tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46410536615980346892024-03-05T13:51:58.980+09:00A loss for wordsA blog of life, SF, et al.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-4638491962821781392014-05-27T09:41:00.000+09:002014-05-27T09:41:45.909+09:00Rejection, Softened.I got a rejection from Tor.com, as expected.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>However, it seemed...real. Like, I get a lot of rejection emails, but this one was the first that felt somehow genuine, as in , not only did they read my story, but they were apologetic about how long it took and in the future. Somehow, the almost sheepish tone made it feel good.<br />
<br />
But, in the end, it was a rejection, so I have a story floating unaccepted.<br />
<br />
Sigh.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-3288237858577523462014-04-17T10:05:00.001+09:002014-04-17T10:09:45.791+09:00Kind of a Review: The Best SFF 8I'm calling this "kind of" a review because reviewing an anthology, especially one with the word "best" in the name is kind of a tricky thing. Should I talk about the stories themselves? The editorial vision? The cover? And what on earth is my goal here? It's hard, and it's taken me a while to get my head together on it. But yet, but yet...I do have some things I'd like to say.<br />
<br />
So let's kind of review this book.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<br />
Here is the publisher <a href="http://www.solarisbooks.com/" target="_blank">Solaris</a>' blurb:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The celebrated <i>The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year</i> series comes to the UK – Solaris is proud to be the new home for the latest volume in Jonathan Strahan’s critically-acclaimed SFF anthology series! </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The best, most original, and brightest science fiction and fantasy stories from around the globe from the past twelve months are brought together in one collection by the multiple-award-winning editor. This highly popular series is released in the UK for the first time and includes stories from both the biggest names in the field and the most exciting new talents, including Neil Gaiman, Joe Abercrombie, Karin Tidbeck, An Owomoyela, Madeline Ashby, Lavie Tidhar, Charlie Jane Anders, Geoff Ryman, Caitlin R Kiernan and many more. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
With a fantastic range of diverse authors and cutting-edge science fiction, this essential book is an established series in the US but has only been found on import in the UK. It now joins Solaris’ high-profile anthology list. </blockquote>
Now, even just a cursory glance at the author list will tell you this is big leagues stuff. And Jonathan Strahan, the editor, has a damned fine track record with not only this series, but his <i>Starry Night</i> anthology and many (MANY) more. And having read this book, I can say that yes, if you are a fan of SFF, or are interested in seeing where the current state of short speculative fiction lies, this will be a good overview. For those wondering if it lives up the "Best of " pedigree, I certainly think so. I believe there are some really great stories here, and no clunkers.<br />
<br />
For me, the highlight of the anthology is Yoon Ha Lee's beautifully written <i>Effigy Nights.</i> The language is lush and deep, and flows around the border between SF and Fantasy with grace.<br />
<br />
Neal Gaiman's story, <i>The Sleeper and the Spindle</i>, is Neal Gaiman-y through and through, a loving take on an old story (yes, you guessed which one), and certainly well worth including.<br />
<br />
I could go on and on about the good stories and the great stories, but in terms of ideas to grab on to, in terms of something to actually discuss, I want to focus on the "why" of this anthology. In his introduction, Mr. Strahan writes about his direction for this collection, a desire to explore the breadth of current SFF from the core to the fringes, however:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I have restricted this book to stories that I believe are definitely SF or fantasy in some way. That’s the contract I have with you, the reader, so some stories that I loved this year aren’t here because I couldn’t convince myself they belonged (the best example of this is Karen Joy Fowler’s wonderful “The Science of Herself” which has a science fictional worldview, but isn’t really SF at all), while the stories you’re about to encounter will hopefully delight and entertain while providing a view of what SF was about in 2013."</blockquote>
This is, obviously, a respectable attitude to have toward a "Best of" anthology, and one I can get behind. However, the statement itself, that these stories are "definitely SF or Fantasy in some way" is challenged thoroughly by the first story, and somewhat by the second.<br />
<br />
The first story, Joe Abercrombie's <i>Some Desperado</i> is unabashedly, obviously and inarguably a Western.<br />
A bank robber is fleeing from a trio of bounty hunters across a wasted desert, she stumbles on a crumbling ghost town and through luck, wit and plain old grit is able to turn the tables. The only non-Western element I can find is an absence of guns (the bounty hunters use bows and a"cavalry sabre," a weapon that was in use in the American West well past the Civil War). Seriously. There is no magic, no non-human creatures, no far off lands (the lands remain unnamed throughout) or exotic Gods or Goddesses, and no reference to kings, knights, or other standard Fantasy tropes. There is literally nothing that would prevent this story from being published as a Western except the use of "marks" instead of dollars or pesos. And yet, if we take Strahan at his word, he feels this story "definitely" falls in the realm of modern Fantasy. This, I take it, is a statement about the genre itself: its mainstreaming, its blurring and shifting base, has lead to a much more relaxed definition of what Fantasy actually is. And I'm fine with that.<br />
<br />
The same might be said for Greg Egan's "Zero for Conduct." Apart from the pun of the title (you'll get it after you read the story) the story could very well happen tomorrow. I mean, I'm no physicist or chemist, so I can't judge just how possible or impossible the creation of the key tech in the story really is, but in terms of the setting, the political and social implications of disruptive technologies in the current day, this story might be as much at home in The New Yorker as in (the sadly defunct) Isaac Asimov's...but here it is, in a Best of SFF anthology.<br />
<br />
Naturally, the majority of stories in the collection are much clearer and less arguable, but still represent the changing flavor and blurring lines of the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres. The above mentioned Yoon Ha Lee story is a space opera as imagined by Guy Gavriel Kay. Lavie Tidhar's <i>The Bookseller</i> nods directly at the way genres and definitions thereof evolve. This is, overall, a refreshingly modern feeling anthology across the board in terms of theme, setting and character.<br />
<br />
And of course, I would be entirely remiss in not mentioning the fact that this anthology has stories written by women! At least 11 of them (K J Parker is an enigma)! And people with non-European sounding names! Given the recent issues with gender and ethnicity that have been boiling over in the SFF world the past few years, I honestly think it's important to note that this book showcases not only stories featuring outside-the-usual SFF settings and characters, but also writers who are not the usual white guy SFF authors. (There are a LOT of white guy SFF authors, people. WAY too many, I often think.)<br />
<br />
So, in short, get it. Read it. Enjoy it.<br />
Amazon.co.jp Affiliate link: <a href="http://www.amazon.co.jp/gp/product/1781082162/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=247&creative=1211&creativeASIN=1781082162&linkCode=as2&tag=jd01-22">The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year: Volume Eight (Best SF & Fantasy of the Year)</a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://ir-jp.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=jd01-22&l=as2&o=9&a=1781082162" height="1" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-1523561872927511522014-03-22T11:18:00.001+09:002014-03-24T13:27:28.162+09:00Review: Talus and the Frozen King<div class="tr_bq">
A few words about a fun little (pre-)historical fantasy book I just read.</div>
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One sentence review: A neolithic Sherlock takes us on a fun and fast paced adventure in a world before words like "justice" even existed.</div>
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<a name='more'></a>I got on the mailing list of Solaris books, and they were kind enough to send me an e-ARC of this title for perusal. For a nice little summary, here is the publisher's blurb:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
WWW.SOLARISBOOKS.COM<br />
<br />
Solaris Books™ is a trademark or registered trademark used by or under the licence of the Rebellion Group or its associated companies.<br />
<br />
<b>Talus and the Frozen King</b> by<br />
Graham Edwards<br />
<br />
Meet the world’s first detective on 26th March (US & Canada) and 10th April (UK)<br />
<br />
£7.99 (UK)<br />
ISBN 978-1-78108-198-3<br />
<br />
$8.99/$10.99 (US & CAN)<br />
ISBN 978-1-7810-8-199-0<br />
<br />
Available in paperback and ebook<br />
<i>“A close cousin to the writings of Conan Doyle, Christie, and Marsh... Mystery fans </i><i>will look forward to Talus’s future investigations.” – Publisher’s Weekly </i><br />
3000 BC: A dead warrior king frozen in winter ice. Six grieving sons, each with his own reason to kill. Two weary travellers caught up in a web of suspicion and deceit. Meet Talus – the Bronze Age Detective! <br />
Even at the dawn of society, murder is an ancient habit. But Talus is the first man who understands that the identity of an unknown killer can be found, if you can start asking the right questions. <br />
Neither historical fantasy nor crime fiction has ever seen anything like Talus before – a wandering bard who, with his companion Bran, journey to the island realm of Creyak, where the king has been murdered. From clues scattered among the island’s mysterious barrows and stone circles, they begin their search for his killer. Nobody is above suspicion, from the king’s heir to the tribal shaman, from the woman steeped in herb-lore to the visiting warlord. And when death strikes again, it will take a clever man indeed to unravel the truth. The kind of man this ancient world has not seen before. <br />
Edwards brings a unique character to the world of crime fiction while blending myth, legend, and fantasy into a rich tapestry about a bright light amidst humanity’s darkest dawn. </blockquote>
(NB: The blurb says it's bronze-age, but is most decidedly stone age, specifically late Neo-lithic. There is no metalwork...just saying.)<br />
<br />
For my take, it's a really fun little read. Talus is no Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot, but he has a certain endearing reality to him. Instead of relying on scientific observation, or his "little brain cells" he seems to understand people-and the author implies that Talus' very identity as a storyteller helps him in this, with his fundamental grasp of human motivations and reactions, while he himself seems somewhat distant from his own humanity.<br />
<br />
The writing is well-crafted, without all the intrusive pitfalls that so often throw me off. The pacing is tight, and there are none of the dreaded infodumps that so plague spec fiction. The characters are consistent and believable, despite their existence in a reality so far removed from our own. I enjoyed the book quite a lot. For some reason I was under the impression that this was Mr. Edwards' first novel so I was VERY impressed, but then I actually took the time to research him and it turns out he's been a professional writer for some time, so it turns out I was reading someone who knows what he's doing.<br />
<br />
The mystery portion of the story is deftly handled, though not perhaps at the levels of Christie or Marsh, as the publishers implied. It is sensible, revealed naturally, and satisfying in solution, though not excessively surprising. It's an engaging part of the story, but perhaps not as deep as a true crime fiction fan might hope for.<br />
<br />
Now, the book is a fun, decently written adventure. It's not a deep glimpse into the vagaries of human emotion, it's not an artful revery on being and time. It's aimed at the fantasy lover with a taste for history and/or crime fiction, not someone looking for a philosophical challenge.<br />
<br />
In short, I'd give it 3.5 stars out of 5, and a "give it a try!" recommendation.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-18100707467304819602014-03-06T10:07:00.001+09:002014-03-06T10:07:10.479+09:00Submissions submissionsSo I'm not sure what got into me, but I've submitted a story to Tor.com.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I've always stuck to smaller press before, probably due to lack of confidence, but something made me want to go for the big leagues. Maybe it's the $.25 a word? could be, could be.<br />
<br />
But I fully expect a rejection, and the story goes on and on.<br />
<br />
I do wonder, though. Time is soon to be my biggest resource, and I've been writing a story out (by hand!) that feels...good. Big. Something that might be something more than anything I've done yet.<br />
<br />
Who knows what the future will bring, as my wife always mentions when I talk about "til death do us part" stuff. ;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-44259727368930116852013-05-12T22:35:00.002+09:002013-05-12T22:35:55.787+09:00Review: NOS4A2 by Joe HillI have recently become a big fan of Joe Hill's work, and I got on board just in time to preorder his latest novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/NOS4A2-ebook/dp/B009NF6Z2K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368363647&sr=8-1&keywords=nos4a2" target="_blank">NOS4A2</a>. It's out now, and I just finished it, and it has set some mental wheels in motion.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>So, just to get started, here's my (almost) one sentence review:<br />
A well written but imperfect book, it's a thoroughly modern, darkly fantastical familial thriller. Well worth a read in paperback.<br />
<br />
First, because reviews usually need some kind of summary, this is the story of Vic McQueen, who is also known as the Brat, who is apparently one of a few people who has the power to bend reality and access a semi-real realm of the imagination known as the Inscape (where it just so happens a certain place called Midworld can be found...maybe?). She uses her power to find lost things, via a decrepit bridge called the Shortaway.<br />
<br />
It is also the story of another person with similar powers, named Charles Talent Manx. He uses his Inscape access to create a world called Christmasland, where he takes children after he drains them of some part of their humanity, turning them into ugly little vampiric monsters, so he can live long and young and strong.<br />
<br />
And it is the story of Vic's madness and family and how she bridges (hah hah!) reality and fantasy and has to save her son from Manx. It's a pretty good book, all in all, if you like a bit of depth in your (almost) horror stories. If we use Mr. Hill's father's work as a point of reference, for example, this is probably closer to <i>Misery</i> than, say, <i>Pet Sematery.</i> Sure, it has some supra-natural elements, but it's more deeply rooted in the nastiness of people than in gibbering horrors from beyond the pale.<br />
<br />
Now, I feel I have to preface the more in-depth part of my review with a slight...warning. At this point, I'm not sure what to make of my reaction to this book. I have read it, and reread parts of it, and have thought about it a lot. And I find that, although the characters are deeply thought-out and demonstrably "real," at the end of the day I find that, basically, I don't care about them. Some of the characters (MINOR SPOILER) die. I should have been upset, but I wasn't. Some of the characters (MINOR SPOILER AGAIN) undergo tremendous suffering, and I still didn't care. I didn't wince, I didn't think "oh poor person..." I just read on.<br />
<br />
What's more, I found myself at times wondering how much longer the book would go on. It seemed protracted, at times, for reasons I still can't figure out.<br />
<br />
Maybe what I mean is, Joe Hill is a hell of a writer. His pacing is deliberate and careful, and he does not fall prey to cliche or hackiness. His dialog is snappy and natural and never forced. I have enjoyed everything he has written up to now, and reading NOS4A2 I can not at all say that it is any less than his other work...but I didn't enjoy it very much. "Why?" you must obviously ask! "I don't exactly know!" I must honestly answer!<br />
<br />
However, I can make some stabs. The chapters in this book often end very abruptly, sometimes in midsentence, with the title of the next chapter completing the thought. This is clearly a deliberate artistic choice, and one I can't argue with the author about--but for me, it sometimes felt like it resulted in uneven progression, interruption, and created a frequent desire to do something else.<br />
<br />
In addition, there were times when I felt that our protagonist was acting without real agency but simple instinct, and indeed there was a large amount of pure chance in her biggest victories. To me, this made the deep suffering she underwent almost meaningless. She did not become stronger, or even weaker, because of it; she just kept stumbling through and ended up victorious. This might even be an example of how very real and honest the characterization in this book is. Real people often just do what seems like they should do, and luck out in the end, but it made it hard for me to engage on a more emotional level, for some reason. The climax, in fact, was so random and undeliberate that I almost missed it. I had to go back and reread it, thinking "oh....was that it?"<br />
<br />
There is still plenty to recommend the book. As I said, it overall really is a well crafted book, and the way it plays with time is interesting. The characters are honest and deep and real, and the creepy bits are creepy enough. The car is a pretty cool cat, too. And for us Constant Readers of Stephen King, there are some pretty nice Easter eggs in there to give you a bit of a smile. Like I said above, I reckon this is well worth a paperback purchase on those merits alone. But if you were to press me about Mr. Hill's works, I'd say I much preferred <i>Heart Shaped Box </i>and <i>Horns </i>to this one, and leave it at that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-5247038996424345752013-05-05T21:28:00.001+09:002013-05-05T21:36:39.078+09:00Wolfhound Century - A Review<i>Disclosure</i>: I received this book as part of Golancz Publishing's Golancz Geeks program, but I believe I can still be relatively impartial.<br />
<br />
<b>One line review</b>: fast, stylish politically minded thriller with fantasy roots and literary dreams.<br />
<br />
Peter Higgins' first novel, Wolfhound Century, is a bit of a puzzler. It might be the most unique book I've read all year; it is certainly one of the more interesting.<br />
<a name='more'></a>Making a tight, clear summary isn't the easiest task, but I'll do my best. The story is set in a fictional land very clearly based on early Soviet-era Russia, but instead of the Soviets you have something called the Vlast, instead of the premier you have the Novozhd, etc. There is still a clear sense of paranoia and suspicion, the mistrust of artists, intellectuals and minority groups, and the police state violence you'd expect from a Soviet thriller, but this is a fantasy novel...there are giants, mystical forests with mysterious creatures, and a battle between forces greater than we first perceive.<br />
<br />
Our central character is Inspector Vissarion Lom, a provincial policeman on the bad side of his superiors and colleagues due to an uncommon dedication to honesty and justice. He's called to the capitol, Mirgorod, to act as a secret policeman investigating a terrorist cum political agitant named Joseph Kantor, who appears to have protection from within the upper ranks of the government itself. All of this reads like standard police procedural type fare, and it is, but as we follow Lom in his investigation, we learn that there is much more to this city, and these men, than is first apparent. For example, why are there giant stone angels falling to earth, with apparently vast powers stored in their stony flesh? Why does Lom have a plug of this flesh embedded in his forehead? Why does the city occasionally experience twists in reality, as if another place, a natural place of water and trees and wind spirits, is trying to be reborn? It's all very mysterious!<br />
<br />
I have, perhaps, come across a bit too glib, but this book is not at all so. It is quite earnest, actually, and does an excellent job of evoking the gray reality of the city of Mirgorod through language. It is in fact the language that sets this book apart in the genre, although its deeply original world is withy of respect as well. This is a rare book, I think, in that it gently evokes the tropes of high fantasy (giants, mystical forest creatures et all) while focusing on a much more modern style of low fantasy, with less clear motivations than just good vs evil, bad wizard vs shining hero. It meditates on political realities at the same time as it plays with magical ones, and it does this all in a style that carefully treads the line between literary lyricism and noirish clipping, stylish while never being obfuscatory.
