In REMORANDOM 2 (the orange one) we explored the Anatomy of Cool [RR2:03] by opening with this question: “What’s cool? What’s daggy? Who decides?”

Dag (a person) and daggy (an adjective) are hard-to-define examples of Australian slang, and they can mean slightly different things to different people.

Originally described in a 1731 source as a “clot of dirty wool about the rear end of a sheep”, the word “dag” is now more commonly used in colloquial Australian English to refer to someone unfashionable, often eccentric, with an idiosyncratic style or demeanour – together with a lack of self-consciousness.

This use of the term “dag”, back then meaning a “tough but amusing person”, was first recorded in the Anzac Songbook in 1916, but has only been popular, with quite a different colloquial meaning, since the 1970s.

In Australia, “dag” is often used as an insult … sometimes derogatory, sometimes affectionate. That’s where it gets a bit tricky, and it’s often the context or tone that’s revealing. A quirky and yet likeable person who doesn’t take themselves too seriously might be called “a bit of a dag”, and that would be non-pejorative. On the flipside, calling someone “daggy” behind their back would more often than not be interpreted negatively.

Unlike the term “bogan”, the word dag has no ties with social class or educational background. And dag is also differentiated from terms like “dork”, “nerd” or “geek” – labels more associated with an elevated interest in specific pursuits and/or a fascination with technology.

Dags are considered amusing just by being themselves, and attract feelings of either embarrassment or endearment from others.

In our opinion a very good example of a dag is The Simpsons character Ned Flanders. Flanders, the good-natured, cheery next-door neighbour to the Simpson family is generally loathed by Homer Simpson, although there are numerous instances where the two are portrayed as good friends. Flanders is armed with consistently daggy turns of phrase, e.g “Okiley Dokily”. If you’ve ever watched The Simpsons, you’ll know what we mean. He’s a dag.

Other examples of dagginess:

• Socks and sandals [Ed: classically daggy]

• Leaving a sign on a pot plant that reads: “Please water me. I’m thirsty.”

• The Google Glass headset was never quite able to shake off the dag factor.

• Dad jokes are generally daggy.

• Gas fires pretending to be log fires

• Kath Day and Kel Knight at the mall in matching COOGI jumpers is daggy.

• Old tracksuit pants that are bagging at the knee and the bum (baggy daggies)

Story Idea: Yvonne Frindle

REMORANDOM Chapters

References

• wikipedia.org/wiki/Dag_(slang)

• etymonline.com/word/dag

• merriam-webster.com/wordplay/7-bonzer-australian-words

• slll.cass.anu.edu.au/centres/andc/meanings-origins/d

• quora.com/What-is-the-meaning-of-wog-and-dag-in-Australian-slang

• reddit.com/r/AussieCasual/comments/12jnhug/what_does_a_dag_mean

• wikipedia.org/wiki/Ned_Flanders\

• wired.com/2013/05/inherent-dorkiness-of-google-glass/

Capoeira emerged during the 16th century as enslaved Africans were brought to Brazil, primarily from West and Central Africa, by Portuguese colonisers. Among these diverse African groups, various combat games, dances and rituals were practiced. In the brutal environment of plantations, these cultural forms began to blend, evolve and adapt to the harsh realities of slavery.

To survive and resist oppression, enslaved Africans developed Capoeira as a means of self-defence disguised as dance.

Capoeira emphasises flowing movements rather than fixed stances. The ginga, a rocking step, is usually the focal point of the technique.

Movements were often circular and fluid, with rhythmic ginga swaying forming the foundation. The graceful, deceptive flow masked the underlying combat techniques – kicks, sweeps and evasive manoeuvres. This allowed practitioners to hone fighting skills under the watchful eyes of colonial overseers without raising suspicion.

Capoeira was traditionally accompanied by music, led by the berimbau (a single-string percussion instrument), along with atabaque drums and singing. The musical aspect reinforced its identity as a cultural rather than purely combative activity, providing a rhythmic structure and setting the mood for the roda – the circle in which Capoeira is played.

As Brazil abolished slavery in 1888, newly freed Afro-Brazilians faced poverty, discrimination and social exclusion. Capoeira became associated with marginalised groups and often linked to gangs and criminal activity in urban centres like Rio de Janeiro and Salvador. In 1890, the Brazilian government banned Capoeira, and practitioners faced imprisonment if caught.

Despite repression, Capoeira survived underground, kept alive by mestres (masters) who preserved and taught the art in secret. Over time, perception began to shift. In the early 20th century, influential figures like Mestre Bimba and Mestre Pastinha played pivotal roles in Capoeira’s renaissance. Mestre Bimba developed a more structured style, “Capoeira Regional”, integrating elements of martial arts to gain broader social acceptance. Mestre Pastinha focused on preserving the traditional style, “Capoeira Angola”, emphasising ritual, music and historical roots.

In 1937, Mestre Bimba opened Brazil’s first legal Capoeira school, helping lift the stigma and legal restrictions surrounding the practice. Over subsequent decades, Capoeira gained cultural legitimacy and recognition as a symbol of Brazilian national identity.

Capoeira’s cultural significance extends beyond Brazil. During the global rise of interest in world music, martial arts and dance in the late 20th century, Capoeira spread internationally. Today, Capoeira groups can be found in cities across Europe, North America, Australia and beyond.

In 2014, UNESCO inscribed Capoeira on its list of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, affirming its global cultural value.

Video

Jesus came to Australia from Brazil in 1994 to participate in the local South American festival. He is a keen advocate of capoeira, which he has practised since early childhood and that he thinks of more as an art form than a sport. Mestre Jesus twice won the Brazilian National Capoeira Championship.[Ed: We love Jesus. He is also featured in Melanie’s upcoming Love, Bondi book.]

REMORANDOM Chapter

Reference

wikipedia.org/wiki/Capoeira

The trolley problem was first introduced in 1967 by the British philosopher Philippa Foot as part of an analysis of debates on abortion and the doctrine of double effect. Her original version asks you to imagine a runaway trolley hurtling down a track towards five workers who will be killed if nothing is done. You are standing by a lever that can divert the trolley onto a side track, where one worker stands. Do you pull the lever, sacrificing one life to save five?

Later, the philosopher Judith Jarvis Thomson, a professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, expanded what she called the “trolley problem” with variations, the most famous being the “fat man” version. Instead of pulling a lever, you must push a large man off a bridge to stop the trolley [Ed: fat requirement explained] and save the five. Many people who would pull the lever hesitate – or refuse – to push the man, even though the numbers are the same. This inconsistency is the whole point of the exercise.

At its core, the trolley problem explores a clash between two major ethical frameworks. Utilitarianism holds that the morally correct action is the one that maximises overall happiness or minimises suffering. From this perspective, pulling the lever – and even pushing the man – is justified, because five lives outweigh one.

