Sinking

Last night it finally struck me like the smell of a skunk as it passes by your open, ground floor window. My time in Japan is not endless. I will not be visiting the library for periodic contact with my family backhome, studying Japanese most of the week, beating people with a large, bamboo stick (and vice versa), playing Monopoly with my host parents, or being ribbed by Jason. I will be in America in four days.

I literally cried.

I don't know if the Taiko drums I got to play earlier that day contributed, or if the cleaning up my room in preparation for the laundry and packing I'll be doing these next few days was either. What I know is a combination of events culminating in walking home alone singing hymns to myself after a day of test acing, Japanese activity participating, host family talking, Kendo club dining, karaoke singing and picture booth taking, resulted in a minor breakdown before bed.

I didn't do a whole lot with my fellow ryuugakusei. Sure, I had classes with them, and I didn't shun them. But while they were out doing things together, I was with my host family and the Kendo club. I was in Japan to be with the Japanese, and I lived accordingly.

Now, I've become extremely attached to various Japanese people, more than I ever realized. The kindness and care they showed the bumbling, nerdy gaijin who stumbled into their world with a excited but wide eyes was greater than I had ever imagined possible. When the fact that I would indeed be leaving sank into my psyche, it was like being shot. My senses simply numbed, and not because of the fifteen degree temperatures.

It really sank in when, after the long list of events featured earlier, one Kendo Club member wrote on the photo booth photos we took "Don't forget us" before they were given to me. Suddenly, just how important these people were to me, and likewise me to them, became dead apparent. It had been there the whole time, growing, and it burst into blossom right then. The sorrowful beauty of something at it's utmost peak, a flower who can only look forward to its end.

Flowers never bloom alone. Just as it was revealed to me how important the Kendo Club was, a catalytic chain of revelation ensued, as one person after another popped into my mind. I probably could have been set on fire and not noticed.

I have chained myself to Japan. These chains will not break, and they will forever be pulling me back here. Even as I am on the other side of the world, the chains will bite into me soul and remind me, "Your friends wait for you in Japan."

I have joked many times I've doomed myself to be eternally homesick, but the magnitude of my curse was never before apparent to me. I was blissfully ignorant of how much I would miss everyone, despite how much I missed my family at home. No matter where I go, my heart will long to rest in both places at once.

How I wish that God would grant me some small part of his power, that he can be in two places at once. If only I too, if only.

Speech!

This is the final draft of a speech I have to give this coming Thursday. Included below is first the english and, for anyone who might be capable, the Japanese translation which I will deliver, enjoy.

Eigo:

Before coming to Japan, I prepared for my trip. I watched anime, listened to music, read books, everything japanese I investigated. Always Japan was incredible. But, the trip became scary because many unknown things in the trip there were. However, I fought my fear and came to Japan.

After arriving in Japan, my future was still uncertain. However, because my host family were very kind, and because they spoke very good english, I felt welcome. They have fed me great food, shown me great things, and helped me always. I will miss them more than anyone or anything when I return to America.

Together we have done many things. My host father has taught me shogi. My host mother has watched movies with me. All of us have gone sightseeing and played my favorite american boardgame Monopoly. Because they are incredibly kind, I have learned a lot about Japan and japanese.

My senseis have worked hard to teach me japanese, the Kendo club members have been patient as I learned Kendo, and Jason has given insight into life in Japan through his classes. The hard work I have seen has encouraged me to do my best. Whatever I have needed to do, I have been able to do because of the people here.

Everyday everyone has been extremely kind. I can not thank everyone enough for this wonderful experience. Japan has become my home, and I am sad to have to leave. I will think of Japan everyday after returning to America, just as I have thought of America everyday while in Japan. I want to come back to Japan whenever I can because of the kindness you have shown me.

Thank you very much.

