and over again. Whatever happened to the voices?
The reasoning behind the phenomenon is simple. In the current world there's only one measurement of success, Money. London was described as such an amazing city with endless possibilities, two years ago, when the banks were thriving; and now that the banks have collapsed, the city suddenly comes to be depicted as a city of sin and greed with poor people exploited by the rich bloodless elite. Although London itself is pretty much the same. When all the clients in the world measure themselves with such a standard, architects don't have a choice but to follow. It's more about survial instinct.
But Money, when you really think about it, is but a derivative expression of supply and demand, which, now we know, may not even have anything to do with the real supply and demand, let alone other more intricate and complicated measurements in our societies and cultures. That is why, unfortunately, the traditional architect couldn't fit in. Forever he is looking through his eyes at this big Real that is so mythical and unattainable, but opens the window only to face a world which looks at reality from a much more superficial and simpler viewpoint. There is your impossible parallax gap.
One day, however, the modern architect decides to give up the self struggle and frustration, walks out of the ivory tower and submits himself to the rules of the Money game. A losing match is immediately guaranteed. As a purely mathematical function of supply and demand, the building industry simply does not need architects. We are possibly the only party involved in the construction process that do not contribute anything material to the pool; builders have their physical strength, client has land and capital, developer has basically everything, and even engineers have their concrete measurements that make sure the building does not collapse; but we, the architects, come up with form, that most of the time only contribute to higher costs. Our criticism and aesthetics have been abandoned by ourselves, and our expertise, as so highly we valued it, is being replaced by computers and repeatable templates.
So how should architects wake up each morning and view themselves in the mirror?
Somewhere along the five years of education in this university, among the endless existentialist conversations and postapocalyptal imaginations of our own futures, it suddenly occurs to me the beauty and power of architecture, at this age, is no longer the final product of the creative process, but rather the process from which the final product is born. In any other faculty, no groups of young people in their 20s will be awake 2 o'clock in the morning constantly discussing the juxtaposition between urbanity and modernity, society and history, computer graphics and presentation. Whereas the product of architecture can never stir the same social response as much as the Pyramid, the Forbidden City, or even the stupid CCTV tower once did, this process is on the other hand something much more than a mere degree: a completely developed and developing vocabulary, a consistent history and aesthetics, an endless pursuit of novelty, endless self creation of problems and solutions to them through self-justified logic....architecture for us, like JRR Tolkien and JK Rowling, Google and Facebook, has become a parallel reality. The only way to survive and prosper, i.e. Pragmatic, whatever that means, is to engage passionately in this parallel reality with the courage to make no compromises.
My thesis project, the Parallax Tower, building on this firm belief of mine, is hence a complete set of bullshit. I reject the idea of the site, I don't really care about the brief, I am not bothered to put a single human in the presentation and I don't even know most of the numbers in my building. I'm sure they are all about right, but beyond that I just don't really care. I'll in all good faith accept criticism on these grounds. But on the other hand, it's a self justified set of bullshit. It's a world with endless references that I create and I absolutely love it. The only way to convince me that it's rubbish this way is to build it in reality and show me the undeniable facts.
There's no room for compromise. I'm not dwelling on some proud utopian dreams of a soon to be graduate; I'm talking about survival, as the second I give up my own parallel world all that I have is 12 A1 sheets of lines and colour blocks that are never going to be realized or remembered; and in reality, the moment the architect drops his own world, he immediately becomes a business man, usually an unsuccessful one, who doesn't even have a say in anything. There is no shortage of such business men in other parts of the society.
So what about money? Where on earth can a self indulgent architect who engages in his own world get clients and projects? Who would even listen to him? Of course there is no guarantee, and by the sound of it there seems to be much more risks, but it was the same situation for the two self indulgent computer geeks who wanted to download the whole internet onto their hard drive and catalogue it, which became Google. Who says architects can't create fashion, fine food, inter continental logistics modules, or financial investment strategies that actually work, and still, remain faithful to what they indulge in, this parallel universe of theirs? What's the point of calling oneself an architect, on the other hand, if all that one works on is building?
Coming back to the Parallax view, and Zizek's point that to understand and achieve something meaningful, to capture some qualities of the Real, one must be able to shift between the various parallax Views and experience the empty gap. My understanding of this shifting process will never achieve his Heideggerian depths but I consider it be a deliberate, artificial creation of something out of one's world, impossible to the Darwinian logic, but something that does not quite belong to another world either (a self justified circle). Due to its inherent fragility it can be easily negated and denied (e.g. you hate it), but in its brief moment of existence, it creates a unique sense of placelessness (in my case, the over crowded inferno) that gives us an insight into the impossibility of its fairy-tale quality; and from this negated impossibility (the inevitable fallacy of my tower), one is able to contemplate on its Other, i.e. the It. (negation of negation). To view one's own reflection, we use not bones and skin in the image of ourselves but rather something metallic with a smooth surface; sorry for the clumsy metaphor.
At the end I have been talking about my design method without really talking about it. But I think the point is made. As kids we like things that are unreal: marry-go-around, see saw, slides, monkey bars, and sand castle. Don't you just wonder what architecture can be more stupid and pointless, yet more radical and unique, than a ladder that directly leads to a slide, or a circular steel plate that transport you to exactly the same spot over and over again? But it's all about the existentialist process, isn't it?
m.
