I think that Weezer's "Buddy Holly" is one of the greatest songs ever. Simple, sweet, sincere, and with a rippin' guitar solo to boot! It popped into my head out of the blue while riding my bike to work, and I was singing it out loud as I passed grannies out for a morning stroll and school kids with their bright yellow hats. There's an understated sense of urgency, or desperation, perhaps, that I think isn't necessarily so apparent in the lyrics, but is really brought out in that brief wailing guitar solo that still sends shivers up my spine to this very day.
I feel like expressing your love of Weezer is like saying that you think Barry Bonds is the greatest baseball player of all-time. You know... they would've been the best, if they hadn't gone and mucked things up for themselves halfway down the line.
Sigh...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Consumption pt. 2
You didn't think that consumption only referred to that of pop-culture, did you???
My friend Rob, who also watches a lot of the Wire, was inspired to start eating/drinking raw eggs with his beer by the dockworkers in the program who down a beer and egg together in the 2nd season. The first time that he did this was at the mall next door to my house, in the food court, with an egg that was meant for his beef bowl, and he just ate that one straight from the shell. The 2nd time he did it was with me and our boy Randy outside of a convenience store in Sakae at about 2 or 3 AM, each of us downing two raw eggs straight from the shell. We were soon treated to a show 10 feet away as two drunks started to scuffle.
The cops came to break up the fight, only to let the instigator walk away and give the erstwhile victim a stern talking-to.
The point is that the tradition had spread to more people.
A few weeks back a few of us finally decided to try those eggs in our drinks. The good news is that the drinks kill the taste of the eggs, which would get a -1 on the -3 to +3 via scale, but it is much less conducive to swallow those gooey lumps of egg out of a glass than it is straight from the shell.
Just this last weekend, at that same convenience store, again at 3 in the morning or so, I ran into some other friends out of the blue. I enjoy the fact that I constantly am running into friends, even just acquaintances, everywhere I go these days. Whether I'm riding my bike back to my apartment and it's my neighbors on the way out to dinner, or arriving at the train station at 11 PM only to see my friends waiting there, people I know grabbing a quick pre-made lunch at the supermarket the same night as I am, or people who are pulling another all nighter in Sakae because they've missed the last train, it's super comforting to know that you'll always have someone around the corner waiting for you.
Yesterday, I brought my new best friend, Tiny Boy, back from the hospital.
Tiny Boy was suffering from a bad case of bad intonation, so my dawg down at the Melody Shop hooked a brother up with a free repair job!!! Yes, Tiny Boy is bright pink, and, yes, that is a koala on my pillow case (fabric courtesy of Joa, case courtesy of Yumico). I almost got hit by a car while bringing Tiny Boy home, holding Tiny Boy in one hand and steering my bike with the other. The gangster-looking Brazilian dudes driving probably would've been mad at me for riding in front of them if they hadn't been laughing at some fool with a pink guitar riding by them.
And now some only half-ancient J-pop for your viewing/listening pleasure:
My friend Rob, who also watches a lot of the Wire, was inspired to start eating/drinking raw eggs with his beer by the dockworkers in the program who down a beer and egg together in the 2nd season. The first time that he did this was at the mall next door to my house, in the food court, with an egg that was meant for his beef bowl, and he just ate that one straight from the shell. The 2nd time he did it was with me and our boy Randy outside of a convenience store in Sakae at about 2 or 3 AM, each of us downing two raw eggs straight from the shell. We were soon treated to a show 10 feet away as two drunks started to scuffle.
The cops came to break up the fight, only to let the instigator walk away and give the erstwhile victim a stern talking-to.
The point is that the tradition had spread to more people.
A few weeks back a few of us finally decided to try those eggs in our drinks. The good news is that the drinks kill the taste of the eggs, which would get a -1 on the -3 to +3 via scale, but it is much less conducive to swallow those gooey lumps of egg out of a glass than it is straight from the shell.
Just this last weekend, at that same convenience store, again at 3 in the morning or so, I ran into some other friends out of the blue. I enjoy the fact that I constantly am running into friends, even just acquaintances, everywhere I go these days. Whether I'm riding my bike back to my apartment and it's my neighbors on the way out to dinner, or arriving at the train station at 11 PM only to see my friends waiting there, people I know grabbing a quick pre-made lunch at the supermarket the same night as I am, or people who are pulling another all nighter in Sakae because they've missed the last train, it's super comforting to know that you'll always have someone around the corner waiting for you.
