I'm heading overseas for a little trip this week, and hope to have some interesting stories to tell upon my return.
It's a lovely day over here, as I sit near the window, preparing to leave. A cool wind blows through the trees, while birds sing and cicadas rattle away up in the trees. The air is fresh and laden with the scent of flowers and grass freshly-cut.
The summer foliage in these parts is lush and full of life. I find choke-cherries strewn across my route to work, while crab-apples waxing red upon the branch. Our garden is prospering at this juncture, having yielded a great number of strawberries and blueberries, with green peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, and string-beans still to come. The flowerbeds are colorful and bright, and a delight to the eye. Meanwhile, the forest down the hill is lush and green; the stream alive with all manner of insects, fish, turtles, and water-fowl. I feel very fortunate to have watched the season grow into itself, seeing the promise of spring so grandly fulfilled.
Perhaps now we'll get to see what a corner of the wider world looks like.
Take care, and happy Friday, friends :)
Friday, July 24, 2015
*Memories of Silk and Straw: A self-portrait of small-town Japan*
I really liked this book, a sparkling collection of about fifty stories told by residents of rural Japan in the early 20th century. Compiled by Dr. Junichi Saga, they tell of a rich world that has mostly disappeared; of tidal lakes teeming with fish and eel, clean air, and a lazy river lined with sakura trees. There were dark sides as well; extreme poverty, infectious diseases, and mass abortions when times were lean, to name but a few. For all of that, there were plenty of happy times, too.
I came away from this book with many impressions, the idea that "progress" is a complicated term not the least of them.
Do give this excellent collection a read if Japanese history and culture interests you.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
What I've been reading...
Marius B. Jansen, "The Making of Modern Japan" (2000): I really liked this one, despite it feeling dense at times. Jensen's narrative has a nice flow that shows both continuities and sharp breaks in Japan's government, policy, society, and the climate of opinion from Sekigahara to the turn of the new millennium. It as a good read, albeit increasingly out of date--David Pilling's "Bending Adversity" is perhaps a good supplement to Jensen's work.
Jenny Uglow, "In These Times: Living in Britain Through the Napoleonic Wars, 1793--1815" (2014): A rich social history, brimming with fascinating insights gleaned from diaries, letters, and print-material of the era. This is a very good book of a transformative period in British history.
Arrived on my pile:
Dr. Junichi Saga, "Memories of Silk and Straw: A Self-Portrait of Small-town Japan" (1990).
Jonah Lehrer, "Imagine: How Creativity Works" (2012).
Jenny Uglow, "In These Times: Living in Britain Through the Napoleonic Wars, 1793--1815" (2014): A rich social history, brimming with fascinating insights gleaned from diaries, letters, and print-material of the era. This is a very good book of a transformative period in British history.
Alan Booth, "The Roads to Sata: A 2,000-mile Walk Through Japan" (1985): Great travel-writing, detailing a four-month walking trip along (or near) the western coast of Japan's three largest islands. Booth's anecdotes drift between humor and absurdity, and his journey brings him into contact with all manner of people--rich, poor, kind, rude. Despite the hardships he describes, reading this book has put me in the mood to take a long walking trip.
Daniel Kahneman, "Thinking Fast and Slow" (2011): An astonishing book on the science of human decision-making, and how it can and does lead to poor outcomes. I noted a few quotes while reading:
"A reliable way to make people believe in falsehoods is frequent repetition, because familiarity is not easily distinguished from truth. Authoritarian institutions and marketers have always known this fact."
“This is the essence of intuitive heuristics: when faced with a difficult question, we often answer an easier one instead, usually without noticing the substitution.”
“Because we tend to be nice to other people when they please us and nasty when they do not, we are statistically punished for being nice and rewarded for being nasty."
“The experiencing self does not have a voice. The remembering self is sometimes wrong, but it is the one that keeps score and governs what we learn from living, and it is the one that makes decisions. What we learn from the past is to maximize the qualities of our future memories, not necessarily of our future experience. This is the tyranny of the remembering self.”
“The world makes much less sense than you think. The coherence comes mostly from the way your mind works.”
“Confidence is a feeling, which reflects the coherence of the information and the cognitive ease of processing it. It is wise to take admissions of uncertainty seriously, but declarations of high confidence mainly tell you that an individual has constructed a coherent story in his mind, not necessarily that the story is true.”
“Nothing in life is as important as you think it is, while you are thinking about it.”Would certainly recommend.
Arrived on my pile:
Dr. Junichi Saga, "Memories of Silk and Straw: A Self-Portrait of Small-town Japan" (1990).
