[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 31 Dec 2011

The other day, one of the news shows had a fluffy white rabbit and a glass globe full of seahorses as props to talk about the new year. As they reminded us, 2011 is the year of the rabbit. And they showed us the fluffy white rabbit -- a long-haired variety who was quite happy to be on TV.

Then they held up the globe full of seahorses as they told us that 2012 is going to be the year of the dragon. As they gave us close-ups of the seahorses, I turned to Mitsuko and asked what seahorses are called in Japanese. Are they dragons?

She thought for a minute, then said, "Oh! Tatsu no otoshi go." I knew that tatsu meant dragons, so we were getting closer. But what was that other part?  Otoshi -- forgotten -- go? Oh, that's ko, or children, with the sound changed to make it easier to say!

So seahorses are forgotten children of the dragon? I'm almost willing to bet that there is a folktale somewhere behind that name, but in the meantime, I am enjoying that poetic description of seahorses. Forgotten children of the dragon, indeed. So that's why they are being used as representatives for 2012. Along with quite a few painted and drawn dragons, of course.

Do you suppose there are other forgotten children of the dragon around? Something to think about as we go from the year of the rabbit, 2011, to the year of the dragon, 2012.

Happy New Year!
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting 14 Feb 2011

[apropos of nothing... but funny!]

One of the Sunday evening TV shows included what I guess would be called a Mythbuster's type bit. Apparently somewhere -- manga or anime? -- there's this notion that someone can paint some kind of glue on a baseball bat, so that when the batter goes to hit the ball... it sticks. So the batter swings, and then has a ball stuck on his bat. In this little bit, they had someone try to find out whether this was possible.

The investigator went to 3Bond, apparently a leading glue manufacturer, and posed the question to their research lab. They hemmed and hawed, showing off various kinds of glue that they produce, and finallly decided that the best candidate was a pressure-sensitive glue. This is what is used in roach-traps, flypaper, and similar applications.

As a lead-up to the baseball bat and ball, they painted a soccer ball with this glue, and let the investigator try to kick a goal with it. He took two steps, kicked... and nearly fell down, as the ball stuck to his foot. So far, so good.

Next, they got a professional baseball player, and let the 3Bond folks prepare the bat. It had a fairly thick layer of glue on it, like a layer of plastic wrapped around the head of the bat, but the player grinned and took a swing. And the ball flew across the park. They checked, and there was a clear impact mark in the middle of the glue, but it hadn't caught the ball.

The 3Bond man asked the ball player to try again, with a second bat. This one had an even thicker layer of glue. The player swung it a couple of times, and then took a pitch. And whacked the ball across the field again.

Finally, they handed the ball player a bat with glue... well, it was probably an inch thick all over the end of the bat. The player tried swinging it, and shook his head at the weight, but tried. And while he didn't manage to whack the ball as far -- it was more like an in-field pop fly -- the ball didn't end up stuck to the bat.

So, the conclusion. No. As far as they could tell, putting glue on the bat is not going to result in a stuck ball. Even if the glue is so thick that any batter would immediately notice it.

Although I suppose you could get the batter's hands glued to the bat?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original Posting 26 Dec. 2009

The other evening, I stumbled over a short session on TV with an artist working with two students. This particular artist apparently is of the manga comic persuasion. He was helping the students develop four panel comics. What I found intriguing was the broad descriptions of each of the panels that he gave while they were drawing.

Basically, he said that the first panel needs to show something happening -- the setting and a problem. So one of the students drew someone in their bed with the sun shining through the windows -- the person is stretching, throwing the covers back, groaning it's morning! The other student drew a washing machine that was leaking and the kids looking at the leak.

Then, he said, the second panel shows the first reaction of the characters, with the problem getting worse. The first student had their character getting a small milk carton out and not being able to open it. Frustration! The other student showed one of their characters climbing into the washer, headfirst, to find out where that leak was coming from.

The third panel is catastrophe, with the problem getting the upper hand and the stakes going up. The first student had their character yelling and violently trying to pull the carton open. The second student had the upside down character madly spinning around in the washer gone crazy.

The fourth panel is the punchline, with some kind of resolution or release. The first student had their character taking a chainsaw to that stubborn milk carton. The teacher pointed out that there should be a small geyser of milk to let us know that the chainsaw did the job. The second student had the character hanging on a clothesline in the sunshine, drying out.

What I thought was fun about this is the way that it parallels a short story. That initial hook, some action, in media res, and a hint at the setting to get us started. Act one, if you will. Followed by complications and frustrations as things get worse. That's act two all the way. And then the climax, the resolution as the character does something incredible. Act three.