The Parallax view describes a curious condition when the apparent conditions of the observed object changes due to the varying position of the observer(s). As perfectly as each of the individual observation is conducted, their results differ, not only quantitatively but qualitatively. Zizek may have proposed that to grasp the essence of the object we should not exhaustively embrace all of the views but rather concentrate on the process of shifting, of going from one position to another; but in reality how much a person has to be able to negate his own subjectivity and his own standpoint to pursue the endless task of floating in between, and remain post-critical?
Which comes to the role of the architect. Generations of architects assign a very important role to themselves in that their work should be obliged to reflect, comment, or criticize on the conditions of the society. From something as detailed as the order of Roman columns used in a temple, to as broad as a social and cultural movement such as post modernism, architects want to get a piece of the action. Then somewhere came the generation of architects who deliberately did not offer any response and ride with the flow of capitalism. Or whatever ism. The pragmatic bunch. The rise of such prominent architects in this genre such as Koolhass should not be a problem for the whole profession, for they are but a branch of big tree, until every major job in the world has been taken away, every spotlight stolen, and every publication is written about/by them. Suddenly one opens a magazine of new Tokyo architecture and sees nothing but the same monolith over and over again. Whatever happened to the voices?
The reasoning behind the phenomenon is simple. In the current world there's only one measurement of success, Money. London was described as such an amazing city with endless possibilities, two years ago, when the banks were thriving; and now that the banks have collapsed, the city suddenly comes to be depicted as a city of sin and greed with poor people exploited by the rich bloodless elite. Although London itself is pretty much the same. When all the clients in the world measure themselves with such a standard, architects don't have a choice but to follow. It's more about survial instinct.
But Money, when you really think about it, is but a derivative expression of supply and demand, which, now we know, may not even have anything to do with the real supply and demand, let alone other more intricate and complicated measurements in our societies and cultures. That is why, unfortunately, the traditional architect couldn't fit in. Forever he is looking through his eyes at this big Real that is so mythical and unattainable, but opens the window only to face a world which looks at reality from a much more superficial and simpler viewpoint. There is your impossible parallax gap.
One day, however, the modern architect decides to give up the self struggle and frustration, walks out of the ivory tower and submits himself to the rules of the Money game. A losing match is immediately guaranteed. As a purely mathematical function of supply and demand, the building industry simply does not need architects. We are possibly the only party involved in the construction process that do not contribute anything material to the pool; builders have their physical strength, client has land and capital, developer has basically everything, and even engineers have their concrete measurements that make sure the building does not collapse; but we, the architects, come up with form, that most of the time only contribute to higher costs. Our criticism and aesthetics have been abandoned by ourselves, and our expertise, as so highly we valued it, is being replaced by computers and repeatable templates.
So how should architects wake up each morning and view themselves in the mirror?
Somewhere along the five years of education in this university, among the endless existentialist conversations and postapocalyptal imaginations of our own futures, it suddenly occurs to me the beauty and power of architecture, at this age, is no longer the final product of the creative process, but rather the process from which the final product is born. In any other faculty, no groups of young people in their 20s will be awake 2 o'clock in the morning constantly discussing the juxtaposition between urbanity and modernity, society and history, computer graphics and presentation. Whereas the product of architecture can never stir the same social response as much as the Pyramid, the Forbidden City, or even the stupid CCTV tower once did, this process is on the other hand something much more than a mere degree: a completely developed and developing vocabulary, a consistent history and aesthetics, an endless pursuit of novelty, endless self creation of problems and solutions to them through self-justified logic....architecture for us, like JRR Tolkien and JK Rowling, Google and Facebook, has become a parallel reality. The only way to survive and prosper, i.e. Pragmatic, whatever that means, is to engage passionately in this parallel reality with the courage to make no compromises.
My thesis project, the Parallax Tower, building on this firm belief of mine, is hence a complete set of bullshit. I reject the idea of the site, I don't really care about the brief, I am not bothered to put a single human in the presentation and I don't even know most of the numbers in my building. I'm sure they are all about right, but beyond that I just don't really care. I'll in all good faith accept criticism on these grounds. But on the other hand, it's a self justified set of bullshit. It's a world with endless references that I create and I absolutely love it. The only way to convince me that it's rubbish this way is to build it in reality and show me the undeniable facts.
There's no room for compromise. I'm not dwelling on some proud utopian dreams of a soon to be graduate; I'm talking about survival, as the second I give up my own parallel world all that I have is 12 A1 sheets of lines and colour blocks that are never going to be realized or remembered; and in reality, the moment the architect drops his own world, he immediately becomes a business man, usually an unsuccessful one, who doesn't even have a say in anything. There is no shortage of such business men in other parts of the society.
So what about money? Where on earth can a self indulgent architect who engages in his own world get clients and projects? Who would even listen to him? Of course there is no guarantee, and by the sound of it there seems to be much more risks, but it was the same situation for the two self indulgent computer geeks who wanted to download the whole internet onto their hard drive and catalogue it, which became Google. Who says architects can't create fashion, fine food, inter continental logistics modules, or financial investment strategies that actually work, and still, remain faithful to what they indulge in, this parallel universe of theirs? What's the point of calling oneself an architect, on the other hand, if all that one works on is building?
