NWA fans, believe me - this is the shit:
Nina Gordon - SOC

(thx G!)

There's a recent Neal Stephenson interview over at Reason.

The longest word in the English language:

acetylseryltyrosylserylisoleucylthreonylserylprolylserylglutaminyl-
phenylalanylvalylphenylalanylleucylserylserylvalyltryptophylalanyl-
aspartylprolylisoleucylglutamylleucylleucylasparaginylvalylcysteinyl-
threonylserylserylleucylglycylasparaginylglutaminylphenylalanyl-
glutaminylthreonylglutaminylglutaminylalanylarginylthreonylthreonyl-
glutaminylvalylglutaminylglutaminylphenylalanylserylglutaminylvalyl-
tryptophyllysylprolylphenylalanylprolylglutaminylserylthreonylvalyl-
arginylphenylalanylprolylglycylaspartylvalyltyrosyllysylvalyltyrosyl-
arginyltyrosylasparaginylalanylvalylleucylaspartylprolylleucylisoleucyl-
threonylalanylleucylleucylglycylthreonylphenylalanylaspartylthreonyl-
arginylasparaginylarginylisoleucylisoleucylglutamylvalylglutamyl-
asparaginylglutaminylglutaminylserylprolylthreonylthreonylalanylglutamyl-
threonylleucylaspartylalanylthreonylarginylarginylvalylaspartylaspartyl-
alanylthreonylvalylalanylisoleucylarginylserylalanylasparaginylisoleucyl-
asparaginylleucylvalylasparaginylglutamylleucylvalylarginylglycyl-
threonylglycylleucyltyrosylasparaginylglutaminylasparaginylthreonyl-
phenylalanylglutamylserylmethionylserylglycylleucylvalyltryptophyl-
threonylserylalanylprolylalanylserine

An interview with Aeon CEO Motoya Okada:
Japan's Answer to Wal-Mart?

Excerpt:

Q: So what can you do to resolve this?
A: Well, we will continue to enhance our supply chain and reduce costs, [so savings] can be passed back to our customers. We can also enhance our private brand.

I personally think that most of the products marketed under Aeon's TopValu brand is noticeably inferior to competing brands. They can't even make decent green tea or dishsoap, which, as you might imagine, are fairly important items for the average Japanese consumer.

Recently, the combination of late nights and wet roads evokes memories so immersive, I often find myself halfway home before realizing that it's raining and I really should slow down. (The weather affects me more than I care to admit, I guess.) The memories I speak of all have one thing in common, that is, they are all memories of other late, rainy nights. This is my most recent one:

Around six years ago, I was driving a coworker to her house in Moriguchi (Osaka), after a company drink-up. She had passed out and my boss asked me to take her home.

It was raining pretty hard that night, and the tinted windows on my Citroen made for poor visibility out of the side and rear windows. As it was before strict DUI laws existed in Japan, I was driving kinda sloppy, mostly because the crappy driving conditions were annoying me. In fact, I was pondering so heavily on the fact that "god must hate me because it always rains on the weekend," I almost failed to stop in time at a train crossing. By almost, I mean, you know the striped fiberglass bar that lowers when the train is coming? When I came to a complete stop, my windshield was bending it forward. The crossing bells were ringing and the train was sounding its horn, and the slow motion adrenalin rush kicked in as I threw the car in reverse and backed away from the tracks - just in time.

I think I just sat there for a while.

All I really remember is thinking, rain be damned, God Must Fucking Love Me.

A well-written introduction and shop guide pertaining mostly to the Tokyo area:
Record Shopping in Japan

In Osaka, I like browsing the Gorilla Records shop in the basement of the building next to Tower Records Shinsaibashi. The "Real Hip-Hop Americans from Lagos" on the street corners of Amemura, however, are sometimes more than one can bear.

Forever Records, between Namba Parks and DenDen Town (down the street from an improbably-located 7-11), used to have a good selection, but I haven't been there in eons... Pawning my 1200s when I was a student was a necessary evil, but it still hurts to think about.

By far, the best deals on vinyl I have ever found are in second-hand stores. I once found a rare Beatles pressing worth several hundred dollars in a pile marked on sale for 100 yen.