The other thing that was interesting to me was the problems that these two students used for their comics. The frustration of getting up, and a  leaking washing machine. Neither one is earth shattering great issues, and yet the comics were fun. In some ways, I think using these kind of little everyday problems that we can all relate to is really better than the huge crises.

Anyway, something to think about. Four panel comics as a pattern or template for stories.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 23 Dec 2009

This morning's news program had a retrospective -- what were the big stories here in Japan from this last year? The actress who got arrested for drug use, various people getting married, this and that -- this seemed to be the actors and actresses scandals and human interest more than what I would've called news stories, but the interesting thing was the retrospective. What happened this year?

They're starting a little early, but I expect to see quite a few of these kinds of summaries of the last year and maybe a few predictions for the new year over the next week. The New Year's celebrations seem to bring out this kind of reflections on the last year, even though in fact you could declare a year at any point and look back 12 months. In any case, you might want to think about what were your stories this year? What happened in your life?

These are the kinds of things that you tell your brother or your sister when you meet them over the holidays. Someone that you haven't seen in a while. Doesn't have to be five or 10, could be less, could be more. But what are the high points and maybe low points that you remember? There might even be a story or two that you don't want to tell anyone, but you still want to look at it in your own private reflections. That's OK too.

It's a good time to think about what the last year has meant to you. You can stretch it to the last decade, or even longer if you want to -- sometimes I like to look back at my life history and think about the steps that led to today.

And then take a few minutes and look ahead. Maybe not New Year's resolutions, but at least setting your own expectations about what you would like to do in the coming year. Think about what it might take to build up to that -- if you want to do nanowrimo in November, maybe you want to do some planning and thinking ahead of time? Or there is that great opportunity to stretch out under the willow tree by the riverside and soak up some sun this summer -- it doesn't take as much preparation. Or maybe there are some people that you'd like to reach out to this year and see what happens?

In any case, enjoy the holidays. It's a good time for reflection, even if you are busy with travel and television specials and all that stuff.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original Posting 16 Dec 2009

I caught part of a "Cool Japan" TV show the other morning. This was a panel of foreigners, who were looking at various Japanese trends or news events. In this case, they had interviewers in Tokyo in the streets asking Japanese young women -- teenagers -- how they make wishes come true. They dug in their purses and started showing off... candy wrappers with 10 pictures? Train tickets with matching first and last numbers -- 9549? Or on a cell phone, certain graphics and their colors apparently have mystical interpretations. If you get a red one, you're going to get a new boyfriend?

During the panel discussion, a British man declared that children might believe that kind of thing, but adults certainly don't have such superstitions. No one seemed to feel like arguing with that, but I'm not so sure. How many people happily buy lottery tickets at the store that has had more winners, because you're more likely to win there? Or listen to certain stock market advisors, because some people got rich listening to them? Hasty generalization, along with other fallacies, certainly give us a disposition to creating superstitions. And once you start practicing, it can be difficult to disprove. Since I started wearing a garlic necklace, I haven't seen any vampires -- so I better keep wearing it, right?

I got to thinking about the temple sticks here in Japan. At many temples, you pick up a round case -- like a piece of bamboo with a bottom and a top. There is a small hole in the top. You shake this and tilt it until a single stick falls out. The number or symbol on the end of this stick is a fortune -- pick up your fortune from the nearby case and read it. Then, if you don't like the fortune, fold it into a thin strip and tie it on a nearby tree -- there's usually a bunch of other fortunes that have been tied up too.

The interesting thing is that while this is relatively random, people like the feeling of influence or control. I shook the case -- so what falls out is my fortune.

So much of our lives is really not under our control. National economies, grand disasters, even the fickleness of personal relationships, are not really something that we can simply decide and control. Still, any influence is better than none, right? So there's a temptation to look for things that might improve the odds, things that might let us shake the case.

And I'm not sure that it makes any sense to criticize such superstitions. After all, if someone carries around a lucky ticket, or a lucky rabbit's foot, and it makes them feel more empowered, more in control of their lives, what's the harm?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 14 Dec 2009

The other day there was a TV bit about a juku -- the intensive schools that many Japanese children attend. This particular one focuses on first to third year elementary school students, and apparently has been shown to have a reasonably effective program. Interestingly, the organizer of the school explained that they really only teach two things. Or maybe three, given their approach. The first one is reading, and the second one is writing. He said that he feels the focus on communication skills translates into other fields, such as mathematics.

