(... so that title didn't work out as well as I thought it would. Is that ironic, or just me being stupid?)
Ok, to preface: I'm pretty sure that this winds up happening 99% of the time, to all foreign cultures and languages represented in American media (or really any media that attempts some sort of foreign representation, regardless of what their idea of foreign is... not that there's a right idea, or even a good idea, really), but as I am most familiar with the culture and language of Japan, that's where it gets noticed on this particular blog, thank you.
Ahem.
So.
You decide that the characters in your show (cartoon, sitcom, radio play, whatever) are going to Japan for some reason or other. Maybe there's a giant, evil squid roaming the waters of Lake Biwa, or someone has a relative in the vicinity of Hokkaido. Great. Dandy. Have at it, Japan is nice. Everyone should visit.
... but.
But.
When you cannot do even the bare minimum of research required to make your little jaunt to Japan seem plausible?
A small part of my soul dies.
Yes. Dies.
So you have Japanese natives wandering around. Great!
... why do they speak with accents roughly equivalent to those found within first year Japanese courses in Wisconsin? You'd think they would have a grasp on the phonological nature of their own language, not to mention the ability to construct sentences at a level even slightly above that of basic Genki I exercise material.
Please note that this is not a shot at my favorite language textbook series.
You'd at least think they could manage to pronounce Tokyo properly. Seeing as how they live there and everything (in most cases). It's two syllables people, not three. You're going to have a hard time convincing me that all of your characters are actually from some remote island of the coast Akita where they can't manage the monosyllabic "kyo" syllable because of their centuries-long separation from the mainland.
... although that would be pretty awesome.
And a quick note, because people really shouldn't do this anywhere, let alone Japan: don't touch strangers. People do not touch in Japan like you may have seen done in good ol' America. Hugging is not big. Kissing? Oh god why.
If you stop and kiss a random Japanese boy on the streets of Akihabara, he will not happily respond when you ask for directions immediately after. Mind, I have never tried this, but based on first hand experience, when you're obviously a foreigner and you just cut off some dude's escape route with unwanted physical contact, he will most likely:
(a) freeze and not speak until you're very far away (b) gibber for a moment before fleeing at top speed, or (c) spontaneously combust.
You might get away with it if there was alcohol involved, but that's still pushing it a bit.
I admit, I saw this on an episode of Teen Titans my sister was watching, and super hero shows do tend to get a bit more slack. I even think the girl doing it was an alien, thus her cultural insensitivity may have been handwaved easily enough.
The show's, however... Sigh.
I may have been missing the point here, but unfortunately the above-mentioned scene also gets into sexual assault taken for funsies, which is a particular issue in Japan (grope-and-run, anyone?), and in general a problem that gets me up in arms. So, yea. Edo does not approve of your teenage silliness.
... BACK ON TOPIC.
Yes, of course I know that most viewers don't realize what's going on when Japanese culture is being bastardized (or even bowdlerized... but that's another rant) for their entertainment, because most don't spend their academic career studying it. That's ok. What's not ok is that the creators, researchers and directors of these various shows/movies/whatevers seem to think that it's ok to feed stereotypical, insensitive, and occasionally downright insulting representations of foreign cultures to Americans day in and day out.
The year is 2011, and we can't even mange a bit of international understanding? Really?
If it's so much trouble to do your research, have your damn super heroes fight a giant robot in Michigan, all right?
I was originally going to add a bit more to this rant, referring to the English translation of a Boys' Love manga no less, but I need to do a bit of research first so I don't wind up looking like a hypocritical buffoon.
.... But Edo! I hear you cry. You do that every day. Har har.
Not so witty if I say it first, is it mister comedian?
This is Edo, signing off with a healthy dose of righteous anger in her heart.
Not, of course, in the human sense. Visitations of the human variety don't often rank up with what I consider to be blog-worthy material.
(Admittedly, however... Me, personally, receiving any sort of personal visit at this juncture might be so completely unexpected and out of the ordinary as to merit some mention... Um.)
It was a lizard. From the desert.
A colorful one at that.
There he is. Hey, little dude.
Places to go, concrete to cover.
Now, I'm sure you're aware that a lizard in the desert is not, usually, a note-worthy occurrence.
A lizard on the porch? Maybe.
A lizard on my window sill scrabbling for entry? Yea, we have news here people.
Yo.
... so I may be blowing it a little out of proportion, excitement-wise, but hey. Wild animals are cool.
Yea, you're a regular ninja with that camera, man.
Dude's a budding interpretive dancer.
Anyway. As he came, lingered, then inexplicably left all in the space of a Monday morning, I have yet to discover what, exactly, he was doing. Lizards aren't very good with that whole courtesy note thing.
