Currently in amidst this...the 23rd of the year and the 24th on its way.

Yes, yes- raining and windy and work is cancelled...television is in its element giving us fresh updates on the exact location of the storm zone every five minutes. We get live footage of rain falling on the sea, rain falling on the streets in Osaka, rain falling on the streets in Kyoto, water rushing under bridges, people scrurrying about in umbrellas...

Current atmospheric pressure is 954 hPa.

So we watch the typhoon on TV. I should be playing in the rain, relishing the wind.

The other day I went to see the sea...but all I found was this-

I think you may struggle to even make out a slither of the grey, glassy and somehow dead mass of water that is Osaka Bay. As a general rule I would suggest that there are too many fences. Pointless fences, protecting us from nothing in a desperate type of paranoia... directing us past, onward--don't go here.

The sea was surrounded by a wall over which I couldn't see. So I climbed the freeway bridge to get a peak. I did find a ferry terminal, but you had to buy a ticket to see the sea. Atleast it was a sign that salt water was somewhere nearby.

I did find a glorious map and accompanying plaque extoling the wonders of Osaka and it's rosy future (guaranteeded by "mushrooming highrise buildings"). I would show you the words that accompany the map but they were so sufficiently faded that they would be invisible after the series of digital manipulations between reality and the screen from which you are reading.

The rusty map shows railway lines and subway routes. This year is the centenary of the New York Subway- a story worth reading; explosive growth, 80s decay and subseqent restoration... http://www.mta.nyc.ny.us/mta/centennial.htm I want a go on those graffitied trains with police dogs patrolling in 1982-

Ok- you do get the plaque- it's a nice colour...

New York's subway opened in 1904 and Osaka's first line ran for the first time in 1933 and continues to extend tentacles beneath the city... see http://www.urbanrail.net/as/osak/osaka.htm

Above ground is an equally confused array of lines and cables, fibre optic communication, electricity, connections, wires to the rest of us...arranged in a frenzy of military-style construction. Like the purely functional railway stations, like the army rebuilding bombed bridges- what is most important is to have everything OPERATIONAL- and leave aesthetics to the dogs (or camera-carrying wanderers peering up into that clear autumn sky).

Osaka powerlines

Petrol Station: Bentencho, Osaka, Japan.

The "Future with Dream" struck a chord in these times of inflating oil prices. A remarkably candid advertisement for gas---referring here to the unfulfilable dreams of an endless oil driven future??

Japanese English usually contains some profound truth. Someone suggested using tee-shirt English as an oracle, or advice for daily life as you walk down the street; "Enjoy this precious moment" advises one shirt while another informs (on a four year old boy); "I have fond memories of a childhood abroad". Whatever next?

Typhoons, earthquakes...but sometimes it's dead calm; like this vista over Lake Biwa. The wonderful pinky, golden haze of the evening.

The race is never ending.

The race will be conducted in English
The race is on now…

You are expected to join the race immediately.
We warn you that the race track is currently passing over the
Fire and brimstone
Of Hell.

So keep running and don't stop.
Stick to the marked track please.

Parents: please ensure your children are adequately prepared.
Results driven English speakers are preferred.
Winning is important.

Coca cola is available free of charge at designated rest areas.
Please help yourself.

The location of the finish line is unclear at present.

Thankyou for your cooperation.

The subway as event：making places out of non-places.

Why is travelling on the subway not an ecstatic experience?

An experience that we would not confine to the regularities of workaday, functional, enslaved life, but a n event that we would embrace for the sheer pleasure- the sheer pleasure of being below ground, experiencing this hurtling through a tunnel, marvelling at the technological wonder that has made it possible for us to be here- so deep, so fast with these unconnected people?

The subway could become a beautiful event, an event of excitement with glass tubes as trains. Glass not only on the sides but also above and below-making a cylindrical canvas (the internal wall of a cylinder) the canvas for brilliant shows of light. Objects of marvel whilst changing places- the act of transit ceases to be a nothing time but becomes an event; an experience to be cherished in itself. The journey becomes more attractive, or equally so- to that of the destination.

A multitude of co loured lights could be adjusted to invoke various states of being. At times the subway would be tranquil- whites and blues – not dissimilar to swimming through a vast ocean. Or there would be a psychedelic mode with a fluorescent menagerie of pumping, throbbing colour.

The reflective glass makes for interesting effects as the internal space of the subway is eternally reflected, repeating into the distance. The viewers then projected onto the light beyond- a curious blend of spectator and visual spectacle.

The writer, Chalk, being very serious in the subway.

Dusted trails, too temporal in this holy city blew up and down. Coating the frozen cranes; statues to the art of survival. Reflecting the artificial brightness of beauracratic order, the flowing water offered a tranquil constancy to subsume too mighty shifts of human action. A ridiculous expansiveness of influence of which a proliferation of the glowing green and blue “Family Mart” was but one tell-tale sign. A twenty four hour temple to the instant, to whim and unfounded desire.

Side by side the vending machine and fox, key in hand- to the rice store, hoping for a good harvest, this other glowing symbol of over- abundance. Hard work or lack of it, how could these bodies, muscles, strength all be gainfully worked? Tightened hamstrings, sitting in trains waiting for the kaetai.

A glowing that distracts the mind yet tempts the eye. A Density necessary with such mountains

All these people doing stuff. Its horrifying and wonderfully astonishing-the collective time in the world.