The writing is clearly deliberate and careful. The words and syntax are chosen for effect and sound as well as just meaning, and it is generally a pleasure to read. There are times when it feels like Higgins got a bit too caught up in his desire for style, occasionally using a few too many ellipses to indicate confusion, or repeating a word deliberately until it seems to lose all meaning, but these are the missteps of a writer who clearly cares about his craft beyond just writing a ripping yarn. I can forgive that.<br />
<br />
The blurbs on the cover mention China Mieville, and I will admit that if you are looking for a comparison, that might be a good one. Wolfhound Century does recall The City and City, in style and in spirit, with its Eastern Europe-that-never-was vibe and its juxtaposition of flat, police-procedural tone with unbelievable scenarios (in Wolfhound Century, Inspector Lom gets in a fight with rain!). However, I also found myself similarly reminded of Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union in tone and pace, though Chabon is more masterful with his control of language and story, not to mention thematic depth. In short, this book is probably less for the Conan/Tanis Halfelven set than the Sevarian/Tyador Borlú.<br />
<br />
I have one big problem with the book, though. There is no resolution at all. Zero. It feels, in the end, as if the entire book is just the first act of a three part arc; we don't see the real conflict's parameters and the players don't really come into their own until the very end, meaning it's all been just setting up the real story, presumably for a sequel although no mention is made on the cover or elsewhere. I fear this may be yet another trilogy... This is particularly aggravating because the book isn't that long, just over 300 pages in hardcover. It's a fast, enjoyable and even rewarding read, with some very nice writing and real originality, but in the end is unsatisfying. I certainly want more, which I suppose is the desired effect. I just wish I'd known upfront that this was just the beginning.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-36118865160506187782013-05-02T20:01:00.001+09:002013-05-02T20:01:11.047+09:00A Nice Day at Miyajima<p dir="ltr">It's nice living an hour's drive from a world heritage site. Especially on a beautiful day like today!</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIuSrGUY53qrtf0sVw5o7vn7drB8ekIZBXS0aodJFFumMv9vklVypua13TmJEPIVuhB9QOZ3tcaImQHxJPzNdFi7MDa-N9FYt5T6kFYafWvdJqYwwDDTSJVeDAsjRyeAe7oyOKeGemYU/s1600/B41D790F-1630-4AD4-96F2-A5CCD11FEE19.JPG' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIuSrGUY53qrtf0sVw5o7vn7drB8ekIZBXS0aodJFFumMv9vklVypua13TmJEPIVuhB9QOZ3tcaImQHxJPzNdFi7MDa-N9FYt5T6kFYafWvdJqYwwDDTSJVeDAsjRyeAe7oyOKeGemYU/s640/B41D790F-1630-4AD4-96F2-A5CCD11FEE19.JPG' /> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-35329150845832788952013-04-30T16:09:00.001+09:002013-04-30T16:09:15.544+09:00Berserk - A Dark Fantasy Manga that Breaks the MoldI've said before, perhaps, that I am not generally a fan of Manga. The whole idea that Manga represents some special expression of Japanese culture and is embraced as such by the people of Japan is silly. They're comic books. Some people like reading them, and a few of them have reached cultural icon status, but in general they're ridiculous man-boy fantasies full of pneumatic women and boys with hidden secrit ultimate powah. The rare exceptions, then, deserve some attention.<br />
<br />
I think <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berserk_(manga)">Berserk </a>is one of those.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I first heard about it in reference to one of my favorite games, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Souls">Dark Souls</a>. In an interview with the Japanese magazine Famitsu, the game developers mentioned getting inspiration from several aspects of it, so I thought I'd check it out; I love not only the design of Dark Souls and its characters, but also the general atmosphere of decay and despair it brings. I hoped that Berserk would bring something similar.<br />
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I was right.<br />
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Berserk is like some kind of bizarre marriage between Lovecraftian mythics, Spaghetti Westerns and high fantasy. It's set in a pseudo-Medieval Europe, where war is endless and mercenary bands wander the country earning a living by storming castles and murdering as many people as possible. The central character, Guts (ガッツ) walks through this world like an open razor, killing and destroying without pause. Like the Man with No Name in A Fistful of Dollars, he does do some good if only in that he kills very bad guys, but his motivations are at heart selfish...or, they might be, if he had any apparent motivation. For the first few stories, he basically just shows up in a town bearing his ridiculously large sword and kills his way to the local lord, who is for some reason always a horrible man-eating demon in disguise. Then, he kills the demon. Then, he leaves.<br />
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It's beautiful in its brutal purity.<br />
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One of my major pet peeves in Manga is the ubiquitous "cuteness." There is always a point in manga where a silly little person jumps up and down in anger, drawn in a whimsical style totally at odds with everything else, no matter how serious the story has been. There is always some tough small girl who for some reason ends up on a battlefield or in between two monsters and yells at everyone for being mean. It's silly, and it never seems to add anything to the story. Kentarou Miura, the manga-ka behind Berserk, seems to agree with me for, although he does have such a character (a little fairy named Puck), every time it starts to act up someone threatens to stab/crush/bisect it. And the little girl that ends up in the midst of battle is forced to watch her father dismembered, then is only prevented from falling to her death when Guts catches her hands. ON THE EDGE OF HIS SWORD. Sure, she lives, but I imagine she's going to have trouble tying her shoes for a while.<br />
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So here I am, reading my way through a manga series that's been coming out since 1990 or so, like some kind of otaku geek. But I don't have any plastic Puck figures on my desk, at least. Not yet, anyway...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-60369175328584051702013-04-28T20:32:00.001+09:002013-04-28T20:34:03.874+09:006 years and a bit.<p dir="ltr">April 28,2006 I got a call from my barber/friend asking if I'd like to go to dinner with him and his niece, Tomomi; I said sure, why not? We talked, had dinner, and thought nothing of it...</p>
<p dir="ltr">The next day his wife called me and asked if I'd like to go to Tomomi's office and talk. I said sure, why not? I went, we talked, and both of us thought the aunt was acting a little...odd. I thought it was even odder when, after leaving the office, aunty drove me out into the mountains to meet Tomomi's mom.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But things started to click when uncle and aunt planned a barbecue and we were sent shopping together the next week. And after Tomi and I went on our first trip together, that June, I figured it out-this is the person I was supposed to be with forever. I proposed then, and on April 28, 2007 we made it official.</p>
<p dir="ltr">6 years is son short, but so full and rich and important. 6 years took me from penniless and single to comfortably middle class, married and a father.</p>
<p dir="ltr">All thanks to a very perceptive barber.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Thanks, Hiroki-san.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-24756413240773799422013-04-26T10:17:00.000+09:002013-04-26T10:17:13.453+09:00Blog Necromancy!Ever notice how the combination of procrastination and age can lead to things just...slipping through the cracks?<br />
Let's see if we can't reverse this nasty ugly trend. Abracadabra...It lives again!<br />
Now, a new challenge. Something new, every single day. Can I do it? Let's see!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-60782505255832509252012-09-03T22:38:00.002+09:002012-09-03T22:39:26.671+09:00Some Thoughts on "The Future is Japanese"<div>
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So here I am, back on this blog, because I feel compelled (really) to write about a book of short stories I just read. Some of this has been keeping me up at night, so I figure getting it out of my head will offer some catharsis.<br />
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So let's talk (a lot) about <b>The Future is Japanese. </b><i>(Warning, this is really quite long.)</i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.haikasoru.com/the-future-is-japanese/">The Future is Japanese</a></i></div>
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Haikasoru Publishing</div>
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The book in question is an anthology of Fantastika with some connection to Japan or things Japanese. It sells itself as an anthology of Japanese SF, but there are stories here that are most significantly NOT SF, and stories here with only the most tenuous connection to the country, people or culture of Japan, so I hesitate to recommend it as such. It is, however, well worth a read for people with interests in any of the above. There are some really good SF stories here, and some fascinating representations of Japan and its culture/people. There are also some less fascinating representations, but we'll get into that.</div>
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I bought the book because I have enjoyed a few of Haikasoru's other publications, and because Nick Mamatas sells it well on twitter and such. I bought the Kindle edition, and have no regrets about it at all--I enjoyed and admired the majority of the stories in it. I wish there were more stories from Japanese authors here, but I recognize that the numbers just don't allow it The market for short SF in Japan is minuscule; there is only one monthly publication printing short SF and each month they only have one or two stories by Japanese authors. There is sure to be much more underground or independent fiction, but access has got to be a problem; thus, there probably just isn't much to put into the book, and the need to pad the Japanese stories with stuff written by Non-Japanese. Fair enough, though lamentable. </div>
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But how are the stories? Let's see.</div>
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<b>The Best</b></div>
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There are some very good stories, here, that are well worth the price of admission and the time. Stories with big ideas, with good prose, and enough fun to satisfy both s<a href="http://nihilistic-kid.livejournal.com/1777161.html">uperior and the inferior readership</a>.</div>
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My personal favorites are:</div>
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*"The Sea of Trees" by Rachel Swirsky. This is a sad, creepy, honest story about a sad, creepy, honest place. It centers on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aokigahara">Aokigahara</a> forest, at the foot of Mt. Fuji: the Suicide Forest, as it is sometimes known. In addition to the very effective horror and the plot that works on several levels, the thing that works best about this one is it actually captures a particular kind of "Japaneseness." What I mean by that is, the characters and their behavior and their relationship to the world ring true to me. I have met people like this, living outside of Japanese society (though not, perhaps, as far outside as Nao) who think similarly and have the same kinds of scars, and this could be their story. I've already read it twice more and enjoyed it each time.</div>
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The prose, too, is good, solid, clear. It is spare but not naked. It is superior, I think, and it respects the truth of the setting, that there is a place in Japan where people go to die, and that is enough to create emotional resonance in anyone. And, particularly pleasingly, it gets the myth of Hone-Onna right, as opposed to another "story" in this collection.</div>
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*"The Sound of Breaking Up" by Felicity Savage. This is, perhaps, the one story in the collection that best evokes the book's title. It starts in a Future Japan that is clear and pure extrapolation of the trends that are shaping the country today. The falling birthrate and the government's desperate attempts to turn it around, the focus on robotics to replace the workers that are no longer being born to keep Japan Inc. running, and the increasing disinterest in other people that seems to be growing daily. (The word "Skinship" is real, folks: There is a word used in Japanese to denote someone that likes to touch their partners, and it is borrowed from English.) However, in the middle, this story takes a very hard right turn and becomes something else--still interesting, still good, but no longer excellent.<br />
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*"Golden Bread" by Issui Ogawa. This one actually brought out an "Oh, wow." I've had to reread it three times, to make sure I know where my head is with it. However, I think a lot of people will have a different reaction. The story is, on a superficial level, a "Soldier ends up trapped away from his army and gets his head all mixed up by the charming natives" kind of thing. On a slightly less superficial level, it is an examination of a cultural reversal, an examination of what a Japan back on the Imperial path might look like, when faced with a mirror version of its older self. However, for me, I felt I was reading an author actually examining the nonsense traditionalist jingoism of the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nihonjinron">Nihonjinron</a>" from the inside out.</div>
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For those who don't know, "Nihonjinron" is a catch-all term used to describe a vast body of texts all focused on the rather odd idea of "explaining Japaneseness." In real terms, it is a codification of the idea that the Japanese are "Uniquely Unique," that their bodies and their ideas and their culture are all special to them. It is not really something people think about, there aren't classes in school teaching kids all about the Nihonjinron, but it is something that permeates thought here, and for those who lack, or refuse to use, critical thinking skills it actually has some influence. Thus, upon talking about Japanese food with a class of adults, you may hear "The Japanese are traditionally vegetarians, that's why we have longer intestines, and thus longer torsos" with no one batting an eyelash...despite the fact that all three of those statements are factually incorrect (unless you count whales, dolphins, fish, grasshoppers, boars, deer and birds as vegetables...). </div>