On the other hand, deontologists argue that certain actions are inherently wrong, regardless of their consequences. Actively causing harm – like pushing someone to their death – violates a moral duty, even if it leads to a better overall outcome. This helps explain why many people distinguish between redirecting harm and directly causing it.

Philosophers have also explored subtler distinctions: the difference between doing and allowing harm, intention versus foresight, and whether moral responsibility changes when harm is a side effect rather than a means.

Although it began as an abstract puzzle, the trolley problem has found unsettling real-world echoes. In wartime decision-making, leaders sometimes face choices that resemble sacrificing a few to save many – such as strategic bombings. In medicine, doctors may have to allocate scarce resources like organs or ICU beds, effectively deciding who lives and who dies. Aborting the baby to save the mother is another example.

More recently, the problem has resurfaced in debates about AI and self-driving cars: how should an autonomous vehicle be programmed if a crash is unavoidable? How should we teach robots to behave in scenarios that are perceived as inescapable realities?

Psychologists and neuroscientists have even used trolley-style dilemmas in experiments, finding that more “personal” actions (like pushing someone) tend to trigger stronger emotional responses than impersonal ones (like pulling a lever), suggesting that our moral judgments are shaped as much by instinct as by reason.

The trolley problem persists not because it has a clear answer, but because it doesn’t.

Videos

REMORANDOM Chapters

References

• wikipedia.org/wiki/Trolley_problem

• britannica.com/topic/trolley-problem

• technologistsinsync.com/2022/06/artificial-intelligence-what-is-trolley

• medicalfuturist.com/choosing-between-life-and-death-during-covid-19-the-a-i-trolley-problem

• neal.fun/absurd-trolley-problems

• moralmachine.mit.edu

In 2024, Australian academic Rachael Gunn – better known by her breakdancing name Raygun – became one of the most unlikely viral figures in Olympic history.

Breaking made its Olympic debut at the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris, and Gunn, a 36-year-old university lecturer who had studied hip-hop culture, arrived as Australia’s representative in the B-girls competition. She had earned her place through the Oceania qualifying pathway, where the depth of competition was far thinner than in breaking powerhouses such as Japan, France or the United States.

During her Olympic battles, Raygun delivered routines that were unconventional even by breaking standards. Rather than focusing on power moves and acrobatics, she leaned heavily into theatrical gestures and “creativity”. At one point she bounced in what viewers quickly dubbed the “kangaroo hop”. Another move resembled a backyard sprinkler. The judges were unimpressed. She lost all three battles and exited the competition without scoring a single point.

Within hours the clips had exploded across the internet. The performance became a meme almost instantly. Social media users recreated the kangaroo hops, comedians copied the routine, and endless edits circulated online. Her green Australian tracksuit became part of the joke. What might once have been a quirky Olympic footnote instead turned into a global viral moment, introducing millions of people to Olympic breaking for the first time.

The attention soon turned darker. Critics argued that the routine made a mockery of breaking just as the dance style was trying to prove itself as a legitimate Olympic sport. For Gunn, the backlash was intense. She had trained seriously and said she simply wanted to bring creativity and individuality to the floor. Instead she found herself at the centre of a worldwide pile-on. Ouch!

But then the story took an unexpected turn. A Sydney-based comedian Steph Broadbridge created Raygun: The Musical, a parody stage show inspired by the episode. But just before opening night, lawyers representing Gunn contacted the venue and producers arguing that the use of the name “Raygun”, her likeness and signature moves could infringe on her intellectual property and falsely imply involvement. The show was cancelled at the last minute. The move generated fresh criticism online. Many observers felt it was an overreaction and that embracing the joke might have worked better. For some who had previously defended her, this was the moment public sympathy began to cool.

Despite everything, there were supporters. Athletes, commentators and fans pointed out that the internet’s response had become disproportionate, and that the Olympics should still leave room for personality and experimentation.

Postscript
After the shutdown of Raygun: The Musical, the situation cooled. The production was reworked and rebadged as Breaking: The Musical, incorporating the legal drama itself into the comedy. Ironically, the controversy actually boosted interest in the show – a classic example of the Streisand effect [RR7:82].

Videos

Trailer below. Launching TODAY (1 September 2026) on Netflix HERE.

REMORANDOM Chapter

Between August and November 1888, the Whitechapel area of London was the scene of five horrifically brutal murders. The serial killer was dubbed “Jack the Ripper”.

We’ve all heard that moniker before, right?

All the victims were prostitutes, and the series of brutal attacks involved mutilation of the bodies. The exact number of victims is still debated among historians and criminologists. The verified five “canonical” (accepted as genuine) victims were Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly. There were other suspected victims, but these five are generally accepted by most experts.

The killings were characterised by deep throat slashes, abdominal and genital-area mutilation [Ed: Eek!], removal/relocation of internal organs and facial mutilations. The precision of the mutilations led some to speculate that the killer had anatomical or surgical knowledge

Several letters, supposedly from the killer, were sent to the police and media. The most famous of these is the “Dear Boss” letter, which is where the name “Jack the Ripper” originates. The authenticity of these letters remains a subject of debate.

The police investigation was extensive, involving many officers, thousands of interviews and even offering a reward for information leading to the capture of the murderer. Despite this, no one was ever caught or convicted for the murders.

Over the years, many suspects have been proposed, ranging from local butchers and doctors to a Russian con artist, a Polish barber, an Irish-American quack and even the eldest son of Edward VII. But none have been definitively proven to be Jack the Ripper.

In the immediate aftermath of the murders, depictions of the Ripper in the media were often phantasmic or monstrous. In the 1920s and 1930s, he was depicted in film dressed in everyday clothes as a man with a hidden secret, preying on his unsuspecting victims, but by the 1960s, the Ripper had become, according Professor of English and American Studies at Middlesex University, Clive Bloom, “the symbol of a predatory aristocracy”, and was more often portrayed in a top hat dressed as a gentleman. The Establishment as a whole had become the villain, with the Ripper acting as a manifestation of upper-class exploitation.

The case has had a lasting impact on popular culture and has been the subject of countless books, films and theories. It remains one of the most famous and unsolved criminal cases in history. Jack the Ripper was not, by any stretch of the imagination, our first-ever serial killer, but his case was the first to create a worldwide media frenzy.

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

• wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_the_Ripper

• britannica.com/biography/Jack-the-Ripper

• telegraph.co.uk/women/womens-life/11773060/Jack-the-Ripper-Why-does-a-serial-killer-who-disembowelled-women-deserve-a-museum

Since soon after European settlement, mouse plagues have been a major problem for rural Australia, and in this instance a “better mousetrap” was going to have to be just that. No metaphor necessary.

