Monkey’s Uncle

As in, mean ol’ uncle Pete:
“New” giant ape found in DR Congo
Somewhere, Michael Crichton is raising a glass of wine and thinking, “I told you so.” And I for one give him full props – he even got the country right! It sounds like the primatologist, Shelly Williams, got extremely lucky she didn’t end up like Misulu:

Something struck him lightly in the chest. At first he thought it was an insect but, glancing down at this khaki shirt, he saw a spot of red, and a fleshy bi of red fruit rolled down his shirt to the muddy ground. The damned monkeys were throwing berries. He bent over to pick it up. And then he realized that it was not a piece of fruit at all. It was a human eyeball, crushed and slippery in his fingers, pinkish white with a shred of white optic nerve still attached at the back…
…And he saw Misulu. Misulu lay on his back, in a kind of halo of blood. His skull had been crushed from the sides, the facial bones shattered, the face narrowed and elongated, the mouth open in an obscene yawn, the one remaining eye wide and bulging. The other eye had exploded outward with the force of impact.

Bad, bad monkeys!

Capoeira: Getting Inverted

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Yesterday we went to a capoeira meet at the Budokan at Sumiyoshi Taisha in Osaka. We were invited by Adam’s pal from Kumamoto, Luke. We were supposed to meet other friends there, but they ranked because they are weak/married, etc.
Luke is a fascinating man who was born in South Africa and has travelled around the world studying various forms of martial arts. He has the kind of posture, a way of movement, that says: Hardcore. Basically, he was more focused than most of the instructors that showed up for the meet, and that impressed the hell out of me.
This being my first exposure to capoeira (commonly defined as an Afro-Brazilian dance form that incorporates martial arts moves), I brought along my aging camera and did some damage. Check out the extended entry linked below for the rest of the photos.

Continue reading “Capoeira: Getting Inverted”

Hi, Huck!

Huck is coming to Japan next week. I’m going to make everyone practice their greetings in English in big, loud voices so Huck will be happy to meet them!
I am such a good host. I feel like the future of East-West relations lies in my hands… CRUNCH! Ooops! I killeded it mama, I killeded it! Waaaa!

Yet another typhoon

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Is it just me, or is God doing his best to wipe us pesky humans off the planet this year? This week’s typhoon (the swirly white butthole above) is called #22 in Japan and my guess is that they ran out of semi-real name sounding names and are just making random shit up now because its official name is “MA-ON.” Come on weathergeeks, that’s not even trying. “MA-ON” sounds like what an oppressed Vietnamese sweat shop worker moans the morning after a full bottle of Mekong whiskey or something.
Speaking of which, I recently received a bottle of Johhny Walker Red as a gift. Some gift, huh? Maybe I’ll dye the label blue and pass it off to some unsuspecting teetotaler as a housewarming gift or something… I won’t even use bad scotch for cooking meat, that’s how highly I rate Johnny, Chivas, Pipers, and the rest of that crap. And for all you Asian Scotch hounds, I must ask one question: If it tastes so fucking wonderful, why do you dilute it with water?
Real men drink Spirytus.

Apologize, fucker.

I caught a guy walking off with my umbrella during lunch break. I was like, hey yo what the fuck, that’s my umbrella. The guy knew I had him, but decided to weakly claim it was his umbrella. Yet he did not protest when I snatched it out of his hands and left him in the rain. Asshole.

Glazed Pilgrim with a side of Mawmenny, please

Check out this article on Slate today:
Historical Fiction
Quote:
“While a Medieval Times castle seats anywhere from 900 to 1,500 people a night, and the Excalibur’s Tournament of Kings about 2,000 (a thousand at each seating), no present-day medieval feast comes even close to approaching the enormity of some of the Middle Ages’ heavy-hitters. We don’t know exactly how many people attended the marriage feast of Henry III’s daughter in 1251, but we do know that they gorged on 1,300 deer; 7,000 hens; 170 boars; 60,000 herring; and 68,500 loaves of bread. Feasters at the enthronement party for England’s Archbishop of Neville in 1465 consumed 1,000 sheep; 2,000 pigs; 2,000 geese; 4,000 rabbits; and 12 porpoises and seals. No less than 11,000 eggs were eaten at a 1387 feast for Richard III.”
12 porpoises and 12 seals, or 12 combined? Greenpeace demands to know.