Hi,
Nice window you got here. Just thought I'd drop by, look around.Maybe chill in the shade for a bit.
You should probably change out that toothbrush, you know.
Sorry to disturb.
-The Lizard
Not so much. Writing must be a real bitch without thumbs, after all.
Toodles.
Thus, left, as I am, bereft of any sort of explanation for this reptile's strange behavior, I am forced (yes, forced) to come up with some hypotheses.
And hey, who am I supposed to share them with?
....The Dalai Lama isn't returning my calls, so second choice it is.
Theory 1
The lizard was hot, and the shade of the porch combined with (maybe?) some residual air-conditioning coolness creeping out the windows made my sill the idyllic little reptile getaway for a mid-morning break.
Boring? Utterly. Plausible? Sadly. Reality has a distressing lack of imagination, sometimes.
... it also has a certain negative connotation when it comes to energy efficient window moorings. Hm.
Theory 2
The lizard was the designated explorer of his people, sent out to investigate the strange, flat shiny thing wedged into what, for all lizard intents and purposes, is no more than a large, funny-shaped rock that large pink things go in and out of regularly.
He was to examine, take notes, and report back immediately should this turn out to be of more interest or use than "oh, yea, that shiny thing."
More interesting? Yes. Plausible? I don't know, I am not at all familiar with lizard infrastructure. You tell me, mister fancy-pants herpetologist.
Theory 3
This lizard was, in fact, the Harbinger of Doom and Prophet of Despair.
This was, after all, the morning of the day when I received my "Congratulations on being an alternate!" letter from MEXT. Maybe he was trying to warn me. Or, conversely, had mistimed his arrival to revel in my personal Doom and Despair. Sucks to be him, then.
I'm... not going to touch this one. I don't like the idea of my fate being handled behind beady black eyes and decorative head-crests.
Theory 4
The lizard was not, in fact, a lizard at all, but was a beautiful man who had been cruelly transformed into a small reptile against his will by an evil force bent on stealing his power and wealth! While I was busy taking picture and marveling at nature, I was in fact dooming a man to live a cold-blooded life forevermore and missing out on the beginning of my very own personal 少女 (shoujo, girl) manga adventure!
...
NOOO DON PABLO!*
(It's a 少女 manga, after all, so he's delightfully, if inexplicably and unreasonably, European. No, no, don't ask why, that just ruins it.)
Who knew that my camera would be such a horrible sealer of fates. The Luddites may have a point.
*This is actually Jang Keun-Suk, or チャン・グンソク (Chan Gunsok, kinda) as I first knew him (Japanese does strange things to Korean names. Or maybe English does. My Korean pronunciation is absolute rubbish, someone want to help me out? Here's the Hangul: 장근석) He was appearing on the cover of everything in late April of this year in Japan, and I credit him with being the prettiest man alive. I mean seriously. Look at him. Good lord.
In the end, we will likely never know why, exactly, a random lizard decided to crawl onto my porch, camp out for a bit, and peep into my bathroom.
But without rampant and at times unnecessary imagination, where would my blog posts humanity be?
This is Edo, signing off wondering how many herpetologists actually read her blog and are currently tearing out their hair in frustration at her willful ignorance.
Or maybe it's math and East Asian studies. Anyone out there an East Asia/Mathematics double major? I'm just looking to be shown the light over here.
Because, well...
I was in higher level calculus in high school. The highest mathematics course offered by my high school, in point of fact, and I did very well in that class--without any unreasonable effort on my part, I might add. Sure, there was homework, which admittedly was something of a first for me outside of essays and summer projects, but that was more a product of the teaching style (which was not bad by any means, simply intense) than my lack of comprehension (which could be remedied by asking questions in class, ten times out of ten.)
Why am I saying this?
Because the quantitative reasoning section of the GRE (or the practice thereof, at any rate) is kicking my sad behind.
My only consolation is that I am, in the opinion of at least a few people, slightly more attractive than this man despite my confusion.
My understanding of geometry and algebra have devolved to be about roughly on par with my understanding of modern Swahili.
... or maybe not. I think I did pick up a few words of Swahili thanks to any number of examples in introductory linguistics.
Regardless.
I cannot help but think that I was not really being all that clever when I maneuvered around my college math requirement by taking a computer science course.
... admittedly, it was a very interesting course which I enjoyed despite having a lab on Friday afternoons. That's saying something, that is. I doubt I would have felt the same about any traditional mathematics course, and no mistake.
And then again, perhaps in my knowledge-cramming sessions for my two history courses, my brain felt rushed and decided that it was easier to simply purge this (seemingly) useless information in favor of these newly vital facts than to bother with rooting around in storage and making more space the sensible way.