Last year I noted a fascinating article about US soldiers in Iraq passing the time by fishing the ponds at Saddam's palatial estates:
What to do when you're bored in Iraq

Today, via Instapundit, I was happy to see a related post by Bigwig:
Fishes of Iraq: Aspius Vorax

Wondering if I had missed out on similar content around the net, I did a hasty search and found some other interesting links:
Donated Tackle Helps Troops Fish at Saddam's Private Lake
Cyprinidae Fishing Techniques
Iraq Fisheries Data
Fishing in the lake behind Saddam's palace using MREs for bait: PRICELESS!

I have quite a few relatives in Japan, and have met many of them over the course of my stay here. They are all from my father's side of the family, because the wealthy snobs on my mother's side cut off contact with their American relatives years ago. I have not tried to get in touch, either - although I've made plans to several times, it's not really that important to me, I guess. I get busy and forget about it, you know how it goes.

I'm quite close with a few of my second cousins (on my father's side). I go visit them in Nara sometimes, and we hang out. It's just nice having relations around sometimes... I think of this as an added bonus for Nikkei since most of us don't have the "blue-eyed, blonde-haired gaijin" looks and benefits associated with such in Japan.

Anyway. I'm in a difficult situation now, or rather, my cousin is. She told me about it a couple weeks ago, and I really haven't stopped thinking about it since then. Her parents have set up a marriage of convenience for her. She is unwilling - she has a boyfriend, among other things. But her parents are unrelenting. These facts alone create several different problems and no easy solution. There are other factors involved, but this is as detailed as I'm comfortable with, for now.

First off, I told her not to elope with her boyfriend in haste. Such youth does not mix well with impromptu life decisions, and I can say that because I know. Luckily, she wasn't really considering that anyway so I didn't have to convince her too hard. In fact, she is now pursuing the best course of action possible, and we covered it in detail that day.

Basically, I gave her my support. There is nothing else I can do at the moment. I respect her parents and understand their motivation, but I support their daughter, which, by the way, is what I think they would want of me, as well. I know them well. It is not for lack of understanding or compassion that they would marry their daughter to a person she has never met.

My cousin expressed regret that there is no happy ending to this situation. I told her that you can't make everyone happy, and that the real Japanese way to handle this - a dual skinny dip in icy water via Osamu Dazai - might be just a bit dramatic. She laughed out loud, and the sound of it made everything better for a instant.

We are keeping in touch, and when I think about this it consumes me.

....

For the time being, I ask anyone who reads this post to refrain from acknowledging it in the real world to anyone but me. There is zero chance of it affecting the situation at hand, but it will piss me off anyway. Meanwhile, thanks for lending an ear.

Download file (PowerPoint slideshow)

I have a long weekend, so I'm going boarding with my bro and T up near Lake Biwako. We leave tonight and will sleep in the parking lot so we can get in a full day. Tomorrow night, Bill is closing his bar in Nara, so we'll head there for some apres ski debauchery. Oh, my little cousin Nana broke her brand new Powerbook, so I gotta take a look at that before getting too sloshed, I suppose.

On Sunday, we'll go visit Nam's older sister, who flew over from Bangkok this week for a business trip.

Other than that, right now we're at T's house waiting for him to finish eating his bowl of soup and listening to Right On, a Last Poets vinyl. It is the angry sound of the street, in a world as far away from this little Japanese house as can be - but the pop and crackle of the record is familiar and soothing, and every single song on this album has been sampled for use in rap songs over the years. I sit here and mentally name the usages of the sampled sections as the record plays. Public Enemy, Jungle Brothers, Tribe Called Quest. To me, this is the sound of one hand clapping.

After the long, rainy drive out from Awaji, I am in danger of becoming immobile, because I am tired, and have found a rare moment of peace. Ah, but now they are calling for me to go. Well... If I must. Just drag me off to the slopes already.

I have known worse moments than this, and tonight I am smiling.

Due to unforseen circumstances, I just spent a whole half an hour 43 minutes supervising forklifts loading a huge truck with our products. You may recall that this is not one of my areas of specialty. Or it wasn't until today, at least. Now that I can add Forklift Supervisor to my resume, I just might be able to relax a little and can die knowing I am a true leader of... operators. Plus, it was highly educational.

