The Other Side

I offer this photo after realizing the majority of my posts and photos regarding Japan have been based in tradition, festivals, and farming. My life in the country side has made that a major part of my existence recently, and thus I have been thinking more about history than contemporary.

In some ways, Japan is essentially an oximoron. It is tied so deeply to its past, keeping its temples beautiful, continuing old festivals, continuing old beliefs... But on the other side, and what many of us think about when we mention Japan, is a technological power whose restructuring after the war thrust it onto the world stage in ecconomics and technology. And of course, there is gaming. Japan loves gaming. In fact, about half the people in the net cafe I use are not here for e-mail or surfing, but rather for online games.

In 1988 I got my first (and only, actually) game console. A Nintendo that came with Super Mario Brothers. What a rush, playing that for the first time. Never having played a video game before, my arms moved when I wanted Mario to jump. Adrenaline surged when I entered a new stage and saw new enemies. Since then, the major players have been Japanese: Nintendo, Sega, and Sony. And they seem to have games covering all walks of live. I remember thinking a fishing video game was the stupidest thing ever, until...

I saw this game I nearly pissed myself laughing, after the initial shock wore off of course. The idea of making a video game about walking a dog had never crossed my mind, and I suppose this is why I am not a millionairre. I guess in a way it makes sense. Dogs are expensive... they eat, they shit, and chew your furniture. Why have the hassle when you can walk one for a dollar?

I didn't play this game, though I think I will be kicking myself for the rest of my days.

Back to the Roots

Yes'sa, Spring is here in Japan with beautiful days, chilly nights, and the impending blossoming of cherry trees. You may remember I burned bamboo a few posts ago in preparation for the baby shoots. Well went out foraging yesterday.

It's still a about a week early to really get bamboo shoots, but yesterday wasn't for a feast. No, it was to give offering to the god enshrined at my dwelling. First early harvest of any crop goes to the god to ask for a bountiful year. So yesterday I went out with the priest friend of mine to search for these elusive roots. Elusive because it is still a bit early so they aren't really poking through the ground yet, and because of the blanket of old bamboo leaves that cover the grove.

So you kinda walk about in a shuffle step and feel for where the ground is harder than the surrounding area. This probably means there is a root developing underneath. Dig a bit with your finger, then if it's there, dig and hack away with your hoe to pull out these tasty morsels.

This was yesterday's haul. Not a lot, but enough for god, I guess. Looking forward to next week when mortals can partake in the offering.

10 Years

I just came to the realization that I've known you for a decade, and through it all, we seem to always weave in and out of each other's lives. Ten years and a few months ago, we sat in that black room and listened to them tell us about what we would do for the next year: stitching, banging, cutting, Stanislavky-ing (Do you know that for about a month I thought the dude's name was Stan Islavsky?) I think you told me after that you thought I was either scarry, or a dandy. I thought you were straight edge. Regardless, we were both skeptics of "the programme" and left after a year.

I thought you were gone, but you came back. Then I faded out but eventually fell back into the circle with a new generation. And for the next couple years all we could do was reminisce about the past. That kinda made me sad, but I had no idea about what to do about it. Then we went out west and had three wicked weeks and I think that's where I really got to know you. Right after that I left to find where the sun rises.

Four years later we have come in contact again, and it is extremely interesting for me. You are an inspiration for me, partly because we are doing the same things, but more because I see that your drive hasn't faded. With me, learning such a foreign language as this has weakened my creative brain. I think in a grammar that isn't my native one. I think in idioms that don't translate, like "eye drops from the second floor" and "three years on on a motionless rock."

Chances are we'll once again fall out of contact at some point, but I guess if you know someone a third of your life, you can never really be too far away.

Anyway, just wanted to share this with you.

Keep writing. I'll be reading.

Dynomi~te!!!

After almost a year of hearing how good of a film it is, I finally got around to seeing Napoleon Dynamite this week. Fekkin brilliant. Part of the problem was that I knew absolutely nothing about the film, so if I did think about looking for it at the video store, I had no mental image to go on. Combined with the fact that the Japanese title is "Bus Boy" or "Bus Man", I walked past the box many many times. The other night the box caught me again, and I read the back to see that perfect name, Napoleon Dynamite, written in Japanese, and thought "No shit. This is it?"

Doesn't Napoleon bring back memories of all those people we kinda forgot about in high school? Hell, Napoloen may be anyone of us, really. But those kids existed, drawing Ligers in class with awkward dexterity.

