Observations is where I break down overlooked markets, emerging trends, and the spaces where innovation thrives—digging into business, culture, and the opportunities hiding in plain sight. If it challenges convention, it’s worth exploring.
In business, there’s a deep and dangerous belief that grit is always good. We idolize the entrepreneur who “never gives up,” even if what they’re clinging to is broken beyond repair. But in reality, the most strategic decision-making often begins the moment we stop and ask: Is this worth saving?
Japan’s got an unfortunate ritual of rarely changing anything from what always has been. Exchanging business cards is one of those things, and it hasn’t changed much in decades. The accepted process is formal. Codified. You offer your card with two hands, eyes low, and receive theirs with reverence, as if each card were a small contract signed in silence.
Osaka Expo 2025 is being billed as a grand national celebration. But instead of embodying progress, it feels more like a government-sponsored hallucination—an expensive fantasy propped up by nostalgia and wilful disregard for contemporary reality.
Let’s not beat around the bush: Osaka Expo 2025 is a walking corpse, a $13 billion display of strategic incoherence masquerading as national pride.
There’s a difference between hiding and shielding. One is fear. The other is firepower. My custom Oakley sunglasses are the latter—bright red frame, mirrored orange reflective lenses, customized to be louder than necessary and impossible to miss.
In today’s world, looking neutral is a risk. Psychedelic fashion, especially the kind created by artist Tetsunori Tawaraya, does more than disrupt—it dominates. When I walk into a room wearing a long sleeve piece printed with interdimensional biomorphs, people react