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In the story, the central character spouts very similar ideas about physiology, national character, and more...but stating ideas directly in opposition to traditionally held Nihonjinron concepts. When Yutaka Kubuki says "We are a people that require calories. We were born to consume meat and flour and sugar, so we can build a powerful military and contribute to Yamato's prosperity," I can't help but grin...it sounds like Nihonjinron, but ran through the filter of Western cultural influence. When he went on to explain how his Caucasian hosts are genetically programmed to enjoy the taste of rice, whereas the Japanese Yamato lack the proper enzymes to properly digest it, I actually laughed out loud. I have heard almost the exact same thing, with a simple reversal of races, here in Japan. Awesome.</div>
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Of course, the story also works as an examination of the fear of cultural drift. The Yamato that Kubuki remember from his history books is the Japan of today--international, westernized, full of department stores and imported oil. The Kalif colony he is hosted in is an idyllic reimagining of traditional Japanese country life, with rice paddies and manual labor instead of robots and vat-grown meat...but it's populated by blond-haired, blue-eyed white people (and they are explicitly described as such...go Japanese racial politics!).</div>
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It's a complex, interesting, and exciting story. It's a translation, though, so don't expect knock-down prose. Comes with the territory, I reckon.</div>
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*I also liked some of the other stories, if not as much as those. “Autogenic Dreaming: Interview with the Columns of Clouds”<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"> </span>from TOBI Hirotaka, is interesting for its complex and intelligent look at the implications of Google Books (or rather, Goedel's Entangled Library) and the indexing of all of Human Knowledge, as filtered through the ideas of a serial killer. “Chitai Heiki Koronbīn” by David Moles was fun in the way it turns the Japanese Manga stalwart of teens in giant robots fighting evil invaders inside out. The requisite Keikaku Itoh story, "The Indifference Engine" was deep and its big ideas about race, war, hatred, and humanity/inhumanit filled out nicely, but the translation left much to be desired, in my opinion. I'll have to track down the original to find out what the Japanese for "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck that" [sic] is. (I counted, that's 11 "u"s.)</div>
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Most of the other stories were kind of OK, except for:</div>
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<b>The Bad</b></div>
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*"Mono no Aware" bu Ken Liu. I'm sure the writer is a good guy, someone who cares deeply about what he does. I applaud the dedication to writing that it must have taken to become a published writer. But this story is so very, very bad.</div>
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Listen, it takes a lot of things to be a writer. I try to have them, but I assume I don't because I've basically given up submitting stories. So I want very much not to be one of those stone throwing readers; my house is made of very thin glass. However, when I read this story, I felt like a crazy person. How can this be published? How can it be published under the eye of the guy who was so recently talking about "Superior and Inferior Writers?"</div>
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The fundamental problems of this story are, it imagines a Japan populated by people who have never lived, anywhere. It uses cliches and stereotypes to describe that nation, and it shows a tin-ear for dialogue and a lack of even the most basic understanding of human relationships.</div>
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Within the first few pages, we are shown a world under threat of annihilation, yet the Japanese characters are so "orderly" as they line up for evacuation, and of course they greet each other "politely." Yes, he uses those words. Oh, those Japanese! Always so orderly and polite, even when faced with the destruction of the whole world! Just like after the Tohoku Earthquake, no looting or rioting like you get everywhere else, everyone so calm and so damned Japanese. (The author actually uses that imagery. I wonder what inspired him to write this story? Hmmm...)</div>
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The main character is a survivor of that tragedy, perhaps the last living representative of the Japanese people. He reminisces about his father, who is a pure paragon of all that mystical Japaneseness so beloved by geeks of every stripe. Take this passage (it hurts me to type this.)</div>
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"Hiroto, I want you to remember this," Dad said. He looked around, overcome by emotion. "It is in the face of disasters that we show our strength as a people. Understand that we are not defined by our individual loneliness, but by the web of relationships in which we're enmeshed. A person must rise above his selfish needs so that all of us can live in harmony. The individual is small and powerless, but bound tightly together, as a whole, the Japanese nation is invincible."</blockquote>
(<i>The Future is Japanese,</i> Kindle edition, Loc 130 of 6486. How does one quote Kindle books, anyway?)<br />
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Keep in mind, this is man is speaking to his eight year old son. Who talks like that to children? Not any Japanese father I've ever met. Or any American, German, Russian or French one for that matter. And later, when they see the ship that is to take them off-planet, we read: '"I would like a window seat." I said, imagining the stars streaming by. "You should yield the window seat to those younger than you," Dad said. "Remember, we must all make sacrifices to live together."' [Loc 150] Notice the polite phrasing, "would" and "should", as well as the lack of contractions (a linguistic mark of formality or politeness in English) which is a constant reminder of OH SO POLITE! Japaneseness, despite the fact that <i>Keigo,</i> or actual polite Japanese,<i> </i>is never used for close family members, unless that family member is an asshole. And that answer! Way to tell teach that 8 year old all about sacrifice. Can you smell the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamato-damashii">Yamato Damashii</a>?<br />
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Here's how I imagine that conversation would actually go, after years of teaching kids and their parents here in Japan:<br />
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ねね、お父さん、ひろとがね、窓際に座りたい。ね、お父さん!(Trans: Hey, hey dad! Hey, Hiroto [Japanese children esp. tend to refer to themselves in the third person] wants to sit by the window! Hey, dad!)<br />
うるさい、馬鹿門。我侭言いワン!("Hush, moron. Enough with your selfishness!")<br />
Loud crying ensues, until mom gets angry at dad for not indulging the boy, and dad ignores mom for, well, ever, and goes to buy some Happoshu.<br />
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After that, it only gets worse. The father starts spouting Haiku and Chinese poetry, and the boy's reaction is: "It is like a gentle kitten licking the inside of my heart." I shit you not. Someone wrote that, and thought it sounded like something a human child would say.<br />
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There's a bunch of other nonsense, about Go and Kanji and Samurai swords, stuff that Japan-geeks love. None of it matters, because it's all about how being Japanese means you have to kill yourself for honor. But be polite when you do it, ok?<br />
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*“One Breath, One Stroke” by Catherynne M. Valente. Unreadable nonsense, scattered with Japanese myths divorced from their truth like some kind of literary <i>Japonisme </i>throwback<i>.</i> I tried to read it three times, gave up each time. Every last word sounds like a a lie, ignorance wrapped in paper thin ornamental vocabulary. For people who like fake flowers, it is sure to please.<br />
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And that's what I thought. God, that felt good to get out of my system. I'm sure there are plenty who will disagree, especially about the "Bad" section, but that's life for you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-955634427599077582011-10-07T12:50:00.004+09:002011-10-07T13:04:27.485+09:00Once More Unto The BreachAfter a bit of a hiatus, I remembered that I had a blog here. I've got two others that I remembered: my shaving/honing blog at www.easternsmooth.com/blog and my Japanese blog at http://blogs.yahoo.co.jp/orionsbowone, but this one...<br /><br />I'm not sure what it's for anymore. It used to be for stories and reviews, and I guess it still is. But recently, I think I just need something to keep my brain moving. I'm aging, and things are slowing down under my thinning hair, and I need to nip that crap in the bud.<br /><a name='more'></a><br />One way I'm trying to do that is I've started working on copyediting skills. Copyediting, you say? Whyever would you do that?<br /><br />Well, I reply, think about it. It involves careful reading and detailed consideration of every word, punctuation mark, sentence and paragraph of a text. It's not just looking at grammar and spelling mistakes, it's looking at logical connection and arrangement, and tweaking things to work better. It is, to be honest, my favorite part of the job I already do (as a Business English teacher, I spend a lot of time correcting and rewriting reports and presentations) so if I can turn that into some kind of sharpened skill, and perhaps even get some money for it, why not?<br /><br />And thus I return to this blog, as a way to limber up my word-brain, blow the dust out of the linguistic pipes a bit and see if I can't mix more metaphors to describe the fact that I'm going to spend more times with words for words' sake.<br /><br />So hello again, and let's see if we can't make this a bit more fruitful, ok?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10437081167729816547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-4454154381160068482011-07-06T11:07:00.000+09:002011-07-06T11:07:47.063+09:00Death Kappa Comes In The Night!I love this movie...<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Japanese cinema suffers from much of the same sequel-obsession and lack of originality that plagues Hollywood, but at times there seems to be a bit more willingness to take risks than you see in the big-budget, big-stakes movies coming out of the US. Takashi Miike, for example, is one of Japan's most famous film makers and director of highly acclaimed dramas like <i>Thirteen Assassins</i> or <i>Hara Kiri: Death of a Samurai</i>, family friendly kid movies like <i>The Great Yokai War</i> et al. At the same time, he makes some of the most <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Visitor_Q">controversial</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichi_the_Killer">ultra-violent</a> and at times <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sukiyaki_Western:_Django">bizarre </a>films in Japan. His more risque' work does nothing to interfere with his acceptance as a mainstream filmmaker, and he is not alone in this.<br />
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So despite the boring sameness of most films in Japan, there is also a healthy dose of well-budgeted films that are, frankly, out there. This makes me very happy--especially as it led to the creation and relatively healthy support of <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1642193/">Death Kappa</a>.</i><br />
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This movie, OH this movie. I love it. It's freaking insane, but I love it.<br />
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I guess a brief synopsis is in order, but I'm not sure how much good it will do in conveying how wonderful I think it is.<br />
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So here's the story. We start with a young woman, Kanako, trudging back into her small mountain home-town.<br />
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We are given to understand that she is coming home from Tokyo, where she had failed as an "Idol," one of the numerous pop singing, bikini clad cuties that are plastered all over Japanese media. She is coming to live with her grandmother, who raised her, but as she approaches the kindly old Kimono-clad woman, a carload of drunken, stupid "City kids" run her over in their convertible.<br />
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This is played for laughs.<br />
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As the old woman dies in the her granddaughter's arms, her last words are an order to look after the family "kappa shrine."<br />
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At this point, we see a short interstitial scene where a Spanish man explains what a Kappa is in an expansive, professorial manner.<br />
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This is deadly serious.<br />
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We cut to...later?...The same day? I have no idea, but the young woman has taken over her duties at the family shrine, praying and offering cucumbers to the kappa (Kappa love cucumbers. Really.). But when she comes back from her Kappa feeding, she finds two unidentified boys (one of whom appears to be about 10, the other is...25? 30?, but dressed as a child.) have come into the shrine and are listening to a cassette of the only album she released as an Idol. For some reason, this music attracts a real life Kappa, and he comes into the yard to dance to the bubbly pop song. At which point, the three young people then begin cavorting with the hideous monster as the pop song plays...and then it all turns into a Karaoke style music video for the song, complete with lyrics and shots of Kanako in cute outfits. Crying.<br />
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I wish I had a video of this. Youtube failed me...it really must be seen to be believed. A cute young Japanese girl running through the surf and splashing water with a man in a rubber Kappa suit, singing lyrics that translate to something like "Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow, lucky happy! Run by the beach, I'm wearing panties, smiling face, blood spills! Lucky, happy!"<br />
<br />
The story progresses into a mystery/horror subplot, where someone is trying to capture the kappa and kidnap the stupid teens who killed Grandma, and eventually are revealed to be a shady group with a sinister plot to create super soldiers using the Kappa. The movie then morphs into a martial arts action flick as Kanako and the Kappa fight their way through these soldiers and end their nefarious scheme. Then, through a bizarre plot device, the movie changes YET AGAIN.<br />
<br />
The final part of the film is a "Dai Kaijuu" type man-in-a-rubber-suit giant monster movie. For some reason, the Kappa has become a huge Godzilla-type monster, and starts taking down Tokyo. From there, it follows the usual pattern with the military attacking and failing, the arrival of a new monster and a prolonged battle that eventually becomes a pro-wrestling match in rubber monster suits.<br />
<br />