Yesterday, I brought my new best friend, Tiny Boy, back from the hospital.
Tiny Boy was suffering from a bad case of bad intonation, so my dawg down at the Melody Shop hooked a brother up with a free repair job!!! Yes, Tiny Boy is bright pink, and, yes, that is a koala on my pillow case (fabric courtesy of Joa, case courtesy of Yumico). I almost got hit by a car while bringing Tiny Boy home, holding Tiny Boy in one hand and steering my bike with the other. The gangster-looking Brazilian dudes driving probably would've been mad at me for riding in front of them if they hadn't been laughing at some fool with a pink guitar riding by them.
And now some only half-ancient J-pop for your viewing/listening pleasure:
CONSUMPTION pt. 1
I've been reading a lot of books, watching a lot of movies, and watching a lot of the WIRE recently, on top of my aforementioned obsession with old J-pop. I finally felt like it was time for me to write about the things that have been boosting my spirits in recent weeks.
Well, it's strange to start off with this book, since it's not much of a spirit-booster, but I just finished Underground by Haruki Murakami, which is a series of interviews conducted with witnesses and survivors of the sarin gas attacks on the Tokyo commuter trains in 1995. The interviews are broken up into sections that focus on each particular train line that was hit, painting a narrative for each train from many different perspectives. Every narrative shares some similar points, mainly that of a gradual onset of the symptons of poisoning, the symptoms reaching a head, someone finally pinpoints the source of the problem, and then people scramble to try to survive or help the survivors.
One of the most shocking things about the accounts of the day is the apathy, or obliviousness, most people had to what could have been happening to them. Many of the interviewees witnessed other people passing out and such, but continued on about their merry way, off to work or wherever they were going, despite the fact that they were or would soon be falling victim to the same sorts of symptoms that had hit those around them already. Some of the interviewees, who had escaped the trains and train stations and managed to make it out to the streets, or even to work, acted as if these crazy headaches and blurred vision, etc, weren't anything too bad. Some also mentioned how passersby and even the news media reporting on the incident live and onsite failed to offer a helping hand, unless they were specifically badgered or hounded by someone to do so.
One of the survivors mentioned that he/she (I forget which) believed the attacks hurt so many people because Japanese people have a cultural tendency to grin and bear "it", in this case "it" being some unknown ailment suddenly setting upon them, soon to worsen and eventually be revealed as sarin gas poisoning. This same interviewee, who had lived in New York for some time, thought that Americans would be hooting and hollering and getting something done about it as soon as they noticed the strange smell on the train, or the onset of their symptoms. I agreed to a certain extent that some nosy, perpetually irked, sue-happy Americans would've probably disposed of the sarin packages on the trains much sooner than they were in reality, followed by drawing out a draft of their lawsuit against the train company. However, I don't think that the average American passerby would've done any more to help those suffering around them any more than the people did that day, since people everywhere seem to have the same "it ain't my problem" mentality. Additionally, the emergency response system is painted as inept by the desperation and frustration of the interviewees' accounts, but I get the impression that they were doing the best they could in a situation that very few could've expected (unlike, say, Hurricane Katrina).
There's also a small section of the book devoted to interviews with former Aum members, Aum being the cult that perpetrated the attacks, and that section was super interesting as well. The common thread in these accounts for the most part is of people who don't quite fit in or have any particular direction in life suddenly finding a place where they fit in and embracing it wholeheartedly. This led to people allowing themselves to, initially, be separated from their family and earthly possessions, to, later, being forcibly locked in sauna-like jails, secretly experimented upon with LSD, and given amnesia-inducing electro-shock therapy. Most of the people interviewed in this section had renounced Aum as an organization and the cult's leader as the divine guru after the attacks occurred, but all still appreciated their time in the cult, all having claimed to have seriously experienced great and mystical things unlike any other experiences in their lives. It certainly seems like any other religion in that sense, capable of bringing extreme happiness, but also capable of manipulating people who are at their most vulnerable.
I totally recommend this book, and the interview format makes it very easy to pick up at the drop of a hat, and, conversely, put down at the drop of a hat (or when you arrive at your train station) without breaking up the momentum of the book.
