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 This isn’t a GBCW essay.  Rather it’s an “uh, can’t-we-be-a-little-less-orange-like?” essay.  Actually, not even an essay.  Just a thought or two, then I’ll see you later.  There are ways to get in touch with me directly, which a few of you know, and the rest can figure out, if you want to.  Just in case you want to correspond directly.

 Anyway, here’s the thing:  when someone works up an essay about, say, the wonders, culture and cuisine of Mexico City, it’s — in my book, by definition — Trollish to use that essay as a vehicle to rail against (the deservedly rail-againstable) corrupt government in one of Mexico’s outlying states.

 When, hypothetically speaking, someone works up an essay about the culture and history of the Sea Islands, it’s — in my book, and by definition — Trollish to use that essay as a vehicle to rail against the (deservedly rail-againstable) horrors of Jim Crow, hypocrisy of South Carolina’s Mark Sanford, or rather presumptuousness of North Carolina Vichy Dem Heath Shuler (who now wants to be minority leader).

 When, hypothetically speaking), someone works up an essay about the natural beauty of the islands off southern Thailand, or the ways in which they themselves are working to restore their battered tourist industry in the wake of the tragedy of the December 26, 2004, it’s — in my book, and by definition — Trollish to use that essay as a vehicle to rail against (the deservedly rail-againstable) loathsome crimes of child prostitution in Bangkok.

 While I’m repelled by those posses over at orange that jump all over any diary that, to them, smacks of anything less than laudatory of The One, I’m likewise disappointed when a diary about something worth celebrating in a state, a region, a country, is peppered with off-topic remarks about this or that awful aspect of the country that are actually tangential to the topic at hand.

 If among a group of friends I were to say, “By the way, Stan, I heard you just got a promotion.  Good for you.” I dare say that some (hopefully majority) part of that convivial group would be taken aback and be rather aghast if someone “from left field” said, “Yeh, Stan, I heard you had a drinking problem, too.  You pretty much suck, don’t you?”  I mean, while it may be true that Stan has a drinking problem, and it may be true that that sucks, and even causes heartache in the lives of his family, it’s not exactly the kind of thing you want to bring up in that otherwise congratulatory context.  I mean, not unless you’re an asshole.

 Well, please consider that when, as you’re reading the Comment Thread to current or future essay and you see such things. Rate as you see fit.  I hope, though, that “Ponies” would not be in the offing.  And let us emphasize that if, indeed, the tangential, tertiary-at-best comment does describe a real horror, then I’m not making light of the horror, I’m only saying the commentor should up and Write Their Own Goddam Diary and not try and highjack someone else’s.

 Good luck.  Godspeed.  Courage.

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Rashomon:(the south entrance gate to Kyoto) no longer exists.  It fell into decay and suffered and crumbled under the ebb and flow of many civil wars centuries ago.  But I’ve been to where it was:  now just a stone marker in a small playground, about a 5-10 minute walk from Toji Temple.  

“Rashomon” was also a film by Director Akira Kurosawa.  

I discuss the “Rashomon Effect” below.

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 I used to litigate.  No more.  I still keep a hand in “traditional” law with Will drafting, contract matters, employment policy drafting and consultation, etc., but I focus more and more on international business matching and related work.

 I say all that (in the preceding paragraph) to say, well, I used to litigate (I’m thinking this comment may just get turned into an essay).  And in litigation one quickly learns the practical side of what everybody instinctively knows about the Rashomon Effect:  people can see and experience virtually the same thing and, yet, see and experience very different things!

 This is why we have trials:  two witnesses to a car accident standing next to one another and both looking at the light at the same time.  One swears it was yellow and the other swears it was read.  The outcome of the thing depends on who the jury thinks is more credible.  Neither is lying; they both believe they’re telling the utter truth. So we have to (for example, through cross examination) test their respective perceptions.