So why do I love this movie? Because it is a quite a successful lampoon of a huge swath of popular movie tropes. We have the pastoral romance of the quiet mountain town and old fashioned values as refuge from the depredations of the big city, destroyed by the intrusion of modernity. We have spy movie/action tropes of secret organizations with sinister plans and the secret powers of our heroes. We have digs at vacuous pop music and over-the-top monster movies and even at horror movie audiences!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpQGCWN_fC2r6T5X0Vw3MZZB7vJnWzqfilo692lyaTxwC-j_3EX5eoGEyGpD3rBKBe3QsZDRnDYupF2QORBLX2VxTLnmE0LmRc6i9NkA2NGxbjshXLLrztrRUz_4tTh0iXdt48aRzlmQy/s1600/deathkappa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpQGCWN_fC2r6T5X0Vw3MZZB7vJnWzqfilo692lyaTxwC-j_3EX5eoGEyGpD3rBKBe3QsZDRnDYupF2QORBLX2VxTLnmE0LmRc6i9NkA2NGxbjshXLLrztrRUz_4tTh0iXdt48aRzlmQy/s320/deathkappa.jpg" width="224" /></a></div>The <br />
<br />
The best part of all, I think, as that this movie was sold and advertised as a straight horror/monster flick, and it is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, a comedy. Not even a black comedy...there is very little of what you'd call "graphic violence" (any fight or death scenes are filmed without any attempts to hide the fact that the victims are dummies) and that video...wow. The reviews are all pretty bad, and I think part of the reason is this marketing. People seemed to go in expecting a traditional Giant Monster movie, and it's not that at all. I watched it entirely by accident, attracted by the name on TV, and sat in open mouthed amazement for the whole thing--no expectations led to pure enjoyment, I reckon. It really is quite clever, and the fact of its existence makes me hopeful for Japan's entertainment future.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-8215270181018978882011-06-23T13:41:00.001+09:002011-06-23T13:50:10.803+09:00True Stories--BerlinThis really happened. I think.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>(Warning: Contains some pretty harsh imagery of war. Read responsibly. I'm serious.) <br />
<br />
It was autumn, I think, or early winter. Cold, but not biting, no snow as such. I was in Berlin for reasons that tuned out to be a pretense for mere aimless wandering, but the pretense allowed me a free public transit pass so I spent a lot of time on the U-Bahn and S-Bahn, spinning around the city and watching the city's slow motion fall into bankruptcy and despair.<br />
<br />
As I said, it was autumn, I think, or early winter. I had had a Kebab lunch, and was nursing a bottle of the cheapest beer I could find (which, in Berlin in the early 2000's, was pretty darned cheap), and I made my way down into the Friedrichstrasse U-Bahn station. It was a weekday, around noon, so the crowd was mostly business people on long European lunch breaks. I leaned against a concrete bolster, enjoying the feeling of the city around me, and I noticed him coming.<br />
<br />
He was older, probably in his 60s. His clothes were shabby but showed signs of care, and his empty left sleeve was rolled up and pinned just above where his elbow would have been. He was walking down the rows of waiting passengers with a cup, bold and unashamed of his begging. The passengers mostly ignored him, but a few euro coins did make their way into that cup. As he approached, I fished in my pocket and found a 2 Euro piece. As I dropped it in his cup I said some little phrase, good luck or the like, and he stopped.<br />
<br />
"You're not German." he said.<br />
<br />
"Ummm...no. I'm not." I said. I was hesitant to say I was American, it was not a popular time to be one in Europe, what with two recent invasions under our belt and a particularly un-European President at the helm.<br />
<br />
"You American?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.<br />
<br />
"Yes...is that ok?" I was getting a little nervous.<br />
<br />
He stuck the cup under the stump of his left arm and dug into it. "I don't take your money." he said, this time in heavily accented English.<br />
<br />
"What? Why? I'm sorry..." I said. This was a first for me, and I was completely unsure what was going on.<br />
<br />
"Listen, I tell you something," he said, pushing a 2 Euro coin at me. "I'm German, but I'm Polish. You understand? I'm from Breslau."<br />
<br />
I understood a little. Breslau was the German name of what is now the Polish city of Wrocław. It was the site of a particularly hard fight on the Eastern Front, and one of the last defenses between the Soviet army and Berlin. After the war, and the division of Germany among the Eastern and Western powers, Breslau was given to the Soviets who made it part of Poland, expelling the German residents and relocating them to the DDR.<br />
<br />
"I born there," he continued. "My father there, my mother there. In the war, I was a little boy. We fought the Russians." at the word, he spit down at the railroad tracks. "Three months we fought. And we knew we lose, you know? No way to win. But we hated the Russians. They animals. Animals. So finally, we pray. Every day. We pray. You know why we pray? We pray to God in heaven that the Americans come and take our city before the Russians take our city. Because they animals."<br />
<br />
I stood and stared, unsure how to react.<br />
<br />
"But the Americans didn't come. And the bastards in the army, they give up. Give us to the Russians." His face was starting to darken, now. His right hand trembled, the coins clinking in his cup. He fell into German again. "The damned Russians. They had won, but still they killed us. They shot the men, the older boys. They raped the women. My mother, they raped my mother and my sister. I tried to stop the men who attacked them, but I was a boy. They laughed at me. They did this," he waved the stump of his arm at me. "They broke my arm, shattered it with the butt of a gun. The doctors had to take it off."<br />
<br />
Tears started to run down his face then, and his eyes didn't even seem to see me. He was just talking to himself now, I thought, but I listened. I couldn't not listen.<br />
<br />
"They did terrible things, I saw such terrible things. So many people, murdered. Not dying in battle, murdered in the streets. Women, children. Babies! They took babies and crushed their skulls, and they laughed!"<br />
<br />
He stopped speaking. I think he couldn't speak, actually, his throat worked and his breath was loud and gasping. Finally he looked up at me, seeing me instead of the horrors inside his own head.<br />
<br />
"Why didn't the Americans come? I wish they had come. The Americans weren't animals." he said. And he turned and walked away.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-77790000379710262322011-04-27T23:23:00.000+09:002011-04-27T23:23:55.378+09:00Westward HoLast weekend we took another trek across the island of Honshu to the Sanin coast.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I loved this drive. We went through the mountains, stopping at scenic outlooks and enjoying the quiet, the wind in the trees and the streams wending through valleys and around boulders, and not the sound of a car for 20 or 30 minutes. It's lovely.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1-VNy5VZiTFtg-PYc2Xpobwjv9N0JxgOlhImxkWJOAIw3W1UjVqEjAA2gHNXlk2XwvMBp0i4zt9ehe_slsx_o2C7wVgdxVMm54ajjrDIQaGn1rdHxoQ6XqpORwNM3STqHcQ407e7qg8E/s1600/Mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1-VNy5VZiTFtg-PYc2Xpobwjv9N0JxgOlhImxkWJOAIw3W1UjVqEjAA2gHNXlk2XwvMBp0i4zt9ehe_slsx_o2C7wVgdxVMm54ajjrDIQaGn1rdHxoQ6XqpORwNM3STqHcQ407e7qg8E/s320/Mountain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsktP2cPKpnxbyYwoJmTNh9FPacoMiq4pDrFZPJube7hg2KU_6PXoyHGwHjB_woICQ_PCRW7ezYZuCLpp5912LQCtWFXTyoUSFoCsFmEKSI_GxnEvQ4BuONUjf5bExXJGH9Gy_s5HChU_/s1600/Lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsktP2cPKpnxbyYwoJmTNh9FPacoMiq4pDrFZPJube7hg2KU_6PXoyHGwHjB_woICQ_PCRW7ezYZuCLpp5912LQCtWFXTyoUSFoCsFmEKSI_GxnEvQ4BuONUjf5bExXJGH9Gy_s5HChU_/s320/Lake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Even more wonderfully, it's like going a month back in time when you get up into the mountains: the weather is cool and brisk, and the cherry blossoms are just breaking into bloom and painting the riversides pink and white.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SdWdfiV5PNoyajtGoD1-rxIdmOPt65X_jkFQpe5_yTVi62Abnbjrmmi2Q-j5YlEh6kA-Vdlpmz6d-56fkeo0vOfqcf62wrzdv85h_XcQUfpZlMteqmfSizzZ-AJW8U05THs1JNEXctAQ/s1600/Sakura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SdWdfiV5PNoyajtGoD1-rxIdmOPt65X_jkFQpe5_yTVi62Abnbjrmmi2Q-j5YlEh6kA-Vdlpmz6d-56fkeo0vOfqcf62wrzdv85h_XcQUfpZlMteqmfSizzZ-AJW8U05THs1JNEXctAQ/s320/Sakura.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzy3YhPw9pW6cpYjVPs3V9-IODef2vgYWjE97BSROucoZvmwWh-r2dZ1FMBeCKNHnPBrj4tbCcdGXXCvyUUgPSTWJmjOmxjCiui3NO6lS_SE6RTKb4a0RxF1koaa766Z8fpa3u_yt22PA/s1600/Nichinan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzy3YhPw9pW6cpYjVPs3V9-IODef2vgYWjE97BSROucoZvmwWh-r2dZ1FMBeCKNHnPBrj4tbCcdGXXCvyUUgPSTWJmjOmxjCiui3NO6lS_SE6RTKb4a0RxF1koaa766Z8fpa3u_yt22PA/s320/Nichinan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Joyous.<br />
<br />
The end of this particular trip took us to Tottori prefecture, to a town called Sakai Minato. My wife's little brother is at the Japanese Self Defense Force Airforce base there, and we went to see his workplace and meet some of his colleagues. He's not got a glamorous job like pilot, he's a supply clerk, but he still plays an important role, and indeed he was deployed recently to help provide humanitarian aid and open supply lines in the Earthquake and Tsunami zones in Northeastern Japan.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6W5XZ5TsVOExLih9YGaRtTKlSk7Z1a0NVmIPtC3Oy2Rtl4DbzUyvzEZP8vbfP6kGmgj6N6juK_x_mhTy3XO_GMSY0I_OyO_tGbHYBaebHX-TdOTjHwT8NhpL-3sfW6qXQWfZJFLGlIiS/s1600/ME+and+Masaru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6W5XZ5TsVOExLih9YGaRtTKlSk7Z1a0NVmIPtC3Oy2Rtl4DbzUyvzEZP8vbfP6kGmgj6N6juK_x_mhTy3XO_GMSY0I_OyO_tGbHYBaebHX-TdOTjHwT8NhpL-3sfW6qXQWfZJFLGlIiS/s320/ME+and+Masaru.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
So we're proud of him, and it was a real pleasure to see what he's been doing--and getting to tour a big <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kawasaki_C-1">C-1 cargo plane</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIdWyM6E3jiMZdOo180lYR7nLU16fmcKWsswX_bsuVpNLyyA1YAo7jvhsXUcaxDZcoX8KI5SQMNp-ykWRvRQypJHk3yLS3r_gm9af_zTnXnWoXJ5fq7cvUvyENm2usrk3xxmslCef_o2o/s1600/Top+Gun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIdWyM6E3jiMZdOo180lYR7nLU16fmcKWsswX_bsuVpNLyyA1YAo7jvhsXUcaxDZcoX8KI5SQMNp-ykWRvRQypJHk3yLS3r_gm9af_zTnXnWoXJ5fq7cvUvyENm2usrk3xxmslCef_o2o/s320/Top+Gun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbs7pJEp9c9i3WHt-DYTu39HDUq4zsQMmZ7vMATOcBly9M9KHQZ9BaNnbNf28Ark8kGBhyphenhyphenlEwP__B9Ee7ItAttmrrHLvUzKuMFJTLL-Nn3tO6G8T63JTNhyphenhyphenTFzWTSezitkOJQOf90ejN0/s1600/cockpit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbs7pJEp9c9i3WHt-DYTu39HDUq4zsQMmZ7vMATOcBly9M9KHQZ9BaNnbNf28Ark8kGBhyphenhyphenlEwP__B9Ee7ItAttmrrHLvUzKuMFJTLL-Nn3tO6G8T63JTNhyphenhyphenTFzWTSezitkOJQOf90ejN0/s320/cockpit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Afterward, we went to a local famous landmark--Mizuki Shigeru Road. Mizuki Shigeru is a rather famous man in Japan, he's a Manga artist who created an enormously popular series, GeGeGe no Kitarou. His art style is interesting, and he's got an amazing knowledge of Japanese monsters, spirits and beasties--Yokai. His stories are populated with them, and his hometown of Minato Sakai eventually decided to honor him by renaming a street after him, and installing statues of his most famous characters all along the street.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrgPpd1xx-sN5C7_I-fj5U0xOYGnL91WdEt7DxcfUMMy0M8NgYjI0aZwkirdOchdXRwlB9RY_tWzj5wU3McTVLVjvwpZ721XmkjmctX6VilVMID-59qegaEfQgRABcA0M4oejFY8h16HM/s1600/drummer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrgPpd1xx-sN5C7_I-fj5U0xOYGnL91WdEt7DxcfUMMy0M8NgYjI0aZwkirdOchdXRwlB9RY_tWzj5wU3McTVLVjvwpZ721XmkjmctX6VilVMID-59qegaEfQgRABcA0M4oejFY8h16HM/s320/drummer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQVVrlR1TjnB63S6GtWj5obpsUhFfdoAlid70ehjYQRI-v9zdN1uXIha6dMlZqVQPpgh_DJOj6L7VPQF-zlh3XUAJttfs6EHBOlXIeNEv9UcgAz0BazIHIFksqEgPwIg-Bz8f_99bWIhf/s1600/Dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQVVrlR1TjnB63S6GtWj5obpsUhFfdoAlid70ehjYQRI-v9zdN1uXIha6dMlZqVQPpgh_DJOj6L7VPQF-zlh3XUAJttfs6EHBOlXIeNEv9UcgAz0BazIHIFksqEgPwIg-Bz8f_99bWIhf/s320/Dragon.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The wife is a huge fan of his, so we had to go see--and it was actually a lot of fun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtWUbW88ueBuDYxscs53oFOQAKtOuktYniXb1gwAObGNVXHjjZSkrGNG4hIB2UlLhbrV50pT_W9p74fg0UZdnmZTDp3oxVV0rEWa9an3OYEQtRO1kyDq3khY5d6tjMZciEqkBQAUu5Wr1/s1600/Soba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtWUbW88ueBuDYxscs53oFOQAKtOuktYniXb1gwAObGNVXHjjZSkrGNG4hIB2UlLhbrV50pT_W9p74fg0UZdnmZTDp3oxVV0rEWa9an3OYEQtRO1kyDq3khY5d6tjMZciEqkBQAUu5Wr1/s320/Soba.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>On the way home, we stopped off to get some locally famous hand-made soba, which was incredibly good, and slowly picked our way back across the mountains to the sunny, noisy Sanyo coast.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's a great country to live in.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-20566168365505501752011-04-13T15:07:00.000+09:002011-04-13T15:07:55.067+09:00Brother, Can you Spare Five Cents a Word?I've been writing things for a long time.<br />
Anyone know how I can get some money out of it?<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I've got a good job, my wife and I make enough to live pretty darned comfortably, but every once in a while I think--the time I put into (sometimes sporadically) maintaining three blogs, writing articles for someone else's SF blog and making guides to honing and using straight razors, all for free <i>just might</i> be time I could use to make a little money...but still do the same thing.<br />
<br />
I guess I should look into freelance writing work, but honestly--what kind of market would I be looking at? Who publishes stories about living in small-town Japan, or using traditional techniques to sharpen straight razors, or all the other random things I write about?<br />
<br />
<br />
