The Fried Eyeballs: Sunny-side Up
I am Oiler (Yes, like Euler). I'm here to talk about your eyes. Whenever work piled up, my eyes screamed. My style was simple: floor the accelerator, let the brain run wild, wrap it up, then rest. But that time, it was different. I tried a digital detox for two weeks, but the pain wouldn't stop. It was twitching—spasming. Deep behind the eyeball, a throbbing, searing heat kept me awake at night. Cold towels did nothing to stop the convulsions. In the mirror, my eyes were a grotesque tricolor. The whites were blood-red. If I were a sea bream at a fishmonger, I’d be marked ‘Final Clearance—Take it!’ It was horror for me. I couldn't even keep my eyes open for a few seconds for a photo. Eye doctors? I knew the drill: "Rest your eyes," plus generic steroids and vitamins. No thanks. I refused to let them dilate my pupils and blast my retinas with intense light for a diagnosis that meant nothing. I gorged on premium blueberries like they were medicine, but it took a year for the pain to fade. My eyes were never the same again.
The "Flying Toaster" Generation of Ape-ish Humans
Tech geeks in 2026 are likely destroying their eyes right this second. Back in the '80s, my monitor was filled with "Flying Toaster" screensavers. Those winged toasters flapping around were a necessity to prevent hardware burn-in. If they burned the monitor, they burned the eyeballs, too. I used to chase yellow dots on black backgrounds with such focus that even 7-Eleven would’ve raised the white flag. Ape-ish humans spent 40,000 years searching for food on the horizon. In 2026, staring at 60-cm screens for 16 hours. No running. Just staring. Might this mismatch cause strabismus, diplopia, glaucoma, and blindness? I’m not a doctor. I’m a survivor. Oiler's Survival Rule: I whisper to the eyeballs: "Look, look... it’s the horizon." I trick the eyeballs to stay alive.
Oiler's Ocular Debug Strategy:
- Convex Lenses: Plus lenses to relax ciliary muscles. Reduce visual strain.
- Prisms: Use base-out (BO) prisms to reduce medial rectus load.
- Patching Glasses: Suspend binocular vision. Carry two pairs—one for the left, one for the right.
The Decision-Maker is You
Lenses are industrial products manufactured within an "allowable margin of error." The optical center is not always in the dead center. A Japanese "Otaku" Optician identifies the "Optical Center" of each lens and cuts it to match the frame. They mark the pupil position on dummy lenses. Downward gaze, lying down, a tablet on the belly. Where to place the optical center? Don't leave it to the shop. The decision-maker is you.
- Oiler's Standard: Task-Specific Pairs. Driving, coding, reading papers. I choose single-vision lenses for each.
- Nylon-rimmed: Light, but the binding thread distorts the lens. A trade-off.
- Sunglasses: Dark tints dilate pupils and fry the retina. Make them with light tints.
Oiler's Observation in Milan
Like Roman Holiday, I wished to zip a Vespa through the Roman streets. When trying to get the 400cc motorcycle license required for an international permit, I noticed that my eyeballs were in serious trouble. Contacts have their limits. Glasses solve almost all the problems. So—Milan. I used a round-trip ticket to Milan. I was searching for "Spiky, Elegant, and Stylish Eyewear." I was lucky—I infiltrated the Milan Eyewear Fair (MIDO) by getting short-term contract employee status for a company. Chinese buyers were exploding with energy. I was so exhausted I’d collapse into bed without even a shower. Every morning, I’d whip my old bones, wash my hair, and shout, "Good Morning!" (Gu-n-mo-ni!). I saw attaché cases stuffed with cash. Trust is everything. While wandering the booths during free time, I was glared at like a spy: "Where the hell are you from!?" Looking back, it was pure folly. But I learned: Pick the lenses first, then the frames. Looks are vital, but eye-survival is more vital.
A Japanese "Otaku" Maker
The world of eyewear is profound. One optician once shared with me a rather daring method of tax optimization. The "earnings" from it, he said, were poured without hesitation into the development and manufacturing of children's frames—a notoriously unprofitable sector. For the inside of firefighters' SCBA facepieces, frames and lenses. Japanese nose pads—they fly away without taking the nose with them if an airbag deploys. Sports frames for the Mask of Kendo and baseball, or under the goal post of basketball. Japanese are sometimes "Otaku."
Finally, to Ape-ish Humans
If my eyes end up in a coffin, I’ll have to go in there too. I visited several eyeglass shops: Asakura Glasses at Yotsuya (before it burned down, a supplier to the Imperial Household Agency), Murata Gankyoho at Nihonbashi, and Ogura Glasses at Shibuya. Now, I entrust the life of my eyes to an optician 30 minutes away by car. I am limited. I’m getting by with money and daily ingenuity, but I regret the recklessness of my youth. Have you ever met a Japanese "Shokunin Gankyoshi" Optician? When they craft a perfect pair of glasses: The shop wins. The optician wins. And most importantly—the eyeballs win. Bring an iPad, an iPhone, or an Android—the translation tool you need. Welcome to Visit Japan.