The history of Supreme Rat & Mouse Traps began with the vision of one man, Arnold Wesley Standfield (1901–1990). A.W. Standfield (as he was known) was the founder of the company that manufactured and sold the “Supreme” mouse and rat traps that dominated the Australian market for almost the entirety of his adult life.

Although Standfield had no formal training in engineering or construction, he did have a great imagination and, as it happens, a somewhat steampunk sensibility.

Over the course of two years from 1942 to 1943, he designed and built an amazing machine to assemble his traps, having spent years collecting scraps of second-hand materials and machine parts left over from World War II. Built almost entirely from scrap metal, the machine is a wonderful piece of Australian ingenuity and improvisation, and a great example of making do with what you have.

During the production process, long pieces of wire were fixed to a wooden base plate to hold the spring, and the wire forming the trap’s trigger was stapled to the plate. Then the metal bait holder was cut, punched and stapled in place. Another wire was turned 23 times to form the spring and attached in the correct position. The base plate was then branded with the company name: Supreme.

The machine was able to put together each mouse trap in just 1.5 seconds.

The nature of production at Standfields was based on a belief that a unique machine would provide a quality product whose market was based upon the natural cycle of rodent population size. Productivity was rarely increased or decreased from the machine’s range, i.e. 1,000 traps per hour. Product stockpiling was par for the course, and inevitably, from time to time, a plague would come along to exhaust the stockpile.

Production began in 1944, and the company produced about 96 million mousetraps at the Mascot factory throughout the 56 years that the machine was in use, continuing until 2000, when Standfield’s children Dave and Ron decided to retire and cease trading.

On the day they took over in 1990, Dave and Ron took a photograph of their father operating the machine, framed it, and attached it to the machine. Nice.

In 2000 the machine was donated to Sydney’s Powerhouse Museum for all to see with Standfield’s picture still attached to the machine along with the last trap ever made, in honour of a man with vision, determination and the drive to create an iconic Australian product that did one somewhat macabre thing extremely well. And the longevity of the manufacturing solution was a great example of an Australian approach to the making of things that rewarded a well-made and simple product.

Story Idea: Stephen Todd, who featured the rat trap in an AFR Magazine story about REMO in December 2023. See below or HERE.

_____________________________

Postscript
REMO has long been drawn to the iconic form and graphic beauty of these particular traps. In the early days of REMO they were presented and sold alongside the T-shirts and apothecary items in the General Store. In 1989 one was even featured in a photo series that included other cartoonish objects: axe, magnet, crow bar, fez, etc. Then, in 2005 the designer Tucker Viemeister quotes Remo (the person) in an article for PAPER magazine: “It’s a rat trap. It kills rats. Period. But take it and put some white space around it (both physically and metaphorically) and all of a sudden people notice it – maybe for the first time.”

REMORANDOM Chapter

AFR Magazine | 8 December 2023

The Supreme Rat Trap was the hero in a review of REMORANDOM 1 that appeared in the 8 December (summer) issue of the AFR Magazine. The headline: “What this $5 mouse trap can teach you about great design.” Read the full article HERE.

“Former retailer and master curator Remo Giuffré finds fascination in the everyday and has found a way to share this “uncommon knowledge”.

~ Stephen Todd, Design Editor, Australian Financial Review

References

1. supremetraps.com.au

2. abc.net.au/local/stories/2012/12/06

3. collection.powerhouse.com.au/object/350480

On 10 November 1951, Sir Hugh Beaver, then the managing director of the Guinness Breweries, went on a shooting party in Ireland. After missing a shot at a golden plover, he became involved in an argument over which was the fastest game bird in Europe, the golden plover or the red grouse (as an aside, the plover is faster, but neither is the fastest game bird in Europe).

That evening he realised that it was impossible to confirm in reference books whether or not the golden plover was Europe’s fastest game bird.

Beaver figured there must have been numerous other questions debated nightly among the punters in pubs, but there was no book in the world with which to settle arguments about records. He realised then that a book supplying the answers to this sort of question might prove successful. [Ed: Bring on the internet!] He also figured that keeping people engaged in pubs would be a good way to sell more Guinness.

Beaver’s idea became reality when Guinness employee Christopher Chataway recommended university friends Norris and Ross McWhirter, who had been running a fact-finding agency in London. The twin brothers were commissioned to compile what became The Guinness Book of (Superlatives and now) Records, in August 1954.

After more than 13 90-hour weeks, the editors finally published the first ever Guinness Book of Records on 27 August 1955. A thousand copies were printed and left on tables in pubs.

The books were very popular. So much so, that they kept getting nicked. So, Beaver knew he was onto something. The first proper edition topped the bestseller list in the United Kingdom by Christmas 1955. The following year the book was launched internationally, and the 2024 edition sold over 100 million copies.

It is now in its 71st year, published in 100 countries and 37 languages, with over 53,000 records in its database.

Today, Guinness World Records is a global brand, with offices in London, New York, Beijing, Tokyo and Dubai. The franchise has extended beyond print to include museums and television series. The popularity of the franchise has resulted in Guinness World Records becoming the primary international source for cataloguing and verification of a huge number of world records, although since 2008, Guinness World Records has been criticised for inventing obscure new world records as publicity stunts for companies and individuals.

The way it works is that would-be record breakers pay fees to Guinness World Records ranging from US$12,000 to US$500,000 to be provided with official advisors, adjudicators, and help in finding good records to break as well as suggestions for how to do it. This is blurring the distinction between content and advertisement, and may not augur well for the franchise in the longer term. But for now, Guinness World Records it is still the go-to brand associated with record-breaking, amazing feats and the incredible.

Story Idea: Eileen Gittins

Video

Guinness World Record attempt: Deb “Spoons” Perry at the Sydney Opera House for TEDxSydney 2016 and the largest number of people playing the spoons.

REMORANDOM Chapter

The Volkswagen Beetle [RR6:88] showed the world what could happen when a car was designed to be simple, affordable and universally loved – a triumph of practicality. But just a decade later, another European manufacturer took a wildly different approach. Instead of refining the familiar, Citroën set out to reinvent the automobile entirely. The result was the Citroën DS: a car so futuristic in both form and function that it seemed less like a product of its time, and more like a glimpse of what might come next.

When it was introduced at the 1955 Paris Motor Show, there were over 12,000 orders on the first day alone – a testament not just to clever marketing but to genuine astonishment.

At a glance, and indeed, the DS looked like it had arrived from the future. Its long, tapering body, covered rear wheels, and aerodynamic profile stood in stark contrast to the boxier cars of the era. Much of this visual magic can be credited to Italian-born sculptor and industrial designer Flaminio Bertoni, working alongside French engineer André Lefèbvre. Lefèbvre’s background in aeronautics helped shape the DS into something closer to a streamlined aircraft than a traditional automobile.