If anyone knows, I'm all ears. Or eyes, I guess, as you'd be posting the info here. But anyway, I think I should look into this freelance writing thing, my personal spending could really benefit from it.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-62029839141073752011-03-15T23:01:00.004+09:002011-03-15T23:25:42.671+09:00How About Some Perspective?I'm so angry at so many people right now.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />I'm not going to get into it in detail, but it seems like this disaster (every disaster?) is increasingly becoming an opportunity for every scaremonger with a political agenda to come out of their holes and exploit everyone's natural fear for their own ends.<br /><br />Right now, it's the reactors. The reactor situation in Fukushima is undoubtedly bad. It could become really, REALLY bad. But it is not at all the world-damaging Chernobyl disaster that all the anti-nuclear freaks say it is. Nor, however, is it the simple, peaceful, nothing-to-worry-about-here cakewalk that the pro-nuclear freaks say it is. People are going to have serious problems because of this. Some people may get sick, some might die, people are certainly going to lose their homes. <br /><br />But there is no harmful radiation in Tokyo, no nuclear fallout spreading across the globe. The radiation levels at the gate to the power plant (.4mSv) are less than a 4th of the natural background radiation you would get living in Denver for a year (1.8mSv).<br /><br />Not a place you want to take a nap, not, but for 99% of us it's NOT DANGEROUS. Right now. The brave men and women trying to fix this are, of course, in another situation, and my heart and thoughts go out to them. But for most of us, there is no danger at all.<br /><br />Does that mean we shouldn't be watching? Of course not. The situation could get worse. But that is always the case, isn't it? So watch, take precautions, but for pete's sake...Don't let the idiot media and the agenda-filled grandstanders cloud your judgment.<br /><br />But the worst part? The really really bad part? All the time they spend telling you how awful the reactor situation is is time taken away from the true problem in Japan. At least 10,000 people, men, women, children. Gone. Some never to be recovered, to be given their final rest where their families can tend to their graves. <br /><br />Thousands more...Millions? Homeless, with nothing at all to their names now. Homes, cars, jobs, everything--gone. NOW.<br /><br />So let the technicians and the emergency workers take care of the completely unmeasurable risk of radiation coming from Fukushima. Because tonight, in Miyagi, it's going to snow. There aren't any more stocked grocery stores. There's no electricity to heat, no water to drink, no food to eat.<br /><br />What sounds like the bigger problem to you?<br /><br /><a href="https://american.redcross.org/site/Donation2?idb=0&5052.donation=form1&df_id=5052">Did I mention you can donate to the Red Cross</a> and help those people?<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-52620693660714695402011-03-13T19:26:00.006+09:002011-03-13T20:52:30.322+09:00Some Peace Among The MadnessI had to take a day off from the "Cry every time I pass a TV" routine I've been in since Friday afternoon, so that's what the wife and I did.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />I know that while people in the north of Japan are still suffering, are still searching desperately for their loved ones and mourning their dead (a list which has surpassed 10,000 souls), it is pure selfishness to want to stop thinking about it. I, who have the luxury of being able to do just that, should not. But sometimes people are selfish. I know I certainly am.<br /><br />Indeed, apart from cash donations (Have you? Can you? Please do, if you can: <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_newsroom/20110311/wl_yblog_newsroom/japan-earthquake-and-tsunami-how-to-help">How To Help</a>.) I don't really know what at all I can do. My tears and my frustration certainly aren't helping anyone, so I figure it's about time to stop that. I guess it's thin justification, but that's all I've got.<br /><br />And so today, my wife and I got out of the house into the warm March sunshine, and enjoyed as much of our time together as we could.<br /><br />We left our home in Hikari and drove toward the center of Yamaguchi prefecture, to a place called Akiyoshidai. The side of Japan on which we live, the one facing the Pacific, is known as the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San%27y%C5%8D_region">Sanyo Coast</a>", and is the more heavily populated and industrialized side of Japan. The other side is called the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San%27in_region">Sanin Coast</a>" and is cleaner, quieter and more relaxed. The two coasts are separated by the mountains that make up the majority of Honshu's landmass.<br /><br />Driving into these mountains from the factory-filled Sanyo coast is a joy. The bamboo and pine covered slopes rise gently, and hide little villages lining streams and rivers running clean and clear. On a day like today, with not a cloud in the sky and the winter chill all but gone, they were perfect.<br /><br />The drive was about 2 hours, as we made it intentionally long. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akiyoshidai_Quasi-National_Park">Akiyoshi </a>is a famous place here in Yamaguchi. It's a small town, surrounded by unusual mineralogical formations. There are three large, rather lovely caves in the area, as well as our desination today: Akiyoshidai.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkgqKuem-bIzaW6ja9TSw-5K6ZsIsXeU-1ffruK1XezcbxR40pAO2U9mhIuWOrMCo9IGiiQZSd7guIrY-ii8ueUhowbH-HGzW1CDqdRqxiUzeDoeuTNSjqVtsk5XjOuAW_nSwHL5rMUN4/s1600/Vista+trees.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkgqKuem-bIzaW6ja9TSw-5K6ZsIsXeU-1ffruK1XezcbxR40pAO2U9mhIuWOrMCo9IGiiQZSd7guIrY-ii8ueUhowbH-HGzW1CDqdRqxiUzeDoeuTNSjqVtsk5XjOuAW_nSwHL5rMUN4/s320/Vista+trees.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583512876983134370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ohmyGELMMgp_E5NNFKVU1zHck0n41owKdszxrqrqe1C9ACoUyOopoV5HsQb4XnN74oQWIdkH24NQpTpXH-kq_kDrGODLASl-tLlhHNyIvxXQoKfY_ZgUxA379-5jwkI8543iHpi0btep/s1600/Vista+2+Shadow.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ohmyGELMMgp_E5NNFKVU1zHck0n41owKdszxrqrqe1C9ACoUyOopoV5HsQb4XnN74oQWIdkH24NQpTpXH-kq_kDrGODLASl-tLlhHNyIvxXQoKfY_ZgUxA379-5jwkI8543iHpi0btep/s320/Vista+2+Shadow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583512873273430802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Akiyoshidai is a valley, or series of hills, or a mountain...I'm not really sure. But it's covered with these rather striking rock outcroppings called "karst". Apparently they're rare, these huge chunks of stone emerging from the soil like this. I'm not sure that they are enough of a draw to become a real tourist attraction, but apparently enough people come to warrant a small gift shop and restaurant.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9eb_uG17HsfPkKNeoqy1nOn3q3qwi0nXfi3Qxzst9bL6uXzcMV1agQZB5GeUJEKirVlwS_IpL93tyJfDKiVfMfbe2n6CTr7U_HAd3BRuR8DmkQ5C897xElKfSEsx8kfEsCZKDhBqcqae/s1600/People+2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9eb_uG17HsfPkKNeoqy1nOn3q3qwi0nXfi3Qxzst9bL6uXzcMV1agQZB5GeUJEKirVlwS_IpL93tyJfDKiVfMfbe2n6CTr7U_HAd3BRuR8DmkQ5C897xElKfSEsx8kfEsCZKDhBqcqae/s320/People+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583513474277380898" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjk5kzzsmYzvE2zcrZvrb3hF4NTKqu-u0vrcthrNzWFiTGn_-Japh-sffy_fRh4kczR2xpVGBZkVl8B3qKElgz2-qWRA7zD4OjHobast8R7Zg3FljoRE4mlhrHNzU6g7sGxPF6oOchPktd/s1600/People.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjk5kzzsmYzvE2zcrZvrb3hF4NTKqu-u0vrcthrNzWFiTGn_-Japh-sffy_fRh4kczR2xpVGBZkVl8B3qKElgz2-qWRA7zD4OjHobast8R7Zg3FljoRE4mlhrHNzU6g7sGxPF6oOchPktd/s320/People.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583513476107075938" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And people were there. We weren't the only ones who felt the need to get out and away from the constant rush of pain coming through the wires. Here they are, laughing and taking pictures and eating soft-serve. They way it's supposed to be.<br /><br />And here I get the real story about today.<br /><br />One of the main activities, simple as it is, at Akiyoshidai, is eating Summer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikan">Mikan </a>Soft-serve. Summer Mikan is a type of small orange, similar to a Clementine or Mandarin, that is particularly famous in Yamaguchi. And Akiyoshi, being a Yamaguchi landmark, makes a big deal out of this by pushing the Soft Serve Ice Cream they make with it. So we decided to get some, just to fit in.<br /><br />There are two shops selling Yamaguchi Summer Mikan Soft-serve at Akiyoshidai. One is right on the way in, and is marked by a mannequin in a China dress. We passed this one because the line was very long--it's right in the entrance, and everyone has to pass by it so it gets all the foot traffic. The other is further up the hill, attached to the restaurant and a little out of the way. This place had a shorter line, and we got our Ice Cream there. I got the Mikan, of course, but my wife got Strawberry--her reasoning was, there's no reason for us to get the same flavor, we can share.<br /><br />So we got our ice cream, and made our way back toward the car. On the way, we decided to sit in the sun and eat, so we stopped at a nice warm bench. We didn't pay attention, however, to the fact that we were right in front of the other Ice Cream shop.<br /><br />The crowd had dispersed, and as we sat eating, the little old woman manning the counter (well into her 70s, I think) called out to my wife and motioned her over. We were both a bit surprised, but when she brought out a small spoon, we thought that she was just offering one to my wife. So she went over, and then another gesture beckoned me over as well.<br /><br />When my wife reached the counter, instead of offering her the spoon the woman held out a hand for her cone and started gently berating her. "What are you eating? Strawberry!? This is Akiyoshi! You have to eat Mikan!" And taking my wife's cone, replaced the half-eaten strawberry with a big dab of Mikan ice cream. Then she took my cone. "Oh, this is terrible. You shouldn't buy this crap, here let me..." And taking the spoon from before, she scooped out most of my ice cream and refilled the cone with her own Mikan soft serve.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://wikitravel.org/upload/shared//thumb/9/9d/Mandarin_Orange_Soft_Ice_Cream.jpg/449px-Mandarin_Orange_Soft_Ice_Cream.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 449px; height: 599px;" src="http://wikitravel.org/upload/shared//thumb/9/9d/Mandarin_Orange_Soft_Ice_Cream.jpg/449px-Mandarin_Orange_Soft_Ice_Cream.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photo from wikitravel </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://wikitravel.org/ja/%E7%94%BB%E5%83%8F:Mandarin_Orange_Soft_Ice_Cream.jpg">here</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. That's definitely the stuff, that's the cone she uses.)</span></span><br /><br />"That place up there, it's terrible. They just add flavoring to the vanilla to make their Mikan and Strawberry. We make it all from scratch, and use real fruit. Even our vanilla is better!" With that, she took my wife's cone again. "Here, try the vanilla." she said, and topped my wife's cone with said vanilla, making a triple cone of strawberry remnants, mikan and vanilla. When we tried to pay her, she waved us off and said "What? No, no, if you try to pay I'll just get angry. I want you to have the good stuff!" So in lieu of payment, we thanked her and asked to shake her hand--a big thing in Japan. She laughed, embarrassed, and said "Oh no, not this wrinkled old thing!" My wife shook her head and said "Your hand is beautiful" and we shook it.<br /><br />Bowing and thanking her again, we backed away.<br /><br />As we took our leave, another crowd of people had gathered behind us, and we overheard one young woman saying "Oh, I want a triple like her!" We rushed away before we were forced to explain our mistake.<br /><br />In the car, we finally ate our new Ice Cream. And you know what? That old woman was right...Of course, the line wasn't just because of the foot traffic. Hers was so much better, with fresh fruity flavors and rich, natural vanilla. <br /><br />And, of course, the kindness with which it was given made it all the sweeter.<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-57058291370324809302011-03-11T17:51:00.002+09:002011-03-12T09:03:48.693+09:00Earthquake **UPDATE**Now that things have gotten a little calmer, I just want to update.<br /><br />We here in Yamaguchi are TOTALLY SAFE. Our friends and family are all accounted for, and there wasn't even a shake here, so please don't worry.<br /><br />If you would like to do something for all the families who have lost so much, I would encourage you to give to the <a href="http://www.redcross.org/en/">Red Cross</a>.<br /><br />Other than that, all we can do is hope that the worst is over, and give our support to those who are really in need of it.<br /><br />Take care of each other.JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-43240711582824895042011-03-06T21:42:00.018+09:002011-03-07T21:45:25.301+09:00A Sake Is BornLast weekend we had the good luck to get a tour of a local sake brewery, on a day when it's normally closed, because of an acquaintance.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />I've not been a big fan of Sake so far. It's got its own peculiarities, and I'll be honest-I feel like so far, I've not had much good stuff.<br /><br />Until last weekend...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.oboshi.co.jp/kuramoto/yamagata/">Yamagata Sakagura</a> was founded in Shunan city 130 years ago by the great-grandfather of the current owner. That current owner, Toshiro Yamagata, has expanded from just owning a single brewery, to heading a multinational Sake distribution firm with offices in New York, LA, and Korea. But he still found the time to take us through his brewery on his day off...<br /><br />If you want details about the general process of making Sake, you could do worse than visiting the website of the <a href="http://www.japansake.or.jp/sake/english/">Japan Sake Brewer's Association</a>.<br /><br />Our tour followed this chart, basically.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuYPXZPWHukqnjEVHwOCIwCP1YWPbbUJ0nIy5UFMi4DBi52NMH8-7YPYNQKFaPApsWZWS6mUZc2_vfwy9AG0m7y4_Q9zetdMb1oWyGEhhIxCkdCiF3kqGHKzu5IT7kHIK8n11BSpd-cUN/s1600/process_chart1.gif"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuYPXZPWHukqnjEVHwOCIwCP1YWPbbUJ0nIy5UFMi4DBi52NMH8-7YPYNQKFaPApsWZWS6mUZc2_vfwy9AG0m7y4_Q9zetdMb1oWyGEhhIxCkdCiF3kqGHKzu5IT7kHIK8n11BSpd-cUN/s320/process_chart1.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580955578786131170" /></a><br />We started at the beginning, with rice.<br /><br />When sake is made, the rice is first polished. It starts with it's brown, protein rich hull, but it polished down to the white, starchy core. The amount of polishing has a direct effect on the flavor and price of a sake.<br /><br />(From the Japan Sake Brewer's Association Website) <br /><blockquote><span style="font-style:italic;">Ginjoshu-</span>Sake made using white rice which has been milled so that 60% or less of the grain remains. It also contains rice koji and water, and may contain all of these ingredients plus brewing alcohol. It is characterized by a fruity, somewhat floral bouquet and a clear, crisp flavor. If the rice is polished down to 50% or less, the sake is called <span style="font-style:italic;">Dai-ginjoshu</span>.</blockquote><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ECi9AXWciUdAJqF_lzzqeuT5A1vyInUEec__DvJGCxoXh6PRVYBB5aevLEEj7ekWUxgIWUbsyhn-SLmOTaHfIWvGB6WRv4PW05lxfNlFRazT0QzCY51kV1KLHcY2PYGeKu2k2dkJDT60/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ECi9AXWciUdAJqF_lzzqeuT5A1vyInUEec__DvJGCxoXh6PRVYBB5aevLEEj7ekWUxgIWUbsyhn-SLmOTaHfIWvGB6WRv4PW05lxfNlFRazT0QzCY51kV1KLHcY2PYGeKu2k2dkJDT60/s320/IMG_0532.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581311369880376962" /></a><br />Here is an example of the rice. The top row, of course, is unpolished brown rice. The bottom row is polished--Left side is polished 50%, the middle is down to 35%, the right is down to 70%. The middle rice takes 70 hours of polishing to reach its tiny size, and the sake it produces is a light, sweet one with an amazing balance of flavor (to my unsophisticated palate) and is, to me, the most drinkable sake I've ever tried.