Coming back to the Parallax view, and Zizek's point that to understand and achieve something meaningful, to capture some qualities of the Real, one must be able to shift between the various parallax Views and experience the empty gap. My understanding of this shifting process will never achieve his Heideggerian depths but I consider it be a deliberate, artificial creation of something out of one's world, impossible to the Darwinian logic, but something that does not quite belong to another world either (a self justified circle). Due to its inherent fragility it can be easily negated and denied (e.g. you hate it), but in its brief moment of existence, it creates a unique sense of placelessness (in my case, the over crowded inferno) that gives us an insight into the impossibility of its fairy-tale quality; and from this negated impossibility (the inevitable fallacy of my tower), one is able to contemplate on its Other, i.e. the It. (negation of negation). To view one's own reflection, we use not bones and skin in the image of ourselves but rather something metallic with a smooth surface; sorry for the clumsy metaphor.
At the end I have been talking about my design method without really talking about it. But I think the point is made. As kids we like things that are unreal: marry-go-around, see saw, slides, monkey bars, and sand castle. Don't you just wonder what architecture can be more stupid and pointless, yet more radical and unique, than a ladder that directly leads to a slide, or a circular steel plate that transport you to exactly the same spot over and over again? But it's all about the existentialist process, isn't it?
m.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Shibuya
…and here I stand in front of an ancient temple in Kamakura, half an hour’s train away from Shibuya, where everything was flooded with energy and instantaneous satisfaction. Night has fallen. Young monks are walking towards the canteen, but some on motocycles and some talking on their ultra-slimy mobile phones. But the old timber buildings remained affectionately calm, indifferent to what happens around them, for nearly a thousand years.
Among this silent peacefulness, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m surrounded by spirits. Uncontrolly I fear and respect for something big and powerful around me, maybe it’s called nature, or ghosts, or the great Otherness than makes me so emotionally vulnerable. Maybe this is where all the bowing and politeness came from, this great respect for the unknown, which extends to other fellow human beings; a unique sentimentality that accompanied them through the endless tsunami and earthquakes.
Half an hour later I’m in Shibuya again. Three huge screens occupying the glazed facades of the buildings continue to display synchronized advertising images, each lasting exactly ten seconds. Under them is the famous “Scramble Crossing”, a crazy traffic intersection where 3 million people stampled upon everyday. 45 seconds for the pedestrians, a minute and a half for the cars, repeated indefinitely. I soon got lost in the crowds, deafened by the noises of this chaotic circus that can never quiet down…
Among this silent peacefulness, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m surrounded by spirits. Uncontrolly I fear and respect for something big and powerful around me, maybe it’s called nature, or ghosts, or the great Otherness than makes me so emotionally vulnerable. Maybe this is where all the bowing and politeness came from, this great respect for the unknown, which extends to other fellow human beings; a unique sentimentality that accompanied them through the endless tsunami and earthquakes.
Half an hour later I’m in Shibuya again. Three huge screens occupying the glazed facades of the buildings continue to display synchronized advertising images, each lasting exactly ten seconds. Under them is the famous “Scramble Crossing”, a crazy traffic intersection where 3 million people stampled upon everyday. 45 seconds for the pedestrians, a minute and a half for the cars, repeated indefinitely. I soon got lost in the crowds, deafened by the noises of this chaotic circus that can never quiet down…
Friday, July 10, 2009
the whole world will be Japanized
after much silence I feel that I have something to say again, with rather high level of confidence. The ten years following Japan's real estate and monetary system collapse had sculpted the economic character of the nation for more than ten years, the lost decade they called it. The fact is that they still have not walked out of the shadows of the crisis, even though much has changed, and on the surface, Japan is so beautiful and exquisite in so many aspects that it is very difficult to convince yourself that it is actually in a deep state of trouble. And how is that related to the world today?
Consider juices. It used to be that there are two types of juices, the real expensive ones and the fake cheap ones that you buy from Safeway in litres. Then they mixed it up, there are real ones with a bit of artificial flavours to spice it up, fake ones with xx% of real juices to look more genuine, and then there are the extra fresh ones, and then there are the intentionally artificial ones like V or Mother, proudly poisonous. This is a process of diversification that fills in the grey area of the market that used to be only black or white. The extreme case of this is Japan, where there are a thousand different styles and niched products for every single type of merchandise.
But economically speaking, the idea of coming up with bottled juices created new markets in our economy, generating jobs, consumption and production that were not available before, whilst diversifying one type of juices into a thousand, mainly just disperses the demand onto thin ice without really creating anything new except maybe for the marketing industry. This is what Japan has been doing in the last decades in my opinion, creating fashions after fashions of stuff that shuffles money here and there. So it doesn't matter how exquisitely made Japanese culture is, they are meant to be fucked forever, slowly. It lacks an aggressive government and relevant financial capabilities to boost and expand, as it did from the 50s to 70s.
Now as we see in the aftermath of the government stimulus packages, the whole world is suffering but so far we don't hear many governments dismantled. It's the beginning of a prolonged process of diversification. Money would be continuously controlled by the failing giants who will come up with successful solutions every once in a while. Mitsubishi would still be mitsubishi, toyota still toyota, but their roles changed, no longer the leader that guides the rest, but the leader that prevents others from climbing to the top. The world would become more beautiful, with better notebooks, better pens, better facial products, but be prepared for an economy that goes nowhere for decades to come. In this new big Japan, look for big nations with a central government, they will the last samurais in the Meiji time.