But it wasn’t just how the DS looked – it was how it behaved. The car introduced a then-radical hydropneumatic suspension system [Ed: Look Mum – no springs!], which allowed it to glide over rough roads with an uncanny smoothness.

Drivers could even adjust the ride height, meaning the DS could handle uneven terrain or be raised for tyre changes without the need for a conventional jack. (It’s no surprise then that the DS was used competitively in rally racing during almost its entire 20‑year production run, and achieved multiple major victories, as early as 1959, and as late as 1974.) The sensation of driving one was often described as floating, an experience that seemed almost magical in the mid-20th century.

This suspension system also underpinned other innovations. The DS featured power-assisted steering, braking and gear shifting – all driven by the same hydraulic system.

Then there’s the name. “DS” in French is pronounced déesse meaning “goddess.” Whether intentional or not (Citroën claimed it was simply a model designation), the nickname stuck – and for good reason. The car came to symbolise French ingenuity and elegance, becoming a kind of national icon.

Its backstory also includes a moment of political drama.

In 1962, during an assassination attempt on French President Charles de Gaulle, a DS carrying him managed to escape despite having multiple tires shot out. The car’s stability – thanks again to that remarkable suspension – allowed the driver to maintain control and speed away, cementing the DS’s reputation not just as beautiful, but as extraordinarily capable.

Over its 20-year production run, the DS continued to evolve, introducing features such as directional headlights that turned with the steering – another industry first.

In 2009, a panel of the world’s leading car designers, convened by Classic & Sports Car magazine, named Citroën DS the most beautiful car of all time.

Story Idea: Andrew Westcombe

Video

REMORANDOM Chapter

The Rashomon effect refers to the phenomenon where different people provide contradictory interpretations or recollections of the same event. It’s named after Akira Kurosawa’s 1950 film Rashomon in which four characters – a bandit, a samurai’s wife, the samurai (via a medium) and a woodcutter – each offer their version of a crime.

None of their stories match, and the audience is left to question the nature of truth itself. Just like in the parable of the blind men and an elephant, where each blind man feels a different part of the animal’s body, going on to describe very different animals based on their blinkered experience. Humans have a tendency to claim absolute truth based on their limited, subjective experience as they ignore other people’s limited, subjective experiences which may be equally true.

The Rashomon effect has been defined in a modern academic context as “the naming of an epistemological framework – or ways of thinking, knowing and remembering – required for understanding complex and ambiguous situations”. At its core, the effect illustrates the subjectivity of perception and memory. We don’t just see events; we interpret them, filter them through personal experiences, emotions, biases and even our need to protect or project a certain image of ourselves.

In psychology, this overlaps with concepts like confirmation bias, where we favour information that aligns with our existing beliefs – and false memory, where recollections can be distorted over time.

In legal settings, the Rashomon effect is especially significant. Eyewitness testimony, once considered gold-standard evidence, is now treated with more skepticism.

The Rashomon effect isn’t confined to courts or the cinema. It plays out in everyday life: family disputes, workplace misunderstandings, political debates, even social media controversies. Online, where tone and nuance are easily lost, people often form sharply divided interpretations of the same statement, image or video. What one person sees as satire, another reads as an insult. What one calls justice, another sees as injustice. The Rashomon effect reminds us how easily consensus can fracture.

But this doesn’t mean that truth is completely relative or unknowable. What the Rashomon effect really teaches is the idea that we should be aware of our cognitive limitations and remain open to other perspectives. In journalism, history and interpersonal communication, acknowledging multiple viewpoints can bring us closer to a fuller understanding of events, even if perfect objectivity remains elusive.

Video

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon_effect

2. wikipedia.org/wiki/Blind_men_and_an_elephant

You’ve surely seen them, maybe without knowing what they were. Tenji blocks, also known internationally as “tactile paving” or “braille blocks”, are a Japanese innovation that has transformed accessibility for visually impaired individuals worldwide. These distinctive, typically yellow, tiles with raised patterns serve as tactile indicators that help visually-impaired people navigate public spaces safely.

The origins of Tenji blocks date back to 1965 in Okayama, Japan, when inventor Seiichi Miyake sought a way to assist a friend losing his sight. At that time, urban environments posed numerous hazards for blind pedestrians – busy streets, railway platforms and intersections lacked cues for safe mobility.

Miyake’s solution was simple yet ingenious: concrete tiles embedded with raised patterns that could be detected with a white cane or underfoot.

Two primary designs became standard:

1. Dot Pattern: small raised bumps signalling caution or a stopping point, such as at a platform edge or curb.

2. Bar Pattern: long, raised bars indicating a safe direction of travel along a pathway.

The word tenji means “braille” [RR5:08] in Japanese, underscoring the link between tactile information and literacy for the visually impaired. The first installation occurred near a school for the blind in Okayama in 1967, and the benefits were immediately clear. By the mid-1970s, tactile paving was incorporated into Japan’s national transportation standards.

Global adoption followed over the subsequent decades. Today, tactile paving is a common feature in cities around the world – from railway stations in London to footpaths in Sydney. Colours often include bright yellow for high visibility, particularly for those with partial sight, though variations exist for local environments.

Beyond their practical function, Tenji blocks represent a universal design philosophy: solutions that benefit specific users while enhancing safety and awareness for everyone. Over time, materials evolved from concrete to durable polymers, rubber composites, and even stainless steel in high-traffic areas.

Recent years have introduced technologies that build on Tenji’s legacy, integrating digital tools with tactile systems. Among these, NaviLens stands out as a pioneering innovation. Developed in Spain, NaviLens uses high-contrast, camera-readable tags installed on or alongside tactile paving. These tags, incorporating QR codes [RR1:58] and readable from a distance without precise alignment, deliver spoken navigation instructions through a smartphone app, guiding users with details like distance, orientation and real-time transport information.

Postscript
Japan celebrates Tenji Block Day on 18 March each year, honouring Seiichi Miyake’s contribution to accessibility and universal design.

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Tactile_paving

2. wikipedia.org/wiki/Seiichi_Miyake

3. tenjiblocks.com

4. navilens.com

5. doodles.google/doodle/celebrating-seiichi-miyake

The Mona Lisa – also called La Gioconda in Italian and La Joconde in French – is a half-length portrait painted by Leonardo da Vinci during the Italian Renaissance, most likely between 1503 and 1519. Leonardo began work on it in Florence, probably at the behest of Francesco del Giocondo, a wealthy silk merchant, to depict his wife, Lisa (Gherardini) del Giocondo.

Leonardo was famously meticulous, layering delicate glazes to create soft transitions of light and shadow using a technique called sfumato (“smoked off”), which gives the enigmatic sitter her almost living presence. His approach broke from the conventional profile portraits of the day, and the three-quarter pose helped set the standard for future Western portraiture.