I learned that oncoming traffic respects vehicles with sharp-pointed steel arms protruding from the front. I also learned that the bald, white rubber tires on forklifts combined with a smooth concrete floor make for awesome power slides. Other than that, it was hard to pick up some of the nuances and whatnot, because I was too busy CONCENTRATING ON THE JOB AT HAND, FULFILLING MY WORKPLACE RESPONSIBILITIES, and really wishing I could be LEADING BY EXAMPLE.

I have learned that supervision, for the most part, is for suckers. It turns out that you just sit there bored out of your fucking mind while the peasants toil away and tell fart jokes, which may sound like fun, but sucks big nuts in reality. If you can get past that, you may be ready to be a supervisor.

Your role as a supervisor is simply to be there, and be ready to perform harakiri later if your guys screw up too badly. So you have to stay on top of them and treat them like they're little children. This is not so hard, because the thing is, they begin hating you and will be jealous of the benefits and respect earned by your increased rank, such as being able to leave your desk without telling people where you're going. Petty drones.

I was basically born to do this job, I think. For instance, as I supervised to the best of my ability, some of the operators asked if I was sleepy, but I told them the "spaced-out" look on my face was from being concerned with holes in the ozone layer caused by hydrocarbon emissions and would you PLEASE GO THE FUCK BACK TO WORK ALREADY! What, do you think yen grows like seaweed or something? Time is money, money is time! Jeez.

... where people often get shanked.

I never used to be fazed by shit like this in the news because over the years I just became numb to it. When you first start living in Japan, it is hard to understand why the people can be selflessly polite and compassionate on one hand, and yet were feared as such ruthless self-disembowling baby killer rape-happy sadists not so long ago. One hint that perhaps not all is well in modern times, either, is the frequency of shockingly violent/sadistic/twisted incidents reported in the Japanese media. It seems like we hear about classroom slashings, group suicides, and heart-wrenching abuse cases on an almost daily basis, and I just got conditioned to it. I ceased thinking about it for many years.

Then, last year, my sister was stalked up the stairs to her apartment in Osaka. Her quavering voice on the phone, just after it happened, is burned into my memory forever. After the initial wave of brotherly concern/homicidal rage subsided within me, dark feelings started sinking in again. About how the fucked up shit you hear on TV doesn't just happen to strangers. About how powerless you can be in the face of fate, no matter what precautions are taken or irrelevant "what are the odds" pontifications.

My sister went home to the states in the summer, but to this day, whenever I see a headline about a stabbing at a school in Osaka (way too often), I get that sinking feeling in my gut, my jaw clenches shut, and I taste copper. Time slows down and my shoulders start to feel heavy... But when I snap out of it, I realize my fists are clenched, my teeth ache from grinding together, and I seriously want to destroy some motherfuckers.

Not like this guy. Whoa... That's even more impressive than the parking cone collection I had in my college dorm room! I have a feeling that guy would feel at home in Akiba, for some reason.

Useless factoid o' the day: I went to middle school with the daughter of Sergio Aragones. Groo!

Thou art a vile pimple on the arse of humanity, yet it pains to smite thee thusly...

Were it not for the heinous afflictions suffered unto thine colleagues, thou might err justly on the side of righteousness and bear forgivance!

But... Two separate incidents marked with the same gross display of incompetence in the space of a fortnight?

Woe!

Woe, I say!

A pox upon thee!

...

Back to work after a 3-day weekend (can't be bothered to remember what Stupid Japanese Holiday it was). Mondays suck but I won't bore you with the obvious. Much to my surprise I found a possible contender for Most Disturbing Headline Ever - go take a look for yourself: LINK

Looking through some photos I took last year brought back memories of the one-eyed kitten we rescued and eventually named Yoda. His was a happy ending.

My sister took him as carry-on when she went back home to the states last summer. He now lives at my family's house and apparently weighs more than our Shih Tzu.

I have missed having pets here in Japan.

It occurs to me that on a scale of Loserdom, a white supremacist with a mother named Maria Del Prado is second only to these suicide bombers you occasionally see on the news whose vests go off prematurely, killing only themselves.

One can only hope these losers spend eternity comparing notes on their failed lives and getting eaten by 72 virgin goats in an oasis of poison oak and concertina wire.

Damn, what was in my coffee today?