Nihongo:

日本へ　くるまえに、わたしは りょこうのじゅんびを しました。アニメを　みたり、おんがくを　きいたり、ほんを　よんだり、日本のすべてを　しらべました。いつも　日本は とても　すごかったです。でも、 りょこうが　こわく　なりました　なぜ　なら　たくさんのしらないことが　りょこうに　ありましたから。

日本に　ついてから、わたしは　まだ　日本のせいかつが　わかりませんでした。しかし、わたしのホストファミリは　とても　しんせつで、英語が　とても　じょうずでしたから、わたしは　うれしかったです。ホストファミリは　わたしに　おいしい　たべものを　つくってくれたり、すごい　ところを　みせてくれたり、いつも　てつだってくれました。アメリカえ　かえってから、だれよりも　なによりも　ホストファミリを　なつかしく　おもうでしょう。

わたしたちは　いっしょに　いろいろ　なことを　しました。ホストおとうさんは　わたしに　しょうぎを　おしえてくれました。ホストおかあさんは　わたしと　えいがを　みました。わたしたちは　みんなで　かんこうに　いきました　そして、わたしのいちばんすきなボウドゲーム　モノポリを　しました。ホストファミリは　とても　しんせつ　ですから、わたしは　たくさん　日本と日本語　について　ならいました。

北星の先生は　ねっしんに　日本語を　おしえてくれました、 けんどうクラブのみなさんは　がまんづよく　けんどうを　おしえてくれました。ジェイソン先生は　げんきゅうしつで　日本のせいかつに　ついて　くわしく　おしえてくれました。　おかげで　わたしは　ひつようなこと　すべて　できるように　なりました、みんなさん から。

毎日　みなさんは　とても しんせつ　でした。この　すばらしい けいけんが　できたことに　かんしゃしています. いま　日本は　わたしのこきょうに なりました。日本を　はなれなければ　なりません　わたしは　かなしい　です. アメリカに かえた　あと　毎日　日本を　なつかしく　おもうでしょう、日本に　いるあいだ　毎日　アメリカのことを　おもいだしていたように。 みなさんは　わたしに　しんせつ　にしてくれましたから、いつか　わたしは　日本へ　かえってきたいです。

どうも　ありがとう　ございました。

Review

Triple update today, be sure to check it all out.

Be sure to give me feedback on the idea presented at the end of this particular entry, especially names!

There are a lot of thing I like to do. I have plenty of hobbies, and my devotion to them all is obvious given how I am complete unable to properly do much in any of them as I am too busy figuring out which I want to do at the moment. That's not to say I never actually get to reading books, writing books, writing music, playing sports or whatnot, but more to say that I never actually am able to devote consistant time to each because of the competition between them.

As such, I have a designated hobby. That is to say, video games.

Recently it has come to my attention that video game reviews both in magazines and on the web are wholey and completely useless. There is little they afford in terms of useful information. Certainly, you'll get a basic concept of the premise of the game, whether or not the controls are utter crap, and whether or not there is any sound or music whatsoever. However, you could deduce most of that from a ten second video. When it comes to game reviews, I most often find myself longing for some hard information that actually pertains to the depth of a game.

Additionally, it has come to my attention that game scores are highly inflated. Goldeneye: Rogue Agent did not deserve anything about a three or four on a scale from one to ten, and that high a score was simply for the fact that the game had music, had graphics, and was technically playable. Yet, reviews were consistantly around six to seven for the game. I would have given the game a two.

Beyond simply horrid games, good games are inflated as well. The scores on the mediocre offerings of the Xbox 360 are enough proof. Madden 2006 for the Xbox 360 got only half a point less score on average than its PS2 counterpart, despite having only half the features, marginally improved graphics, and a plethora of game crippling bugs. Aside from that, the game was apparently fun. However, it just seemed odd that there wasn't a game that scored less than seven in the Xbox 360 launch lineup, despite the "meh" reactions to most of the games from the people who played them.

While studies show that marketing blitz effects sales and reviews are actually a non-factor for the majority of the gaming public, I know what bothers me and I intend on doing something about it.

A while ago, one of the other ryuugakusei (foreign students) said he wanted to write video game reviews for a magazine. I said I preferred reading independant websites such as Penny-Arcade and 1up.com for my reviews, as they seemed less likely to be biased about what games rocked, and what games sucked. He suggested we should start a website, we had a nice talk about it but in the end nothing came of it.

However, it seems to me that since my designated hobby is playing video games, I should not keep my experience to myself. Rather than sit around and bemoan the lack of truly informative reviews, I should try my hand at making my own.

I've actually already done this to an extent. Epinions offered a nice outlet for reviewing things. However, the lack of support for niche and foreign titles (such as the Japan-only DS titles I've picked up here) as well as the feeling of being lost in the waves of other reviewers turned me off, despite the fact that my reviews for some games were widely used to promote those games at various websites (such as this one).

