Here's this month's posting. Enjoy!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Sorry. Hos before prose, bros.
Hah! Like the subject header? No, this month-long hiatus from blogging hasn't been because I've met some special woman. I just chose the header because of its whimsically delightful internal rhyme scheme. As for why I haven't posted ... well ... a bit of laziness, a bit of business, and a lot of not much to say. I frequently make psychic posts while waiting for and riding on trains, but I just haven't felt like sitting down at the keyboard and putting together a true post for the ole blog.
Until now.
And don't get your hopes up for unending paragraphs of my pristine writing. It's late, I got little to say, and I think I'll let my camera do most of the talking.
On April 3rd I moseyed over to Himeji, a town about 60 minutes from my home that's reputed to have Japan's best castle. These pictures were taken slightly before the Sakura trees were at their fullest blossoming period. (I know, I know ... "Look, Fellas: The first snapdragon of the season!")
Here's some photos of the garden directly adjacent to Himeji castle, taken on the same day.
A few weeks later, I went to Kyoto, about an hour from my home in the other direction. The first stop was Sanjusangendo Temple, a massive shrine that houses 1001 elaborate and semi-identical Kannon Buddhist statues.
I imagine that one question is likely raging through your mind: Sanjusangendo? A massive shrine thirty-three bays in length? Could this location also be known as Rengeoin, the site of the legendary duel in 1604 between the ronin swordsaint Miyamoto Mushashi and Denshichiro Kempo, head of the legendary Yoshioka Kempo School of Swordsmanship?
The answer is yes, and I'm impressed you knew that. Compare the above photograph with this old black & white photograph taken on the day of the duel:
And, just to elevate the general coolness of this blog (as if that were possible), I include another photograph, this one in rudimentary colors, of Musashi, the coolest fucking bastard ever to wander Feudal Japan, and the eventual outcome of his historic duel with Denshichiro:
In the same day, I also went to Kyoto's fantasmonious Kyomizudera Temple. Here's a picture of the view from there.
A few nights before this, I went out with some coworkers to welcome Jordan, my old colleague and new coworker, to her new job at Kaisei. As a general rule, the more eager Japanese people seem in trying to impress you with their culinary creations, the more nauseating the experience turns out to be. Take a gander at this gourmet dish I was politely assaulted with:
In the west, you're supposed to throw catch like this back. But this is Japan. And yes, I ate them both. Here's a photo of me holding one fish's head (which I was able to decapitate by using only the edge of my chopstick):
And then another photo of me, shortly after popping the fish's head into my mouth.
Two observations on eating fish in the traditional, Japanese style: (1) Skull fragments aren't as delicious as you might think; (2) Most Western cultures disembowel fish before eating them because the bowels are where compacted feces is stored, and unless some disreputable porno producer is paying you in ridiculous amounts of pure cocaine, there's no reason for feces of any sort to ever enter your mouth.
And not much else has been going on. I realize I never talked about the whole Hokie-shoot and the following blame game. Guns? Psychotropic meds? Gun-free campuses? Bullying? Lack of psychiatric oversight? Racist culture? The promise of media limelight? Who/what to blame? Well, I blame Cho. He felt inferior to everyone on the planet because he was inferior to everyone else on the planet. Sayonara, douche.
Along similar lines, I'm coming to a general political conclusion:
Liberals hold individuals responsible for nothing, but everyone collectively responsible for everything.
Thus, Cho is seen as a misunderstood and tragically confused martyr living in an oppressive American society and deserving serious post-humous lefty love. (I am alluding specifically to "Poor Cho" shrines set up on Daily Kos.) That such mourning seems strikingly counterintuitive and nonsensical only verifies the general emotional "truthiness" uber-libs perceive in their hearts. As more me, I prefer my brain to analyze questions of truth.
And that's all I have to say about that.
I sometimes worry I've grown too conservative in this past year. My liberal friends all seem to have given up on me, and when left alone to my own devices, I find myself sliding to an easy, natural predilection of political conservatism.
