Category: Society & Culture

Famous Japanese Americans

This post actually started off as an update to my previous post because I had forgotten to mention one of my newest finds.
Guy Kawasaki has started a blog: Let the Good Times Roll
He’s kind of an idol for business-minded Japanese Americans, along with Robert Kiyosaki. Politically-minded JA’s are probably more into Senator Inouye or Congressmen Matsui/Honda (or in Hawaii, George Ariyoshi, the first JA governor of a US state. Also, in Los Angeles this might be Paul Tanaka, the current Mayor of Gardena and assistant Sheriff). Academics? Francis Fukuyama or Michio Kaku. Musicians? Hands down, Hiro Yamamoto (original Soundgarden bassist), Seiji Ozawa (Boston Symphony Orchestra), or, more recently, Rachel Yamagata (Utada Hikaru is disqualified for using the word “Japanesey” in her lyrics).
Who is the most famous JA of all time? The arts/entertainment industry is represented by Pat Morita and George Takei most recently, but there’s also Mako, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Tamlyn Tomita, James Iha, Mike Shinoda, Devon Aoki, Tak Fujimoto, etc., etc., and let us not forget, USAGI YOJIMBO FOREVER!
For those not impressed with Hollywood, let me offer some real-life heroes: Fred Korematsu (Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient), Ellison Onizuka (one of the Challenger seven), Kristi Yamaguchi (come on, you don’t live under a rock, do you?).
I know it’s out of vogue to talk about the war in this day and age, but I grew up hearing about internment stories and what it means to be persecuted by fellow Americans, and then go fight a war for them anyway. It is very important to me. I grew up with a chest of my grandfather’s things in my closet. In it was a military dress hat; the name embroidered on the side was of my grandfather’s closest friend. SADAO MUNEMORI.
So yeah, all those guys are heroes to me. They lived their life under a common motto: GO FOR BROKE
It is something to remember.

It’s a new year, and you can fellate if you want to

My official resolution for the new year: I Shall Not Get In Your Way If You Want to Suck
Several people, coworkers and distant net acquaintances alike have contacted me with obviously doomed-for-failure-and-not-even-worth-trying-for-the-sake-of-trying ideas they have for the new year. I feel this is all a natural part of the new years spirit. I also feel guilty for shooting down people so obviously infected with post-holiday infused joy every year, so I’ll shut up in person and simply state here: An idea that is obviously sucky even now will probably not thaw out and bloom in the spring.
And to the WordPress evangelists spamming my blog about the newly-released version 2.0: You are the reason I am not switching from MT anytime soon. (And if this was all a ploy by SixApart: Cheers! You guys are fucking geniuses!)

Oh. My. Shaka.

I don’t know what’s more disturbing, the fact that this site exists, or the fact that my family’s Shitzu has a bee costume, too. Or the fact that I bought him an Eeyore costume at a dog clothing store in Kobe last year. Oh my god, I’m practically an eight year old girl! I’ve been in the land of Hello Kitty and Totoro way too long!
(Mom, please send a photo of Jak in his bee suit for me to post)
(via)

INDIAN GUIDES!

AHA! A possible explanation for my recent Indian chief dream (see my mom’s comment at the bottom). I completely forgot about that! Actually, catching that sheepshead won us the “fishing tournament.” I remember being extremely proud about the fact that we used small rock crabs that I smashed with my dad’s “abalone prybar” (a flat piece of iron with rubber grip I think may still be rusting in our garage or the backyard shed) to catch that fish. The funny thing is, before we landed that one, something big hit our bait and nearly jerked me off the rocks we were fishing from as I held onto the surfcasting rod for dear life! I will always wonder about that first big “one that got away.”
Yeah, the YMCA Indian Guides trip to Catalina… Awesome. As I sit here and reminisce, more memories from that trip are coming back to me… I remember the brown and yellow dome tent we slept in, the first tent we ever owned with sectioned (but not joined with elastic cord as has become the norm) fiberglass tent poles; you had to be careful because they would leave invisible fiberglass splinters in your hands if you weren’t careful that would itch and be sore for days… One of the other fathers brought Kansas City strips to barbeque on the propane grill for all the other dads. My dad told me it was ironic that some of the other dads thought it fit to bring whiskey to drink around the campfire at an Indian outing, a reference I wouldn’t understand for a few more years… That propane tank bust a seal the next morning when someone hooked it up, and it made a loud screeching noise for a good minute or so. I remember taking cover behind a steel trash can, sure it would explode.
Of course, in this politically fucking retarded age of college sports teams having to be renamed, etc., I am quite sure the Indian Guides are no more. Probably renamed to “Gaia’s Earth-Friendly Vegetarian Recyclable Co-op of Homogenous World Heritage,” or some such bullshit. Lemme google this shit to make sure – yep. The YMCA Indian Guides are no more. What a damn shame.
And in a way, what irony! The Indian Guides made Indians cool to all the kids who participated in the programs! These days, the word “Indian reservation” evokes only one thing: Casinos. This makes me very sad. In fact, I’m so far behind the times, I don’t really know if the term “Indian reservation” is racist or not! I certainly hope not.

This Just In

chantibic.jpg
Attention all Americans in Japan, whipped cream in cans is NOW AVAILABLE AT A JUSCO SHOPPING CENTER NEAR YOU!!!
Fear not the Euro-sounding Chantibic brand name, this stuff looks, smells, and lubricates just like Redi Whip! (or so I’m told)
Get your hands on a can NOW, while supplies last – I fear the Japanese palate will reject the simple flavor of pure canned whipped cream and the manufacturers will soon be forced to churn out localized blends:
– Nama Ume flavor! (Great on hamo sushi!)
– Wonderful Wasabi! (Perfect with chu-toro!)
– Dashi (Just spray on a hot bowl of rice for an instant meal!)
– and of course, the old Japanese standby, American Corn! (For hot dogs and hamburgs!)

Speech-to-text it is not

Speaking of cars, the new voice-controlled car navigation systems are a total fucking trip. A couple weeks ago, I caught a ride with a guy from work to an after-work enkai (drink up) in his new navi-equipped ride. I truly felt like a stranger, because he carried on a conversation with the in-dash navigation system, which he has dubbed Keiko, the whole way.
DRIVER (using destination input command): Keiko! Destination, Taiho (restaurant name), Route 28.
KEIKO (in sexy woman’s voice): Confirmed. Time to destination is approximately five minutes.
DRIVER: Keiko! Thank you.
KEIKO: You’re welcome.
Now this was pretty fucking geeky and I teased the fuck out of my coworker, asking him where he stuck his dick to receive a “lube job”, etc., but the best was yet to come:
KEIKO (as we approached town): Take the next right. By the way, do you like ice cream?
ME: WTF!!?!
DRIVER: Keiko! No.
KEIKO: Oh, okay then.
ME: What the fuck was that about?
DRIVER: She wanted to make us stop by the Baskin Robbins at Jusco.
ME: Doesn’t she know it closes at 10? Dumb bitch.
DRIVER: Shut up! You will respect Keiko, or you will walk!
/////////
I fucking love technology, but it’s a curse I tell you. It’s eventually going to come to a point where humans no longer need each other, but by that time I hope to be long gone. My laptop is indispensable, but I draw the line at robot fellacio (in Japanese: robofela).