So, something I want to do in the near future (which is likely not to take shape until after I graduate college) is to start my own full fledged website for reviewing games. Admittedly, as one man there won't be a whole lot I can do, but I'm certainly going to do it. If I'm going to be buying games anyway, I might as well tell the world what I find. I love writing anyway, I love fiddling around with HTML, I love web based attention, and so I'll be combining all this with my love for video games.

As such, I'll need an appropriate name and theme for my site. I'll probably go with a similar graphical scheme to this blog. As for the name, I don't know yet. There are some ideas listed below, but I'd appreciate any suggestions.

Ideas:

inflammablemonkey.net
yeoldeschool.net
technowhatsit.net
holybit.net
notaurl.net

Tell me your thoughts!

Banzai!

Last night I won my first Kendo match! Booyaka!

Here are the details.

The Kendo club was split into two teams. Whichever team won the most matches would win overall. I was selected to lead the way by going first. Things looked grim because my opponent, Ichiro, was one of the better Kendo players.

I very successfully deflected his attacks (much to my surprise as much as everyone elses'), and strategized a devious strategy. I would keep repeating the same two attacks over and over, lulling him into a false sense of security regarding the other attacks I knew. Then, I would strike at an opportune moment and surprise him.

It worked! I continually attacked "men" (the head) and "kotei" (the hands) while avoiding "do" (the body). When I saw his guard relaxed, I struck with do and scored! I was ecstatic.

Booyaka.

One week from now at this time, I will be flying home. It's amazing how fast it all went by. It feels like just yesterday I was a bewildered foreigner stammering out single japanese words in poor attempts to communicate. Now, I'm a bewildered foreigner stammering out three or more words in poor attempts to communicate.

I don't want to leave, but I'm looking forward to being home.

Twelve Days of Japan

Only Twelve days, including the meagre hours left to me now of today, are left in my time in Japan. This is something that has crept into my mind as a both a great happy upcoming event and a great unhappy upcoming event.

Several parts of me want to go home. Several parts of me want to stay. They are organized from most homesick to most Japan sick, with a clear line seperating the sides.

--Home--
1. The part that wants to see my family.
2. The part the longs for a Pepperoni Pizza cheaper than $32.
3. The part wishing to use words like, "eloquent" and "flabbergast" without needing to explain the history of English.
4. The part wanting to open Christmas presents.
5. The part wanting to present Christmas presents.
6. The part hoping I can instantly be transported home so as not to need to give this speech I'm writing.
7. The part that wants to play all the video games I left behind.
--Mid Line--
8. The part which lost and won a number of video games to Kendo club members.
9. The part that took far too many photos in the first two weeks, but didn't regret it.
10. The part who jubilantly spoke "Tadaima" upon returning home.
11. The part which enjoyed learning Japanese, even at a slow pace.
12. The part that came to rely on Jason Barrows' zaniness to sustain my weirdness fix.
13. The part that might wonder where all the aches and pains of Kendo went.
14. The part longing for games of Monopoly, meals, and experiences with my host family.
--Japan--

There's more than that, but you needed it all in a nutshell, and not one the size of Boston.

In conclusion, I give you the following:

"Behold, the hour has arrived! The Holy Temple of Firefury Amahira has been unearthed!" proclaims Yon-Zhauryg v'Klot, leader of the Cult of the Undead Inflammable monkey.

Define: Good Luck

Query resulted with the following answer:

1. Me

Just a few days ago, I played a game of Monopoly with my host parents that ended in disaster. It was a shocking defeat. Being in the perfect position to win, I lost. I couldn't believe it.

The exact opposite thing happened today.

I was in the perfect position to lose. A blunder on the part of my Okaasan netted my Otousan an early Monopoly of the orange group. He was also quite rich, having landed on free parking a number of times. This spelled certain doom, despite the trade I made with my Okaasan netting her monopolies with the red and yellow groups and myself monopolies with the violet and powerful dark blue groups. We simply didn't have money, and he did.

It got worse for me when my Okaasan did come across money, because now I was a mouse between two titans. My Railroads kept me alive for a while, netting me a good two hundred dollars every now and then. I struggled to keep my houses on Boardwalk and Park Place. Finally everything was mortgaged save those two properties, and one house had been knocked off of Park Place, leaving it with only two and Boardwalk with 3.

