P.S. I'm breaking up with you

Japanese Valentine's Day is coming up soon!

Japanese Valentine's Day falls on February 14, and commemorates the day that Japan borrowed an annual tradition from Western culture. Japanese Valentine's Day differs from that western tradition primarily in that it is women who give chocolates to the men. A similar holiday, called "White Day," exists to let the men reciprocate, and occurs some months later. If a man wants to reciprocate, or in any way return the woman's feelings, before White Day, then TOO DAMN BAD.

Now, as a sex-negative militant male feminist, I'm categorically opposed to any and all expressions of romantic affection, but I think Japan's got the right idea. If love must exist, then it's certainly better for both sexes to have the opportunity to express it. And a holiday can help grant people the courage to do so, in part because it functions as a deadline.

The pressure of giving gifts is also lessened somewhat by something called "obligation chocolate," which women in Japan give to their co-workers regardless of their feelings. So on one side of the spectrum, we have gifts given without emotion, in a hollow miming of a lover's ritual. And on the other side, we have...



Click that. Read the text.

Holy shit, right? That's... thorough. I especially like the post-script, because apparently the copywriter thought there was some ambiguity left after those last few lines. "Oh, THAT'S what she meant by all that! For the first line, I thought 'heart' was a misspelling of 'tart,' and on the second line I thought 'to have a woman like me' meant 'as a friend,' and for the next two lines, I was blind and retarded."

That's another nice thing about a holiday; it lets professional writers express your emotions for you, even if they're intense to the point of near psychosis. Without that dessert and its accompanying text, you might have trouble expressing that depth of emotion in a positive way, and no guy wants to receive a Valentine's Day card that just says "If you reject me, my despair will poison the Earth."

+3 to Victory

On my trip to Nara, I bought a Buddhist charm from the temple. It's for "Victory and Success," it looks like this, and it's got me thinking.



Now, I'm taking for granted the these things work. They don't give me a glowing aura or make floating words appear when their effect takes hold, which would be useful from a user feedback standpoint, but those would be a bit obtrusive - and in a potentially sensitive situation, they would give away your advantage to anyone watching. So I can understand why an otherwise functional charm wouldn't be rich in feedback; consequently, there's no good reason to think that they don't work as intended.

What I'm thinking about is how they work. Not the in and outs of the magic itself, I mean, but how they function mechanically. Firstly, it seems safe to assume that the effects of the charms don't stack with other charms of the same type. I base this on the existence of the "wealth" charm. To justify its purchase, it necessarily has to provide the buyer with more than its price (500 Yen). But if the effects of multiple wealth charms stacked, even additively, then you could amass endless wealth simply by buying more and more wealth charms as your successive windfalls permitted it. An obvious game breaker.

It doesn't seem unreasonable that the effects of different charms stack with each other, however. The charm I bought, for "Victory and Success," would almost seem to be a catch-all, depending on how you define those two terms, so there mere fact that other charms exist should be evidence that their effects stack. As another example, what would be the point of a "Prevention from Traffic Accidents" charm if the "Good Luck" charm provided the same protection, from a broader array of misfortune?

It's also possible that their effects don't stack, and that Traffic Charms simply provide a larger benefit. Let's say the Traffic Charm provides you with 4 units of benefit, whereas Good Luck Charms provide you with one unit of benefit. If you only have the Good Luck Charm, your benefit to avoiding traffic accidents (as well as every other aspect of life where luck applies) is 1. If you equip the Traffic Charm AND the Good Luck charm, then, presuming they don't stack, your benefit to general good fortune is 1, and your benefit to traffic safety is 4. It's still smart to carry both charms, despite their effects not stacking.

And here's where some insight into the specific supernatural workings of the charms would admittedly go a long way. Does the Traffic Charm rely on luck manipulation, or is it a different brand of divine intervention? If the Good Luck and Traffic Charms use different kinds of "magic," then it's more likely that they stack. I'm inclined to think that the different charms apply different sorts of protection, particularly due to the charm that claims to "Protect Your Child From Every Evil." The claim is so absolute, it makes me doubt that the charm simply manipulates your child's luck whenever evil is involved. "Protection" and "Good Luck" are two very different things to begin with, as are "misfortune" and "evil." This leads me to believe that, although perhaps not every charm stacks with every other, certain charms do stack with others.

The "Protects Your Child From Every Evil" charm gives me pause, though, with regards to how the charms target. I'm reminded of Magic: the Gathering, in which "you," printed on a card, refers to the person who controls that card at the moment. If these charms are similar, then it is the parents who should hold the charm. But most of these charms are meant to be held by the person who wishes to benefit from their power. It's a very important distinction!