Consider juices. It used to be that there are two types of juices, the real expensive ones and the fake cheap ones that you buy from Safeway in litres. Then they mixed it up, there are real ones with a bit of artificial flavours to spice it up, fake ones with xx% of real juices to look more genuine, and then there are the extra fresh ones, and then there are the intentionally artificial ones like V or Mother, proudly poisonous. This is a process of diversification that fills in the grey area of the market that used to be only black or white. The extreme case of this is Japan, where there are a thousand different styles and niched products for every single type of merchandise.
But economically speaking, the idea of coming up with bottled juices created new markets in our economy, generating jobs, consumption and production that were not available before, whilst diversifying one type of juices into a thousand, mainly just disperses the demand onto thin ice without really creating anything new except maybe for the marketing industry. This is what Japan has been doing in the last decades in my opinion, creating fashions after fashions of stuff that shuffles money here and there. So it doesn't matter how exquisitely made Japanese culture is, they are meant to be fucked forever, slowly. It lacks an aggressive government and relevant financial capabilities to boost and expand, as it did from the 50s to 70s.
Now as we see in the aftermath of the government stimulus packages, the whole world is suffering but so far we don't hear many governments dismantled. It's the beginning of a prolonged process of diversification. Money would be continuously controlled by the failing giants who will come up with successful solutions every once in a while. Mitsubishi would still be mitsubishi, toyota still toyota, but their roles changed, no longer the leader that guides the rest, but the leader that prevents others from climbing to the top. The world would become more beautiful, with better notebooks, better pens, better facial products, but be prepared for an economy that goes nowhere for decades to come. In this new big Japan, look for big nations with a central government, they will the last samurais in the Meiji time.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Stock markets worldwide, especially in Asia, have been seeing some significant recoveries over the last week. Economic data has been bad, as usual, but not as bad as it used to be, but it helps to see G-20 leaders meet for some constructive actions, including a new injection to the IMF. A few key statistics turned out to be better than the profession expected. Commodities picked up their prices again. Dows back to 8000, Gold on 920, Oil mid 50s. Some chief economists at some funds are already recommending their clients to get into the market, expecting the economy to recover in the second half of 2009.
What the fuck? Are you serious?
If I’m not mistaken, those banks, insurance companies, and car manufacturers are still hanging there, waiting to be hung, or dead and gone already? My feeling is that the financial crisis has started long before it is even picked up by the prophets on high street but if one considers the forbidden d word, I think it has not even started. “We’ve gone through the worst of the worst?”In five years time people will start talking about how we should have suffered the pain instead of prolonging the real crisis but a fake recovery. Sadly, the general atmosphere over the media gives out an eager to impress attitude, which may unfortunately be reflecting the typical short term thinking of the pea sized brains. It seems that they are already building another bubble.
When I said pea size brains I didn’t mean it as an attack but a mere observation for the lack of uniqueness and independent thinking, but plenty of trend following and bullshitting. I must keep this remembered in my mind, as professor D. once said “(talking about universities in the states) America is such a country that a young, good looking young man/woman can stand up in an auditorium of one thousand people, confidently saying something loud and point driven, but saying something that is completely nonsense, absolutely rubbish.”
Friday, April 3, 2009
fuck
I have my practice account investment value wiped out roughly 80% in two seconds by a sudden jump of the Euro/USD as the ECB announced key IR to 1.25% from 1.5%, instead of the expected 1%. I went in blind and I went in uninformed, which was a grave mistake on my part. Should I be investing with real money the result is unthinkable. And I must put it on my priority list to find out what the fuck it means when they say “investors’ expectation”. Shit, how complacent I was to actually believe that the ECB will have the balls to cut .5% or even more?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
article: EU Greenhouse-Gas Emissions Drop 6%
Basically the point I’m trying to make here is, that I’m right. Lol. Common sense finally rules over speculative moral marketing bombardment that we saw in the last few years. The problem with pollution, Al Gore, and unsustainable living is that it is a problem that is the symptom of the economy, not the cause.
A lot of environmentalist campaigns would have quoted Ghandi in saying the earth can satisfy our need but not our greed, something like that; but the logical deduction from this word of wisdom is not that we should live morally and limit only to our need, because that would be stupid, but that living on our greed is not sustainable, and hence one day this way of living will collapse, automatically.
I’m a big fan of green energy, sustainable cities, and disciplined economies in favour of triple bottom lines, economical, social and environmental. But on top of all that I’m a big fan of good sense. Showering the world with moral messages to promote a new generation of economic products invested by a new generation of capitalists is not good sense. It’s brain washing and media pollution.
Consider this unlikely candidate, China. In the last couple of years a few things happened in China, due to massive amounts of pressure from international pressure groups, but also, the simple rule of supply and demand: plastic bags in supermarkets costs about fifty cents each; in a lot of government backed building projects, solar hot water provided for free; cities where there’s not enough electricity, turn off the unnecessary power that lights up the commercial buildings at night; new public urban developments, L.E.D. lights covered.