Thus, I now have extensive knowledge of Nobunaga, Hideyoshi's (possible) syphilis, the Battle of Sekigahara, China's troubled history of attempting to conquer Korea every time it had enough people to do so, the Rig Veda and so on... all that the cost of trigonometry, angles, and what the hell I'm supposed to do with π.
... and what do I do? I write to you lot about it when I could be attempting to cram more numbery things into my head.
But really. I'm applying to East Asian Languages and Literatures programs. If I am required to be ridiculously talented in the mathematics department for admission, well... Let's just say I'll have a few words to say about the state of higher education in the modern world.
Ahem.
And come on, how many math geeks know a thing about the Three Kingdoms of Korea? Huh?
This is Edo, signing off trying to justify her own ignorance with righteous anger.
I apologize for having nothing amusing to say on this particular occasion, but sometimes even I can't be snarky.
You may remember that I posted about Kagrra, an amazingly innovative band with a truly unique sound and appearance. They are definitely among my favorites.
I am greatly saddened by vocalist Ishii's death, which I feel horrible for only having learned about today. The cause remains unknown, but that's not important right now. What's important is that the world has lost a truly brilliant man whose absence in the music community is a great, great loss.
Cayce at the Blog-Tick Phenomenon provides a much better post about this than I do, and for that I apologize to everyone reading this.
Again, I fear I am the last with the news, but X-Japan's Taiji has also passed away. Those who are fans of X-Japan and/or hide know that X-Japan has had its share of tragedy in the past--it seems brutally unfair of the universe to inflict more upon them now. In this case, I'll let Yoshiki's statement take over, because I really cannot do anything like this justice. (It's in English.)
More locally, Amy Winehouse has also passed away. I was not familiar with her work nor her personal life, but there appears to be a truly disgusting and pervasive nonchalance expressed in regards to her death. There is no excuse for this.
I am not a religious, or even a spiritual person, but as always, I think the dead deserve our reverence, even if only for a moment. All three of these musicians contributed to their respective fields in ways we will not soon forget.
Always take the time to remember those who have passed on. They deserve that much, at the very least.
I apologize once again for sounding so trite and rehashed, but unfortunately, I am not well-equipped to deal with this sort of tragedy in written form.
Well, I've come to realize why it is so difficult for me to produce regular content as compared to, say, Joe Schmoe personal blogger elsewhere on the internet.
(I do not actually know if there is a Joe Schmoe blog out there somewhere, but if someone does find it, feel free to link in the comments. Because I am nothing if not willing to waste time on the internet.)
The problem is, these people post about their lives. Their average, daily lives. Because people are interested, and still read despite the fact that they aren't, say, doing intensive reporting on this bad or that TV show.
And I say, why can't I do that? Why can't I serenade you with tales of my thrilling sedentary life, spent job-searching and attempting to discover just what the hell I'm going to do with myself?
Probably because I haven't ingratiated myself yet for you lot to care. That's why.
So alas, I'm in a pickle. I've become rather sick of posting about random Japanese cultural topics, because I'm sure that at least fifty percent of my audience (at present) is related to me by blood and would read my blog if I suddenly developed an interest in writing full-length editorials about yak-herding in Mongolia and just how one should best decorate a yurt to make full use of available natural light.... and therefore I'm not even catering to the masses when I spend hours writing up nice, detailed posts about my favorite bands/TV shows/crossdressers/ridiculous puns that make no sense when you think about them, really.
Thus begins the reign of the supremely inconsequential, yet, perhaps, slightly amusing to you, my very, very specialized readers.
I really don't know why you're even here.
So. Today's thought.
I think that Ai (from DEATHGAZE) has an absolutely stunning voice. Deep voices in general tend to make my toes curl, as it were, but his is something else.
You wouldn't think a song titled "The Stench of Death" would sounds so nice, would you?
I admit that's probably a slightly loaded translation, but I like the irony of it.
Especially since at least fifty percent of you can't understand the lyrics. Thus, beautiful mood dissonance. For those of you can can understand... oh, just play along, please.
And no, don't know what that means. If I had to understand what a song's saying to like it... well. Let's just say that I'd have to hate everything Imai's ever written.
... and what the heck. It's my blog.
I really like this video.
For the faint of heart, again, this is not for you. Stick with the three songs above, and for the love of your poor eardrums, don't click play.
I still think that Ai looks nicer with black hair, though.
And you really don't get the full experience until you see how ridiculously flamboyant he is on stage. Not to mention overheated--man wore long sleeves at both lives I attended, both of which had me sweating in the audience without the help of burning stage lights and nearly so many layers. But then, I guess that's what makes you a true V-kei band, eh?