Oh well! Hope no one minds.
2 pieces of Good News before I sign off:
(1) Errol's coming to visit for the two weeks straddling July and August. His spontaneous silly walks ought to go over quite nicely here, and I'm super-stoked.
(2) I'll be following Errol back to the United States for a five-week vacation. Initial plans are to spend three weeks in Colorado and then two in Florida, where I would visit both Mr & Mrs Ryan B and hopefully Matt, Errol, and anyone else able to come out as well. I'm kicking around the idea of putting Florida first and Colorado second, but I haven't decided yet.
1 final observation/rumination:
Ole Pal Zach Thaxton will soon be facing off against fellow High School Alum Adam Atchison in the rough AM ratings war over Colorado Springs. This is interesting: I love Zach, but Adam's story of ascension is compelling in its own right. Where "Thax" was sincerely (and wisely) voted "most likely to succeed", "Atch" was derisively chosen Homecoming King, a designation widely interpreted as sarcastic, bullying, and cruel by the voting public. There were more than a few losers among the boys in the class below us, and I'm thinking specifically of, not Adam, but rather the muscle-headed fartknockers. From my vantage point, Adam seemed socially awkward, largely friendless, and notable mostly for his striking resemblance to Mr. Bean. High School can be rough, especially Heritage, and it's good to see a target like Adam taste professional success.
That said, if the ratings war must turn violent, I wouldn't be disappointed to hear that Zach brutally eliminated the competition with a trident.
OK! Now I lay me down to sleep. I'll try to post again. Sooner rather than later, this time.
Until now.
And don't get your hopes up for unending paragraphs of my pristine writing. It's late, I got little to say, and I think I'll let my camera do most of the talking.
On April 3rd I moseyed over to Himeji, a town about 60 minutes from my home that's reputed to have Japan's best castle. These pictures were taken slightly before the Sakura trees were at their fullest blossoming period. (I know, I know ... "Look, Fellas: The first snapdragon of the season!")
Here's some photos of the garden directly adjacent to Himeji castle, taken on the same day.
A few weeks later, I went to Kyoto, about an hour from my home in the other direction. The first stop was Sanjusangendo Temple, a massive shrine that houses 1001 elaborate and semi-identical Kannon Buddhist statues.
I imagine that one question is likely raging through your mind: Sanjusangendo? A massive shrine thirty-three bays in length? Could this location also be known as Rengeoin, the site of the legendary duel in 1604 between the ronin swordsaint Miyamoto Mushashi and Denshichiro Kempo, head of the legendary Yoshioka Kempo School of Swordsmanship?The answer is yes, and I'm impressed you knew that. Compare the above photograph with this old black & white photograph taken on the day of the duel:
And, just to elevate the general coolness of this blog (as if that were possible), I include another photograph, this one in rudimentary colors, of Musashi, the coolest fucking bastard ever to wander Feudal Japan, and the eventual outcome of his historic duel with Denshichiro:
In the same day, I also went to Kyoto's fantasmonious Kyomizudera Temple. Here's a picture of the view from there.
A few nights before this, I went out with some coworkers to welcome Jordan, my old colleague and new coworker, to her new job at Kaisei. As a general rule, the more eager Japanese people seem in trying to impress you with their culinary creations, the more nauseating the experience turns out to be. Take a gander at this gourmet dish I was politely assaulted with:
In the west, you're supposed to throw catch like this back. But this is Japan. And yes, I ate them both. Here's a photo of me holding one fish's head (which I was able to decapitate by using only the edge of my chopstick):
And then another photo of me, shortly after popping the fish's head into my mouth.