A lot of these things happened in the more advanced and economically well off cities, but there is a sense of action you can see. There is no lobbying, no hesitation, and certainly no consideration on whether 50 cents a plastic bag will upset some French billionaire investor on his supermarket chain stores. You either follow the rules or you see yourself to the lift, plain simple. We are not a country that lives on extravagance, when there’s niche to save money, we’ll do it, on government level, and on individual level. Even the Benz driving cigar smoking corporate bosses over forty five remember what it was like decades ago when there was no food, when brothers and sisters swelled into balloons due to hunger and died; whilst the LV wearing cognac drinking young elites over thirty certainly can’t forget the early days in the city when chaos and violence and uncertainty ruled, working their lives off for no more than a warm food and bed everyday. There’s no morality involved, but fifty cents saved is fifty cents saved, our collective memories, just as our collective reality, is nothing but that sense of urgency. THAT is how you get something done.
It is not a good sign when a city is turning itself into a tourist attraction. Think about Rome, or Paris, generating loads of income through whatever they do in tourist cities these days, living an extended exhibition show curated by the stones and sticks laid down centuries ago, their intrinsic meaning long dead and buried in history. For Obama’s sake it is Rome, the name that used to mean conquer and brutality and power, now merely decayed in the dusts of time.
The best comparison is Hong Kong, actually. In the last financial crisis about ten years ago, the city lost its financial edge and decided to promote an image of a world tourist city, then afterwards a high tech city, then afterwards a Chinese traditional medicine city, among other totally random and uncreative new names. It doesn’t work. A city has a life span that cannot be reversed. It must die, and then wait in the queue for its chance to revive. Germany did it, Japan did it, Barcelona did it, and arguably China too.
Theatre is culture, certainly? Not for Singapore. Culture is most effective for a bored and complacent society, like ancient Greece, or America in the 70s; or most edge cutting in times of revolutions, like the 18th and 19th centuries. But for a people like Singapore, and at a time like this, theatre is but Viagra, you know it’s not going to do you any good.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
today in the news
Obama to Announce New Strategic Dialogue With China
Mr. President, clearly, has not yet made up his mind with regards to whether to visit China personally or not. Everyone knows the name of the new treasury secretary Timonthy Geithner as he busies himself with all the failing banks and car factories. Putting him on the job as well as Secretary of State Hilary Clinton is a formal political gesture that recognizes the importance of the counterparty. But then dealing with China without making personal connections first seems like buying dinner over the internet, which works perfectly well in principle but lacks a personal touch that may be crucial.
When it comes to a personal visit Obama may consider it a politically challenging gesture to pay China without first making sure that he will be treated properly in return, that the carpets will be rolled out for him. Given the economic tension in the states and the G-20 meeting, moreover, it doesn’t seem like a convenient time.
On the other end of the ocean, however, China is getting anxious and impatient with its 2 trillion US reserves that are declining in value day by day as BOA keeps printing money, given no realistic alternatives but to keep purchasing even more. Then some noises were made last week regarding a global currency, etc. etc. One would expect the economical brains in China are now squeezing themselves to think of a more rewarding, alternative approach. If I were Obama, I wouldn’t be so passionately seeing British prime minister Gordon Brown before the meeting, but making friends with the Asians instead. Britain is screwed anyway, leave them alone.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
What am I writing? More importantly why am I writing? What justify/justifies my right/obligation/urge to be moving my fingers on my Lenovo laptop and keying in a series of characters loosely bound together by linguistic rules according to my poor understanding. What determines my role in this modest little virtual space in this rhizomatic infinitely growing network, the gigantic monster of Babel which is now known as the Internet? How dare I analyze, remember, or even, to do the unspeakable, predict? I don’t understand/know anything.
These are the questions I have been asking myself, just now when I was watching Diving bell and the butterfly. I’m a decidedly inpatient person, but somehow I did not exert my control on the progression of the film by dragging the media player button. It was a very good film.
Then after the film I called my Dad.
* * * * *
Sonia was doing some group assignment with another five people from her class. The topic has got something to do with teamwork spirit, which suggests that the power of the team exceeds that of the arithmetic sum of the individuals.
I was honored enough to design a quick logo for this group of six.
 | I rarely feel happy about anything I do but this seems to be a satisfactory result giving that I was still half asleep when informed with the assignment. Sonia was happy too. That’s what’s important. Well, the name of their team, which I convenient borrowed from my studio group this semester, is so powerful that it can mean anything. |
* * * * *
The current economic problem that bothers me so much that I almost feel nauseous thinking about it. As soon as the Obama government put down the signature on a bail-out plan that exerted majority control over the much troubled AIG, the company immediately paid out the money to their executives, especially those who are working in the Credit Default Swaps division, responsible for bringing the AIG to the deep trouble in the first place.
People are angry, but the government cannot do anything because the potential legal actions would have resulted in more damages and legal expenditure than the money they paid out.
I understand the pay out. It’s perfectly smart, logical and legal. But overnight my faith in capitalism was almost shattered and strangely strengthened at the same time. It has become so predictable. The recent events simply display no American spirit, liberalism, or unexpected altruism. It has come to this point where bankers are simply no more sophisticated than porn-watching wankers in suits.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
on making an all-or-nothing choice
Our incredible friend S, who rather sadly seems to be the only one I know who plays music, has just recently purchased on cash a new digital piano. As similar to a lot of other all-or-nothing financial decisions of considerable magnitude, the choice was difficult to make simply due to the variety of choices available.