The third one is kind of subtle. Each session at the school is 90 minutes long, and during that time the students are only doing one thing. For example, during the reading session, the students read for 90 minutes. They do nothing else but read. Sit and read. According to the organizer, he thinks that many students need to learn to focus on doing one thing for a period of time. TV and other influences teach distraction -- this class teaches focus.

The writing sessions are also 90 minutes of writing. However, they did indicate that there are several exercises that the students can choose between for their writing practice. If I understood correctly, once you start one, you do that for ninety minutes, but they do have several different ones. And... that's where I picked up something that sounded worthwhile for our list.

See, one of the exercises that they do is to take one of the books of comics -- four panel comics? -- and write it out. Describe the setting, characters, action and dialogue in the first panel, and then do the same for the second panel, and so on. If you finish one four-panel chunk, move on to the next. And...

It's kind of interesting because comics don't actually show action, they just imply it. But they certainly do show setting, and converting that into writing is good exercise in description. Deciding what the action really is, figuring out how to make the punchline punch... I think it's a good exercise.

So, go ahead and laugh. Then write!

(psst. http://www.thewebcomiclist.com/ says they have 14,900 comics.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Webcomic also provides links
or you can ask your friends what they like... huh, there's even comics in the bookstores in those funny little paper things...)
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 27 September 2009

Sunday morning, here in Japan, one of the television shows introduced us to a songwriter who was visiting a local school -- middle high school, I think. And what she was doing was running workshops on writing songs.

I like the approach -- pick a theme, then collect related words and phrases, and fit that into a framework. Then refine. And perform, get it out there in front of somebody. I think you could use something like that for a poem, or even a story. Let me explain...

The first part I saw, she had a whole class and said they were going to write a song together. The theme of the song was the color green. And she asked all of the students to dig down inside and tell her what green reminded them of. Was there a season, a place, a feeling, or whatever that it reminded them of? The first few answers were hesitant, but she wrote them on the board. And added that if something that someone else said reminded you of something, please, add that. And soon she was collecting suggestions, roughly grouping them as they came up. Until she had covered the very large whiteboard with words. Then she started going over them, erasing some, noting common threads, pointing out that this and that were kind of related.

The next step was simple. She had a melody -- a simple one with a strong beat -- and she took phrases from their collection and put it together into a simple song. One verse, thumpety-bump-bump-bump.

And now that we've practiced that, she divided everyone up into three different groups. Each group pulled a flag from a wastebasket, selecting their theme -- blue, red, or white. And the groups split up into subgroups, each of which was responsible for making one verse of their song. Four verses per group. So they collected words, and then matched them up with the group melody.

She also worked with the groups. Especially once they had their draft verses ready, she helped to review them. One of the things she pointed out was abstract or common or cliche phrases. I think one group had used "my summer" in three of the four verses, and she suggested that they think about more specific or personal phrases. What is my summer? What do you remember or think of when you hear that phrase? I think they replaced one of them with melting ice cream, and perhaps another with something about watermelons. So they refined their songs.

And the very last step in this process was for the three groups to perform their songs for each other. They took over an assembly space, which looked a lot like my high school gym, and had risers set up. And each group got up and sang the song that they had written in the last two or three days.

She cautioned them that they probably wouldn't become famous songwriters or performers. Especially not with just one week. But on the other hand, they had put together songs that meant something to them. They had worked together, they had selected words and experiences that came from their hearts, and performed them in front of their friends, and for a show that would be on national TV. And she assured them that no matter what they did in the future, they could always remember doing this song, this time.

And I'll bet those students will always remember writing a song.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original Posting 20 November 2008

If I'm not sure if I can get this across in text. But it should be fun trying.

The Japanese public television sometimes has some very interesting pieces. This particular one started with a little introduction to the art done by a woman. These are fairly large prints -- the early ones in simple black and white, apparently large woodblock prints. Some of her later work involves additional colors -- one that caught my eye had some brown in fairly large areas, along with at least two shades of green providing leaves for a tree. Almost all of the work includes strong architectural settings.

Then they ran through a little bit of her biography. If I understood correctly, she was born in Taiwan to Japanese parents. Then she lived in Japan for a while, and also had spent some time living in America.

And in the part of the show that really caught my attention, she was visiting Taiwan. A middle-aged woman, well-dressed, with a camera. She did seem to have colorful scarves as part of her outfit. But mostly she seemed almost cool, looking through her glasses at the buildings and other points of interest in Taiwan, stopping to take a picture of a plaza, or getting up on a balcony to take pictures of roofs with colorful dragons at their edges. No smile, seemingly a plastic observer.