Jonah Lehrer, "Imagine: How Creativity Works" (2012).
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Congratulations USWNT: 2015 World Cup Champions
The FIFA Women's World Cup 2015 is now in the books, with the United States defeating Japan 5-2 in the final. Congratulations to the US for their victory.
To all who took part, thank you for doing your best and for making this tournament a memorable one.
Source |
Saturday, July 4, 2015
A Memorial to Dallett Hemphill
I am saddened beyond words to hear of the passing of Dr. Dallett Hemphill, professor of American History at Ursinus College. I never knew her age, but whatever it was, it was too young. The world has lost a fine teacher, and a human being finer still.
She will be missed.
My direct acquaintance with Dr. Hemphill began with two courses she taught--a history of the American Civil War, and a similar course on the American Revolution. Her classes were rigorous but full of interest; her style of teaching a mix of lecture and cultivated discussion. She proved a hearty conversationalist, both within the classroom and without, as well as a proponent of experiencing history beyond books. Though her driving left me car-sick on more than one occasion (accelerating to stop-signs was among her numerous specialties), I nevertheless enjoyed travelling with her and classmates to Valley Forge, Trenton, Princeton, and Old City Philadelphia to hear her digress on topics as wide ranging as battlefield medicine, Federal-style architecture, and the lengths to which many reenactors go to make their costumes authentic.
She had a passion for history, teaching, and the welfare of her students. Her office and manner were equally welcoming and always open.
This openness extended beyond graduation, as on the few occasions I found myself on campus I almost invariably ended up sitting across from her on the third floor of Olin, discussing life and where it had taken us. Our final meeting came as something of a surprise, as I had ended up on campus late one Tuesday evening last fall, and thought to check the third floor's "Free Book" table for any interesting selections. Dr. Hemphill was staying late that night, and was as surprised so see me as I to see her. We spoke for a while, like old times, she remarking on my drawings and latest employer, and I congratulating her on her appearance in a documentary. It was a good chat, and I am glad that our paths managed to cross once more.
To me at least, Dr. Hemphill--much like Ursinus College--changed lives for the better. She pushed and nurtured; demanded and welcomed. I learned much and more from her teaching and example, and I miss her now more than I ever thought I would. She touched my life, as doubtless she had touched the lives of others across years.
Many of us have lost a dear friend today. To those who share my grief, I can only offer my condolences and best wishes. To the memory of Dallett Hemphill, I can say only this:
Thank you for making my life richer, and for exemplifying so many admirable qualities in your life and work. Farewell, farewell...farewell, my friend. You are truly missed.
"Keep your face toward the sunshine--and shadows will always fall behind you."
-Walt Whitman
She will be missed.
My direct acquaintance with Dr. Hemphill began with two courses she taught--a history of the American Civil War, and a similar course on the American Revolution. Her classes were rigorous but full of interest; her style of teaching a mix of lecture and cultivated discussion. She proved a hearty conversationalist, both within the classroom and without, as well as a proponent of experiencing history beyond books. Though her driving left me car-sick on more than one occasion (accelerating to stop-signs was among her numerous specialties), I nevertheless enjoyed travelling with her and classmates to Valley Forge, Trenton, Princeton, and Old City Philadelphia to hear her digress on topics as wide ranging as battlefield medicine, Federal-style architecture, and the lengths to which many reenactors go to make their costumes authentic.
She had a passion for history, teaching, and the welfare of her students. Her office and manner were equally welcoming and always open.
This openness extended beyond graduation, as on the few occasions I found myself on campus I almost invariably ended up sitting across from her on the third floor of Olin, discussing life and where it had taken us. Our final meeting came as something of a surprise, as I had ended up on campus late one Tuesday evening last fall, and thought to check the third floor's "Free Book" table for any interesting selections. Dr. Hemphill was staying late that night, and was as surprised so see me as I to see her. We spoke for a while, like old times, she remarking on my drawings and latest employer, and I congratulating her on her appearance in a documentary. It was a good chat, and I am glad that our paths managed to cross once more.
To me at least, Dr. Hemphill--much like Ursinus College--changed lives for the better. She pushed and nurtured; demanded and welcomed. I learned much and more from her teaching and example, and I miss her now more than I ever thought I would. She touched my life, as doubtless she had touched the lives of others across years.
Many of us have lost a dear friend today. To those who share my grief, I can only offer my condolences and best wishes. To the memory of Dallett Hemphill, I can say only this:
Thank you for making my life richer, and for exemplifying so many admirable qualities in your life and work. Farewell, farewell...farewell, my friend. You are truly missed.
"Keep your face toward the sunshine--and shadows will always fall behind you."