After Leonardo’s death in 1519, King Francis I of France acquired the painting, and it entered France’s royal collection. During the French Revolution it became national property and was eventually installed in the Louvre Museum in Paris around the turn of the 19th century. The sitter’s identity – while overwhelmingly believed by scholars to be Lisa del Giocondo – has never been definitively proven, and this uncertainty only deepened public fascination over time.

For much of the 19th century, the Mona Lisa was respected among art connoisseurs, but not yet globally iconic. In the opinion of art historian Alicja Zelazko its transformation into a household name was as much about circumstance and myth as craftsmanship.

The watershed moment came in 1911, when an Italian handyman and Louvre employee, Vincenzo Peruggia, stole the painting and hid it for more than two years before attempting, in an act of misguided patriotism, to return it to Italy. The ensuing worldwide media frenzy propelled the Mona Lisa into global consciousness far beyond art circles.

During World War II, the Mona Lisa was evacuated for fear of bombings and looting. Between 27 September 1938 and 17 June 1945, it was moved ten times, hidden in a crate marked only with the code “MNLP No. 0”, standing for Musée National du Louvre Peintures No. 0. The painting also famously travelled to the United States in 1963, where it drew about 40,000 visitors per day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the National Gallery in Washington, DC.

Reproductions and reinterpretations of the Mona Lisa – from Marcel Duchamp’s playful defaced postcard to Andy Warhol’s pop-art versions – cemented its status as a cultural icon, and not just a masterpiece.

The Mona Lisa now hangs behind bulletproof glass in the Louvre’s Salle des États. The museum welcomed 9 million visitors in 2025, with an estimated 20,000 people a day coming specifically to see this painting. Around 7 million visitors annually see the Mona Lisa, more than any other artwork in the museum. At peak times, visitors may only have around 30 seconds to view the painting amidst the crowds.

Because of overcrowding, the Louvre is currently undergoing major renovation plans – including a dedicated Mona Lisa room with special access. President Emmanuel Macron framed this as the painting deserving “better conditions of display” for future audiences.

As for value, the Mona Lisa holds the Guinness World Record [RR3:35] for the highest known insurance valuation for a painting: US$100 million in 1962, equivalent to around US$1 billion today – although it is effectively priceless.

Video

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Mona_Lisa

2. britannica.com/topic/Mona-Lisa-painting
   presse.louvre.fr/

3. apnews.com/article/paris-louvre-museum-renovation-64c83759247406323def9e54bb4890c9

4. abc.net.au/news/2025-04-14/mona-list-art-heist-by-vincenzo-peruggia/105150860

5. metmuseum.org/perspectives/from-the-vaults-leonardo-da-vinci-mona-lisa
   unjourdeplusaparis.com/en/paris-culture/histoire-de-la-joconde

Psychologists say collecting can provide pleasure, identity, order, nostalgia, social connection and “the thrill of the hunt”. Some collectors are driven by rarity, others by beauty, completeness, memory or simple curiosity. One researcher estimates that roughly a third of people collect something, whether stamps, sneakers or fridge magnets. But beyond conventional hobbies lies a stranger world: people who devote years – sometimes entire lifetimes – to the gathering of objects so oddly specific that the collections become artworks in themselves.

Here’s a random list interspersed with some images:

• Airline safety cards

• Airline sick bags

• Antique mousetraps

• Banana stickers

• Barbie Dolls

• Bricks

• Beer coasters

• Bottle caps

• Bread tags [RR1:09]

• Celebrity hair clippings

• Coat hangers

• Dirt and sand samples

• Elevator buttons

• Erasers shaped like food

• Escalator warning signs

• Exit signs [RR7:30]

• Fast-food promotional cups

• Fortune cookie fortunes [RR3:29]

• Fruit crate labels

• Golf course pencils

• Hotel “Do Not Disturb” signs

• Hot sauces

• Matchbooks

• McDonald’s Happy Meal toys

• Miniature bottles of Tabasco [RR5:78]

• Napkins from restaurants

• Old keys

• Paper clips (found on the ground) [RR3:59, RR7:64]

• Parking meters

• Pencil sharpeners

• Police mugshots

• Police patches

• Rolling pins

• Rubber ducks

• Seashells shaped like letters

• Shopping lists found in supermarket trolleys

• • Snow globes [RR7:80]

• Stones that look like human faces [RR6:58]

• Sugar packets

• Tin robots

• Tiny pigs

• Toothpaste tubes [RR1:84]

• Traffic cones

• Typewriter ribbons

• Vacuum cleaners

• Vintage lunch boxes

• Vintage motel ashtrays

• “Wet Floor” signs

Some of the best collections are visually repetitive — hundreds of nearly identical objects lined up together – because repetition transforms ordinary items into something surreal, funny and strangely beautiful. A wall of airline safety cards or thousands of banana stickers can become more visually arresting than a traditional art collection. The collector turns the mundane into the remarkable.

REMORANDOM Chapter

Located at 254 West 54th Street in Manhattan, the club opened in April 1977, quickly becoming the epicentre of New York’s nightlife.

The building could boast of a rich theatrical past, having previously housed the Gallo Opera House and later CBS Studios. But it was when two Brooklynites Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager transformed it into a nightclub that it gained international notoriety, becoming synonymous with glamour, hedonism and excess.

What set Studio 54 apart was not just who was inside, but how they partied. The club attracted a surreal mix of celebrities, artists, socialites and outsiders. On any given night, you might spot Andy Warhol chatting with Liza Minnelli, Grace Jones performing live, or Mick Jagger dancing alongside a sea of anonymous club kids.

Bianca Jagger famously rode a white horse across the dance floor for her birthday, and there is an infamous photo of Margaret Trudeau, while technically still the First Lady of Canada, caught sitting on the floor wearing no knickers. [Ed: A self-inflicted Sharon Stone moment.]

There were also unconfirmed stories of secret rooms, drug-fueled escapades and champagne-soaked nights that lasted until dawn.

The vibe was electric, rule-breaking and unpredictable – an intentional contrast to the uptight political climate of the 1970s. It was an “anything goes” environment – and, for those seeking to gain entry, the pinnacle of FOMO, both at the time, and maybe ever since.

The club’s visual and theatrical flair contributed to its mystique. It featured elaborate set designs and lighting effects, including a moon with a glowing cocaine spoon dangling from its mouth. The space itself transformed constantly: one night it might be decked out like a Moroccan palace, another like a giant snow globe. Studio 54 was not just about dancing – it was performance art, sexual liberation and social commentary all rolled into one.

Culturally, Studio 54 helped bring underground movements into the mainstream. It was a crucible for disco music, which at the time was deeply connected to black, latino and LGBTQ+ communities. It also blurred the lines between celebrity and civilian; a night at Studio 54 could turn an unknown into an icon.

