The Japanese Thang (Rerun)

Maybe it’s because it’s a pile of rocks out in the ocean. I know about those.

The Japanese are always fascinating. Their culture is likely born of the hothouse- long periods of segregation from outside influences, like in a greenhouse, promote a lush growth, but also a delicacy that does not always translate into the greater world. And a fear of The Other.

They have produced some of the most interesting things to look at. Frank Lloyd Wright, among others, was greatly enamored of the Japanese style. Through reading about him, I was steered towards Hiroshige, and Hokusai. I never tire of Mount Fuji and cranes and waves when such as they churn them out.

What am I to make, then, of Kodomo No Kuni? Kodomo No Kuni (Children’s Place, or Children’s Wonderland) was a children’s magazine published in Japan from 1922 through 1949. And it’s beautiful and touching. And it’s disturbing, because it’s not disturbing at all.

I’ve always found that period of the 1920s and thirties fascinating. The world was becoming modern, in the true sense of the world, and various cultures and countries were trying to make sense of it. And no one got it wronger than the Japanese.

Everybody got it wrong, really. There were just varying versions of bad, and worse, and frivolous, and stubborn obsolescence. No one really understood what the enormous changes in technology and macroeconomics meant to the human race. Do we now?

If you look at the pictures of the children in Kodomo No Kuni, you can see how the artists are trying to convey a message about fitting in in a world that’s shifting rapidly. We in America still read Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel to our children as a nostalgia piece, but originally it was made to explain the newfangled world to a disoriented public. Time marches fast, and sometimes people rely on old thinking because they are adrift in events. The best things in culture help us to see the new things while standing on the shoulders of what has come before. Dynamism yoked to Traditionalism. Not Reactionaries and Deconstructivists, thanks.

The real problem is that old thinking is tarted up as the Next Big Thing all the time. The most antediluvian idea is presented as cutting edge by the same old busybodies. And the oldest idea in the world is “us against them” when the going gets rough or disorienting.

Even when wonderful things happen, the pace of change accelerates and makes people nervous. Nervous people are susceptible to the idea that there is a force behind everything, and that force is nefarious by its very existence, and since somebody designs everything, we might as well decide who that someone is and put him in charge. There is never a shortage of persons ready to tell you they’re up to the job.

The real problem is that human society isn’t really “run” by anybody anymore. Everything has long since become too complex for anybody to know very much about anything, never mind most things. But human beings always desire to see a face in what is formless. And to my way of thinking, people who see the hidden hand of human interactions and think: it must be a cabal, and we can run it better, are much more superstitious than any holy roller. At least the vast bulk of holy rollers ascribe to the idea that life, the universe, and everything is not knowable. It’s the fellows and ladies that say: “I can run the world better than the folks that do now” that worry me. Because “no one” is running the world now, and replacing “no one” with “someone” makes perfectly lovely people, raised in beauty and love and respect for others, like the beautiful children depicted in these amazing magazines, grow up and fly kamikaze planes into aircraft carriers when they’re done with the Rape of Nanking.

Read Kodomo No Kuni, and weep a little, perhaps, for those weaned on it who didn’t get to live in the world they saw in it.

Hammertime

Many of my readers are curious to see me at work, so I’ve decided to include a video of me building some sort of thing today. Surprisingly, I’m sure, I like to speak only German all day at work, for reasons that will remain obscure.

Also, for some reason, no doubt a defect in the camera, I am depicted inaccurately as a sort of dweebish continental with metrosexual highlights in my hair and theatrical looking smears of various construction detritus here and there on my person, instead of the ruggedly handsome visage and winsome persona I generally project.

Colon Day

I remember Columbus Day because I used to play music in a hundred and one bands anyone that would have me and try to make money to eat and get cigarettes and I don’t smoke and there still was never enough money and I played at a tee-totaling biker association party for two members’ wedding not gay a man and a woman that arrived on a motorcycle with the woman I think wearing a white Wedding Dress and no helmet and we played for one hundred sober bikers and ninety-nine of them were like accountants and one was like a serial murderer but they all looked exactly the same so you had to assume they all would kill you if they got the chance instead of the more likely thing that they’d do your taxes if you asked nice and I never played Born To Be Wild for a Wedding Song before and the bride’s father was in jail I think so she had to dance with the groom twice and the whole thing was held at the Italian-American Club on Gano Street in Providence but everybody calls it Guano Street for a joke haha and it’s a real long time ago but it might have been the Portuguese-American Club I don’t remember but I do remember it was Columbus Day and I went into the bar to get away from the sober biker accountants and that one serial murderer that were in the function room and it didn’t matter if it was the Italian-American Club or the Portuguese-American Club or the Knights Of Columbus Hall haha that would be funny but I don’t really remember but I distinctly remember a guy with a knife a real knife not a just a knife a dagger that came to a perfect point and didn’t fold or look like you could do anything wholesome with it it just looked one hundred percent like it was designed and made to gut a bass player and that guy held that knife right under my chin and explained to me in Portuguese that Cristobal Colon was Portuguese and don’t you forget it and my Spanish was very sketchy and Portuguese sounds like Russian to me not Spanish anyway but believe me I understood every damn word he said and I advise you all to answer the question did you know Cristobal Colon was Portuguese in the affirmative at all times.

The end.

Screen Test

You know, you can practice and try and suffer and work. You can cultivate your innate talent to as fine an assay as possible. You can have luck. And after all that, you can probably come in third on American Idol, or maybe get to read the news on the weekends in some rectangular state.

Then some other person appears, and looks so sketchy you wouldn’t rent an apartment to them without a year’s rent in advance; ten minutes later they show up on a red carpet somewhere clutching a statuette. You grumble when you notice that some people are just born to have the camera pointed at them. And that’s that.

Smore Oldish Nantucket

A place? An accusation? Blissfully before the grocer’s apostrophe reared its ugly head, anyway.

I defy you to take a picture of this Nantucket street without a person in it now. Can’t be done.

Cast iron palings, wrought iron rails. Mix Hunter Green in with Lamp Black to get the proper color to paint them. It looks black when the sun shines right on them. In the shade, the green hue appears.

Rapunzel got a pixie cut and moved in here.

The lost use of the louvered door. When houses front right on a pedestrian street, you can use a louvered door for privacy while allowing you to keep the inside door open. The breeze will come.
Coming or going or staying?

Month: October 2007

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