Well, at any rate, my charm seems to be in working order, so I'm not too worried. Selfish, I know, but with all the victory and success I'm going to be getting, I'll be able to recruit lackeys and toadies to be thoughtful on my behalf.

Yes.

What is Nara?

Nara is where deer live.



And you're not allowed to bother them, because they're messengers of God, according to local beliefs. With the exception of getting their horns trimmed, they get a free ride from the populace and government, despite posing a nuisance to the Nara ecosystem.

You'd expect their exalted status to make them into dicks, but they're pretty well-behaved. They're not afraid of humans, but they're not confrontational either.



And they're cute when they're small.



But all that changes when you go to a local merchant and buy a packet of deer crackers. The deer will mess you up trying to get at those crackers. They don't bother the merchants who sell them, interestingly, which suggests a certain conspiratorial cunning on their part.



Anyway, the temple was the real reason I was in Nara. This temple boasts one really big Buddha, which is maybe less impressive than a thousand regular-sized Buddhas. The deer stop following you when you get close enough to the temple, even though nothing obvious is preventing them from coming closer; near to that invisible threshold, I saw one deer that I thought might actually be a messenger of God.

It was old, or at least adult, with a single milky-white blind eye, and bowed at my approach. Well, it lowered its head, anyway, and when I bowed back, it did it again. In keeping with my principle of not photographic deformed animals, I didn't take a picture of the half-blind old deer.



Once inside the temple, I piggybacked on an English-language tour, because who the hell's gonna stop me? Anyway, all I really remember was that the Buddha, or at least this Buddha, can hold twenty-two children on his hand, whenever he needs to rescue children. Personally, I thought Gamera was the go-to guy for saving children in Japan.



Anyway, this temple is big, big business. If you're familiar with Japanese temples, you might know that you can blow a lot of money there on charms and souvenirs. But the temple in Nara has the added tourist hook of holy deer, and holy deer do they ever milk that for all it's worth. There's deer dolls, deer puppets, and Domo-kun in a deer costume. Not a full-size domo-kun mascot, I mean, just a little figurine you can hang on your phone.

I get the feeling that the Japanese people have already made up their minds about how they're going to observe their religions, and how "seriously" they're going to take them, and there's not a lot anybody can do about it besides throw up their hands and make a profit. And if every religion sold themed domo-kuns and assorted trinkets in their front hallways, do you think we'd have more holy wars, or fewer?

If anything should be taken seriously, it's helping out your fellow man. By donating blood, for example. Help me out on this one, Japan.




That'll do nicely.

A Cold Day in Kyoto

I'm actually in Japan now. Lots to report.

The flight was boring. Shut up about it, because nothing much happened. Except that I had the pleasure of flying from Tokyo to Kobe on a plane that was, judging by the way it shook, two or three flights away from retirement.

My first day there, though, me and the group went to Kyoto, which is some twenty minutes away. We arrived in the Kyoto station, which is sort of a mall, albeit one that is, for the most part, not what I would consider "indoors." "Under roof," yes, which is an important distinction when it's raining, which it was, but not so much when it's cold, which it very much extremely was.

Anyway, there was a cultural festival going on, in celebration of the thousandth anniversary of The Tale of Genji. It had on offer a number of cultural delights, including nature-themed mochi, carefully hand-made by an old man who was, himself, the careful handiwork of two other people.



And a picture that demonstrated how soy was processed in the olden days. This excerpt shows how pure happiness is processed as part of the procedure.




In the old days, human happiness was used, but today soy products mainly make use of humanely extracted clam happiness, hence the term "happy as a clam [before the extraction process]"

And some figurines from the Tale of Genji itself:



And this period scene, which is entirely edible provided you are willing to go to jail for gastro-theft.



Seriously, it was entirely made of food. From the station, we went to Sanjusangen-do Temple, where we were very lucky to see Toh-shiya, their annual all-Japan archery contest. Unfortunately, we got there after the female competitors had all done their thing. This was disappointing to me personally, because the only thing hotter than a girl that can kick your ass is a girl that can perforate your lung.





Then we went inside, where there was a Buddhist ceremony in honor of Kannon, the Thousand-Armed Goddess of Mercy. I wish I could show you pictures, but Kannon is still a little burnt about that camera company that kinda-sorta stole her name and consequently photography is prohibited. It's damn impressive, though, with a thousand statues of the Buddha, each with forty-two arms, each one holding a different tool, ready to help with any task. I sort of expected to see some modern versions of the statue holding Blackberries and computer manuals and such, but no, that shit does not fly in Sanjusangen-do, not one bit.