Studio 54 was an instant hit – both culturally and financially. In November 1977, Dan Dorfman of New York magazine quoted Rubell as saying that “only the Mafia made more money” than Studio 54. In the same article Rubell bragged about the club’s exclusivity, saying: “I turned away 1,400 people last Saturday”.

According to Anthony Haden-Guest, author of the 1997 book Studio 54: The Legend, Rubell once told a “ravishingly beautiful woman” that she could enter for free if she took off all her clothes. The woman was later hospitalised for frostbitten nipples. Another desperate guest got stuck in a ventilation shaft while trying to gain entry and died, an account that Schrager confirmed.

Despite its fame, Studio 54’s reign was short. In 1980, Rubell and Schrager, informed on by an insider, were ultimately convicted of tax evasion and sent to prison.

The club briefly reopened under new ownership, but it never recaptured its original spark. It officially closed in 1986.

Video

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Studio_54

2. theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/mar/13/studio-54-exhibition-brooklyn-museum

3. Book: Studio 54: The Legend, Anthony Hayden-Guest, 1997

The oldest known tattoos appear on Ötzi the Iceman, a mummy from around 3300 BCE discovered in the Alps. His 60-plus carbon ink marks lie along joints and pressure points, perhaps for therapeutic or ritual purposes.

In Ancient Egypt, tattoos dating back to 2000–3000 BCE are found particularly on women – possibly symbols of protection in childbirth or indicators of social or religious status.

Across the Eurasian steppe, the tattooed nobles of the Pazyryk culture (circa 500 BCE) wore richly inked animal motifs reflecting mythology and power.

In Polynesia, tattooing became a highly developed art and a marker of genealogy, rank and belonging. The Polynesian word tatau (meaning to “strike” or “tap”) is the origin of the English word “tattoo”. Among the Māori, moko carries deep ancestral and spiritual meaning. Moko kauae – the traditional chin tattoo of Māori women – signifies lineage, authority (mana) and life milestones. Though violently suppressed during colonisation, moko has powerfully reemerged, with Māori women today wearing moko kauae as a proud act of cultural continuity.

In Japan, irezumi evolved into spectacular full-body forms including dragons, koi and folklore figures. Despite immense artistry, tattooing became entwined with criminality and the Yakuza, leading to social stigma that still persists, e.g. no bath house entry if you are Japanese and sporting a tattoo.

Not all tattooing has been voluntary. In the 18th and 19th centuries, criminals, enslaved people and forced labourers in some societies were branded or tattooed as punishment and classification. The most chilling example came during the Holocaust, when prisoners at Auschwitz and related camps were forcibly tattooed with identification numbers – a profoundly dehumanising system that transformed living people into catalogued objects.

Tattooing has a long association with incarceration in other contexts too. Prison tattoos, whether in Russian gulags, American penitentiaries or Latin American gang hierarchies, encode affiliations, status and personal histories through coded symbolism. While these tattoos can represent survival and solidarity, they also reflect violence and marginalisation.

Europe’s mainstream re-encounter with tattooing came through sailors in the age of exploration, who adopted Polynesian techniques and carried them back to port cities.

By the late 19th century, the electric tattoo machine (patented by Irishman Samuel O’Reilly in 1891) sparked a modern boom. Throughout the 20th century, tattoos shifted from fringe to fashionable – from circus sideshows and biker clubs to red carpets, art galleries and Instagram.

Today, tattooing includes an astonishing range of styles – traditional, blackwork, realism, fine-line, geometric, watercolour – and therapeutic practices such as cosmetic tattooing, scar camouflage and mastectomy areola restoration.

Video Treat

Well worthy of your 3 minutes :)

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Tattoo

2. theconversation.com/tattoos-have-a-long-history-going-back-to-the-ancient-world-and-also-to-colonialism

3. thearchaeologist.org/blog/new-insight-emerges-on-otzi-the-icemans-ancient-tattoos

4. guinnessworldrecords.com/news/2024/8/american-woman-smashes-records-for-most-tattoos-and-body-modifications-ever

Krakatoa is a volcanic island situated in the Sunda Strait between the islands of Java and Sumatra in Indonesia. It is best known for the cataclysmic eruption that occurred on 27 August 1883, one of the most powerful volcanic events in recorded history.

The third and largest Krakatoa explosion occurred at 10:02am and has been reported as the loudest sound in history. It was heard 3,110km (1,930 miles) away in Perth, Western Australia, and the Indian Ocean island of Rodrigues near Mauritius, 4,800km (3,000 miles) away, where the blast was thought to have been cannon fire from a nearby ship. The energy released from the explosion has been estimated to be equal to about 200 megatonnes of TNT (840 petajoules), roughly four times as powerful as the Soviet “Tsar Bomba”, the most powerful thermonuclear weapon ever detonated. Concussive air waves from the eruption circled the globe several times and were still detectable on barographs five days later.

The eruption of Krakatoa resulted in the collapse of much of the island and the formation of a massive caldera. It triggered tsunamis that reached heights of up to 40 metres (130 feet) and caused widespread devastation along the coasts of nearby islands. The official death toll recorded by the Dutch authorities was 36,417.

The eruption also injected large quantities of ash and volcanic gases into the atmosphere, leading to significant climate effects, including vivid sunsets and temperature drops observed worldwide for several years afterward.

British artist William Ascroft made thousands of colour sketches of the red sunsets halfway around the world from Krakatoa in the years after the eruption, and across the Atlantic, according to volcanologist Scott Rowland at the University of Hawaii, the ash caused “such vivid red sunsets that fire engines were called out in New York, Poughkeepsie and New Haven to quench the apparent conflagration”.

In 2004, an astronomer proposed the idea that the red sky in Edvard Munch’s 1893 painting The Scream [RR2:66] is an accurate depiction of the sky over Norway after the eruption.

An excerpt from Munch’s diary gives us some insight. On 22 January 1892, he wrote:

“I was walking along the road with two friends – the sun was setting – I felt a wave of sadness – The sky suddenly turned blood-red – I stopped, leaned against the fence tired to death – gazed out over the flaming clouds like blood and swords – the blue-black fjord and city – My friends walked on – I stood there quaking with angst – and I felt as though a vast, endless scream passed through nature.”

Nature was doing the screaming, and not just the artist.

REMORANDOM Chapters

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Krakatoa

2. wikipedia.org/wiki/1883_eruption_of_Krakatoa

You’ll recognise the sound of the theremin when you hear it. [Ed: Think scary movie.] It was invented in the early 20th century by Russian physicist and musician Léon Theremin, and it quickly gained popularity as a pioneering electronic instrument.

Léon Theremin, born Lev Sergeyevich Termen in 1896, was a Russian inventor with a passion for both physics and music. In 1919, while working on research into proximity sensors for the government at the Physical Technical Institute in Petrograd (now St Petersburg), Theremin developed an electronic instrument that would respond to the movement of the player’s hands. He called it the “etherphone”, but it later became known as the theremin.