<br /><br />It's also the priciest. Yamagata's "Moriko Chou-Toku Sen Dai Ginjoshu", Or "Moriko Extra-special Select Dai-Ginjoshu" runs about $30 for a 720ml bottle. But apparently, in the states, it runs about $100.<br /><br />We were treated to this sake, not only freshly tapped from the tank but in its "Genshu" state, meaning that it was undiluted for bottling. Before sake is bottled for selling, it is often cut with water to bring the alcohol level to 14-17%. Before bottling, as Genshu, it's usually 20-22%.<br /><br />It do have a kick, but it is just lovely...and the owner was generous enough to give us bottles of it to take home.<br /><br />So here are some pics of the brewery...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwy5t-3GZrD_lM0sL_pruPL9vcFNtqtO5YAdssUd9GtbdXHWZjccbA_1Fm_z9HHA3ITNhgWYQ0XnwfkUL4Gzh_acGZE75zf3lrl4NaNO5y-Zx3O1SqlCZ6yyNlJt6SvksslXNNC8GeQ8i9/s1600/SANY0003.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwy5t-3GZrD_lM0sL_pruPL9vcFNtqtO5YAdssUd9GtbdXHWZjccbA_1Fm_z9HHA3ITNhgWYQ0XnwfkUL4Gzh_acGZE75zf3lrl4NaNO5y-Zx3O1SqlCZ6yyNlJt6SvksslXNNC8GeQ8i9/s320/SANY0003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581313311448737826" /></a><br />The polished rice, ready for washing and watering.<br /><br />After it's washed, it's steamed soft and then cooled to 40 degrees C, at which point the <span style="font-style:italic;">Koji</span>, a microbe that turns the rice starch into sugar, is added. Then water and yeast, which turns the sugars into alcohol, are added, and in about 24 days you have sake.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxql7T5eapG62i8c7Z8in6SZxkCjySyTJN1DOfyHRUt-9hHdcntwzOJnShIRiLAQLZ-IOVTPlRROmmcebc_eddgJyfbEy_HmJNHcvJke0PTZOhfsm6InrgTWIISi1Pc_903BJgDxbScZ-/s1600/IMG_0516.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxql7T5eapG62i8c7Z8in6SZxkCjySyTJN1DOfyHRUt-9hHdcntwzOJnShIRiLAQLZ-IOVTPlRROmmcebc_eddgJyfbEy_HmJNHcvJke0PTZOhfsm6InrgTWIISi1Pc_903BJgDxbScZ-/s320/IMG_0516.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581314187877439314" /></a><br />This is a tank of starter--rice, <span style="font-style:italic;">Koji</span> and yeast.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2IYxYJBnduX6HHBDnlGTaLQ16hInNyam-5O9oG7pNdgr-ABx0dEa8f6A8BFME0_JiCDYfx9zp2Gz894ic_yuT9H8GbwSLFTtqH_q4EMu-aykVdi8Vsx3YLmDm_shTEgeQPRgAoxy_YIK/s1600/SANY0010.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2IYxYJBnduX6HHBDnlGTaLQ16hInNyam-5O9oG7pNdgr-ABx0dEa8f6A8BFME0_JiCDYfx9zp2Gz894ic_yuT9H8GbwSLFTtqH_q4EMu-aykVdi8Vsx3YLmDm_shTEgeQPRgAoxy_YIK/s320/SANY0010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581314501812088898" /></a><br />These tanks are brewing away, and smell fantastic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PJRAas40o6C5I8EmG-JCfj1ZbSm5FEs_qJ3yVsAxl8wZuAMon-WT-S6EtlmR-SKGX8U7KQB6V3zFa9J835nUdr6g_BAWK_3jyUEr4Yor_7KG9uW7qcz-RTqgXok3paMRwKF6sXeamw_D/s1600/SANY0012.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PJRAas40o6C5I8EmG-JCfj1ZbSm5FEs_qJ3yVsAxl8wZuAMon-WT-S6EtlmR-SKGX8U7KQB6V3zFa9J835nUdr6g_BAWK_3jyUEr4Yor_7KG9uW7qcz-RTqgXok3paMRwKF6sXeamw_D/s320/SANY0012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581314671541146258" /></a><br />We were allowed to taste sake in process, this one was about 18 days in. The alcohol content was about 14%. It was a sweet, full flavor, with lots of rice flavor and a touch of carbonation. Quite drinkable, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq50KeIU6kFnsIn6kXXMrGzmDCFFktM4rJPzUxVazVvOCov0pxc4K9Wt5zwauAB5B3Yw7O0jjqMiA8Yx2-oUyONzBr1mFcxdpm97715MkWBc9GljD2zDHcyLwXIOpBD7CG_V3PxilZyFSJ/s1600/SANY0013.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq50KeIU6kFnsIn6kXXMrGzmDCFFktM4rJPzUxVazVvOCov0pxc4K9Wt5zwauAB5B3Yw7O0jjqMiA8Yx2-oUyONzBr1mFcxdpm97715MkWBc9GljD2zDHcyLwXIOpBD7CG_V3PxilZyFSJ/s320/SANY0013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581315151525770866" /></a><br />After fermentation is done, the sake is pumped to this big filter press, where the rice solids, or lees, are filtered and pressed.<br /><br /><br />The lees make a foodstuff called "Pressed Sake Cake" or <span style="font-style:italic;">Kasu</span>. This is used in soups or to make a sweet, very low-alcohol festival drink called Amazake. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-jpKsDp4VXVofpQ8XwEAnViVj7YqXb5y8FpYQVZlAPR1zmatQhS2K1POdlj1NfE7oIA9AY3xpl2lVXZ5NEM_TJjsRvvreDfDOJPum2vJdaPBKci32wD6jbD6mBDSIpSWEOHC7CtSMChF/s1600/IMG_0527.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-jpKsDp4VXVofpQ8XwEAnViVj7YqXb5y8FpYQVZlAPR1zmatQhS2K1POdlj1NfE7oIA9AY3xpl2lVXZ5NEM_TJjsRvvreDfDOJPum2vJdaPBKci32wD6jbD6mBDSIpSWEOHC7CtSMChF/s320/IMG_0527.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581315820927074322" /></a><br />Soft <span style="font-style:italic;">kasu</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTtmMw4oS290DyGyowhGuuLz6do-zOiUSLN18IqXY-TZnk0McClM0eO8J7gDioU6jYS5uo3A7X0iASQULjlyORodJb4gRjewhqMy_gtT7SlRwT4gat38lHuM72SqpDbKPiSBSr-vrWSuaT/s1600/IMG_0528.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTtmMw4oS290DyGyowhGuuLz6do-zOiUSLN18IqXY-TZnk0McClM0eO8J7gDioU6jYS5uo3A7X0iASQULjlyORodJb4gRjewhqMy_gtT7SlRwT4gat38lHuM72SqpDbKPiSBSr-vrWSuaT/s320/IMG_0528.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581315959673260114" /></a><br />Hard <span style="font-style:italic;">kasu</span>. It tasted about like you would expect--starchy and slightly sweet, with some alcohol bite. Not bad at all...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVDUFhmbLbySHn5YvL-r7tZeydFkwTYJNyEjoFYGO-mJ1oivlbVUPsMxur-abZZYEmRmlfdz_o9jW7MgRaKjx5Q1XkQxaUGwUy0CpvLS1lbQySuoOBz8bB29If5sI9dID9tFgumcZ7UpL/s1600/SANY0014.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVDUFhmbLbySHn5YvL-r7tZeydFkwTYJNyEjoFYGO-mJ1oivlbVUPsMxur-abZZYEmRmlfdz_o9jW7MgRaKjx5Q1XkQxaUGwUy0CpvLS1lbQySuoOBz8bB29If5sI9dID9tFgumcZ7UpL/s320/SANY0014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581316559360931650" /></a><br />After pressing, the sake is lightly filtered again, and then pasteurized at low heat (about 60 C) to kill any bacteria that might spoil the sake.<br /><br />Then it's stored for a few days to settle down a bit, and bottled.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0L52LNMbFLoIFgOjV3LCELrxquYfbAo0b1rg9gdK9mzULuIVPo_BFC-HVfy0eBOoTuLMakyWriscYTFXPWDWRLB0jfBz9BlhZ8hLHDqpTf6so03Xogw7iEYvudfMMsGl6BLcvv5e3I2Sv/s1600/SANY0017.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0L52LNMbFLoIFgOjV3LCELrxquYfbAo0b1rg9gdK9mzULuIVPo_BFC-HVfy0eBOoTuLMakyWriscYTFXPWDWRLB0jfBz9BlhZ8hLHDqpTf6so03Xogw7iEYvudfMMsGl6BLcvv5e3I2Sv/s320/SANY0017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581316792475253986" /></a><br />These tanks hold 46,000 liters, or about 15,000 gallons. There were ten of them, but not all were full.<br /><br />It was, in all, a heck of a tour, and the owner was so friendly and enjoyable to talk to that I almost want to go back next weekend.<br /><br />The free sake didn't hurt, either.<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-37537353719118694552011-03-02T22:20:00.007+09:002011-03-03T19:41:33.589+09:00Lies They Told Me About JapanIt ain't what they said it was.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />I did a lot of research before I came to Japan, both to avoid culture shock (I had some serious problems adjusting to life in Germany the first time I went) and out of pure old curiosity. I wanted to know what I was getting into, you see.<br /><br />I learned all kinds of things. For example, I learned that the Japanese are <a href="http://www.resentment.eu/blunted_affect_en.html">unemotional</a>, lacking in affection and indeed, there was no word for the Western concept of "love" in the language (I swear this is true--one of my first Japanese language learning books included this bit of wisdom).<br /><br />I learned that Japan was a land of <a href="http://legacy.earlham.edu/~consense/scott2.shtml">ineffable subtlety</a> and that communication in Japanese is an exercise in unspoken cues, creating an almost telepathic effect. That the language is obscure and almost impenetrable to outsiders because of its intense level of "contextualization."<br /><br />I learned, basically, that Japan is as alien a place to Americans as Mars would be.<br /><br />It was all crap, of course.<br /><br />The first thing I noticed when I got here was how...normal..everything seemed. Oh, to be sure, there are real differences between American/European cultures, the most familiar to me, and Japanese. Food and manners, customs and clothes are indeed not the same.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ruh0TJJopn8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />(This video will teach you everything you need to know about Japan...)<br /><br />But...I didn't see any mystical displays of "Japanese-only" communication, at least no more than I saw at home between people vying for seats at a cafe. People were smiling and laughing, sharing food and talking animatedly in the streets and in the shopping malls. Sure, the buses and trains are quiet--but that's a matter of manners, more than anything.<br /><br />In conversation, people looked me in the eye--unless they were intimidated by me, the big loud foreigner who didn't speak their language. But they laughed at my clumsy jokes, and appreciated my attempts at manners. There was none of the dull, robotic lack of emotion I had been led to expect. (Indeed, a student of mine recently told me "They keep saying on TV that Japanese people don't look at each other when they speak...but I don't think it's true." He's Japanese. And he's right. They say stuff like that on TV here all the time, looking at each other when they say it.)<br /><br />Nor was the language as alien as I had been told. The writing system is a trial, absolutely, the three different character sets require work, and Kanji require IMMENSE effort. But these weird rules, the vague grammar and unclear sentences, the mysterious lack of subjects, and all the little things that supposedly make Japanese an impossible language for blunt Americans--not there. It's a language, with relationships with context and social norms indeed, but nothing at all difficult, even for we unsubtle Americans.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RL1Vcn8yX1g" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />On the contrary, I have found that communication in Japanese is often overly detailed, direct and lacking in any kind of vagueness. Sure, once you've said "Taro has a big car." 太郎が大きい車を持っている。You don't don't have to say "The car is a Honda," all you have to say "Is Honda." ホンダです。 But what kind of idiot wouldn't understand that in the second sentence, we're talking about a car, not Taro? A BIG idiot, that's what kind.<br /><br />But in many cases, every conceivable detail is laid out as clearly as possible, ostensibly to avoid confusion.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pqZcEwHBAk8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />(This is all very important in the case of apologies, of course)<br /><br />Whenever you start to speak publicly, you begin by saying 発表します (Happyou shimasu). "I announce." Whenever you end a report or email, you end by writing 以上です。(Ijyou desu.) "The end." You ALWAYS write that, otherwise it's not finished. Japanese is full of declarative sentences telling people what you are about to do, or what you have just done...which, of course, they should already know.<br /><br /><a href="http://pixelstained.blogspot.com/2010/06/bad-translation-makes-kittens-sad.html">I've already talked about books</a> in Japan which suffer from this over-explanation malady.<br /><br />My favorite example comes from movies--when Western movies are shown on TV here, as soon as a character appears in a movie, a caption appears giving the character's name and the name of the actor portraying it...even if the character hasn't been introduced in the story yet. So when watching <span style="font-style: italic;">Transformers</span>, as soon as that yellow car shows up, a little caption appears saying "Bumblebee." None of the characters in the story knew that information, but whoever was putting these on TV felt that the audience really needed to know it as soon as possible.<br /><br />It's direct, clear and without room for miscommunication.<br /><br />So where did this come from, this idea that Japanese people communicate through mysterious ESP powers? My theory is this.<br /><br />For many years, the vast majority of communication between Japanese and Americans/Westerners was in a formal context, business negotiations or the like. IN a formal context, emotional expression and the like are, in fact, rare in Japan. It's a formal atmosphere, and thus a quiet one. This may have led to the "emotionless" stereotype. When Japanese people listen in a meeting, they may in fact close their eyes, or look down at their desk, instead of at the speaker--as a sign of respect, showing "I'm listening with my ears, not my eyes." Thus, there's not a lot of eye contact. And in business meetings, the Japanese side has already made its decisions and everyone is already in agreement--because of a habit called "nemawashi."<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nemawashi">"Nemawashi"</a> literally means "digging around the root of a tree" but in practical terms, what this means is that before a business meeting, the various members discuss the points of the meeting privately, face to face, building consensus through personal contact. The actual meeting is therefore just a performance, a public demonstration of the privately fixed conversations--so to an outsider, it seems as if all the members magically understand each other, without even talking. Roles are set, so that an underling knows what to say when his boss nods at him, or when he cocks an eyebrow he knows he should stop speaking...he's been prepared.<br /><br />So there is no mystery, just preparation, timing, and context.<br /><br />It turns out, of course, that Japanese people are JUST PEOPLE. They aren't magical alien beings. They aren't soulless automatons. Just people, with all the failings and weaknesses, and occasional bouts of generosity and warmth, that other people are prone to.<br /><br />Funny how that works, innit?<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-19914858367720941612011-02-11T21:06:00.001+09:002011-02-11T21:07:48.541+09:00A New Project, and A New StoryI'm a writer in the sense that I write stuff. I have to. I just...do. <br /><span class="fullpost"><br />I don't do it for money or for recognition, it's just the way I express myself. But of course, it's always more fun when people read what you write, and a little extra cash never hurt anyone. I've submitted stories to magazines, but I keep getting rejections--not bad ones, actually, they've always been "Your story is good but it's not quite right for our magazine" or something of the sort.<br /><br />So I figured hey-why not go out on my own? If I can get a few people reading, it'll be fun and I won't have to fear rejection so much.<br /><br />So I've started to post previews of my stories on a special blog I keep reserved for things in my life that don't revolve around steel and stones. And for those who want to read more, I've put up a "Pay what you can" PayPal button, where you can buy the whole story for whatever you think is fair. If you don't think it's worth money, then I'd be happy to send it for free.