How can it be so easy to spot shortcomings in other people while being completely blind to one's own? For instance, I remember how badly other people's hypocrisy used to bug me, but I became so used to it, it never fazes me much anymore - to the point where I can justify my own if its pointed out, say, during an argument. I think people build up a resistance to a lot of the bullshit they are confronted with, but only at the expense of their own values. Is this why you sometimes meet old friends only to find that you like the memory of them much better than their actual current selves?

Reading the crap I just wrote above, I now realize I am mumbling to myself online.

Cool.

Too many beans in Chez Whitey's burrito?

UPDATE: Read the article in the extended entry.

This is your brain on rugby: OUCH.

So I got the call from the bank yesterday and they changed their minds about having me inside the bank, I guess. They offered to meet me on my lunch break in the union office next to our company cafeteria today. They told me to bring ID and my hanko (personal seal) to sign off on a receipt, to which I said, "no." The guy replied I could sign my name instead of using a hanko (as if that was the problem), and I basically made up my mind to not sign a goddamn thing before going into the meeting today. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so why should I have to do anything to get back what is rightfully mine? I even mused over demanding they pay interest on the money they "borrowed" from me for 24 hours, but to be honest, I got tired of the whole damn thing and just wanted to end it quickly and painlessly.

But. The rep they sent today was a total fucking tool. First of all, he didn't even apologize for the shit they put me through. Second, he sneered at me when he said my first name, as if it was a piece of foreign shit sullying the inside of his mouth. If you know me, you will be proud to hear that I didn't strangle him on the spot. No, I was determined to get through this shit and forget about it as quickly as possible. However, bankboy slipped up - he didn't check my ID and just asked me to sign a receipt. I took out a pen and pretended to read it over during which time he laid a cash envelope on the table. I counted the cash (all 25,000 was there), slipped it in my wallet, and stood up to leave.

As I exited the office, bankboy yells, "Yoshida - wait, you gotta sign this receipt!"

So now it's Yoshida, eh? What happened to "Jasuchin," you little bitch? I reply, "Is it gonna be a problem if I don't? Will you be inconvenienced?"

"Yes, it will be an inconvenience!" he says.

"Good, now you'll know how inconvenienced I felt yesterday" is the line I was waiting to drop all day, and now that I've used it to full effect, the girls eating lunch behind the counter are quietly cheering me on.

I walk out of the office and down the hall, and this is where the story takes a turn because - you guessed it - bankboy isn't ready to let the matter drop. No, he decides it's time for physical confrontation. He lets out a kiai, grabs my shoulder from behind, then gets in front of me, blocking my path with his body and grabbing the front of my work uniform. Then, he is grabbing for air and grabbing the wall, because somehow my body remembered how to be a defensive lineman after all these years and sent him flying without slowing down for even a second.

I did not look back.

It will be interesting to see if they come after me in some way - through my company or the union, or even the authorities (there's my hard-wired paranoia circuit kicking in). But I won't lose any sleep over it. Stupid fucks.

UPDATE: They DID come after me. Surprise, surprise. Luckily, my company LOVES me and stood behind me all the way. A couple of my supervisors came to see me and were as apologetic as the bank shoud have been. I explained the matter in detail and finally decided to sign the receipt (which the supervisors were passed from the bank) because it would have inconvenienced my company, who as far as I'm concerned is a completely innocent and unrelated party in this matter. However, I was adamant about having the bankboy reprimanded for being unapologetic and more importantly, physically assaulting me, and the supervisors promised to get on the bank's ass about it for me. So... Closure. Sweet, sweet closure.

I FOUGHT THE LAW AND THE LAW GOT BODY-CHECKED.