At my friend's Skylar's suggestion I also recently read Superstud by Paul Feig, creator of the beloved TV show Freaks and Geeks. The book is his account of his attempts to find love (and sex) while trying to remain true to his romantic ideals and the engrained pressure of his religious upbringing. Having experienced some of the same stuff as him, I got a kick out of reading what he had to say, though there are parts of the book where things drag. There are some moments of 100% absolute stupidity on his part, though, that equate with comedic GENIUS and make the book a worthwhile read. In particular, the last two major sections of the book have some comedic gold contained within which make it worthwhile to read everything up until then. This one is also an easy read, perfect for those 10 minute long train rides to and from work, or for those 10 minute long escapes to the toilet for a little poopoo session
More later...!!!
Well, it's strange to start off with this book, since it's not much of a spirit-booster, but I just finished Underground by Haruki Murakami, which is a series of interviews conducted with witnesses and survivors of the sarin gas attacks on the Tokyo commuter trains in 1995. The interviews are broken up into sections that focus on each particular train line that was hit, painting a narrative for each train from many different perspectives. Every narrative shares some similar points, mainly that of a gradual onset of the symptons of poisoning, the symptoms reaching a head, someone finally pinpoints the source of the problem, and then people scramble to try to survive or help the survivors.
One of the most shocking things about the accounts of the day is the apathy, or obliviousness, most people had to what could have been happening to them. Many of the interviewees witnessed other people passing out and such, but continued on about their merry way, off to work or wherever they were going, despite the fact that they were or would soon be falling victim to the same sorts of symptoms that had hit those around them already. Some of the interviewees, who had escaped the trains and train stations and managed to make it out to the streets, or even to work, acted as if these crazy headaches and blurred vision, etc, weren't anything too bad. Some also mentioned how passersby and even the news media reporting on the incident live and onsite failed to offer a helping hand, unless they were specifically badgered or hounded by someone to do so.
One of the survivors mentioned that he/she (I forget which) believed the attacks hurt so many people because Japanese people have a cultural tendency to grin and bear "it", in this case "it" being some unknown ailment suddenly setting upon them, soon to worsen and eventually be revealed as sarin gas poisoning. This same interviewee, who had lived in New York for some time, thought that Americans would be hooting and hollering and getting something done about it as soon as they noticed the strange smell on the train, or the onset of their symptoms. I agreed to a certain extent that some nosy, perpetually irked, sue-happy Americans would've probably disposed of the sarin packages on the trains much sooner than they were in reality, followed by drawing out a draft of their lawsuit against the train company. However, I don't think that the average American passerby would've done any more to help those suffering around them any more than the people did that day, since people everywhere seem to have the same "it ain't my problem" mentality. Additionally, the emergency response system is painted as inept by the desperation and frustration of the interviewees' accounts, but I get the impression that they were doing the best they could in a situation that very few could've expected (unlike, say, Hurricane Katrina).
There's also a small section of the book devoted to interviews with former Aum members, Aum being the cult that perpetrated the attacks, and that section was super interesting as well. The common thread in these accounts for the most part is of people who don't quite fit in or have any particular direction in life suddenly finding a place where they fit in and embracing it wholeheartedly. This led to people allowing themselves to, initially, be separated from their family and earthly possessions, to, later, being forcibly locked in sauna-like jails, secretly experimented upon with LSD, and given amnesia-inducing electro-shock therapy. Most of the people interviewed in this section had renounced Aum as an organization and the cult's leader as the divine guru after the attacks occurred, but all still appreciated their time in the cult, all having claimed to have seriously experienced great and mystical things unlike any other experiences in their lives. It certainly seems like any other religion in that sense, capable of bringing extreme happiness, but also capable of manipulating people who are at their most vulnerable.
I totally recommend this book, and the interview format makes it very easy to pick up at the drop of a hat, and, conversely, put down at the drop of a hat (or when you arrive at your train station) without breaking up the momentum of the book.
At my friend's Skylar's suggestion I also recently read Superstud by Paul Feig, creator of the beloved TV show Freaks and Geeks. The book is his account of his attempts to find love (and sex) while trying to remain true to his romantic ideals and the engrained pressure of his religious upbringing. Having experienced some of the same stuff as him, I got a kick out of reading what he had to say, though there are parts of the book where things drag. There are some moments of 100% absolute stupidity on his part, though, that equate with comedic GENIUS and make the book a worthwhile read. In particular, the last two major sections of the book have some comedic gold contained within which make it worthwhile to read everything up until then. This one is also an easy read, perfect for those 10 minute long train rides to and from work, or for those 10 minute long escapes to the toilet for a little poopoo session
More later...!!!