<br /><br />So take a look at my first story, an epic fantasy short called <a href="http://pixelstained.blogspot.com/p/fantasy-story-dueling-ground.html">Dueling Ground</a>. Spread it around, tell people who might like fantasy, and if you like the story then I wouldn't mind if you kicked a buck or two into the bucket.<br /><br />Thanks!</span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-83716370919370162952011-01-09T22:53:00.016+09:002011-01-10T00:32:27.077+09:00Christmas Vacation (Part 1--Picture heavy)Me and the wife went to Bali.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />The wife decided she wanted to try a Bali spa, and the price for the trip was right so we went. We spent 5 days, and one day in Singapore. It was fantastic.<br /><br />We got a whole Villa, with a private pool and a maid (MAID!).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfFZ-K8xFJep5iWySNDWPI1yUp4M8e844pvFrXg2r7_3Ilw4DJ0s9m51g1uM6mUFCg46du93jXH0Sz0cIjdULzGWULRlFZzRjtOJq31eFxEJd6TinfNDwZEilWEKsBoqYvX_mMVJVbkoW/s1600/Room.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfFZ-K8xFJep5iWySNDWPI1yUp4M8e844pvFrXg2r7_3Ilw4DJ0s9m51g1uM6mUFCg46du93jXH0Sz0cIjdULzGWULRlFZzRjtOJq31eFxEJd6TinfNDwZEilWEKsBoqYvX_mMVJVbkoW/s320/Room.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560187623663683650" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZraEnO3N2tkA7YNz9iaSEGuTqzBtpLG6DT_Qnai2iCD6yDtbNipu4tsY9ApAYxiwDI7xJQj0dUTS8vCs7KfGWGaRzwCV07Q0EathEw2w-HTwiBuD2Rpq_cNzfSYxwW-o_YSv_InjjgIL5/s1600/Pool+Clear.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZraEnO3N2tkA7YNz9iaSEGuTqzBtpLG6DT_Qnai2iCD6yDtbNipu4tsY9ApAYxiwDI7xJQj0dUTS8vCs7KfGWGaRzwCV07Q0EathEw2w-HTwiBuD2Rpq_cNzfSYxwW-o_YSv_InjjgIL5/s320/Pool+Clear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560197422109496274" /></a><br /><br />It was a two bedroom house with marble floors, full kitchen, and geckos.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKYGKVc7orPS0KEt6JPzcCP0ruCEW-P6rI3a1VBo-6Rn4HiDsfKmpFXp7b45Yi96qgw3c2RrL8I8Ch1u2nRkwdgwKhLhQ3xRracrK_17MNDylymrih8zCqb2Ia2MBUhPgUexto4O1lKE6c/s1600/Gecko.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKYGKVc7orPS0KEt6JPzcCP0ruCEW-P6rI3a1VBo-6Rn4HiDsfKmpFXp7b45Yi96qgw3c2RrL8I8Ch1u2nRkwdgwKhLhQ3xRracrK_17MNDylymrih8zCqb2Ia2MBUhPgUexto4O1lKE6c/s320/Gecko.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560197902936830354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGYH9vPNC70dsMQj35RFC2R4dXyeRQWwplVPnKbyQ3hKi03YYaOm0MhLFTXI5EpNvZsQ_ynyhFE0sxDijpzdaa2om5UXc4KxUBXiMZch2ks1qza0VrYxvZ_BOCd634_5miimdVyKvlgCD/s1600/Gecko+tv.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGYH9vPNC70dsMQj35RFC2R4dXyeRQWwplVPnKbyQ3hKi03YYaOm0MhLFTXI5EpNvZsQ_ynyhFE0sxDijpzdaa2om5UXc4KxUBXiMZch2ks1qza0VrYxvZ_BOCd634_5miimdVyKvlgCD/s320/Gecko+tv.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560197898989864242" /></a><br /><br />We saw tons of amazing things. The first day, we hired a guide and a car to take us all over the island.<br /><br />Our guide, named Made Buddha Dharma but called Bud-chan, was fluent in Japanese; tourism is the #1 industry in Bali, and the Japanese are the biggest market.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE789O6bF2-3qeJZChG0WAdDM72bu368AEAqMaFzFn2iRa2tPGYCztG4OVpGIZev231zjTOfoSEL-4K1Q6Y5ju-DVKacycUfmxMzWSE69ojCSi6ZQtsmsuuU4EuqQkP5umV36A7xIIbtsu/s1600/Terraces.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE789O6bF2-3qeJZChG0WAdDM72bu368AEAqMaFzFn2iRa2tPGYCztG4OVpGIZev231zjTOfoSEL-4K1Q6Y5ju-DVKacycUfmxMzWSE69ojCSi6ZQtsmsuuU4EuqQkP5umV36A7xIIbtsu/s320/Terraces.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560198553278341090" /></a><br /><br /> Bud-chan is showing us some 2000 year old terraced rice fields. Off camera, some adorable little girls are trying to sell my wife postcards and pencils. It's lucky they targeted T, because I would not have been able to say no. ADORABLE they were.<br /><br />They also spoke Japanese.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WR8WaqL-gt0korfHxAa_3QNdbJx3cR7FvM8ItEgWHm5nagw75zGcIIqw71dA_3ezBpshAjM5WE5PRrL7JhLMlNQkdc2OgEwL3rScg49UaI4JmDbm6i9qriqbhPdlYfcTMQtp9AprO9_S/s1600/View.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WR8WaqL-gt0korfHxAa_3QNdbJx3cR7FvM8ItEgWHm5nagw75zGcIIqw71dA_3ezBpshAjM5WE5PRrL7JhLMlNQkdc2OgEwL3rScg49UaI4JmDbm6i9qriqbhPdlYfcTMQtp9AprO9_S/s320/View.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560198551101431938" /></a><br /><br />We had lunch at this buffet restaurant overlooking a volcanic valley. To the right is Lake Batur, which wraps around Mt. Batur, Bali's most active volcano. It was too cloudy to get a good view, but still a stunning overlook for a so-so lunch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CZqxmo27Qi8Nlwq4dtXKYowK2bxlYby9DqDGl9Kv_PAv9VyKV1NJfznXJkJht7dTigJpoy0oxxLRCg5oSQ4d5-L0t8SYXcGo8yk0m_ORAU44TiR6X3UO0td256Q3GMEBqL1bjd3HcM-A/s1600/Coffee.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CZqxmo27Qi8Nlwq4dtXKYowK2bxlYby9DqDGl9Kv_PAv9VyKV1NJfznXJkJht7dTigJpoy0oxxLRCg5oSQ4d5-L0t8SYXcGo8yk0m_ORAU44TiR6X3UO0td256Q3GMEBqL1bjd3HcM-A/s320/Coffee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560198551468244114" /></a> <br /><br />In the same region as Batur, known as Kintamani, we went to a Coffee and Cocoa plantation where we tried fresh roasted and ground coffee and natural cocoa, as well as got terrified by a pair of enormous, and very relaxed, Flying Foxes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqEw2-B3Q6il3tmjdVtB-p4IDH8_dKPWVTix727JsnKaMOuAZvzFeOFEz0UTNyL5u-7p9ELY95pJIqGr3pjH7zPFM80vEt0Dq4NQrdigjy8PaiMt2f5omF2VqSSd-SwYsG8MJgwv9UL3u/s1600/FlyingFox.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqEw2-B3Q6il3tmjdVtB-p4IDH8_dKPWVTix727JsnKaMOuAZvzFeOFEz0UTNyL5u-7p9ELY95pJIqGr3pjH7zPFM80vEt0Dq4NQrdigjy8PaiMt2f5omF2VqSSd-SwYsG8MJgwv9UL3u/s320/FlyingFox.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560203137150382674" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ki8EyJksdwyLhAKizZlIHtbwGvpC6VaDBTF6LXvP8xsgfZnmOWFpSCNzh5r26NzZ2SepiZebL3JNA_M0FnQOpjaeu9x6hmi4tTzJYt76u3zLAlfD3vWGVzYyyiIKDDaoc2iCP-5SkEX/s1600/Coffee+process.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ki8EyJksdwyLhAKizZlIHtbwGvpC6VaDBTF6LXvP8xsgfZnmOWFpSCNzh5r26NzZ2SepiZebL3JNA_M0FnQOpjaeu9x6hmi4tTzJYt76u3zLAlfD3vWGVzYyyiIKDDaoc2iCP-5SkEX/s320/Coffee+process.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560203133684634578" /></a><br /><br />The Balinese drink their coffee in a different way: they grind the beans to a very fine powder, then put the powder directly in a cup, add hot water, and drink it all. The powder makes coffee instantly, but doesn't dissolve--you're left with a thick "mud" of coffee powder at the bottom of your cup, which is quite potent. I love it, my wife not so much.<br /><br />As we drank we looked over this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6836Ov3C1o_i6AfI5DaHaL0gMEkEZ4LmMMmeKK0sp1ddcgxjDhjtruLoS2DW3aZNj1B9-6DizEwJNVEuc0LJvhCK_tc28_HrveJyMkyKxtV78rXpRBuFlDIAYzOb9hQbGFnX2rLyd0Upm/s1600/Coffee+Drink.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6836Ov3C1o_i6AfI5DaHaL0gMEkEZ4LmMMmeKK0sp1ddcgxjDhjtruLoS2DW3aZNj1B9-6DizEwJNVEuc0LJvhCK_tc28_HrveJyMkyKxtV78rXpRBuFlDIAYzOb9hQbGFnX2rLyd0Upm/s320/Coffee+Drink.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560203677740220226" /></a><br /><br />Not bad.<br /><br />They also make the famous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kopi_Luwak">"Kopi Luwak"</a>, or "Civet Cat Coffee" in Bali. Here's the cat, or "Lowak", in question:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TRIuhkyCtzpAs4Ph2sR58rZVqNWdJmViMDJNMKG3G4R5ork9GHqs47uCOyD4q7lZk3Fn9AvmVuyd8ObCRHeapk11N1nPt8rX6wD55_QsGy3QvN4DZpzPcu76Faw5jecCJ_dYuwcMxsDz/s1600/IMG_0908.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TRIuhkyCtzpAs4Ph2sR58rZVqNWdJmViMDJNMKG3G4R5ork9GHqs47uCOyD4q7lZk3Fn9AvmVuyd8ObCRHeapk11N1nPt8rX6wD55_QsGy3QvN4DZpzPcu76Faw5jecCJ_dYuwcMxsDz/s320/IMG_0908.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560204300244651074" /></a><br /><br />Pretty cute! But not, perhaps, cute enough to warrant the drinking of it's feces...(Yes, I tried it. It was a very mellow, rich coffee. Excellent, but not worth the exorbitant price, in my opinion.)<br /><br />One of the things that really struck me about Bali was the statuary. It's everywhere. Every conceivable surface hosts an intricately carved statue--houses, shops, and of course temples are all covered in carvings. The stone carving business is a huge one, too...the statues are all made of a very very soft stone, so they wear away quickly in the tropical Bali weather.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UG2HoriJlC8bD1qi-_b3XGE45ko8ZoldFikIovC8IpxPRM4Fui_CEIHff_LG3Gvg7aAETh5DEU8BQf9CLjyG9PE5gnbni2Lp7-8B8OBG4hVp1au3n5c6k2AAtNFq5i70z5STgjet_Y4o/s1600/Temple+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UG2HoriJlC8bD1qi-_b3XGE45ko8ZoldFikIovC8IpxPRM4Fui_CEIHff_LG3Gvg7aAETh5DEU8BQf9CLjyG9PE5gnbni2Lp7-8B8OBG4hVp1au3n5c6k2AAtNFq5i70z5STgjet_Y4o/s320/Temple+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560206076208521666" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUX4J6SS3-7Vo_Zd9czz_-DG81Z5yeC_4n295alrfmgH5IM9LhIqP7tM_92EumO6GElAYdKiykEUevgvpprNgquglDxM2LCN_0AefNwWVdNFAzsHLE-YXgwbp3t0iuRYFd5i2OJ-HsZ2fy/s1600/Stoneork.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUX4J6SS3-7Vo_Zd9czz_-DG81Z5yeC_4n295alrfmgH5IM9LhIqP7tM_92EumO6GElAYdKiykEUevgvpprNgquglDxM2LCN_0AefNwWVdNFAzsHLE-YXgwbp3t0iuRYFd5i2OJ-HsZ2fy/s320/Stoneork.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560206074246850898" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E-bJb03nR_ES0xKmeF2Ch52Yselw6z6AYJ8gP5QzUhg-Ac9ip7KVzXpSfhKSm1BpGbht3XF2J8SaSg54NDPmrjGbFgFUNG0PuVi_0rQbmaTfnDuMedKFqc5qTbcjKqCUknQP6BbWsBKP/s1600/Statue.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2E-bJb03nR_ES0xKmeF2Ch52Yselw6z6AYJ8gP5QzUhg-Ac9ip7KVzXpSfhKSm1BpGbht3XF2J8SaSg54NDPmrjGbFgFUNG0PuVi_0rQbmaTfnDuMedKFqc5qTbcjKqCUknQP6BbWsBKP/s320/Statue.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560206073591043314" /></a><br /><br />Bali is 95% Hindu, and the population is very devout. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxao98Z4jelkUsbZlOvI-xT3KSs_qSeLSWqCYxa0AGPH-eWNAkSwBkllCZKXakyV-mY1Ywa2qnZ0iWl4fOYV9aCXx54DQ3lalpaDraLCnlcvGqpX89HKt0nytykUVSROoO4C1dN8kNhjC/s1600/Offerings.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxao98Z4jelkUsbZlOvI-xT3KSs_qSeLSWqCYxa0AGPH-eWNAkSwBkllCZKXakyV-mY1Ywa2qnZ0iWl4fOYV9aCXx54DQ3lalpaDraLCnlcvGqpX89HKt0nytykUVSROoO4C1dN8kNhjC/s320/Offerings.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560206556059241666" /></a><br /><br />Offerings like these baskets are made 3 times a day, and placed in front of Holy statues and doors...so they are everywhere, all the time.<br /><br />Bud-chan took us to a famous Temple, Tampak Sirta, where there are holy springs filling pools where worshippers bathe and pray. We were there for a holy day, so the pools were filled with worshippers. It was an amazing site, people lined up in the blue waters floating with flowers, the smell of incense in the air. I felt a real intruder, but Bud-chan insisted it was fine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLveZct64CCalFC3qoR5lOV0uZxhsV_aERmtcd_4Otg48TwAASc6iVbMbqaKUubTqkvV0Zl-h-ZpWF6GpQK7z8rVeDN3iySevcqjmp012UvlNaqufCroO-9IBAgzUbSeZc0NplcNRHd9v/s1600/Springs.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLveZct64CCalFC3qoR5lOV0uZxhsV_aERmtcd_4Otg48TwAASc6iVbMbqaKUubTqkvV0Zl-h-ZpWF6GpQK7z8rVeDN3iySevcqjmp012UvlNaqufCroO-9IBAgzUbSeZc0NplcNRHd9v/s320/Springs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560207454961713234" /></a><br /><br />These are the springs, the water is fed from here to the pools below.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgzot8QJT_mIkmJzPvEeZ8zpzSpyhZgm4wdggHwAk3mx-mvZhVUYPjDUSIDywUGPsRyiAU41WPiNpCZfzf2XNVg-UM3WD1oukth0VpDewObqLCx_V0xOWiWe6Gm9Qk7Sph0S-z81vvP-x/s1600/Tirta+1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgzot8QJT_mIkmJzPvEeZ8zpzSpyhZgm4wdggHwAk3mx-mvZhVUYPjDUSIDywUGPsRyiAU41WPiNpCZfzf2XNVg-UM3WD1oukth0VpDewObqLCx_V0xOWiWe6Gm9Qk7Sph0S-z81vvP-x/s320/Tirta+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560208480906927730" /></a><br />Outside the temple.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1APZG4RJltrN6IoxYOZcJ37Jp8mkFKeJXzbltj4ZT_2ntfdHVS5MX5Dpepkk-I8bbRm0JFPE-xy12nLj4yhJvMNZxz7Nqf1p3mzekYIbWVti2JfLSbVhi9hkjrlzfp-v4sVUOBfMmYkm/s1600/Tirta+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1APZG4RJltrN6IoxYOZcJ37Jp8mkFKeJXzbltj4ZT_2ntfdHVS5MX5Dpepkk-I8bbRm0JFPE-xy12nLj4yhJvMNZxz7Nqf1p3mzekYIbWVti2JfLSbVhi9hkjrlzfp-v4sVUOBfMmYkm/s320/Tirta+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560208477040950146" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsEOeEZJOI1cvkMzyCkbQqkTNRMEnwKwSCZs-zAOh38vQpbyBUnzHlwgIp_2ORtMdtv0DspvjGZWbIsyqUBmCAeFPNNjpOV2T_zbFpN3lznj6-M4QhwwAEgDy2J7NRkh-7ql4m2zff7wL/s1600/Tirta+3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsEOeEZJOI1cvkMzyCkbQqkTNRMEnwKwSCZs-zAOh38vQpbyBUnzHlwgIp_2ORtMdtv0DspvjGZWbIsyqUBmCAeFPNNjpOV2T_zbFpN3lznj6-M4QhwwAEgDy2J7NRkh-7ql4m2zff7wL/s320/Tirta+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560208473032651714" /></a><br /><br />Bud-chan insisted we get into this prayer group. I was quite embarrassed. T decided to join in (she's not crazy about her face on the internet, so I whited it out). I'm wearing a sarong because shorts are not allowed in the temple.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a4aUQSuK3ZUxwkgfVRePGuOmkTnEB7cRMgqtc9mmAWV296L15oe3IOn2U7BYoRUWPqBrn-k6aYJ9GvJsZZeizgIMxfSrZzEEa8ZtuzH7PZ2hW6emFOjqbuR6pcGPakPjwwif48vPoJE6/s1600/Tirta+4.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a4aUQSuK3ZUxwkgfVRePGuOmkTnEB7cRMgqtc9mmAWV296L15oe3IOn2U7BYoRUWPqBrn-k6aYJ9GvJsZZeizgIMxfSrZzEEa8ZtuzH7PZ2hW6emFOjqbuR6pcGPakPjwwif48vPoJE6/s320/Tirta+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560208474233672850" /></a><br /><br />All in all, a very impressive trip.<br /><br />And only our first day!<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-4819030984621053262010-11-29T21:18:00.017+09:002010-11-29T21:47:48.603+09:00Matsuyama, Ehime Prefecture...(Pic heavy)Last week my wife and I took a day trip to the next island over, Shikoku, and visited the main city in Ehime prefecture, Matsuyama. It was LOVELY.<br /><span class="fullpost"><br />We hopped the ferry out of Yanai, Yamaguchi-ken, and man was I excited. The weather was perfect, the ocean smooth and the ride so much fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2RVoVcaOH8O1kACotqem_OKtRqyjj_jN-BRMoEQqCo0UDCb32ull90c5Lo4YxJvPfL6jUWTXNxt0OzmwmwCYvQwcDpAF0ADsqNftkg7GFgYvLU808dJURaeFW1bd0VC-CB_aiW6z7NrZ/s1600/Departure.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2RVoVcaOH8O1kACotqem_OKtRqyjj_jN-BRMoEQqCo0UDCb32ull90c5Lo4YxJvPfL6jUWTXNxt0OzmwmwCYvQwcDpAF0ADsqNftkg7GFgYvLU808dJURaeFW1bd0VC-CB_aiW6z7NrZ/s320/Departure.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544945694204899570" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm on a boat, M**********R, don't you ever forget!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVL3AYzCh6NBKNhmfc9MHq1SYko6LdWMwDwrrGFWYC1GdDEtVkt20hhEsmBIUKijlm1L4CSmw9Eg6gp72u8W-EyctYjsN15w9mVOwMU33fLTDfIaI86Vo-U6Rp6Xp9FsnTghXatPJ4PMNL/s1600/Islands.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVL3AYzCh6NBKNhmfc9MHq1SYko6LdWMwDwrrGFWYC1GdDEtVkt20hhEsmBIUKijlm1L4CSmw9Eg6gp72u8W-EyctYjsN15w9mVOwMU33fLTDfIaI86Vo-U6Rp6Xp9FsnTghXatPJ4PMNL/s320/Islands.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544945889828779538" /></a><br />The Seto Inland sea...