4 March 2005 (23 Adar I 5765)
When I left Japan for Israel last August, I expected that I would suffer less from noise. I seem to have been too optimistic. Japan must be among the noisiest among developed countries, but I did not remember Israel as a strong contender to this title when I lived here from 1988 to 1993. Unfortunately, however, things seem to have changed drastically since then.
The two main sources of noise for me now in Israel are cell phones and barking dogs vis-à-vis mechanic noise from loudspeakers in Japan. Cell phones are everywhere, and many users do not have the least manner of using them in public. I am also surprised to find that almost no one complains to people who abuse cell phones. I am not sure whether more people keep dogs, but I would not be surprised if this should be the case, as even in Israel the interpersonal relationship is becoming shallower, and probably an increasing number of people are trying to find consolation in dogs and other pets, which in my opinion are nothing but surrogates that cannot substitute real human beings. It is true that the noise of barking dogs is bothering, but what really irritates me is the fact that their owners fail to educate them or stop their barking.
To use computer terms, there are two types of solutions to noise: client (disturbed) side vs. server (disturbing) side solutions. Until now I have taken the easiest and cheapest measures on the client side, i.e., on my side: use of earplugs. Unfortunately, those that are readily available in drugstores are not efficient enough against the noise of cell phones in buses and the barking dog right behind my apartment. I started to look not only for more efficient measures on the client side but also for those on the server side in order to protect my mental sanity.
I always knew the existence of the so-called noise canceling headphones for professional use (e.g., for pilots), but I thought they would be beyond my reach, i.e., too expensive. This week I found that Sony, for example, manufactures such headphones for personal use at an affordable price. I will probably purchase one in my next visit to Japan in the summer.
I have found devises that emit discomforting but not harmful sound that is audible to our "friends" on the four but not to humans, and have ordered one. I am looking forward to receiving it and testing it to that barking dog that has been successful so far in making me crazy. I wish there were similar devises that would emit such sound audible only to irresponsible owners of dogs.
I also found devises called cell phone jammers, but I have not ordered one yet because I have to check whether the personal use of such a devise is legal in Israel. It is legal, e.g., in Japan and France, but illegal, e.g., in the US and the UK. These devises are not so cheap, but I am ready to pay the price to get rid of the noise of barking humans with electronic pacifiers.
11 March 2005 (30 Adar I 5765)
Although I have never studied computing officially and systematically, I as a logically oriented person was and still am enormously intrigued with it intellectually. I am realizing, however, that it can also be a source of intellectual (and often emotional) frustration for me as I am more and more convinced that not only average home computer users but also the majority of academics, whether researchers or students, in the humanities, including linguistics, will never attain sophisticated computer literacy, that is, I will never have many fellow linguists with whom I can exchange ideas about the application of computing to linguistics.
As things change so rapidly in computing, advanced computer users keep updating themselves. The majority of average users, on the other hand, remain ignorant of these changes and even of basic facts. It is therefore rather futile to give lessons or talks on computing among researchers and students in the humanities in general and of linguistics in particular. My potential audience either already know everything I am supposed to talk about or do not have enough background knowledge to understand it. Unlike disciplines like sociology and psychology, the knowledge of computer science, like other disciplines in natural sciences, is cumulative, that is, those who do not have enough prior knowledge can never appreciate even the most amazing findings.
Although this may sound rather pretentious, I have been trying to share what little knowledge I have about computing and computational linguistics with my fellow researchers and students of linguistics. Perhaps I might as well stop this futile attempt since not only does it mostly fall on deaf ears but also is it often liable to make them keep away from computing, which is the last thing I want.
18 March 2005 (7 Adar II 5765)
Although this is not the first time to experience it in my life, it is such an amazing feeling to be able again to love someone and to be loved by her. I also feel more strongly than ever before that man is not destined to live alone and have started pondering upon the significance and implications, whether physical, intellectual or spiritual, of sharing one's life with someone else in a legally and socially accepted manner, which is one of the rites of passage I have not experienced yet unlike many of the people of my age, not only as a theoretical issue but as a practical matter that can also concern me.
I can imagine that sharing one's life with someone else under one roof will definitely involve various sorts of limitations upon the physical and even intellectual freedom one enjoys in one's celibacy. Although some of the greatest souls of the humankind opted for lifelong celibacy for this reason, many people decide to voluntarily limit their freedom. This seemingly paradoxical decision must be partly programmed biologically into ourselves to preserve our own species, and in this respect we are not different from animals. But what seems to distinguish us from them is that as far as I can imagine, such a decision can also endow the two people who make it together enormous spiritual pleasure and fulfillment that are well worth the price of limiting their physical and intellectual freedom, at least if their shared life is a successful one with mutual love and care.
25 March 2005 (14 Adar II 5765)
Toponyms are probably the most stable part in a language. Not only do they often reflect older layers of a language still used there but also can they be the only remnants of its substratum not used any more. And even if they change, it is not generally what happens more than once in our life time, except in extreme cases such as St. Petersburg, which has changed its name three times in the 20th century. They often resist even military conquests; after the conquered assimilate to the language of the conquerors, the original toponyms often continue to be used not only by the former but also by the latter. At least in modern times the only reason of their change seems to be political.
Such a political change is happening in various prefectures in Japan at the municipal level. As a solution to reduce the administrative expenditures of cities and towns with an aging and often dwindling population the government has been offering financial incentives for these municipalities to merge. The city where I was born and brought up, Honjo, is one example of tens of these mergers that are changing the administrative map of Japan now. On Tuesday, 22 March 2005 it ceased to exist as it merged with seven of the ten towns of the neibhoring county, Yuri, with which it has had a close historical and sociocultural tie, and a new city called Yurihonjo was born.
Although the name Honjo is retained as part of the composite name of the new city, I have a strange feeling as I am witnessing a change of something that I never doubted would remain unchanged, at least in my life time. Finding a name for a new city that is acceptable to the majority of its inhabitants must be the most difficult thing as they are emotionally attached to the name of their respective original city or town. If one of the cities and towns to be merged is far more prestigious than the others historically, culturally, etc., the solution is simple and painless; its name will be adopted as the name for the new city. But when there is equilibrium in historical and cultural prestige between the cities and towns, finding a compromise that can satisfy the majority of people can be problematic, and actually, a number of mergers ended in a fiasco for having been unable to find appropriate names for themselves.
Before the name of the new city was finally decided, its inhabitants could suggest new names. I suggested something other than Yurihonjo, so I was rather disappointed when I first heard the final decision. But now I think it is a nice compromise though it may take some time for me to get used to it, especially because I do not live there. I am only sorry that the three other towns of Yuri did not join this merger and decided to make a new city by themselves.