This one dude I went to high school with named Lee was kinda Napoleonesque. My buddy Zark bumped into him a few years ago. He designes chain-link bras and other medieval S&M outfits last we heard. I guess chicks do want a guy with skills.

Vote for Pedro!!


This post is dedicated to all the people I went to high school with, all the strange kids, the cool kids, the jocks, and the nerds.

Shrine Days Coming to an End

I rented an apartment today. I move in April 7th.

I wasn't going to rent an apartment today. I was just going to look. But this place has wicked potential, though I haven't actually seen it... just the floor plan and the outside of the building. Feels kinda wierd dropping 2000 bones for a place I haven't seen, but I gotta good sense about it, and I knew it wouldn't be on the market long.

There's a huge open space that is kitchen and living room in one, and I do mean huge (12 jyo, for those who know Japanese room sizing) a smaller room that will be where I lay me head to sleep(4.5 jyo), and a small "storage room" (3 jyo), that since it has a window, I think will be my office if all goes according to plan. All for the rediculously low price of 32 000 yen per month, located a 2 minute walk from the monorail, a 15 minute walk to Karin's house, and a 10 bike ride to work. It has to be the scene of some gangland shooting or something, but I ask no questions.

I said I dropped 2000 bones on it, and I was going to merely state that it is expensive to rent an apartment in Japan in brackets, but I decided to elabourate a bit. There's a foolish practice in Japan dating back to the war called key money. It's a monotary gift to the owner as well as a non-returnable deposit as a way to say thanks for letting me live there.

At one point this practice was a simple supply and demand issue. Places like Tokyo, Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed during the war, and as a result, there was a lack of housing. People had to move out of their bombed buildings or houses and find new places, but there's was a lack. So, if you could get an apartment, you would say thanks in cash. I suspect there was something also dealing with the highest bidder gets the place. But this is outdated and rediculous now. There is no lack of housing, in fact due to the declining birth rate and the fact that more and more people are living with their parents til they are 30 or so, there is an abundance of housing, and it should mean that rent prices should drop, and key money should be done with. But not so in this society.

But I digress. The point being that my days of living with the gods of Shinto are coming to an end, and I am a little sad about that. But I am excited to have a new living space. Drop by if you have the time. And bring me a nice lamp or something^^

People often ask why I prefer to buy mine from abroad or have them sent over... even if they did fit, I just don't think I would trust this dude.

Not Lost. Not Forgotten.

My lover just left my car but she's still here. The pattern of swirls and dots from her cream and black chiffon dress have left their impressions on the soft fabric of my passenger's seat.

A reality perceived that isn't really there; a shadow on the wall of a Platovian cave; closing your eyes after looking at the sun.

Three Shades of Brown

We are primal and libertine.

like bees see
glistening streamers leading to the sweet epicentre
of plain white Darwinian flowers,
we have been attracted down slopes of
bum cheeks
to the great chocolate of
a well washed ass
to rub moist fingertips and tongues
on that beautiful snowflake so hidden from view
and acceptance
no two exactly alike (but do you know that?)
to moan and breathe and let out sweet
giggle-jitters when arching her back
as another hand strokes or probes other sensitive and more
common locations in the night.

"Look at the moon!" said Kundera's Vincent
"It's beautiful," she said
"Like a big asshole in the sky," he said in Slowness

The sweet joy of exploring your lover
knowing not just the small brown mole under her eye
but also the characteristic texture of her left nipple
that can only be hers;
the shade of brown that is her labia
that compliments, but doesn't match completely
the shade of brown that is her nipple
that compliments, but doesn't match completely
the shade of brown that is her anus;
the chocolates of my lover's body;
three shades of brown that could only be put together
by the Van Gogh of creation,
the Gerald Pedros of design.

A Czec entomologist walks by the pool

It has been found!

right, ladies and gents, i have located "ramblin' man", the digitalized writings of yours true dating back to november 2003, which i thought lost at sea, bobbing up and down aimlesly on waves of ones and zeros. i liked that blog a lot better than this for a number of reasons, but my gonzo entries at net cafes make it impossible to use the old software.

give a looksee if ye have the time. some of the photo links no longer work, and i do apologize for that, but at present time, nothing can be done. besides, a word is worth a 1000 photos.