Then she met an old friend in a plaza. He invited her to his studio. In this large open space, he had several works under way around the edges. She looked at one or two, without much evident interest. Then he laughed and got out a plywood sheet -- 4 x 8? He laid it on the floor, red side up, and sat down on the floor with it. He got out a small gouge and started carving. Suddenly she was on her knees, smiling, eyes intense, fingers almost twitching, clearly inspired. He took a piece of chalk and scribbled on one part of the work in progress, then grabbed a magic marker and scribbled over that -- and started gouging pieces of that section out. She was watching intently.

That moment of transformation -- when the cool observer suddenly became the involved artist -- was the part of the show that I certainly enjoyed.

They also got out his unfinished piece -- a scroll about a meter wide, and I'm not sure how long, that he's apparently been adding things to for 20 years. A chinese clown face on a baby torso, a looming architectural arch, and other bits and pieces. I gather he has no particular intention of trying to finish it or tie it together into some sort of a finished piece, but the pastiche or hodgepodge felt like there is an underlying unity, a theme of growth and excitement despite that. Almost as if history -- as experienced by an individual person -- was captured on that scroll.

But that's another story.

Maybe the key to this piece is in the kind of art that she does. After all, the sheet of wood with its red coating, carved and chipped and cut, is somewhat cool and reserved. Then coat it with a little ink or paint, and press it into the paper -- and when you lift it up, there's a fresh new picture, shining, unique, just created in that moment of contact between the stiff wood and the soft paper. That's almost the feeling I got, watching the well-dressed photographer suddenly transform into an intense presence at the side of the artist carving on his board.

Fun!
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 17 November 2008

A short sketch.

It's a lovely fall morning here, with the sun shining and the air crisp. And on the way to work, one of the neighbor boys stopped me with a question. He was wearing his school uniform, black shoes, white socks, black shorts, black jacket and white shirt, little black cap, and his black leather backpack. He had been digging in the dirt, but stopped when he saw me and stood up.

Then he looked at me and asked in Japanese, "Do you know the train of snails?"

I paused, ran the question through my slow translation process again and it still came out as a train of snails, and then answered him, "No, I don't think I do."

He then pointed up the road ahead of us and advised me to watch for it.

I thanked him and went on. I will admit, I looked as I went, wondering just what he meant. I didn't see anything that seemed to fit. And at the office, I poked around some in my online Japanese resources -- yep, that's train of snails, and nope, nothing seems to fit. So I'm still a little baffled as to what he was referring to. But I do admire the image that it summons to my mind, of a set of snails, all slipping along in line, forging ahead at their pace to a goal that only snails can imagine.

There is a slight vagrant thought that the backpacks that the kids wear to school could be snail shells, but that's a pretty sophisticated metaphor for a little boy. Although now that I think about it, they do tend to line up and walk along, one after the other. No trail of spit, though . . . I doubt that he meant that. But what a fascinating image to hold up to the world on this fall morning, and wonder where it fits. A train of snails . . .

There are other neighbors who tell me that this boy is a bit odd, and to just ignore what he says. But you know, I don't think I've had anyone else introduce me to the snail express, and that's pretty cool.

inching along in the morning sunshine
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 24 October 2007

I know it's anthropomorphizing, but . . .

The lunchtime news station had a little piece about some place up in Hokkaido. On a river, well inland from the shore.

So imagine you're a fish. Some kind of salmon, I think. And you've swum this far up the river. And there's a stupid flood control dam there, just high enough that the fish can't jump over it.

But you found the wooden collection space where they are trapping the fish. You've joined the horde flipping away in there. There were enough fish that it looked like you could walk on the water.

And now they put a large net on a frame into the space and use poles to drive the fish into the net. Haul the net up full of fish and dump it into a triangular space with a jet of water pumping into it. Flippety, flip, flip.

And you find the pipe that exits this space, along with some others, and dive into it. Long dark pipe that leads . . .

Across the dam, over the waters, and dumps you . . . onto a wooden deck, slippery with water.

And here is the indignity. While you are madly wriggling and trying to get further up river on this silly deck that they stuck in your way, one of several men stomps over in his plastic boots and looks down at you, then bats you to his left or right, depending on whether you are a male or female. He's got this wooden rake, and shoves you along. Another helper gives you a boost with his rake, and plop. You fall off the deck into a holding cage full of your sex mates. But . . .

Wasn't the whole point of this swimming up the river thing to find someone of the other kind? How you gonna finish the business if you get stuck in this cage?

I gather that they are "farmed" fish, and that in fact there is a careful program of replenishment. But wow! For the fish, it must be quite a come-down. Here you are, overcoming freshwater, swimming away upstream despite all the odds, ready to go out and reproduce for old Mother Nature, and bam! You get stuck in this series of tanks and pipes and people shoving you around with rakes. What a discouraging turn of events!