This is Edo, signing off saying "nyer nyer, it's my blog, I can do what I want."
WARNING: POSSIBLY FUTILE AND DEFINITELY AGGRAVATING LINGUISTIC RANT AHEAD.
So it's a bit of a divergence, shall we say, from my regular fare. Nary a reference to Japan, land or culture, in sight. (Yes, I thought of the pun, considered it, and ultimately discarded it. You get no points for spotting it second.) But according to my blog's description, located conveniently to your right at this very moment, this blog is, in fact, dedicated to all of my (subjective terminology) interesting thoughts.
Quite frankly, you people should take what you can get. Look at that update schedule. Yeesh.
Anyway, on to the main event.
It may be quite obvious to you, my devoted readers, that the English language suffers abuse on a daily basis. Yes, some liberal-minded linguists argue in favor of evolution, speaking favorably of the constant flow and change of a living language and, quite frankly, being a bit too loosey-goosey for my tastes.
Thus, I have decided to begin a series (which I assuredly shall wish to append and embellish during the entirety of my English-speaking life, despite a lack of ambition or will to do so in actuality) detailing some... points of contention. Lessons, if you will, for those less... precise than I.
Feel free to bandy these about, refer agrammatical friends to this post, or simply roll your eyes and move on to the next entry. (Of course, should you be inclined to do something not in this list, please do not let my limited time frame and lack of effort limit your creativity.)
Lesson 1. "Literally" vs. "Figuratively"
I'm quite sure that this was brought to my attention via a third party, but unfortunately I have no idea what or who said third party actually was. Such are the failings of the human mind, alas. However, despite the lack of originality in this original complaint, my feelings are not diminished in the slightest.
It seems that our good friend, "literally," is being abused.
You see, we speakers of the English language often use metaphor, simile, and hyperbole to pepper our speech and make conversation more interesting for all parties involved. English speakers are not alone in this habit, but let's keep the subject here in my native language for the sake of simplicity, and because I have no idea if this problem has ventured outside of the Anglocentric world.
Now, when we use these aforementioned forms of speech, we are, by definition, not speaking literally.
Example: The frustration caused by my constituents' apparent semantic confusion made me see red.
This sentence expresses how the speaker's frustration causes her to feel no small amount of anger. "To see red" is a well established phrase in the English language meaning, of course, to become angry, or, on the more extreme end, to lose control. While the phrase's origins are debated, one can safely assume that most people (excluding perhaps certain synesthetes) do not actually see red when they become angry.
Thus:
Example: I literally* saw red when he told me I had to work overtime with no extra pay.
Unless the "he" in question was waving a red cape during his less than savory edict or the speaker herself has a rather distressing neurological problem that would be best discussed with her local neurologist, her use of "literally" is blatantly incorrect (and, coincidentally, infuriating) in this situation.
Now, one may argue for hyperbole. I argue that "literally" is then butchered and loses all meaning outside these shoddily constructed formations that would be better left on the side of the road than in any respectable individual's lexicon.
"Literally," after all, is very important in modern language, specifically because so many phrases can be interpreted as either literal or figurative. Oftentimes these phrases aren't meant literally, and would be quite silly in any sort of literal interpretation (the colloquial "what's up?" comes to mind), but there are occasions when the addition of "literally" is vital to the listener's understanding of the speaker's intent.
Example: That migraine injection was a literal pain in the ass. (Implication: the injection was given to the speaker in the buttocks.)
In this case, the speaker uses the word "literally" in order to convey that, while the shot may have been a figurative "pain in the ass," it was also a literal one as it was administered, we can assume, to the derriere.
However, if we abuse "literal" and "literally" as in the penultimate example above, sentences like this will become absolutely meaningless, and we will be forced to invent (or allocate meaning appropriately to) a new word entirely to serve the semantic gap where "literal" has so recently been unceremoniously yanked.
In short, take a moment to think before embellishing your sentence with a meaningless "literally." Some of us need that word, sans meaning bastardization.
And yes, I know some of you may have read contemporary articles concerning this very issue, some even going so far as to say that "literally" has had its meaning morphed into "not literally" in common conversational usage. Apparently some even cite an example in The Great Gatsby, but I fail to see how improper usage of a word once in the early 20th century makes its continued misuse any more valid today. After all, they thought that heroin was a great cough syrup in the early 20th century, so let's just say it's not the best time for intellectual hindsight. (Besides, I hateThe Great Gatsby.) Frankly, I'm just not ready to see "literal" suffer the same fate as "inflammable", dear readers, not yet.