To reiterate: ONE THOUSAND STATUES OF THE BUDDHA. That's a lot.

From there, we went to a local shrine, which is different from a temple in, uh, a number of ways. Trust me on this.




I prayed for several things, and tossed in a hundred and fifty yen. On the way out, our guide pointed out a sign warning that people of my age should be careful of bad luck this year. I'm not sure I would have prayed at the shrine had I known that bad luck was part of the deal. I'm a little conflicted about it in retrospect, but as long as those Japanese deities can deliver on the lifelong love and prosperity I paid a whole 150 yen for, I'll weather a short-term storm.

And I capped the night with a green tea cappuccino at a local sweetery.



Tasty!

Counting down my checklist before I leave for Japan, I finally got out to Half Moon Bay! I'm based in San Francisco at the moment, and after playing(?) Rod Humble's Stars Over Half Moon Bay I told myself I'd head out there and trace lines in the sky.



Pretty cool place, actually. Erosion has created a series of tiny soil cliff faces overlooking the beach, and as I walked along the edge one particular gulf caught my eye:



What's that blue thing doing there? I skidded down the cliffside a little further down the beach and backtracked to find it. The entryway was pretty hard to find, actually; I'm not surprised no one's ever gone in there and looted that broken blue thing. I had to brace myself against the dirt walls to walk myself through, which would have been tricky enough in a place where the walls weren't studded with jagged rocks and the occasional scatter of broken glass.

Still, it was only a journey of a few feet, so I was in there pretty quick. And it was definitely worth it: that broken blue thing was a shattered globe.



It occurred to me to wonder where the piece with Japan on it was. It wasn't easy to find, but eventually I noticed a big shard deeper underground:



I dredged it up, and not only did it have Japan on it, but the presence of the USSR offered a clue as to the age of the globe.

By the time I got out of there, the sun had set, which means I had to leave or pay for overnight parking and find a person who would let me share their tent. I had scheduled a sexy misadventure already, so I made for the parking lot.

I was presented with an unnerving vision on my way back: a seagull with a deformed beak, like a spread of rigid tentacles, strolled the beach in front of me. I was about to snap a picture, but as I raised the camera, a trickle of drool fell from the lowest protrusion of the seagull's mangled mouth. Though that seagull doesn't have the capacity for embarrassment,it seemed wrong to make a spectacle of a creature that can't even close its mouth. Hence: no picture. Sorry, perverts.

I hope that seagull wasn't an omen, because I can't imagine it was a good one.

To Pack:

Toothpaste (no fluoride in Japanese toothpaste, it seems?)

Deodorant (the stuff they have simply isn’t powerful enough for American musk, I’ve heard)

Playstation 2 (all my other systems are a bit too heavy to make the trip)

Camera (unless I decide there won’t be anything interesting to photograph in Osaka, where I’ll be staying)

Extra Shoes (I will never find shoes in my size in Japan)

Forged Work Visa (note to self delete this entry)

Something Else That’s Illegal In Japan (dear me I can’t stop myself)

Attn: Dudes, Ladies

Dudes!

I’m going to Japan.

Ladies!

I just told the dudes I was going to Japan. They were quite favorably stoked.

It’s the truth! Back to Japan, actually. I took a ten-day trip there about a year ago. On my birthday, actually! I mean, the entire ten-day trip was not entirely on my birthday. That’d be some Groundhog Day shit right there. I flew out on my birthday. And it was the best vacation of my life, no question.

And that’s particularly saying something considering those ten days contained the worst hangover of my life. Shochu’s a powerful drink, and shochu plus catharsis can make for a harrowing night. Despite a heroic effort to stay upright and hydrated after the drinking was done, the machinery of my body ground itself to a sparking, squealing halt, only to reboot into a laser-bright world of pain.

I say it was my worst hangover ever, but I actually don’t remember a lot about that day. I suppose I drifted from blessed sleep to pukey reality, but my memory’s not razor sharp on that. To be honest, my forgetfulness is probably a big part of why I remember the trip so fondly.

Somehow I always knew I’d be back. Didn’t expect it to be so soon, though! I won’t spill too much about my circumstances, but suffice it to say it’s a temporary position. I should be back in the states in a few months.

Mmmm, that’s all for now.