 While there were and are as many varied viewpoints of Barack Obama, among those who viewed him favorably, who supported his candidacy in the fall of 2008, I see two general views that emerged (I actually saw this back then and diaried to some degree or another several times on this over at orange; I feel that my conclusions then have been confirmed countless times since then, right up to today):

  1. The Gateway.  He is a vehicle through which desired changes will come.  A conduit by and through which reforms will be made.  He is bright and capable and should be given (it was right, perhaps, to have given him) a shot at effectuating real, substantive progressive changes in government, economic priorities, and even to the American zeitgeist.  He has the brains, the background, the skills needed and the motivation to bring about the desired (by progressives, Democrats) systemic changes.

  2.  The Gate.  He himself is a person to be followed and implicitly trusted and believed in.  Whatever setbacks or (perceived) failings that may occur along the way would be (are, have been) owing either (a) to other people failing him and/or failing to have faith in him; or, (b) a misperception among critics and cynics that he has failed, when, in fact, nothing he does falls short of the mark and that his wisdom and vision should not be questioned; that he “gets” the Big Picture in a way and to a depth that his detractors cannot begin to understand (how can an ant in Alabama understand how the Taj Mahal was constructed?).

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 Well, need I go further?  

 I was there in Mile High Stadium in Denver when he gave his acceptance speech.  I got choked up many times over, not so much in listening to Barack Obama, but in seeing the tens of thousands of people who believed that he would usher in a new and better day for the United States.  Little did I really, really “get” that I was not seeing a unified body (except unified in the desire and determination to get him elected).  I was seeing people who, individual variations notwithstanding, who either believed he was an agent for change, or that he was The One.

 The light was Yellow, no, the light was Red!

                             

With my camera pointed at the People, not the Podium.

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Were they looking at a Gateway, or a Gate?

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Obama Signals Willingness to Compromise.

                                                                          Primary the SOB.

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I’m done, totally done, with him.  

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 This will be a relatively short essay.  No photos.  No links.  

 Someone brighter than me recently hit upon a simple but insightful truism regarding American “major party” politicians:  Republicans fear their base, Democrats hate theirs.

 Spot on.

 At least for the last generation, Republican politicians live in more or less constant terror that their base will rise up against them if they don’t take the hardest-Right, most frothingly partisan position available (or which they can create).  Or, if they’re already inclined towards John Bircherism, they cruise along in the smug assurance that they can be found with the proverbial “live boy or dead woman” and it won’t matter one whit to their forgiving base (as long as they, the politician, admit that he’s a sinner and rails against whatever the Democratic cause de jure is).

 Democratic politicians, on the other hand, treat their base like the crazy uncle who lives in the guest room and whose Social Security checks help pay the household bills.  They need them around in order to keep those checks coming in, but they live a life of dread and resentment:  dread that nutty Uncle Lonny will pick the lock on his bedroom door and shamble into the living room at the next dinner party and strike up conversations with the decent people in attendance, and resentment that they have to keep this burdensome and onerous relative around as the bills, alas, keep coming in and must be paid.

 Of course one of the ironies of this dynamic, of these relationships, is that these days the Republican base are much more likely to be radicalized, to resort to violence, to behave like political jihadists (which should embarrass or repel most people within shrieking distance), which your basic Democratic base member merely wants to be able to go to the doctor without risking bankruptcy, corrupt Wall Streeters to be held no less criminally culpable as petty pot dealer from whom he, the Wall Streeter, buys his grass, and wants gay people to not get beaten or bullied to death.  All in all, rather modest demands, as demands go.  Also, Democratic base members are more likely to spell check their placards before putting them on public display.

 Nevertheless, these principles hold true.  Thus the average Republican politician during the average election season has little trouble “firing up” his or her base because during the course of their life in public office, or, if they’re a newcomer, during the course of their campaign, they’ve said, “How high?” whenever their base has screamed, “Jump!”  The Democrat, on the other hand, has to “rally” their base and “fire them up” because during the course of their time in office they’ve kept that same base at arm’s length (at best) and when their Democratic base has yelled, “Jump!” their officer holder has said, “Sit down and shut up!.  And don’t forget to support me (read:  send money) come next election.  And don’t forget to vote!”