This is Edo, signing off hoping that she wasn't too pretentious to bear this time around.
... ok, ok, I admit, this topic is just a little too "out there" (not to mention infuriatingly preachy and irritating) to let the post slide into publication without a little something for my devoted readers who are less-than-interested in modern linguistic debate. I apologize, dears, and present this peace offering.
How can you be mad at me after DJ Ozma, after all?
And since I think the live version really gives you a better feel of the song and just how interactive it is (despite its lack of helpful lyric subtitles)...
If you've only time for one of these videos, I recommend the latter. Unless, of course, you have some interest in a (very) brief interview and banter of debatable wittiness on Utawara. Then... you should probably make the time to watch both.
(Unfortunately AVEX, stingy bastards that they are, took down the original live video I wanted to show you. Thus, you get the version with... inexplicable alien/robot Ozmas. Oh, well.)
And therefore sources of knowledge are veritable wells of real-world experience points.
Never say I didn't make it interesting.
Anyway, during my day-in, day-out Japanese study extravaganza, I am discovering more and more how very helpful being interested in many different facets of Japanese culture (classical and pop) can be for one's vocabulary.
Even when it comes to high-level JLPT stuff. Who knew, right?
Thus, as a way to escape from studying amuse you dear readers, I thought I'd make a list of the more notable/useful/surprising bits of vocab I've gained on my travels through Japanese culture.
Number 1: 嘘がばれた - get caught in a lie Source: Daily conversation/modern slang
Number 2: ～たて - just (finished/completed/done) ~; i.e. できたて, just finished Source: 焼き立てジャパン！！
Especially when you, like me, have a stomach prone to stress and thus a near constant case of indigestion beginning from the submission of the application and lasting until some undetermined point at which I will decide that there is no longer any need for stress in my life.
... that may be, in fact, when I am dead.
I have been, after all, stressed almost constantly since I decided to apply for this thing. You know, as separate from the stress stemming from my regular bouts of existential crisis, paranoia, and general feelings of dread about the future.
... but, quite frankly, if I'm not stressed, I don't feel that I'm accomplishing anything. So, while this may be horrible for my upper digestive tract, it really is good for my overall mental wellbeing, no?
... oh, well.
How about some nice, classic BUCK-TICK to make up for the decidedly dull and dreary nature of today's post?
This video, which I believe is from 1989, documents three very important things:
1. That BUCK-TICK was indeed, at one point, popular enough to be on television, despite what you may hear.
2. That Imai was always a little terrifyingunintelligibleunique.
3. That Toll's truly remarkable hatred of change was established very early on in his career.*
*For those of you who aren't fangirls not in the know, this was very soon, if not immediately after the band's "hair spring" debut period. Look who didn't get the new hairstyle memo.
It also demonstrates that signs of Atsushi's "woman" stage were evident as early as '89, but we all know about that.
This is Edo, signing off wondering if it's better to be stressed with or without "Dress" stuck in your head.
PS- Damn it, I said this, thought it was clever, and can't bear to see it lost so quickly in the ether:
"I have dreams about being called 'Doctor'...and believe that sonic screwdrivers should come standard issue with every PhD."
Well, you skip a week of posts, that's laziness, but you skip an entire month (ok, and then some) and I think it evolves into something like commitment, don't you?
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Anyway, what with the moving back to America-land, applying for the MEXT research scholarship (application sent off last Friday, thank you for asking), and the daily grind of kanji-studying, novel-reading and Wii-exercising, my life has slowly devolved into a daily humdrum not exactly conducive to thrilling bouts of bloggery.
Succinctly put: no ideas, no posts, kids.
So in the interim, I thought I'd share a refreshing bit of fashion-feminism with you all. Because if I can't be amusing, I can at least be supportive of the counter-heteronormative, yes?
Down with conformity! Oppose the skankily-bedecked public image! Declare your existence as separate from faceless sexist drudgery! FIGHT THE POWAH!
Yup.
This is Edo, signing off not feeling nearly as guilty about this whole blog-neglect thing as she probably should.
PS- Let it be said that I know next to nothing about high fashion (since I don't think ロリタ系 and Vivienne Westwood really count), nor do I really find myself anything like entranced by clothing that makes my frugal soul hide and cry under the bed. I just like to see people doing things that fight the heteronormativity running rampant and unchecked in our society. Right? Right.
I also like getting my thesis-buzz-word out there as much as possible. Boo. Yaka.
An overly opinionated, 20-something liberal arts graduate on a MEXT research scholarship in Kyoto, aiming to eventually break into academia, and painstakingly writing down all the interesting thoughts she has along the way.