-Walt Whitman
Friday, July 3, 2015
*Welcome to the N.H.K., N・H・Kにようこそ!*
*Possible spoilers*
I'm referring here to the anime (24-episodes), not the novel or manga, neither of which I've read, and have heard are rather different from one another. That said, I recently watched the full series and came away with a very favorable opinion of it.
The story covers a year in the life of a reclusive 22 year old hikikomori named Tatsuhiro Sato, who through the help of some friends--Nakahara Misaki and Kaoru Yamazaki--goes through some pretty strange adventures, but in many ways begins to overcome some of the features of his past that led to his becoming a recluse.
The artwork is dazzling in its attention to detail but down-to-earth in feel, and mostly confines itself to a few locations that grow familiar to the viewer with time: the local park ("BEWARE OF MOLESTERS, Call 110 if you spot suspicious activities"), the train crossing, and the interior of Sato and Yamazaki's apartments. The scenes where Sato's furniture come to life and whisper about conspiracies are a little strange, but that's to be expected, perhaps, given the character's mental state, and is, to the show's credit, not overdone.
Dialogue is a strength of the show, I think, and rarely if ever goes over the top. In fact, on several occasions the story feels like a series of events with little dramatic connection, comparable, perhaps to "The Catcher in the Rye." Yamazaki brings this point home in episode 21 after Sato compares their lives to a drama. Yamazaki says, "A drama has a logical progression, outbursts of emotion and a resolution. Our everyday lives are just filled with nebulous and vague anxieties forever and ever." It's an interesting statement, suggestive of the notion that life--as we think about it, anyway--imitates art, rather than the other way around.
Another strength of the series involve Sato's encounters with unusual sides of modern Japanese society, in particular the anime-obsessed otaku culture, internet suicide pacts, video-game culture, and the destructive power of pyramid-schemes. Being emotionally vulnerable (some might say "gullible") and obsessive to a fault, Sato finds himself embroiled in situations that better sense and some self-esteem might have spared him, yet with the help of Misaki and Yamazaki is ultimately able to resolve.
While the ending felt a little flat, "Welcome to the N.H.K." proved very enjoyable, and was unlike anything I'd seen before. Would certainly recommend.
**Perhaps my favorite scene of the series takes place here (watch from 13:45-19:50). It's full of passion and absurdity, juxtaposed in an interesting manner that captures some of the show's humanity.
I'm referring here to the anime (24-episodes), not the novel or manga, neither of which I've read, and have heard are rather different from one another. That said, I recently watched the full series and came away with a very favorable opinion of it.
The story covers a year in the life of a reclusive 22 year old hikikomori named Tatsuhiro Sato, who through the help of some friends--Nakahara Misaki and Kaoru Yamazaki--goes through some pretty strange adventures, but in many ways begins to overcome some of the features of his past that led to his becoming a recluse.
The artwork is dazzling in its attention to detail but down-to-earth in feel, and mostly confines itself to a few locations that grow familiar to the viewer with time: the local park ("BEWARE OF MOLESTERS, Call 110 if you spot suspicious activities"), the train crossing, and the interior of Sato and Yamazaki's apartments. The scenes where Sato's furniture come to life and whisper about conspiracies are a little strange, but that's to be expected, perhaps, given the character's mental state, and is, to the show's credit, not overdone.
Dialogue is a strength of the show, I think, and rarely if ever goes over the top. In fact, on several occasions the story feels like a series of events with little dramatic connection, comparable, perhaps to "The Catcher in the Rye." Yamazaki brings this point home in episode 21 after Sato compares their lives to a drama. Yamazaki says, "A drama has a logical progression, outbursts of emotion and a resolution. Our everyday lives are just filled with nebulous and vague anxieties forever and ever." It's an interesting statement, suggestive of the notion that life--as we think about it, anyway--imitates art, rather than the other way around.
Another strength of the series involve Sato's encounters with unusual sides of modern Japanese society, in particular the anime-obsessed otaku culture, internet suicide pacts, video-game culture, and the destructive power of pyramid-schemes. Being emotionally vulnerable (some might say "gullible") and obsessive to a fault, Sato finds himself embroiled in situations that better sense and some self-esteem might have spared him, yet with the help of Misaki and Yamazaki is ultimately able to resolve.
While the ending felt a little flat, "Welcome to the N.H.K." proved very enjoyable, and was unlike anything I'd seen before. Would certainly recommend.
**Perhaps my favorite scene of the series takes place here (watch from 13:45-19:50). It's full of passion and absurdity, juxtaposed in an interesting manner that captures some of the show's humanity.
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