Makes you want to tell the next generation to try another river or something, eh?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
First posted 10 June 2007

Ho, ho.

My wife told me I wouldn't enjoy it, and she was almost right. It's one of those odd Japanese shows that I usually avoid. This one focuses on various people who have been separated from family or friends, usually for years, and brings them back together, or at least brings a note.

However, one of today's . . . you can't call them contestants, can you? People who are looking for a missing connection? One of the people on today's show caught my imagination. A young man, with a sad story of going to a bar . . . one or two nights a month, for a year? and falling in love with one of the bar girls. A waitress? No, let's call her a hostess, one of those graceful young ladies who helps you drink in a Japanese bar, listens to your talk, and then moves on to the next table.

Anyway, He said he was sure that she was also in love with him, although of course the bar rules prohibit consorting with customers. But then one day she disappeared. He proclaimed that he had offered to marry her, and then she disappears! And he really, truly would like to meet her again. So the show did their magic, getting a detective to track down the vanished hostess . . . and what does the panel recommend? Well, before even hearing his story, they were mostly against the meeting. Basically, they thought the hostess was probably just trying to get money, and that he would do best to forget her and go on. Then he protested, no, no, she wasn't that kind of girl! And the second vote? Still mostly against meeting.

And now, behind the door, there might be the girl, a note from her, or maybe nothing (yeah, we've had a few who simply refused to deal with the whole thing, although that's unusual). What do you think? [cut to commercial . . . they always have a commercial at this point, with the door just starting to open]

Frankly, at this point I was thinking about the exercise. Imagine, if you will, that young man and the hostess. Feel free to add in the bar owner or other customers, or perhaps his family? But focus on the story of him falling in love, discovering the disappearance, and his attempts to find the missing girl. Was she out to take his money? Did she disappear to save him from himself? Or was there something else behind her disappearance? I have to admit I heard the story and thought that she was probably more honest than people were giving her credit for. I thought she saw that he was falling for her, and left for his sake. After all, if she was really after his money, sticking around would have been easy.

Anyway, have fun with the vanishing hostess. Why did she leave? How can he find her? He doesn't even have a glass slipper.

You can also tell this from her point of view, of course. Or intertwine the two stories?

tink

PS. On the TV show, she was not behind the door. Instead, there was a note simply saying that for her it had been work, not love. She had gone on to another job and was very happy with her life. She hoped he would go on with his life and not try to find her anymore.

Do you think he will be able to forget her?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
originally posted 4 March 2007

Aha!

Here in Japan, one of the news stations did a report this morning on a puzzling set of thefts.

Apparently in a fairly small area, someone has made off with such oddities as stainless steel trays and fittings from a cemetery, a stack of aluminum hubcaps from a tire store, more aluminum from a recycling center, stainless steel posts from a park, and more aluminum and stainless steel. They may also have been responsible for the disappearance of one large temple bell (probably bronze). Oh, and there was a 550 Kilo (that's about 1,000 pounds!) spool of cable.

What apparently is causing the police and the reporters to scratch their heads is that most of this is not worth stealing. After all, a stack of junk aluminum in a recycling place - where you have to pull down the gate and then lift it into a truck somehow - isn't exactly the most salable article. They showed the junk yard owner scratching his head and saying "I think it must be someone else in the same business, but I don't know anyone in the area who would do this?"

One theory seems to be that the stuff has been hijacked onto a ship and taken to China. The notion here is that perhaps these goods are worth more there, so stealing it here in Japan and shipping it might make sense. Of course, I think they could just buy it and ship it. I'll bet that junk yard owner would be more than happy to sell you all you want cheap.

So, here's your assignment. Let's take the list as including the temple bell, aluminum odds and ends, stainless steel, and cable. Who would steal such an eclectic set of stuff in the middle of the night? Feel free to make your own list, but here's a beginning:
1. the crashlanded alien trying to fix his/her ship
2. goblins bent on confusing the issue
3. kids - although that spool of cable would have been a bear to get out? And where would you keep the stuff?
4. The Weird Scientist, now retired, who is building a ??? in his garage
5. It's a coincidence - these are totally unrelated thefts, with the only connecting link being the imagination of the police and reporters
6. Super mechanical monster # 9, who is valiantly trying to repair the damage inflicted during his last fight?
Okay, so have fun with it. Figure out someone or something that could be making these odd thefts, then tell us their story. Pathos, a bit of melodrama, and fun!

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