 So there you have it.

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 Happy Halloween.

 Of course while nothing’s scarier that the thought of “Senator O’Donnell,” “Senator Angle,” or “Senator Miller” (or, for that matter, “President Palin”) — there, did I make you just throw-up a little bit in the back of your mouth? — I do offer this:  an interview I had a few months ago with a mighty scary dude, the one and only Godzilla.

 Yep, I managed to get a sit-down with him in Tokyo, an interview, and, I hate to give this away right up front, found him to be not really the “monster” you see on film.

 Here (again) is the link to the whole shebang:  “The Godzilla Interview”.

 And here’s an excerpt:

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 You obviously feel very strongly about this. Is it CGI in particular, or something more?

Well of course it’s the CGI. First of all it looks fake. I can’t watch one of those pieces of plastic trash without standing up in the theater, you know – like the little boy in the Emperor’s New Clothes story? – and going, “Does anybody else here think this just looks like a cheesy, fake-o video game?!” (laughing) In fact, I actually did that one time, just recently. I think it was at first Transformers thing, a few years ago. I got applauded! Can you believe? Applauded! Then I walked out.

 They could’ve just been applauding you, you know. Recognizing a star in the audience and all.

Maybe. But my point is that none of the American studios are making films anymore, at least not decent Sci-Fi ones. Maybe some of the Indie stuff. Just crap that’s done on a souped-up Mac, far as I can tell.

 Besides your own, what films and filmmakers do you like from days gone by?

How long have you got?

First of all, I do like my films very much. I’m proud of them. Most of them. And even the clunkers have their moments. But as far as other films go. Eeeee, where do I start? I suppose (Japanese Director Akira) Kurosawa. I loved that man. Greatest regret of my life is that Toho would never let him direct me. Did you know that? They were afraid he’d bust the budget. (laughing) Sort of like Coppola and and Apocalypse Now, I suppose. Great film, by the way, one of my favorites, Apocalypse. Anyway, Kurosawa trained (Ichiro) Honda, who directed most of my films, many, maybe most, seems that way. I loved Honda-san, too. Great guy to work with. But I never got to work with several directors who were going strong back when I was in what I consider my “classic” time, Rosellini, Truffault, Hitchcock, Wells. And John Ford, of course. But it still comes back to Kurosawa for me. Do you think Michael Bay’s ever sat his ass down and watched, I mean really watched, Ikiru, let alone Heaven & Hell (released in the West as High and Low), that he gets, I mean really gets the Seven Samurai. I doubt it. If he has it sure doesn’t show….

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Things that go “Bump” in Japan

 So, this reprises (with updates) my last year’s “Halloween in Japan” post on my just-for-fun site/blog LetsJapan.Wordpress.com.  A personal story, Very Creepy art, some history and EVEN some bonus Ultraman (!).  And access to my This-Week-Only Halloween Special Photo Gallery.  Yes, more fun than a barrel of O’Donnells!

 Excerpt:

 

 “But ghosts and goblins and the creepy stories surrounding them have their own long tradition in Japan (as is the case in every culture).  Celebrated Edo Period wood block artist Hokusai (1760-1849) created a series of Kabuki-inspired “ghost story” prints around 1830, “Hyaku Monogatari”.  Above you see the print, “The Ghost of Koheiji”, based on an 1803 story-turned-kabuki-play by Santo Kyoden (poet, writer and woodblock artist).  Koheiji was betrayed and murdered by his wife.  So, naturally, he comes back from the dead to torment her and her lover by slipping under the mosquito netting around their bedding and joining and doling out horrific justice on them.”

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 Please feel invited to visit, comment, share and if you feel your skin crawling right out the door, remember, that’s either the thought of Koheiji’s skeletal remains, in ghostly form, lurking behind the mosquito netting, or you thought of the even more terrifying image:  Sharon Angle being sworn in as a U.S. Senator!  Nooooooooo!

