He’s kind of the Grandmaster Flash of Japan, except he didn’t contribute anything to turntablism and he raps in the Tohoku (instead of Bronx) vernacular. Also, he includes kamishibai (link) in his lyrics, which I’m pretty sure Grandmaster Flash did not. He sure does have a Furious Five, though. Or maybe Fifteen..
Download your torrents via http: furk
I tried it. It was free and it worked as advertised. It probably isn’t an RIAA honeypot; they ain’t that smart.
The homebrew LCD hack didn’t work, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. My backyard repair dude rewired and replaced one old broken set of fluorescent tubes with old working (?) ones with some brilliant desoldering/resoldering skills and only charged me 80 baht, and I managed to get the monitor back together again without even having extra screws left over afterward, but it was all for naught. Sometimes you jess gotta say SHEEEEIT Clay Davis style. SHEEEEEIT!
Anyway, I’ll get around to taking new photos of Max the Destroyer and posting them from my laptop I guess; sorry it’s taking so long but I’m busy, busy, busy, and hate downloading photos to anything but my redundant archives (main PC) first.
I’ve really been out of the loop, but this was a really interesting read: Japan Pays Foreign Workers to Go Home
Even though the dumbass running the program can’t keep his racist views in check, I basically can’t see how having this choice is a completely bad thing. Sure, it’s insulting if you want to think of it like that, but hell – I know a lot of people who have needed to beg, borrow, or steal money to buy a ticket home when everything went wrong. And pride is a luxury for practical people.
Found this crazy story over at Monkeyfilter about a Vietnam vet who met up, through a series of highly impossible yet seemingly predetermined events, with the daughter of a man he killed during the war: One veteran heals through a battlefield keepsake
The accompanying video contains an unnecessary soundtrack but is heart-wrenching:
Yesterday, when we were walking back from seeing the only horse in the area (name: Happy), Max stepped on a piece of wood, lost his balance, and fell forward onto the street. I saw the moment of impact and saw him turn his head and arch his back at the last minute (good boy!) but when I picked him up, his mouth was filled with blood. Nam handed me a cloth diaper (which we only use as baby rags now) and I was able to clean up some blood and determine that he’d cut open his bottom lip with his tooth. He was crying a bit, but kind of stopped in shock as he tasted that sour metallic taste for the first time. The pungent smell of it made my heart race, too. We walked home quickly and cleaned him up in the shower. It’s swelled up a bit today, but it should be OK. He doesn’t seem to feel it.
I just can’t get his expression out of my mind, that moment when he looked at me not knowing what was happening, in pain but not really sure what was wrong. I’m pretty sure, in that moment, I could have, say, lifted a bus, or fought off a bear to help him. And Nam, who I saw brought to tears when he first started moving around and getting little boo boos, was totally solid.
So, any bears feel like screwing around with us?