1. "Scattered f***ing showers, my ass!" - Noah, 4314 BC

2. "How the f*** did you work that out?" - Pythagoras, 126 BC

3. "You want WHAT on the f***ing ceiling?" - Michelangelo, 1566

4. "Where did all those f***ing Indians come from?" - Custer, 1877

5. "What the f*** do you mean, 'we're sinking?'" - Capt. E.J. Smith of RMS Titanic, 1912

6. "It does SO f***ing look like her!" - Picasso, 1926

7. "Where the f*** are we?" - Amelia Earhart, 1937

8. "Any f***ing idiot could understand that." - Einstein, 1938

9. "What the f*** was that?" - Mayor Of Hiroshima - 1945

10. "I need this parade like I need a f***ing hole in the head!" - JFK, 1963

11. "Aw c'mon. Who the f*** is going to find out?" - Bill Clinton, 1997

12."Damn, I didn?t think they?d get this f***ing mad." - Saddam Hussein, 2003

I am not the only person who has scraped his asshole raw with the sandpaper commonly dispensed in public toilets in Japan. This is fact. However, I may be the only one blogging about it today, which makes me special. The entire point of this post is to point out that the Japanese should emulate the Brits with regard to this matter.

Also, is "hemorrhoids/haemorrhoids" like "color/colour?"

That is all.

During lunch break I went to one of the ATMs next to our company cafeteria and tried to withdraw 25,000 yen. The transaction went smoothly until the very last step - my bank card and the receipt came out of the machine, but when the cash drawer opened, the machine suddenly seized up with squeaking cacophony of bill-shredding grinds and the drawer slammed shut, leaving me empty-handed. The revolving status indicator spun sickeningly for a brief instant and finally landed on OUT OF ORDER. I glanced at my relection on the two-way glass panel from which I was doubtlessly being recorded and saw my jaw drop in a classic "WTF?" reaction.

I consciously shook off my surprise and picked up the service phone adjacent to the ATM. Twenty rings later, a sweet voice answered. The following conversation ensued:

"Hello, this is Roukin ATM Service Center"

"Hi, your ATM just died before spitting out my 25,000 yen and I'm on my lunchbreak..."

"Name, please"

(pause) "Justin Yoshida"

"OK, Yoshida-sama, please give me a number where we can contact you."

"Say what?"

"Your phone number"

"Why the hell do you need my phone number? Just send someone out to give me my money."

"That's not the way it works - just go about your business and someone will be sent out to fix the machine later, after which somebody from the sales department will call about returning your cash. They will be calling you as soon as possible."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm holding a receipt that says you paid me 25,000 yen which I NEVER RECEIVED and as far as I know is just stuck in the cash drawer and you think I'm gonna fucking WALK AWAY FROM THE MACHINE BECAUSE SOMEONE ON THE PHONE SAID IT WAS OK? You could be in Lagos for all I know! NOW SEND SOMEONE TO FIX THE FUCKING MACHINE AND GIVE ME MY MONEY!"

"Sir, all of repairmen are out at lunch righ-"

"DAMMIT! I'm on MY fucking lunchbreak, too! And I know this may be hard to comprehend, but you might consider the reason I needed some of that money was to buy LUNCH!"

"I'm terribly sorry sir, but standard procedure requires me to inform you that repair personnel will be sent as soon as possible and that a representative from sales will be in touch with you as soon as possible."

"Now that you've mentioned it twice, just exactly when is 'as soon as possible?'"

"Hmmm... Well, it will probably be sometime tomorrow."

"MOTHERFUCKER SAY WHAT?"

"What, sir?"

"Now I'm fucking pissed - I want a repairman here right fucking NOW."

"Sir, as I've stated before, standard procedure calls fo-"

"That's it, I'm hanging up to go get a hammer."

Instead, I hung around out of sight of the cameras (in retrospect, why?). The repairman showed up in five minutes. I felt sorry for the guy because he had a grain of rice hanging off his chin and really must have been called off lunch so I didn't give him any shit. Plus, he was obviously a third party serviceman and not directly related to the stupid bank. He cleared the machine and called to confirm if he could hand me over the 25,000... At which point, the Bank from Hell decided to give me more shit and insist, again, even though the money was in my sight, that a sales rep would call me and they would handle it that way. I halfheartedly argued with the twats for a few minutes, but I really wasn't getting anywhere... So I pulled the trump card.

I got a bank manager on the phone and started accusing them of racial discrimination, on the basis that their decision to wait a day before rectifying the situation was made only after they had asked my name and confirmed SOP for dealing with gaijin and couldn't he make it easy on EVERYONE INVOLVED by doing the eight thing and authorizing the repairdude to hand me over the cash (that by the way I paid a nominal service charge to withdraw)?

Apparently not.