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 I hope Ed Koch is wrong, if only for one reason:  the difficulty of getting anyone less than a Right Wing Mega-Corporatist Crank on the Supreme Court (should the occasion for a nomination arise) if the GOP takes the Senate.

 Otherwise, I’m ambivalent.  Even with a GOP House there won’t be enough of a Nutjob majority to pass truly crazy-ass legislation, and what may get puked forth from Capitol Hill from January 2011 through October 2012 won’t have enough support to override a Veto.  

I’ve done the research.

I’ve connected the dots.

Through painstaking investigation, surveillance, correspondence and even — I confess — a little ethics-bending chicanery, I’ve discovered the root of the Climate Change Hoax.  It is, indeed, a conspiracy.  The conspirators are an amoral, but dedicated, lot, indeed.  Here’s how they do it:

Every third Tuesday of the month representatives (along with various subordinates, mid-level managers, staffers and hangers-on) from  NASA, the University of Maine Climate Change Institute, the American Geophysical Union, the National Association of Insurance Commissioners, NOAA, the Japanese Cabinet, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the Canadian Meteorological and Oceanographic Society, Lloyds of London, the European Union, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, the European Science Foundation, the American Meteorological Society, the EPA, the Vatican, Tokio Marine & Nichido Fire Insurance Company, the G8+5, the Asia Development Bank, Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the American Society for Microbiology, the Royal Society of New Zealand, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute, the Department of Energy, the United Nations (of course), the American Chemical Society, the World Health Organization, Munich Re (reinsurance corporation), United Methodist Women (the organization by that name), the University of New Hampshire Climate Change Research Center, the American Institute of Physics, the Association of British Insurers, International Council of Academies of Engineering and Technological Sciences, the Australian Coral Reef Society, and the vast majority of the world’s climatologists all get together at Bob and Sherry’s house in Bethesda, Maryland, for veg/vegan potluck and debrief regarding their previous month’s progress and map-out the coming month’s plans for promoting their “climate change” myth.  Of course the ultimate goal is to sucker Congress into giving more money to their nefarious cabal.

Note:  the foregoing list of conspirators is incomplete.  

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Semi cross-posted at Huffington Post.  

Good riddance to bad rubbish.  

For years (literally) I’ve noted what a cretinous NPR’s Juan Williams is. If the asscranks over at Orange Admin haven’t erased/deleted all my archived Diaries, you’ll be able to find plenty of writings that back up this assertion.  Williams has always been unimpressive, at the least:  a shallow and superficial interviewer whose “insights” and “analysis” were mere dabblings in either the obvious or recapitulations of Right Wing spinning points.  Over at Orange I noted many times over the degree to which Juan Williams just about peed himself with simpering and worshipful excitement when he “interviewed” (read:  fawned over) Dick Cheney about 5 or 6 years ago.  

Well, finally, finally, this poseur, this underwhelmer, this poster child for much of what’s wrong with so-called “journalism” in today’s America, got his comeuppance:  NPR’s fired Juan Williams for over-the-top and, well, just dumbass proclamations (confessions of TeaKKism) about Muslims.  TeaKKism.  Yeh, I know that Williams is a person of color.  That’s part of the irony.

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NPR Fires Juan Williams for Muslim Remarks on Fox  

“On Monday, O’Reilly asked Williams if there is a “Muslim dilemma” in the United States. The NPR analyst and longtime Fox News contributor agreed with O’Reilly that such a thing exists, and added that “political correctness can lead to some kind of paralysis where you don’t address reality.”

“‘I mean, look, Bill, I’m not a bigot,’ Williams continued. ‘You know the kind of books I’ve written about the civil rights movement in this country. But when I get on the plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they are identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous.’ . . .”

You know that there’s a racist or like-kind remark coming whenever someone starts off a sentence with, “Well, you know I’m not a bigot/prejudiced, but . . .”

Of course, he’s got his buddies and his sinecure at Fox to comfort him.  This jerk will never worry about having to pay a bill.  These foul people take care of their own.

My only beef with NPR is that they kept this narrow-minded panderer to the Right Wing on its payroll for as long as it did.

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