The basic principle behind the theremin is the heterodyning of two radio frequency oscillators. The player’s hands control the pitch and volume of the sound by manipulating the electromagnetic fields around the instrument. One hand controls the pitch by moving closer to or further away from an antenna, while the other hand controls the volume by altering the proximity to a separate antenna. This unique method of playing creates an eerie and otherworldly sound that is instantly recognisable.

Theremin’s invention made its debut in 1920, and it quickly caught the attention of both the scientific community and the public. He performed demonstrations and concerts throughout Europe and the US, captivating audiences with the ethereal sounds produced by his invention. After the tour Theremin moved to the US, where he patented his invention in 1928, subsequently granting commercial production rights to the RCA Corporation.

The theremin’s ability to create haunting melodies and unearthly tones attracted the interest of many composers and musicians of the time.

In the 1930s, the theremin gained even more popularity, thanks to its appearances in Hollywood films. It became synonymous with science fiction and horror movies, adding an eerie and futuristic ambiance to the soundtracks. Notable films featuring the theremin include Spellbound (1945) and The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951).

Despite its early success, the theremin’s popularity waned with the advent of more accessible and commercially viable electronic instruments, such as the synthesiser. However, it experienced a resurgence in the late 20th century, thanks to the efforts of musicians and enthusiasts who rediscovered its unique sound.

Artists like Clara Rockmore, a virtuoso theremin player who lived until the end of the 20th century and was involved with theremin from the very early days; and Robert Moog, the creator of the Moog synthesizer, played a significant role in revitalising interest in the instrument.

Postscript
There’s a 1993 documentary called Theremin: An Electronic Odyssey – which is not currently available to view online. If that changes, I will post the news here.

Videos

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theremin

2. wnyc.org/story/inventor-and-virtuoso-leon-theremin-and-clara-rockmore-listening-room

3. insomniac.com/magazine/clara-rockmore-theremin-witch/

Handedness is an individual’s preferential use of one hand, known as the dominant hand, due to it being stronger, faster or more “dextrous”. About 90% of the population is right-handed, while the remaining 10% are left-handed. Handedness is often defined by one’s writing hand. There are people with true ambidexterity (equal preference of either hand), but it is very rare (only around 1% of the population).

Handedness is partly determined by genetics. While scientists have identified some genes that play a role, they believe that handedness results from a complex interaction between multiple genes and environmental factors. It’s also closely linked to brain lateralisation – the tendency for certain cognitive functions, like language and spatial reasoning, to be dominated by one hemisphere of the brain. For most right-handers, the left hemisphere of the brain is dominant, while for many left-handers, brain dominance is less strongly lateralised.

Handedness typically develops in early childhood. Although some infants may show early hand preferences, consistent handedness usually emerges by age two or three.

The 10% that left-handers make up of the global population has remained consistent across cultures and history. In some cases, left-handed individuals have been stigmatised or forced to switch hands, particularly in cultures that historically viewed right-handedness as “normal” and left-handedness as abnormal or unlucky.

[Ed: As a young person I was taught by nuns at the then Brigidine Convent here in Sydney, and I recall one who would wrap left handers across the knuckles with a ruler!]

The language doesn’t help. The words themselves show prejudice. The Latin roots for right and left are dexter and sinister. Dexter gives us dexterous, meaning nimble, skilled, agile; sinister means evil, dark, wrong.

And there are many negative connotations associated with the phrase “left-handed”: clumsy, awkward, unlucky, insincere, malicious, and so on. In French, gauche means both “left” and “awkward” or “clumsy”, while droit(e) (related to the English “adroit”) means both “right” and “straight”, as well as “law” and the legal sense of “right”. Black magic is sometimes referred to as the “left-hand path”, and indeed, left-handedness was cited as proof of being a witch during the Salem Witch Trials in 1692. At least one woman, Mary Barker, was burned at the stake in part because of her preference for her left hand.

But today, despite some aberrant pockets of remaining prejudice, left-handedness is widely accepted, and many societies have become more accommodating.

There are myths about handedness relating to enhanced creativity, longevity or susceptibility to mental illness that have been debunked. But the belief that left-handers have an advantage in sports is partly true. It relates to practice. Lefties get to train against righties nine times out of ten, but righties train against lefties only once out of ten times.

International Left-Handers Day is held annually on 13 August. On this day you are more likely to be reminded about impressive lefties from history like Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Jimmi Hendrix, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, etc., along with the curious fact that five of the last eight US presidents were/are left-handed: Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama. Go figure.

Story Idea: Andrea Jansz

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Handedness

2. lefthandersday.com

3. etymonline.com/word/southpaw

4. newscientist.com/lastword/mg24532761-400-lend-a-hand-is-there-an-advantage-to-being-left-or-right-handed

When people speak of “The Pill”, you know they don’t mean aspirin or Prozac but rather that mother of all blockbuster drugs, the birth control pill.

A synthetic blend of the female hormones progesterone and estrogen, oral contraceptives were approved in the United States by the Food and Drug Administration in 1960, the same year that swept Kennedy’s space-racing Camelot into the White House. The pill, too, seemed mythic and new – the age-old dream of avoiding unwanted pregnancy brought to you by modern science.

The drug’s impact was immediate and immense, generating an enormous social reaction. By 1962, well over one million American women were taking oral contraceptives. By 1964, the pill had become the most popular form of reversible birth control, a position it retains throughout the world.

The development story for the pill involves the serendipitous alignment of four fascinating characters: fiery feminist Margaret Sanger, herself the sixth of 11 children, who coined the term “birth control” and was imprisoned in 1916 for opening the nation’s first family planning clinic; funding source Katharine McCormick, who owed her fortune to her wealthy husband, the son of the founder of International Harvester; visionary scientist Gregory Pincus, who was dismissed by Harvard Medical School in the 1930s as a result of his experimentation with in vitro fertilisation but who, after he was approached by Sanger and McCormick, grew obsessed with the idea of inventing a drug that could stop ovulation; and finally the telegenic John Rock, a Catholic doctor from Boston who battled his own church to become an enormously effective advocate in the effort to win public approval for the drug that would initially be marketed by Searle as “Enovid”.

Enovid was actually approved by the FDA as something to promote menstrual regulation. On the bottle, however, was a warning label stating that this drug had another function: it also prevented pregnancy. At a time when birth control was still illegal in many states, the indirect approach [Ed: wink, wink – nudge, nudge] was considered wise. It had the effect of sending the message to women that if you’re really desperate to avoid pregnancy, this pill can help.

Women began going to their doctors and asking for it, because they knew what it really did. Doctors knew what it really did too, so they began telling women, and that helped get the word out. It helped create this word-of-mouth, grassroots movement through which the pill became popular even before it was unofficially christened “the pill”.