The manager said I'm going to have to go to the bank to get my cash, but not until after they find out what went wrong with the machine in the first place (like that's my fucking problem).

Cunts.

So now I'm waiting for the call from the sales rep, who the manager has promised will call before the end of the day. They better not assign a newbie, because I swear on all that's holy, I am going to make that motherfucker cry over the phone. Then if they really do force me to pick up the money at the bank, I'm going to...

- To Be Continued... -

I'll let you in on a little secret: This is my official Monday morning search engine. Because on Mondays, you ALL be actin' like beotches tryin' to find shiznit.

Go forth, you hack:
Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully: in Ten Minutes by Stephen King

Obviously, I haven't had time to read it yet.

Yesterday was setsubun, the traditional Japanese new year, and we celebrated accordingly. I got home from a long day at work, the GF touched my arm and said "you're it!," then we played "oni ha soto" tag for a couple minutes.

Then, I fell asleep on the sofa. (happy. new year.)

P.S. Shouldn't we get the day off or something? Doesn't tradition mean anything to these heathens?

^*Not to be confused with Japanese Fish Cake ("kamaboko")

Early attempts at manufacturing sausages from fish meat (employing cellophane or sheep innards as the outer wrapper/skin) have been traced back to the Taisho period (1912 - 1926). It is not clear why these early experiments failed but one might suspect the very concept of a "fish sausage" sounded pretty weird, even to the inventor's own family. After all, fish was delicious even without encasing it in animal entrails and could be preserved, to an extent, with traditional methods such as salting and drying. In addition, the formula for creating fish sausages were not perfected before the idea was shelved.

In the years following the war, huge demand was seen for canned and preserved foodstuffs that could be easily manufactured, stored, and distributed, and a new development effort was started in the industry to revive the fish sausage project. By borrowing a technology used in the aforementioned kamaboko industry at the time - using rubber hydrochloride (!) to make transparent skins for the sausage - and fine-tuning the recipe, a feasible product was achieved and mass production of fish sausages began in 1951. The following year it was brought to market, and the rest, as they say, is history. The product was a huge hit and demand increased every year to the point where entire generations of Japanese were brought up eating fish sausages in their school lunch, at home, and everywhere in between.

The industry is definitely not at its peak these days, but there are still many companies producing varied and successful fish sausage products. Here is one site with good photos linked to an online store that will deliver to your door (in Japan). There was even a Japan Fish Sausage Association until a few years ago. It disbanded and joined up with the Japan Canners Association where they became - you guessed it - the Japan Fish Sausage Committee. The legacy lives on.

......

All the information used in this post was gleaned from various Japanese web sites. I can't possibly be the ONLY PERSON in the ENTIRE ENGLISH-SPEAKING WORLD interested in the WONDERFUL HISTORY OF FISH SAUSAGE, right?... Actually, judging by the absence of research materials available on it, maybe I am. Which is strange, because I don't like eating the stuff - it just seems wrong to stress my mouth, which is used to pork, beef, and other normal ingredients for sausage (I may have gotten used to corn on pizza, but fishy-tasting sausage? NEVER!)

Other fun stuff unearthed in my search for the elusive fish sausage:

- This is processed fish products nirvana: GYONIKUKAN (JP-only, go look anyway)

- In regard to sausage filling, some sausage academics use the term "farinaceous filler" instead of, simply, "starch"

- According to one account, the fish used in the first mass-produced fish sausages was Alaska Haddock. Over the years the industry preference changed to tuna (shockingly, these were called Tuna Sausages), then to whale (now I see why the fish sausage trend never caught on in the west), then to, well - everything with scales.

- Somehow, it's easier for me to accept that the waste parts of fish (as Mandy said here, "lips and peckers," are most probably used to make these sausages. Easier than thinking about "hooves and assholes" in an "all-beef" hot dog, that is. If you know what I mean.

- The Japan Canners Association has an inspirational theme song on its site. Scroll down to the bottom of the page for the music files.

- The now-defunct Japan Fish Sausage Association was once located at:
Japan Fish Sausage Assn
Nihon Gyoniku Soseji Kyokai
Kusumoto 6 Bldg
1-3-9 Higashi Shimbashi
Minatoku Tokyo 105-0021
Tel 03 35735586 Fax 03 35735587