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Yo Soy Amerikajin
Here's a review I wrote about the Sakerock show I went to in Nagoya about a month ago:
CLICK HERE!!!
CLICK HERE!!!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Please Make Me Shutup
In a long tradition of idiots who go to another country only to complain about everything, I would like to comment today on how wack I think Japanese fashion is. I'm not talking about Fruits Magazine type crap, because we already knew that ish was wack anyway!
What I'm here to talk about is the hidden, yet very blatant, new wave of Japanese fashion. It's part California surfer-dude, part Blink-182 loving jerkweed, part super-feminine waif, all WACK!!! Let me be more specific, every young person between the ages of 14 and 21 out here has Abercrombie or Hollister-esque t-shirts that say either "California", "Surf", "Santa Monica", "Surf", "Reggae", or "Surf" on them, along with mesh hats cocked to the side, baggy cargo shorts or super tight jeans, crocs, and bleached blond hair (including eyebrows) that makes them look like albino zombies. Perhaps most people are unaware of this new fashion phenomenon, because I suspect that people in big cities where tourists gohttp://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=15628641&postID=1445399750455135130
Blogger: This Song Is Good - Edit Post "Please Make Me Shutup" actually have some exposure to fashion of better taste, but the suburbs of Japan are swarming with it!!!
The other extreme that represents a small, but equally laughable, portion of the Japanese youth fashion scene is the wannabe gangsta, or WANKSTA, as that fool 50 Cent once put it so aptly (I still think he's the worst rapper of the century). I saw one of my students at the mall food court (don't ask what I was doing there) and he walked up wearing some white jeans and jean jacket, both probably 4XL in size, with a bandana around his head, and a ridiculous chain hanging around his neck. This wasn't a typical bling-bling chain, but more like the type of chain that you put around some gigantic box, like a freight cargo container, to keep people from opening it up. This is the same kid with nearly no eyebrows left because he has plucked them all off who greets me in the hallways with "HELLOOOO! YES! OKAY!" on a daily basis. 'Nuff said.
Yes, I have no life.
OH! I did finally buy a record player out here, so I was finally able to listen to this awesome 45 I bought of a girl in a sailor uniform holding a gigantic rifle.
Here's the girl singing it live (skip ahead to 1:35 or so):
And here's another dope jam recommended to me by my boys Shawn and Ric.
I'll be keeping my eyes open for these hits in the used LP sections of my favorite junk stores.
What I'm here to talk about is the hidden, yet very blatant, new wave of Japanese fashion. It's part California surfer-dude, part Blink-182 loving jerkweed, part super-feminine waif, all WACK!!! Let me be more specific, every young person between the ages of 14 and 21 out here has Abercrombie or Hollister-esque t-shirts that say either "California", "Surf", "Santa Monica", "Surf", "Reggae", or "Surf" on them, along with mesh hats cocked to the side, baggy cargo shorts or super tight jeans, crocs, and bleached blond hair (including eyebrows) that makes them look like albino zombies. Perhaps most people are unaware of this new fashion phenomenon, because I suspect that people in big cities where tourists gohttp://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=15628641&postID=1445399750455135130
Blogger: This Song Is Good - Edit Post "Please Make Me Shutup" actually have some exposure to fashion of better taste, but the suburbs of Japan are swarming with it!!!
The other extreme that represents a small, but equally laughable, portion of the Japanese youth fashion scene is the wannabe gangsta, or WANKSTA, as that fool 50 Cent once put it so aptly (I still think he's the worst rapper of the century). I saw one of my students at the mall food court (don't ask what I was doing there) and he walked up wearing some white jeans and jean jacket, both probably 4XL in size, with a bandana around his head, and a ridiculous chain hanging around his neck. This wasn't a typical bling-bling chain, but more like the type of chain that you put around some gigantic box, like a freight cargo container, to keep people from opening it up. This is the same kid with nearly no eyebrows left because he has plucked them all off who greets me in the hallways with "HELLOOOO! YES! OKAY!" on a daily basis. 'Nuff said.
Yes, I have no life.
OH! I did finally buy a record player out here, so I was finally able to listen to this awesome 45 I bought of a girl in a sailor uniform holding a gigantic rifle.
Here's the girl singing it live (skip ahead to 1:35 or so):
And here's another dope jam recommended to me by my boys Shawn and Ric.
I'll be keeping my eyes open for these hits in the used LP sections of my favorite junk stores.
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