The observer has the frightening story of Howard Dully , who at age 12 was forcefully lobotomised by Dr Walter Freeman, famous for using the treatment on thousands of patients to cure their mental issues. Most frightening is the recollection of the doctor’s son, who recalls his father doing the treatment with an ice pick taken from their kitchen, which was driven into the skull above the eyes and wiggled around to damage the frontal lobes of the brain.  NPR also has pictures of Howard , including one taken during his lobotomy.

I found this absolute gem:

“During World War II the Army Corps of Engineers needed to hide the Lockheed Burbank Aircraft Plant to protect it from a Japanese air attack. They covered it with camouflage netting and trompe l’oeil to make it look like a rural subdivision from the air.”

Back in the day, of course, there weren’t satellites, so bombers had to visually identify cities to determine where to bomb.

It’s funny to think American military servicemen were given a guide to Aussies. The Instructions for American Servicemen in Australia 1942 is a 64 page booklet with gems such as:

“You’ll find the Australians an outdoors kind of people, breezy and very democratic. They haven’t much respect for stuffed shirts, their own or anyone else’s. They’re a generation closer to their pioneer ancestors than we are to ours, so it’s natural that they should have a lively sense of independance and “rugged individualism”. But they have too, a sense of cooperation. The worst thing an Australian can say about anyone is: “He let his mates down”. A man can be a “dag” (a cutup) or “rough as bags” (a tough guy), but if he sticks with the mob, he’s all right.”

Of course, the best thing any Australian can say about you is that you’re a “bloody fine barstud”.

You’ll find that the Digger is a rapid, sharp and unsparing kidder, able to hold his own with Americans or anyone else. He doesn’t miss a chance to spar back and forth and he enjoys it all the more if the competition is tough.

Another thing, the Digger is instantaneously sociable. Riding on the same train with American troops, a mob of Aussies are likely to descend on the Yanks, investigate their equipment, ask every kind of personal question, find out if there’s any liquor to be had, and within five minutes be showing pictures of their girls and families.

Being simple, direct and tough, especially if he comes from the “Outback”, the Digger is often confused and non-plussed by the “manners” of Americans in mixed company or even in camp. To him those many “bloody thank you’s” and “pleases” Americans use are a bit sissified. But, on the other side of the fence, if you ask an Australian for an address in a city you happen to be, he won’t just tell you. He’ll walk eight blocks or more to show you.

There’s one thing you’ll run into - Australian’s know as little about our country as we do about theirs. To them, all American soldiers are “Yanks” - and always will be.

I went to Nagasaki last weekend. I’ve been wanting to go for quite a long time. It’s very ironic how this tiny city is famous, yet big Fukuoka where I live is almost unknown amongst Westerners. No trip, of course, would be complete without a lot of photos. My style of photography is mostly impulsive: I’ll be walking along and as the view ahead captures me, so too I will stop immediately and capture it. I have to walk around everywhere with the lens cap off and the camera switched on, as often there’s only a moment to capture something before people, vehicles or whatnot get in the way, or before someone or something moves from where I want to photograph it. As a result, what you see in my Nagasaki Album is literally all the shots I took (with Yoko’s efforts in a separate album), minus a few really bad shots from the train and photos taken to make panoramas.

I guess the most interesting part of visiting such a historically famous place is wondering what to think. Really the events that occurred 60 years ago are beyond comprehension. Even the museum, which does its best to impress on you the massive heat and blast generated by the atomic bomb cannot really achieve its goal. Even being able to touch the surface of a ceramic tile that was exposed to heat powerful enough to turn its surface from cement to glass, really doesn’t do enough. The pile of bones that are all that’s left of a person close to the hypocenter comes damn close though. People’s flesh was literally vaporised.

However, Nagasaki is more than just the Peace Park and memorials. For centuries it was the city with the most foreign trade in Japan and Japan’s centre of Christianity, with the oldest Christian church in Japan, Oura Church. A number of famous Westerners lived there as well, becoming rich through trade, and leaving their large houses behind as a reminder of what occurred there. One such house is Glover House, named after the Western owner, famous for setting up the first phone line in Japan, demonstrating the first Japanese train, sponsoring the brewery that produced the first Kirin beer and even influencing politics amongst Japanese Samurai rulers.

That’s a lot of history for a relatively tiny Japanese coastal town.

The British Library has made available online an amazing service called Turning the Pages which allows people to view many famous and fragile books in their collection online almost as if you were handling the real thing.

Some of the famous books include Leonardo Da Vinci’s personal notebook, Alice in Wonderland written and illustrated by Lewis Carol in his own hand, Mozart’s music diary, the world’s oldest printed book, a Diamond Sutra written in China and many other varied works.

The site uses Shockwave for viewing and for best results requires a broadband connection.