<br /><br />When we arrived in Matsuyama, we had a fantastic lunch at the ANA hotel then went up to <a href="http://wikimapia.org/14349733/Bansuiso-Villa">Bansuiso</a>, a preserved villa that was built in the 1920's by Hisamatsu Sadakoto, the former lord of Matsuyama castle, after he spent time in France. There is a museum dedicated to his life at the foot of the hill.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78XodLyHGPC9m6XDUB4dqt6gc-5eObXJOjODGcYCHJtJtdl8kIhKiUtyZcXpIsccL3QdqhFme9O1Z0V1K1pd4PnHo88KTPtZO2zman4Fy-CmkIo14zwqSOjl08V9CrUmK_tb0fy8dPBWv/s1600/Bamboo-Museum.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78XodLyHGPC9m6XDUB4dqt6gc-5eObXJOjODGcYCHJtJtdl8kIhKiUtyZcXpIsccL3QdqhFme9O1Z0V1K1pd4PnHo88KTPtZO2zman4Fy-CmkIo14zwqSOjl08V9CrUmK_tb0fy8dPBWv/s320/Bamboo-Museum.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544945271795958466" /></a><br />The Museum peeks through the bamboo, like a cheeky little monkey.<br />That's a haiku, man.<br /><br />Walking up to the villa is a lovely experience.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOt_J0o9E0qFm7_McWeDxmR-iBjPg15q0XyP9GkRPCoHRaiT7ciD2xsqqzXkEIIWQ5mYevCQ4Xe7RnkbHX-bSTkzacn2RVZDx-D8utzah0ORpfL5o4jQQyGmQQiPJH1CAj9Aqxtob5xRM/s1600/Approach.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOt_J0o9E0qFm7_McWeDxmR-iBjPg15q0XyP9GkRPCoHRaiT7ciD2xsqqzXkEIIWQ5mYevCQ4Xe7RnkbHX-bSTkzacn2RVZDx-D8utzah0ORpfL5o4jQQyGmQQiPJH1CAj9Aqxtob5xRM/s320/Approach.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544947002706751362" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHB-jWagINZ13INzOt6u79lDcLsjsG5lEP_mRPB1atH8gXAZ-ONITY85hYxS7hiWOd8AZxXfXWCh_gGPQkJzpnp07v-eGgZmwZsC68dox7AcUCV20dTF6RzqArIx6XdPWrIRqHeOC_tl84/s1600/Bansousui+Peek.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHB-jWagINZ13INzOt6u79lDcLsjsG5lEP_mRPB1atH8gXAZ-ONITY85hYxS7hiWOd8AZxXfXWCh_gGPQkJzpnp07v-eGgZmwZsC68dox7AcUCV20dTF6RzqArIx6XdPWrIRqHeOC_tl84/s320/Bansousui+Peek.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544947145765115954" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yIBoUB3fEpSosHbZSPl40u_DGmZl4ku-wpFwpgX4d3UxPCX_lNM-EO0TxPEaPzy30qgyEGpCNxOY4AsG8AlBQE8Ma2sGG2W7pA6z7aNSpqo_IDFYR2iU1mRtWAD0VsDRAJULHkmyyrTn/s1600/Bansuisou+Full.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yIBoUB3fEpSosHbZSPl40u_DGmZl4ku-wpFwpgX4d3UxPCX_lNM-EO0TxPEaPzy30qgyEGpCNxOY4AsG8AlBQE8Ma2sGG2W7pA6z7aNSpqo_IDFYR2iU1mRtWAD0VsDRAJULHkmyyrTn/s320/Bansuisou+Full.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544947945255843106" /></a><br />Most impressive...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lPggV_1LwjxAvPgljJzaQj0lcY_caL0-PQJtCk2MdgBR1jvrQjucJGCQR9UKk68y3D4vzrNNVfbxzVBqAiOlyFxls64yRBPEaCRGgifEjZVwQyzwjXtofei4YSxFjzLShJWPdNcFYvNd/s1600/bow.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lPggV_1LwjxAvPgljJzaQj0lcY_caL0-PQJtCk2MdgBR1jvrQjucJGCQR9UKk68y3D4vzrNNVfbxzVBqAiOlyFxls64yRBPEaCRGgifEjZVwQyzwjXtofei4YSxFjzLShJWPdNcFYvNd/s320/bow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544948150667784258" /></a><br />His head was held on with duct tape...poor guy. The funny thing is, my wife did the same pose but refuses to let me post her picture...<br /><br />After the villa, we went up to the castle. The caste was up at the top of a mountain, as they tend to be in Japan, and so you can either walk, take the packed cable-car, or take the lift.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3WTn7cGWUYTuZ_j2IMaGFJdcgBb1hW5kFXwT8CQCXr8ksc96sowQQ20bvCIoMpQvk3EZlGo6PZKPNtGmxAqfjE2ow2DOeK-ejU8KVsz2MiCQFyrQEvuQKs6juhCTT57INFH9PsEa-yJ8b/s1600/LIft.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3WTn7cGWUYTuZ_j2IMaGFJdcgBb1hW5kFXwT8CQCXr8ksc96sowQQ20bvCIoMpQvk3EZlGo6PZKPNtGmxAqfjE2ow2DOeK-ejU8KVsz2MiCQFyrQEvuQKs6juhCTT57INFH9PsEa-yJ8b/s320/LIft.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544948720166870706" /></a><br />We took the lift. That's my wife in the middle there, in the beige jacket. it was a lovely, peaceful, incredibly dangerous ride. Not the complete lack of any safety equipment (seatbelts, etc.). When you get on or off, you kind of just jump on, they don't even stop it...<br /><br />The castle was pretty cool. Nice and big and imposing, as it should be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFaI6IZGxqvjm1ho2BFGTs_Z9ankoaCfhPU26RTPgtzKZRTxzNeL1yR3ideFg2ZSLBFZv6_V-0ajgzTwgfc_nwfXpVeYEvW1abdmG25fKOaDl_OuMW4zJcOVU2-NN_OVBtZbNo2mU8Q1F7/s1600/Castle+1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFaI6IZGxqvjm1ho2BFGTs_Z9ankoaCfhPU26RTPgtzKZRTxzNeL1yR3ideFg2ZSLBFZv6_V-0ajgzTwgfc_nwfXpVeYEvW1abdmG25fKOaDl_OuMW4zJcOVU2-NN_OVBtZbNo2mU8Q1F7/s320/Castle+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544949343190767266" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-f_ZaXDbF3sbVggtRZ1L5s7Jl0_x6YVwsEVVYiOaBhwed1T3gKna4gPl8p-dDPQnbHInoLMtS7pFT1H1uGYhM2H9jFi6A1rDpiXsOoi9UQ466L43MdBZ50N1Mxlq_gn6O_Nxy-gDQUWy/s1600/Overlook.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-f_ZaXDbF3sbVggtRZ1L5s7Jl0_x6YVwsEVVYiOaBhwed1T3gKna4gPl8p-dDPQnbHInoLMtS7pFT1H1uGYhM2H9jFi6A1rDpiXsOoi9UQ466L43MdBZ50N1Mxlq_gn6O_Nxy-gDQUWy/s320/Overlook.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544949928181944818" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2LKTE02bpaOkCFUWTp2u0yESAPOCuzTyjLQPzHFcoQMccX4U_0G_xYnfBjya-Dn4Nu7gOKDe91kCnRuSSpbauacmF1NLNH0xZ6NlDDTOkIhDGi0fpB37KYraVEs4rIzd7JjkPhrcToDf/s1600/Gate.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2LKTE02bpaOkCFUWTp2u0yESAPOCuzTyjLQPzHFcoQMccX4U_0G_xYnfBjya-Dn4Nu7gOKDe91kCnRuSSpbauacmF1NLNH0xZ6NlDDTOkIhDGi0fpB37KYraVEs4rIzd7JjkPhrcToDf/s320/Gate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950056918544722" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiq55f4W_1M45udOWsb5ZTVAu-tVxMgZ2QojK8m0ePGEAua8U0UUO9l9ANXho2x2Dnq8fQG1bG49bP4unZ7oUWDTSLjqyWsc5XjzZGYUhunbAiqUkWqmzTEl7e_5UEUZEYkF44Y-_0ty7/s1600/Castle+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiq55f4W_1M45udOWsb5ZTVAu-tVxMgZ2QojK8m0ePGEAua8U0UUO9l9ANXho2x2Dnq8fQG1bG49bP4unZ7oUWDTSLjqyWsc5XjzZGYUhunbAiqUkWqmzTEl7e_5UEUZEYkF44Y-_0ty7/s320/Castle+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950333218181026" /></a><br /><br />Inside the castle were the requisite samurai gear--swords, armor, and the like. My inner 12-year-old was squealing with glee.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qNk6vqlsO_3GTDCMJYHx0qKLtGHqKEdl0Em542JnPE_JO1NAKt3vi0eurPnkDMYODfVgK3JWF2AkYGtlcCZzWKE4-DTMRppeSEbiWGJ08kg_OyKUT1CvcSBkdmoDrLj0t_IDIoUUmhrk/s1600/Katana.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9qNk6vqlsO_3GTDCMJYHx0qKLtGHqKEdl0Em542JnPE_JO1NAKt3vi0eurPnkDMYODfVgK3JWF2AkYGtlcCZzWKE4-DTMRppeSEbiWGJ08kg_OyKUT1CvcSBkdmoDrLj0t_IDIoUUmhrk/s320/Katana.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950730288855762" /></a><br />That's a whole lot of sharp there...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19YUaz3NSzeJaCzb4QsS-ljF21MC8NoKQmSl0SX4ePQsgZ1xixn8InRFt4bvxFEfQ4fR-I-zj5s5uWVZKBNIOB20u22hXo72ckRjr3vySISF_0ulFIctRMlKHjJtl3bQbhCS6BXm8SGRy/s1600/Chainmail.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19YUaz3NSzeJaCzb4QsS-ljF21MC8NoKQmSl0SX4ePQsgZ1xixn8InRFt4bvxFEfQ4fR-I-zj5s5uWVZKBNIOB20u22hXo72ckRjr3vySISF_0ulFIctRMlKHjJtl3bQbhCS6BXm8SGRy/s320/Chainmail.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950715334539554" /></a><br />The first Japanese chain mail shirt I've seen...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqKS-CIGED6690sXtPwd72dqNAiC3QUeG3SvR8wQ46XttmWzH80XVGcf6cpF_0IYHCT6coaNGNIgCowrIjr4UvRadB_WOn2OnQhzvMAHduauxy2HUqhyphenhyphen7bOsr1q_x5sgKFi_1pt_jYG3h/s1600/Armor+2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqKS-CIGED6690sXtPwd72dqNAiC3QUeG3SvR8wQ46XttmWzH80XVGcf6cpF_0IYHCT6coaNGNIgCowrIjr4UvRadB_WOn2OnQhzvMAHduauxy2HUqhyphenhyphen7bOsr1q_x5sgKFi_1pt_jYG3h/s320/Armor+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950711493500274" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMWI74v-qvcnoKGBCZsqXw2sKv2jnytrWOyxjOW-oGRrcxLAiHnOG18lI8u4Tkevzl5FzMJWNR3uh-I-I_xy3typIrEJVICZNR-wW2IgnpyFKzpAxzFRpuZgEOMHbESj9KeNVL4HQAM1F/s1600/Armor.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMWI74v-qvcnoKGBCZsqXw2sKv2jnytrWOyxjOW-oGRrcxLAiHnOG18lI8u4Tkevzl5FzMJWNR3uh-I-I_xy3typIrEJVICZNR-wW2IgnpyFKzpAxzFRpuZgEOMHbESj9KeNVL4HQAM1F/s320/Armor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544950707732372866" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Tdy79zhQqyFr7o1MvFnZmFLk-BcT-H3ZsdjGgTeq3l81sK1rOh2IfJzPw9bsDsxyaDNJpxbrhyphenhyphenh63abzhWL9MmP06Pw7VdGikLmWX6jqK-Dl4b_Qm43nQYLWwbvegTlK5oSwlIsyGemT/s1600/Naginata.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Tdy79zhQqyFr7o1MvFnZmFLk-BcT-H3ZsdjGgTeq3l81sK1rOh2IfJzPw9bsDsxyaDNJpxbrhyphenhyphenh63abzhWL9MmP06Pw7VdGikLmWX6jqK-Dl4b_Qm43nQYLWwbvegTlK5oSwlIsyGemT/s320/Naginata.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544951322251153954" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQcnBRSzFfypTLk2RAsyKmOothU-rEmtrC2LnRhxvry1WoimHZeHVJCxlCjvmX7jdwJHQVzS95t8ATQJgnpJ9kB05WkDE_gtZdpWQQxJupwO1z4khm-ocs6sFtk0o9QGioreGNusiHu00-/s1600/Naginata+Sign.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQcnBRSzFfypTLk2RAsyKmOothU-rEmtrC2LnRhxvry1WoimHZeHVJCxlCjvmX7jdwJHQVzS95t8ATQJgnpJ9kB05WkDE_gtZdpWQQxJupwO1z4khm-ocs6sFtk0o9QGioreGNusiHu00-/s320/Naginata+Sign.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544951444037719330" /></a><br />This was my favorite exhibit.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodknlQ8rqL0jaXYNGBeaU6n0usnoXBt90Wpuy30-P5Pgwg18alut5etA-J1I0NINXkyEEbol9e0ltSLMprRhj-Y0gslLIU3ihTqe5R5TPRiWBuPEpwKUVIgcx1094AWpn6dvzrQWLrH7x/s1600/Murder+Hole.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodknlQ8rqL0jaXYNGBeaU6n0usnoXBt90Wpuy30-P5Pgwg18alut5etA-J1I0NINXkyEEbol9e0ltSLMprRhj-Y0gslLIU3ihTqe5R5TPRiWBuPEpwKUVIgcx1094AWpn6dvzrQWLrH7x/s320/Murder+Hole.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544951602862697474" /></a><br />A murder hole. Know what it was for? Yeah...murdering people.<br /><br />After the castle, we went to a department store to while away the remaining hour until hour ship home, and I met a lovely young carpenter named Shuugei Iyo, who tolerated my passion for sharp shiny things and stones, and told me about some local blacksmiths and a city that used to be a hone mining town, but in later years turned to ceramics. <br /><br />He's a gifted woodworker, check out his <a href="http://iyosyuugei.blog57.fc2.com/">site </a>(Japanese only) if you like that sort of thing.<br /><br />And that was our trip...a heck of a day, and well worth it.</span><br /><br />He's a tJimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4641053661598034689.post-28427184675382860792010-11-23T20:55:00.003+09:002010-11-23T21:16:53.316+09:00Angry Robot Press Releases, Ebooks and meI got another interesting press release from <a href="http://angryrobotbooks.com/">Angry Robot Books</a>.<br /><br />Let's look at it TOGETHER!<br /><span class="fullpost"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZQEmZnLw-quqb5sQXTWyJjd6Mj8VKWVIr6eSGeiZVbvGLGtFXz7JPUbuf63NYoVNxU5nv3-R4frJmHZTUUKfhCbS3uTIX9Yx4CkxrPXHpaK14rB8Zvr8IKNgTQau50lb-hP4UHP0uKyf/s1600/bw_15mm_300dpi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 114px; height: 177px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZQEmZnLw-quqb5sQXTWyJjd6Mj8VKWVIr6eSGeiZVbvGLGtFXz7JPUbuf63NYoVNxU5nv3-R4frJmHZTUUKfhCbS3uTIX9Yx4CkxrPXHpaK14rB8Zvr8IKNgTQau50lb-hP4UHP0uKyf/s320/bw_15mm_300dpi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542717636239651714" /></a><br /><br /><blockquote>PRESS RELEASE<br />22nd November 2010 ~ For Immediate Release<br /><br />ANGRY ROBOT ANNOUNCES DIGITAL SHORT STORY STORE<br /><br />On December 1st 2010, Angry Robot will be launching “Nano Editions”. Exclusive to the publisher’s own webstore at angryrobotstore.com, Nanos are digital short stories by Angry Robot novelists, sold at sensible prices in ePub format, ready to load onto the world’s most popular eBook readers.<br /><br />Most Nanos will be in the 5,000 – 15,000 word range. Shorter works than that will be automatically bundled with another story to ensure value for money.<br /><br />Talking of which – stories will cost just 59p each (approximately US $0.95). Readers can bundle a collection of any 10 by any combination of authors, for only £3.49 (US$5.59). The files will be DRM-free and available worldwide. If demand for the stories takes off, AR plan to also sell them via eBook retailers.<br /><br />Angry Robot Editor Lee Harris said, “Publishing is changing, but our role as publishers remains the same – to find cool stories and bring them to readers. This is another step in Angry Robot’s ongoing plan to embrace the new opportunities digital formats provide – and an excellent way for readers to sample unfamiliar authors, without breaking the bank.”<br /><br />Authors included in the Nanos series include multi-million-selling novelist Dan Abnett and award-winning short fiction authors Kaaron Warren and Aliette de Bodard, along with many others. We will have at least 30 Nanos available for the December 1st launch, with more added at regular intervals.<br /><br />-<br /><br />Lee Harris<br />Editor, Angry Robot</blockquote><br /><br />SO what <a href="http://angryrobotbooks.com/">Angry Robot</a> has done is make a veritable short-story buffet, take what you want but eat all you take...<br /><br />Holy crap, what a great idea.<br /><br />I am an unashamed ebook lover. I am not one of those who say that ebooks are going to kill traditional publishing, but I think that no one would argue with me when I say that they will, indeed already have, caused a sea-change in the print world. The future of individual print companies is going to be determined by how they approach epublishing, and this strikes me as a particularly clever way. I mean, why not do this? What conceivable reason is there to not allow readers to customize their consumption, when the option is sitting right there all filled with ones-and-zeros?<br /><br />I hope this catches on. I hope that this alerts other publishers to the fact that, once books become data, manipulation becomes automatable. You stop needing huge, complicated presses and start need small, complicated algorithms to make books. If you want flexibility, you can build it in. What joy...what freedom and innovation this can lead to.<br /><br />I know this is only one publisher, and only one idea, but I think it actually does mean something bigger--books have changed. The very IDEA of a book is no longer what it used to be. I was listening to an interview with Tracy Hicks discussing his latest venture, and he said something that really resonated with me. Basically, his point was that books aren't stories, books are souvenirs of stories. You can read the story, get the words and images, on any platform. What a book does is remind you of the time you did so; it acts as a physical marker of the time you had a fever, and you sat in your dad's chair in front of the fire and read <span style="font-style:italic;">The Hobbit</span> while your brother and sister were at school (for example). The book, the physical artifact, absorbs those memories, and that's why people love them, and why they won't die.<br /><br />But stories...stories aren't books. They can exist anywhere; they've always been ephemeral. So why can't they be digital? Why can't you carry ten thousand of them in your bag? For people who love stories, the digital revolution in publishing is the best thing since the mimeograph machine. And I applaud Angry Books for taking a step in a damn good direction with this idea.<br /></span>JimRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05242985754713946821noreply@blogger.com0