An expensive piano has amazing sound qualities, and it also has considerable re-sale value, when the owner has had enough of it, but of course the problem is that it is more expensive; a cheaper one, on the other hand, is most difficult to re-sell, and the sounds are terrible, but then you inevitably have the self-doubt about whether you will actually spend a lot of time on the expensive piano "this time", as opposed to all those years you have abandoned the art and craft of it. Between these two extremes there are a whole spectrum of choices, not to mention the consideration of colour, design, and fancy functionalities that vary greatly from piece to piece.
There is also the consideration of time, which involves questions like "should I buy it right here, right now, or should I wait for the factory sale of another place another time?", "should I buy it now when the dollar is cheap, or should I wait for it to go even lower?"
The solution should be relatively simple, assuming that we are aiming to get the most all of the decision. It is what the decision is about, all, or nothing. You should either go all in and buy the most expensive piano that, one, makes you happy, and two, can be afforded by your budget, or you should feed your financial security by keeping all the cash.
Buying something in the middle, assuming you can afford 2000 dollars and you have spent 1000 on the piano, would mean that if later you can't stand the sound of the keyboard you cannot improve your happiness by buying another piano priced at 1000. It just doesn't work that way.
What if you have now spent all your 2000 precious dollars and find out that there is something very very similar (but slightly less as good) priced at 1500? Aren't you supposed to feel bad about losing 500 dollars (a month's rent)? The answer is no. As a piano is not simply a gold bar, or a bucket of wheat, or a tonne of copper (which is called Commodities), it is in fact more than the accumulation of sound technology and craftmanship (which is called Services). A piano at the same time priceless and worthless, it is an experience (individual and collective perception).
As a result of paying 500 dollars more than you would have otherwise done, you practise more, you love your piano more, you are more proud of it, and you are more willing to play it to your friends, which all enhances the experience. You know that this 2000 dollar piano is not as nice as the 2500 dollar model which has yet more functions and better sound quality, but that's all you could afford so there was no regret. After playing a few months you realize it's really a smart choice as it worths much more than you would have valued the 2000 dollars (which could have been spent on shoes now that you would have been less happy and gone shopping more). And you are definitely more than happy with the choice that you didn't buy the 1000 dollar model, even though 1000 sounded hugely expensive as well the first time you heard it.
Having this story in mind, take a look at the articles below.
Paul Krugman
TPM
Washington Post
An expensive piano has amazing sound qualities, and it also has considerable re-sale value, when the owner has had enough of it, but of course the problem is that it is more expensive; a cheaper one, on the other hand, is most difficult to re-sell, and the sounds are terrible, but then you inevitably have the self-doubt about whether you will actually spend a lot of time on the expensive piano "this time", as opposed to all those years you have abandoned the art and craft of it. Between these two extremes there are a whole spectrum of choices, not to mention the consideration of colour, design, and fancy functionalities that vary greatly from piece to piece.
There is also the consideration of time, which involves questions like "should I buy it right here, right now, or should I wait for the factory sale of another place another time?", "should I buy it now when the dollar is cheap, or should I wait for it to go even lower?"
The solution should be relatively simple, assuming that we are aiming to get the most all of the decision. It is what the decision is about, all, or nothing. You should either go all in and buy the most expensive piano that, one, makes you happy, and two, can be afforded by your budget, or you should feed your financial security by keeping all the cash.
Buying something in the middle, assuming you can afford 2000 dollars and you have spent 1000 on the piano, would mean that if later you can't stand the sound of the keyboard you cannot improve your happiness by buying another piano priced at 1000. It just doesn't work that way.
What if you have now spent all your 2000 precious dollars and find out that there is something very very similar (but slightly less as good) priced at 1500? Aren't you supposed to feel bad about losing 500 dollars (a month's rent)? The answer is no. As a piano is not simply a gold bar, or a bucket of wheat, or a tonne of copper (which is called Commodities), it is in fact more than the accumulation of sound technology and craftmanship (which is called Services). A piano at the same time priceless and worthless, it is an experience (individual and collective perception).
As a result of paying 500 dollars more than you would have otherwise done, you practise more, you love your piano more, you are more proud of it, and you are more willing to play it to your friends, which all enhances the experience. You know that this 2000 dollar piano is not as nice as the 2500 dollar model which has yet more functions and better sound quality, but that's all you could afford so there was no regret. After playing a few months you realize it's really a smart choice as it worths much more than you would have valued the 2000 dollars (which could have been spent on shoes now that you would have been less happy and gone shopping more). And you are definitely more than happy with the choice that you didn't buy the 1000 dollar model, even though 1000 sounded hugely expensive as well the first time you heard it.
Having this story in mind, take a look at the articles below.
Paul Krugman
TPM
Washington Post
Friday, March 6, 2009
It has become something like a homework thing to read the various articles on Wall Street Journal and NY Times before I goto bed. And sometimes an article will come up and you'd be so annoyed that some people just don't get it.
See Article
First of all this is not a recession, this is a depression. There are thousands of ways to technically define a depression but the truth is if you have a million dollars in hand right now chances are you do not dare to put it in long term investments such as the housing market, or short term such as stocks, and let me guess you probably wouldn't want to put it in oil or even gold, let alone starting a new industrial company that does green technology. Some people will buy government bonds, some people will test their luck in the stock market but nothing too dramatic. The thing is, if no one is investing the way for tomorrow, there won't be a bright one. Trust me, this is a depression.