Two observations on eating fish in the traditional, Japanese style: (1) Skull fragments aren't as delicious as you might think; (2) Most Western cultures disembowel fish before eating them because the bowels are where compacted feces is stored, and unless some disreputable porno producer is paying you in ridiculous amounts of pure cocaine, there's no reason for feces of any sort to ever enter your mouth.And not much else has been going on. I realize I never talked about the whole Hokie-shoot and the following blame game. Guns? Psychotropic meds? Gun-free campuses? Bullying? Lack of psychiatric oversight? Racist culture? The promise of media limelight? Who/what to blame? Well, I blame Cho. He felt inferior to everyone on the planet because he was inferior to everyone else on the planet. Sayonara, douche.
Along similar lines, I'm coming to a general political conclusion:
Liberals hold individuals responsible for nothing, but everyone collectively responsible for everything.
Thus, Cho is seen as a misunderstood and tragically confused martyr living in an oppressive American society and deserving serious post-humous lefty love. (I am alluding specifically to "Poor Cho" shrines set up on Daily Kos.) That such mourning seems strikingly counterintuitive and nonsensical only verifies the general emotional "truthiness" uber-libs perceive in their hearts. As more me, I prefer my brain to analyze questions of truth.
And that's all I have to say about that.
I sometimes worry I've grown too conservative in this past year. My liberal friends all seem to have given up on me, and when left alone to my own devices, I find myself sliding to an easy, natural predilection of political conservatism.
Oh well! Hope no one minds.
2 pieces of Good News before I sign off:
(1) Errol's coming to visit for the two weeks straddling July and August. His spontaneous silly walks ought to go over quite nicely here, and I'm super-stoked.
(2) I'll be following Errol back to the United States for a five-week vacation. Initial plans are to spend three weeks in Colorado and then two in Florida, where I would visit both Mr & Mrs Ryan B and hopefully Matt, Errol, and anyone else able to come out as well. I'm kicking around the idea of putting Florida first and Colorado second, but I haven't decided yet.
1 final observation/rumination:
Ole Pal Zach Thaxton will soon be facing off against fellow High School Alum Adam Atchison in the rough AM ratings war over Colorado Springs. This is interesting: I love Zach, but Adam's story of ascension is compelling in its own right. Where "Thax" was sincerely (and wisely) voted "most likely to succeed", "Atch" was derisively chosen Homecoming King, a designation widely interpreted as sarcastic, bullying, and cruel by the voting public. There were more than a few losers among the boys in the class below us, and I'm thinking specifically of, not Adam, but rather the muscle-headed fartknockers. From my vantage point, Adam seemed socially awkward, largely friendless, and notable mostly for his striking resemblance to Mr. Bean. High School can be rough, especially Heritage, and it's good to see a target like Adam taste professional success.
That said, if the ratings war must turn violent, I wouldn't be disappointed to hear that Zach brutally eliminated the competition with a trident.
OK! Now I lay me down to sleep. I'll try to post again. Sooner rather than later, this time.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Who's the nappy-headed ho now?
Hello Blogosphere! It's me! Sorry it's taken me a while to write. As you can imagine, I've been terribly busy, what with the Japanese school year beginning and whatnot. But this year seems quite promising so far.
My friend and colleague, Jordan, has been hired by my college, and I've been getting used to having a friend in my presence again. It's strange how accustomed to solitude I've become. But now I have a buddy to do stuff with. Sometimes, it's a little startling to be talked to on the train, or look up from the table at Jolly Pasta to see someone else sitting there. Overall, it's been quite nice, but the previous year spent alone hasn't done much for my social skills. My cantankerosity seems to have calcified, and the presence of others, although ultimately beneficial, is a difficult adjustment.
Oh well!
In other news, after taking a two-month intensive language course, I'm pleased to say that I'm now fairly communicative in Japanese. Today, at my college's annual kickoff party in a ballroom on the 9th floor of Kobe's super-swanky Crowne Plaza Oriental Hotel, I impressed my colleagues by saying, "Tokidoki, watashi wa hitori de sukoshi monkey-dansu shimasu" (sometimes, when I'm alone, I do a little monkey dance). Then I would waddle around the ballroom waving my hands over my head. The sight of me doing this in my new suit seemed to be a big hit among my Japanese co-workers. Anyway, the gag wouldn't have been possible were it not for the free and plentiful beer. Or my newfound Japanese abilities. Thanks beer and Japanese class!