I Burn Bamboo

I know i've mentioned it before, but just to set the scene... i live at a shrine. it's not a particularily old shrine, though it could be. i've never asked. the shrine itself looks quite new, though all the surrounding buildings, including the one i live in, are quite old.

there is a great private cherry orchard up the little path from my place that is part of the shrine grounds, and though the trees are too old now to blossom with the beauty of younger trees, the location has me dreaming that i could have drank under those trees 30 years ago when they must have been at their prime.

just beyond the cherry orchard, and enclosing the shrine grounds on two sides, is a bamboo grove that i like strolling through. at night the sound of the wind through the bamboo reaches my room and goes "wheet wheet wheet" as the amazing strength and flexibility of this amazing plant is tested by god.

in a couple weeks or so baby bamboo shoots will start to pop up through soft earth, which if you don't know, is a tasty treasure that people go hunting for... scavaging for... searching for in groves reminding me of the people that would drive down the dead end dirt road i lived on looking for asparagus. so recently, i've been helping the grounds keeper burn old and fallen trees to help the little shoots grow, and to make searching for them easier. it's a fun and rewarding job that also takes me back to my farm days gathering wood with my dad in the forest.

yesterday's unseasonal snow, however, made it a misserable day, as my hands went from wet, to cold, to rediculously painful, to a numbness that scared me. that was the signal to start the fire, warm up and burn all the trees we had cut up and gathered.

i'm sure there's a wax on mr. miyagi lesson to be learned, but i have yet to find it.

Some things are best left alone...

Right, so first off, let me say that generally speaking, Japan is pretty good about keeping its national treasures in tact, and restoring them in a good way. I mean you're looking at a country that has something like 13 designated World Herritage sites in an area 1/33 the size of Canada.

Beautiful temples are restored using a craftsmanship that is true to the original designers, and the areas remain with their old beauty. Usually this means keeping the old look, using old materials and the like. One interesting exception is Ise Jingu Shrine in Mie, which was about an hour from where I lived. This is one of the oldest and largest shrines in Japan, and it is destroted every 20 years. Why you ask? Well unlike other places, where the idea is to preserve the old look and prove it is a piece of history, the beautiful concept at Ise is that if it looks old, it isn't the same as when people looked at it 1000 years ago. True enough. So every 20 years they tear down the buildings, and using the same materials, and the same design plans, re-build in a symbol of new life, and the preservation of what it was. Looking on the shrine's walls, you see it exactly as people saw it 1000 years ago, with the same colouring, the same smell, the same everything.

Both these concepts (preserving the sense of history, or preserving the visual aspect that it was) are interesting, and I applaud both.

Neither of these are really what is at work in my city. We have a grand library here in Kokura. It's not ancient, in fact it is 1950s architecture, and was built on the site of an old munitions factory which was the second intended target of the nuclear bomb. Cloudy skies meant the Americans flew down to Nagasaki instead. But it had a beautifully greened copper roof that I adored for my three years here.

They have redone the roof (and points for realizing the tarnished copper roof was beautiful) with horrific green shingling. I don't know if I can study there anymore.

It's nice to feel wanted

I've turned down two job offers in the past week, and both times I felt like I was the person hiring them. In a way this is true. I've always felt that the interview process is not one way. The job hunter (and it's interesting we use that choice of words) must feel out what company is best for him/herself as well as a company deciding what person is best for the job.

I like that people want to work with me; feel that I would be an "asset" to the company; make concessions to try and land me. The job I turned down today, when I said last week that I would think about it and weigh my options, added $500 per month to the salary to try and get me to go with them, and if they were in my city, I probably would have accepted their offer. But it would require me to move, and after just spending 5 months in a long distance relationship while I went back to school, I'd really like to be closer than an hour train ride from my lover.

There is more to life than money. There are the times when she sneaks into my apartment at 2 in the morning to crawl into bed with me because she has the spare key and lives close by; there are the times when we can just meet for lunch, there are the times when we can go for a walk in the park or on the beach. That's worth way more than $500 a month.

thanks jack...

so my buddy jack has started blogging, which is a word he hates, but all i can say is it is now well dug into our lexicon, so no use fighting. in the dictionary, if i'm not mistaken.

it seems that everytime i post here recently i say sorry for not posting more often, but the weather is nice, i live at a shrine, and there are better places to be than infront of a computer screen.

so why type now? well i'm not sure exactly, other than jack's blog may have given me the itch again. i must say i miss my old blog, that is floatng somewhere in the zeros and ones of cyber space. 10 points to the reader that can give me my own link.

i'm also currious if i'm off the radar of the spammers. i sorta stopped writing to avoid the russian bride posts. could just turn of the posting option, but that's no fun.

in any event, life is good. i've graduated from a japanese university, i'm unemployed and looking for work in a forein land that has become home, and i live at a shrine with the ghosts of the past that protect me in the night.