Second of all, 14 more months? Are you fucking kidding me? A monetary speculation of some Asian country lasts 14 months, a small political unrest lasts 14 months, a financial crisis caused by global credit crunch does not last 14 months, it will have the impact that will last for a century, like the last Depression did, and we will experience the major impact of it in the five to ten years to come, at least. 14 months? By then the governments would be running out of means and reserves to save their economies, that would be the time when the depression actually STARTs. So hold your breath CFOs, whatever that means.
p.s. just because the economy is in deep trouble doesn't mean that we should be too, troubles means reshuffling of world order, we should actually benefit from this whole turmoil, if we are not too stupid. Look at it this way, no good positions in any companies would have been available if the people in them are not fired, right?
See Article
First of all this is not a recession, this is a depression. There are thousands of ways to technically define a depression but the truth is if you have a million dollars in hand right now chances are you do not dare to put it in long term investments such as the housing market, or short term such as stocks, and let me guess you probably wouldn't want to put it in oil or even gold, let alone starting a new industrial company that does green technology. Some people will buy government bonds, some people will test their luck in the stock market but nothing too dramatic. The thing is, if no one is investing the way for tomorrow, there won't be a bright one. Trust me, this is a depression.
Second of all, 14 more months? Are you fucking kidding me? A monetary speculation of some Asian country lasts 14 months, a small political unrest lasts 14 months, a financial crisis caused by global credit crunch does not last 14 months, it will have the impact that will last for a century, like the last Depression did, and we will experience the major impact of it in the five to ten years to come, at least. 14 months? By then the governments would be running out of means and reserves to save their economies, that would be the time when the depression actually STARTs. So hold your breath CFOs, whatever that means.
p.s. just because the economy is in deep trouble doesn't mean that we should be too, troubles means reshuffling of world order, we should actually benefit from this whole turmoil, if we are not too stupid. Look at it this way, no good positions in any companies would have been available if the people in them are not fired, right?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Yet another wonderful deed aimed to save the environment.
Refer to the Economist's special report on a German town called Sieben linden, where people put consumption and waste a top issue on their collective conscience.
Economist Article
It's all very good. I always fail to explain myself clearly enough on issues of philanthropy and environmental issues, probably because I'm not entirely sure of it myself. Or worst still, the people who are actively involved, failed to convince me as I'm not quite sure if they know what they are doing.
On the Sieben Linden eco-town issue. For the people who live in the town, it's nice and comfortable, and doing something like this feeds their conscience well. But for the rest of humanity, it's almost pointless. Repeat, other than an interesting intellectual exercise, it's almost pointless.
Germany is one of the most developed industrial countries in the world, and they get here by creating and exporting wonderful machines, those powerful engines who create the main pollutants of the world. I'm not using the same sentimental judgement on the environmentalists, but the fact is, without the abundance of wealth and technology accumulated over the decades, this place called Sieben Linden would never have come into existence.
It doesn't matter how Utopian a life the eco villagers live, they are living under the social wellfare system of Germany, and they are educated by the wonderful German education system. Hence they created this town by choice, not by necessity; which is another way of saying they get what they want and not what they need. African villages do the same kind of things, but out of necessity, they are too poor to do otherwise; they are not as inspiring as an eco message because, well, they are not Germans who choose to abandon their BMWs, but in terms of sustainability and innovation it's much much more respectable.
One may think that it's ok to pursue what they want if the subject is something good for the planet; tell that to the banks and investment funds and insurance companies who invented the great mathematical tool to combine toxic assets and create AAA bundles, just a couple years ago they must have been thinking they are doing the humanity a favour by utilizing economic resources that would otherwise have been lying around doing nothing.
The truth is, reality is simple, having been pretty much the same for millions of years; humanity is simple, too, having commited pretty much the same mistakes for thousands of years. But when the later tries to intervene with the former with their limited wisdom and means, complicated and unforeseeable results will come about. Think recycling bins in some cities where the gabbage ended up in exactly the same piles as the rest; think solar panels and wind technologies that inspired forward thinking capitalists to invest heavily on, only to coincide with this God forsaken depression, with oil price a third of what it was last year; think the healthy way of diets, inspired restaurants like Wagamama, with its tasteless low fat and high fibre menu, closing down like mad when people, after another day of gloomy market results, attracted by the heavenly smells of pure fat from China Town.
Think George Bush, wanting to grab control of some oil, ended up burning dollars in trunks of trillions.
Refer to the Economist's special report on a German town called Sieben linden, where people put consumption and waste a top issue on their collective conscience.
Economist Article
It's all very good. I always fail to explain myself clearly enough on issues of philanthropy and environmental issues, probably because I'm not entirely sure of it myself. Or worst still, the people who are actively involved, failed to convince me as I'm not quite sure if they know what they are doing.
On the Sieben Linden eco-town issue. For the people who live in the town, it's nice and comfortable, and doing something like this feeds their conscience well. But for the rest of humanity, it's almost pointless. Repeat, other than an interesting intellectual exercise, it's almost pointless.