Let's see ... what else ...
I hear the lovely and talented Anna Nicole Smith has shed her well-endowed coil, and is now snorting blow and ground-up diet pills off the shiny surface of the giant male prostitute's ass in the sky. Good for her! And I also hear the touchy matter of paternity has been settled as well (even without the aid of Montel!). Larry Birkhead, the lucky winner and father of Anna Nicole Smith's insanely rich progeny, compared the favorable results of the paternity test to winning an Oscar. This is why I love to pop in the world of celebrity news now and then: to win an Oscar, you must (theoretically) be a devoted and cinematic talent or at least be popular among the empty-headed and fickle Hollywood elite; but to father Anna Nicole Smith's fabulously wealthy heir, all you need to do is ejaculate in Smith's vagina, and then hope your sperm can successfully duke it out with all the other sperm in there.
Anyway, I realize it's not an Oscar, a Grammy, an Emmy, or even a Tony, but I'd like to award Larry Birkhead the first annual Crepuscular Ray Spermy Award.
The Broncos 2007 schedule is out. The Broncos will play both of last year's superbowl teams ... on the road. Ouch.
Rosie O'Donnell (isn't someone supposed to be stomping on her balls?) thinks 9/11 was a government conspiracy. This, of course, puts her in a select but rapidly growing segment of liberals I think of as the left's embarassingly retarded wing. Personally, I'd be surprised if the Republicans won the presidency again in 2008 (no fresh, viable talent). However, should the retardation of the 9/11 Troof Movement continue to spread across the Democrat party, it will only help the cause of conservatives. Although it's true that most Americans seem to be suffering "buyer's remorse" on the Iraq war (Hitch & I are still hanging tough, BTW, knees locked and unwobbly), the mainstream left is mistaken in assuming that most Americans are ready to have their intelligence insulted by the vapid rantings of braindead hippies. I think the right is far better at ostracizing and separating from the loony nitwits amongst them than the left is from theirs, and, as always, whichever party correctly ascertains and seizes "moderate" territory will win.
And then there's the whole "Don Imus thing," to borrow a phrase from regular Crepuscular Ray comment contributor Z.G. Thaxton, who, coincidentally, often suffers a harsh and rigid censorship that he imposes upon himself. (Just blog anonymously, amigo!) Anyway, Imus' remarks were unwarranted and impolitic. He should've said, "those young women who play for Rutgers ... their hair is distinctive in a racial sense and, based solely on their appearance, I judge their adherence to traditional standards of sexual behavior to be dubious at best." But no, he used the word "nappy" in combination with the two-letter abbreviation of whore, and that's all it took for the left to throw their skirts over their heads and run around shrieking.
I think what really killed him was the incessant apologizing he did afterward. I think one apology would've been appropriate, but apology after apology after apology? Howard Stern's said far stupider shit than that, yet he's never lowered himself to the astounding degree Imus did last week. The repeated apologizing seemed to become the story, and soon Imus started looking real guilty. Then he made the mistake of apologizing in person to Al Sharpton, a Jew-hating, race-baiting, rape-hoaxing, poverty-pimping perennial presidential candidate with (I must admit) an amazingly awesome mane. All Imus had to do was say sorry (once) and then ignore the criticism (the controversy would've blown over without Imus fueling it through bizarre self-abasement), tell the critics to lighten up, or, if all else fails, simply quote those calling for his head.
Here's my favorite Al Sharpton quote:
“White folks was in caves while we was building empires... We taught philosophy and astrology and mathematics before Socrates and them Greek homos ever got around to it.”
Sure, a quote like that is enjoyable and hilarious on many different levels, but it also automatically disqualifies Sharpton as any sort of moral authority and instead establishes him purely as a homophobic, ignorant, and semi-literate superbuffoon.