A 2015 book by Jonathan Eig tells the story. Spanning the years from Sanger’s Greenwich Village days in the early 20th century to trial tests in Puerto Rico in the 1950s to the cusp of the sexual revolution in the 1960s, The Birth of the Pill is a grand story of radical feminist politics, scientific ingenuity, establishment opposition and, ultimately, a sea change in social attitudes.

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Combined_oral_contraceptive_pill

2. pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/pill-and-womens-liberation-movement

3. smithsonianmag.com/history/why-the-oral-contraceptive-is-just-known-as-the-pill

4. nationalgeographic.com/adventure/article/141218-birth-control-pill-contraception-science-medicine-ngbooktalk

Gambling for money is, for the most part, banned in Japan. But some sneaky punters found a way around the stringent laws in the form of pachinko: a very noisy, very colourful and very addictive pinball-cross-pokies arcade game that’s wildly popular throughout Japan.

Pachinko is legally classified as “entertainment” and 1 in 11 Japanese try their luck day and night in one of the 9,639 pachinko parlours that exist across the country, spending 30 times more per annum than what is spent in casinos in Las Vegas and Macau combined for the same period.

The prolific money-generating-but-not-gambling game finds its origins in Corinth, a mini children’s version of “bagatelle” (a billiards-derived indoor table game) that was manufactured in Chicago at the turn of the 20th century.

By the 1920s, the game had found its way across the Pacific and into Japanese sweet shops where it was installed as a rather cunning way to convince kids to stick around longer and buy more lollies. It was renamed pachinko, a reference to the “pachink” sound that the small metal balls made as they ricocheted about the machine.

Although the game all but disappeared during the Second World War, in the years that followed, the country found itself with a surplus of metal ball bearings. And so, in 1948, the country’s first official pachinko parlour was opened.

As parlours popped up across the country, owners were faced with a big problem: the Japanese businessmen who frequented the establishments weren’t all that interested in winning lollies. So, to circumvent the law prohibiting gambling for cash, pachinko parlour owners (80% of whom are Korean) developed a complex payout system. Once their luck is exhausted, players exchange their balls within the parlour for an odd assortment of prizes including cosmetics, cigarettes, stuffed toys.

Among the array of prizes available, there will invariably be an item known as the “special prize” (tokushu keihin, 特殊景品) typically a small silver or gold novelty item encased in plastic.

The prizes, including any “special prizes”, can be exchanged for cash [Ed: Aha!] at an outside establishment in the vicinity of the parlour. Because the transaction does not take place in the same venue as the pachinko machines, it cannot be considered gambling. As convoluted as it is, the system works. In 2021, the pachinko market amounted to a whopping 14.6 trillion Japanese Yen (approximately A$157 billion), almost 4% of the country’s GDP.

In the 1980s, pachinko went digital and developers heightened the addictive nature of the game by adding chaotic sound effects and hypnotising light displays to the anime-themed content (Sega is the owner of most pachinko franchises). And it worked! In a 2014, 9.6% of Japanese men and 1.6% of Japanese women were believed to have a pachinko gambling addiction.

Luckily, pachinko is steadily declining in popularity. In 2018, the Japanese government introduced a cap on the number of balls (and therefore money) that can be won. Financial hardships engendered by COVID-19 further rubbed salt into the wound and by the end of the pandemic the number of pachinko parlours nationwide had halved. It seems that younger populations would rather while away their youth glued to video games and phones at home in their bedrooms than playing pachinko in gaudy arcade halls.

Videos

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Pachinko

2. Video: Japan’s Biggest Gaming Obsession Explained | Pachinko
   japanbased.com/pachinko

3. The Secret Life of Pachinko. How Japan’s gaming parlors really work.

4. statista.com/topics/7427/pachinko-in-japan/#dossierKeyfigures

5. Video: Day in the Life of a Japanese Casino Worker Pachinko from Paolo from TOKYO

Early milk crates were made from wood and later metal, providing dairies with a practical way to move heavy glass bottles between factories, delivery trucks and shops. The modern plastic milk crate emerged in Australia during the 1950s and ’60s, when engineer Geoff Milton, working for the Dairy Farmers Co-operative Milk Company in New South Wales, developed a durable injection-moulded plastic version.

The design proved so effective that it became an industry standard and spread around the world. A similar crate was designed by J. Houston Rehrig of Pasadena, California and patented in the United States in 1966.

What makes a milk crate special is its impressive functionality. Its open sides reduce weight while maintaining strength. Its dimensions allow efficient stacking and transport. Its reinforced corners withstand rough handling. Not unlike the jerrycan [RR7:47] it’s a classic example of industrial design in which every feature serves a purpose.

The crate’s greatest compliment may be the number that have been stolen. [Ed: Go on – admit it. We’ve all been there.] For decades, milk crates mysteriously disappeared from behind supermarkets and convenience stores. Dairies have spent millions replacing missing crates, many of which found second lives as storage boxes, bookshelves, bicycle baskets, tool carriers and makeshift furniture. In many countries, milk crates remain the property of the dairy companies, making their unofficial adoption technically a form of theft.

Milton’s initial design – solid on the sides – was even more tempting. “People were using them to store toys and potatoes, fair dinkum,” Milton says. “Our crate losses were not insignificant.” So, the team designed a new mould die for a crate with gaps on the sides – just large enough for potatoes to slip through. [Ed: Sorry potato luggers.]

Few objects have crossed social boundaries so effortlessly. In university dormitories during the 1970s and ’80s, milk crates became the default furniture of young people on tight budgets. A stack of crates could become a bedside table, record shelf or television stand. Vinyl record collectors still prize them because LPs fit almost perfectly inside (a happy accident). Musicians transport cables and equipment in them. Gardeners use them for harvesting produce. Photographers stand on them to gain extra height. Cafes use them as outdoor seating.

Artists have also embraced the crate. Contemporary sculptors and installation artists have used stacks of milk crates (or giant versions) to explore themes of labour, consumption and everyday life. Their familiar grid pattern makes them instantly recognisable.

Today, dedicated consumer versions are sold specifically for storage and home organisation. [Ed: Hello IKEA!] Some feature lids, wheels, dividers or fold-flat designs. Yet despite these innovations, the basic form remains unchanged.

Story Idea: Sheridan Jobbins

REMORANDOM Chapter

References

1. wikipedia.org/wiki/Milk_crate

2. dairycrates.com/milk-crate-history

3. smh.com.au/entertainment/art-and-design/a-tall-order-for-the-humble-milk-crate-amuses-its-inventor

4. smh.com.au/entertainment/art-and-design/crate-moments-in-art-history

5. smh.com.au/national/making-australia-crate-again-in-2019

6. reddit.com/r/AskOldPeople/comments/1frtizb/where_did_all_those_milk_crates_come_from