Germany is one of the most developed industrial countries in the world, and they get here by creating and exporting wonderful machines, those powerful engines who create the main pollutants of the world. I'm not using the same sentimental judgement on the environmentalists, but the fact is, without the abundance of wealth and technology accumulated over the decades, this place called Sieben Linden would never have come into existence.
It doesn't matter how Utopian a life the eco villagers live, they are living under the social wellfare system of Germany, and they are educated by the wonderful German education system. Hence they created this town by choice, not by necessity; which is another way of saying they get what they want and not what they need. African villages do the same kind of things, but out of necessity, they are too poor to do otherwise; they are not as inspiring as an eco message because, well, they are not Germans who choose to abandon their BMWs, but in terms of sustainability and innovation it's much much more respectable.
One may think that it's ok to pursue what they want if the subject is something good for the planet; tell that to the banks and investment funds and insurance companies who invented the great mathematical tool to combine toxic assets and create AAA bundles, just a couple years ago they must have been thinking they are doing the humanity a favour by utilizing economic resources that would otherwise have been lying around doing nothing.
The truth is, reality is simple, having been pretty much the same for millions of years; humanity is simple, too, having commited pretty much the same mistakes for thousands of years. But when the later tries to intervene with the former with their limited wisdom and means, complicated and unforeseeable results will come about. Think recycling bins in some cities where the gabbage ended up in exactly the same piles as the rest; think solar panels and wind technologies that inspired forward thinking capitalists to invest heavily on, only to coincide with this God forsaken depression, with oil price a third of what it was last year; think the healthy way of diets, inspired restaurants like Wagamama, with its tasteless low fat and high fibre menu, closing down like mad when people, after another day of gloomy market results, attracted by the heavenly smells of pure fat from China Town.
Think George Bush, wanting to grab control of some oil, ended up burning dollars in trunks of trillions.
Friday, February 27, 2009
the difference between being in a plague and just being human
An incident happened in C's mini today. S started to scratch her arms, suspicious of bug or mosquito invasion. One of a few things could be true. S could have gotten the bites before she went into the car, she could have gotten it in the car, or she could have gotten it ages ago but did not notice until she was in the car. But in any case, sitting next to her I saw the reaction of S, and I, having experienced itchiness before, started to feel, or maybe not, something. When C asked if anyone felt their eyes itchy, I immediately responded. Subconsciously I was already suspecting being the victim of a certain infection that was originated in the mini.
These may well all be true, but on the other hand, it may well all be psychological. People do throw up when they see other people throw up, people do get turn on when they watch porn (watch the action, feel the itch), similarly, other things like advertising, or market reactions, all work on similar patterns.
This is called being human.
Think about the alternative, what if there is indeed some sort of infection in C's mini and we are all, with different symptoms, infected. S's reaction is a healthy alarm that warns all three of us the danger, encouraging us to seek for solution, e.g. in the form of medical assistance. But having lived 20 odd years we all tend to not make a fuss about small things like these, so we bear with it, we tell our minds that it's just psychological and chemicals are generated to block our bodies' reception to the itchy signals. But the fact is that we are all infected, possibly with something serious.
The next day, when I and C feel the itch on our arms when we wake up and start scratching, we both tell ourselves that it was probably the pancakes that we ate the night before, or still, lingering psychological effects from yesterday's experience.
And then the itchiness disappeared. And without thinking about it, we all travel in the same mini again. and again. and again.
Until one day I died. Suddenly. Allegedly without warning.
The doctors were confused. There was no diagnosis, not yet. But in the mind of C and S they both well know what the hell is going on and they panicked, really really, panicked.
Some people say we have already seen the worst of the financial crisis. That is like saying that, in this little shitty story of mine, we've seen the worst after I died.
And of course, there is also the possibility that C's itchy eyes, S's itchy arms, and my death, are mutually unrelated events. What the doctors can do, as a result, are, at the best, guess work.
Good luck with our banks.
These may well all be true, but on the other hand, it may well all be psychological. People do throw up when they see other people throw up, people do get turn on when they watch porn (watch the action, feel the itch), similarly, other things like advertising, or market reactions, all work on similar patterns.
This is called being human.
Think about the alternative, what if there is indeed some sort of infection in C's mini and we are all, with different symptoms, infected. S's reaction is a healthy alarm that warns all three of us the danger, encouraging us to seek for solution, e.g. in the form of medical assistance. But having lived 20 odd years we all tend to not make a fuss about small things like these, so we bear with it, we tell our minds that it's just psychological and chemicals are generated to block our bodies' reception to the itchy signals. But the fact is that we are all infected, possibly with something serious.
The next day, when I and C feel the itch on our arms when we wake up and start scratching, we both tell ourselves that it was probably the pancakes that we ate the night before, or still, lingering psychological effects from yesterday's experience.
And then the itchiness disappeared. And without thinking about it, we all travel in the same mini again. and again. and again.
Until one day I died. Suddenly. Allegedly without warning.
The doctors were confused. There was no diagnosis, not yet. But in the mind of C and S they both well know what the hell is going on and they panicked, really really, panicked.
Some people say we have already seen the worst of the financial crisis. That is like saying that, in this little shitty story of mine, we've seen the worst after I died.
And of course, there is also the possibility that C's itchy eyes, S's itchy arms, and my death, are mutually unrelated events. What the doctors can do, as a result, are, at the best, guess work.
Good luck with our banks.
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