Anyway ... after much reflection, I've decided that the real loser in the whole "Imus v. Nappy-Headed Hos" is ... well ... Don Imus! Ha! No onse else is really suffering.
OK, I'm sleepy. Goodnight Blogosphere!
My friend and colleague, Jordan, has been hired by my college, and I've been getting used to having a friend in my presence again. It's strange how accustomed to solitude I've become. But now I have a buddy to do stuff with. Sometimes, it's a little startling to be talked to on the train, or look up from the table at Jolly Pasta to see someone else sitting there. Overall, it's been quite nice, but the previous year spent alone hasn't done much for my social skills. My cantankerosity seems to have calcified, and the presence of others, although ultimately beneficial, is a difficult adjustment.
Oh well!
In other news, after taking a two-month intensive language course, I'm pleased to say that I'm now fairly communicative in Japanese. Today, at my college's annual kickoff party in a ballroom on the 9th floor of Kobe's super-swanky Crowne Plaza Oriental Hotel, I impressed my colleagues by saying, "Tokidoki, watashi wa hitori de sukoshi monkey-dansu shimasu" (sometimes, when I'm alone, I do a little monkey dance). Then I would waddle around the ballroom waving my hands over my head. The sight of me doing this in my new suit seemed to be a big hit among my Japanese co-workers. Anyway, the gag wouldn't have been possible were it not for the free and plentiful beer. Or my newfound Japanese abilities. Thanks beer and Japanese class!
Let's see ... what else ...
I hear the lovely and talented Anna Nicole Smith has shed her well-endowed coil, and is now snorting blow and ground-up diet pills off the shiny surface of the giant male prostitute's ass in the sky. Good for her! And I also hear the touchy matter of paternity has been settled as well (even without the aid of Montel!). Larry Birkhead, the lucky winner and father of Anna Nicole Smith's insanely rich progeny, compared the favorable results of the paternity test to winning an Oscar. This is why I love to pop in the world of celebrity news now and then: to win an Oscar, you must (theoretically) be a devoted and cinematic talent or at least be popular among the empty-headed and fickle Hollywood elite; but to father Anna Nicole Smith's fabulously wealthy heir, all you need to do is ejaculate in Smith's vagina, and then hope your sperm can successfully duke it out with all the other sperm in there.
Anyway, I realize it's not an Oscar, a Grammy, an Emmy, or even a Tony, but I'd like to award Larry Birkhead the first annual Crepuscular Ray Spermy Award.
The Broncos 2007 schedule is out. The Broncos will play both of last year's superbowl teams ... on the road. Ouch.
Rosie O'Donnell (isn't someone supposed to be stomping on her balls?) thinks 9/11 was a government conspiracy. This, of course, puts her in a select but rapidly growing segment of liberals I think of as the left's embarassingly retarded wing. Personally, I'd be surprised if the Republicans won the presidency again in 2008 (no fresh, viable talent). However, should the retardation of the 9/11 Troof Movement continue to spread across the Democrat party, it will only help the cause of conservatives. Although it's true that most Americans seem to be suffering "buyer's remorse" on the Iraq war (Hitch & I are still hanging tough, BTW, knees locked and unwobbly), the mainstream left is mistaken in assuming that most Americans are ready to have their intelligence insulted by the vapid rantings of braindead hippies. I think the right is far better at ostracizing and separating from the loony nitwits amongst them than the left is from theirs, and, as always, whichever party correctly ascertains and seizes "moderate" territory will win.
And then there's the whole "Don Imus thing," to borrow a phrase from regular Crepuscular Ray comment contributor Z.G. Thaxton, who, coincidentally, often suffers a harsh and rigid censorship that he imposes upon himself. (Just blog anonymously, amigo!) Anyway, Imus' remarks were unwarranted and impolitic. He should've said, "those young women who play for Rutgers ... their hair is distinctive in a racial sense and, based solely on their appearance, I judge their adherence to traditional standards of sexual behavior to be dubious at best." But no, he used the word "nappy" in combination with the two-letter abbreviation of whore, and that's all it took for the left to throw their skirts over their heads and run around shrieking.
I think what really killed him was the incessant apologizing he did afterward. I think one apology would've been appropriate, but apology after apology after apology? Howard Stern's said far stupider shit than that, yet he's never lowered himself to the astounding degree Imus did last week. The repeated apologizing seemed to become the story, and soon Imus started looking real guilty. Then he made the mistake of apologizing in person to Al Sharpton, a Jew-hating, race-baiting, rape-hoaxing, poverty-pimping perennial presidential candidate with (I must admit) an amazingly awesome mane. All Imus had to do was say sorry (once) and then ignore the criticism (the controversy would've blown over without Imus fueling it through bizarre self-abasement), tell the critics to lighten up, or, if all else fails, simply quote those calling for his head.
Here's my favorite Al Sharpton quote:
“White folks was in caves while we was building empires... We taught philosophy and astrology and mathematics before Socrates and them Greek homos ever got around to it.”
Sure, a quote like that is enjoyable and hilarious on many different levels, but it also automatically disqualifies Sharpton as any sort of moral authority and instead establishes him purely as a homophobic, ignorant, and semi-literate superbuffoon.
Anyway ... after much reflection, I've decided that the real loser in the whole "Imus v. Nappy-Headed Hos" is ... well ... Don Imus! Ha! No onse else is really suffering.
OK, I'm sleepy. Goodnight Blogosphere!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Another video Ryan can't enjoy!
Greetings, all! It has come to my attention, via the comment feature, that not everyone can view my videos, and can I please stop posting them.
Ahem:
NO!
Here's why:
- Ryan brought up my zombie love slave. It's not that I'm embarrassed of her, but I wasn't going to publicly mention our relationship until we had both discussed and agreed on an appropriate time and venue. Now she's pissed that I told a few friends and shows her displeasure via a mixture of the silent treatment and scattered attempts to eat my brains. Thanks, Ryan. Now I'm tempted to post 50 videos out of pure spite.
- Time it takes for me to post a video with short comment: 30 seconds
- Time it takes for me to write and then post a substantive article with lots of pictures and phony bumper-stickers that you can't really buy (sorry, Matt): 15 hours
Like this blog.
So, until I have more time, you'll just have to endure these silly clips between my sporadic yet massive prose bombings. If it takes a week to download a video, I suggest you get started on the "Hobo With A Shotgun" video I posted a few weeks back. Although it got zero comments, several Crepuscular Ray fans have telephoned me and told me how touching it was.
That said, I do, in fact, have a massive, substantive post all written and ready to publish. I originally wrote it to commemorate one year of living in Japan, but then I decided that marking the revolution of the Earth around the sun is a tired and cliched way to observe the passage of time. I won't do it. Next thing you know, I'll be bundling time in multiples of five and ten. Why? Because that's what every other stupid human on this planet does. Five and ten aren't meaningful--they're completely arbitrary. No, my friends, the new post will go up immediately after I've enjoyed my 422nd pain-free bowel movement since the dissipation of my anal fissure, and not a moment before!
Let's see here ... mentioned a zombie love slave, playing video games, masturbation, bowel movements, and an anal fissure in my checkered past. Of course, I was just kidding about all that stuff. Heh heh. Heh.
For instance, I never poop, but even if I did, it wouldn't ever hurt.
Heh.
Enjoy this music video from LCD Soundsystem called "North American Scum." I kind of like it for some reason.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
MC Rove ... the brokest rapper! Sellin' crack after the show, yo.
Delighted to see Freedom of Buffoonery is alive and well in the United States! Yo, check dis shit:
Thursday, March 22, 2007
God, I miss the 80s.
Before the "No Spin Zone" there was "a world of danger, intrigue, and magic." We have some hard-hitting journalism here. Caution!
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