Sitting on St. James place (which had just fleeced me), I could see very few likely scenarios (none) that would lead me to victory. One titan or the other would crush me, and it was simply a matter of time.

For a moment, a glimmer of hope appeared when I landed on Free Parking, but it was immediately followed by my landing on a yellow property with four houses. In order to pay the debt, I would have to sell my houses.

I decided to cling to life like a drowning cat, and negotiated to give away my violet monopoly, and a couple miscellaneous properties in lieu of money. The reasoning being I could pay, but it would be more beneficial for my Okaasan to make sure she grabs my property, as opposed to my Otousan. I doubted I would be able to cancel anything but a pithy debt with my mortgaged railroads, but I still had my houses.

Then, my Okaasan landed on Boardwalk (thanks to a well timed chance card). I netted $1100. That money kept me alive long enough to land on Free Parking again, and take another hit on top of that. I was living by the skin of my teeth, but I was living.

I made it safely to Pacific, just past GO TO JAIL, and breathed a brief sigh of relief. I would make it to GO, net another two hundred, and possibly my Okaasan might land on my property and keep me afloat longer once I did get that far.

This miraculous series of events then transpired.

My Okaasan landed on Park Place, netting me $600.
I gambled, built three more houses (bringing the total to four each) and rolled a four, also landing on Short Line.
My Otousan landed on the Short Line, but it was Mortgaged.
I joked, "Okaasan ni!" (Okaasan two, indicating I wished her to roll a two).
My Okaasan rolled a two. I got $1700.
I rolled a four, landing on Boardwalk. I joked, "Otousan yon!" (Otousan four).
My Otousan rolled a four. I got another $1700.

This huge hit on both my opponents dehoused most of the board. I bought back the property I had given my Okaasan, and built it up. Avoiding all danger in another trip around the board (and landing on Free Parking again), I watched as both my opponents landed on the now fully armed and operational Park Place netting me a nice $1500 each. The remaining houses vanished, my Okaasan went out on the violet monopoly, I unmortgaged all her property, and fully built up the red and yellow monopolies. My Otousan didn't make it past the violets.

Victory was mine.

It was insane, I had been on the brink of death, I had zero dollars exactly, and only a faintest prayer of life. In fifteen minutes I went from the brink of death to a rebirth and vitality unheard of. It was impossible, but it happened.

Luck is obviously fickle, or at least likes to play around with people. Luck said to me these past two days, "Look at this! Behold that I can supplant all your skill or lack thereof and bring you victory or defeat on a whim!"

Obiwan Kenobi obviously was being more witty than insightful when he said, "In my experience there's no such thing as luck."

Insufferable

I have just now suffered a third consecutive defeat in Monopoly at the hands of my Okaasan. That is not what makes it insufferable.

There are various elements listed below, each of which contributed to the insufferability of the situation.

1. The fact that, just when I finally got two monopolies and built them up, in two consecutive turns I got one house repair card and then the other.

2. The fact that, in three consecutive turns, I landed on my Okaasan's built up property.

3. The fact that in twelve turns neither my Okaasan or Otousan were anywhere near my property (they continually rolled in Jail, failed until the third try, and then ended up in jail again).

4. The fact that I feel like I should have won because I had money, lots of property, and potential.

The result is that I lost a game I should have won, and it's one of those losses that has my competitive blood screaming at me for bloodthirsty revenge. Monopoly being what it is, I will have to wait at least a day if not a week before the opportunity arises.

I should take consolation in the fact that I can no longer sit back and largely take it easy and expect to win around my host parents anymore, and that it is my tutalage that has brought this about. I don't care about my reputation as a skilled Monopoly player, nor do I care so much that I lost. What truly gets to me I think is that I had every opportunity to use vast amounts of free parking money to establish myself, I had property I could have expertly used to bolster myself. Instead, I haphazardly made serious mistakes that led to getting monopolies after both of my host parents, and thus left me behind in terms of cash flow. With most of my resources spent funding my host parents monopolies, I died.

Be forewarned anyone who seeks me out on my return. Within me is kindled the fire of my viking ancestry, which screams for the victory that slipped my fingers this night. The gears of my mind are being polished, refined, and prepared to reawaken the long dormant sectors which rested while waiting for a real Monopoly challenge to arise. They are purring and waiting for a chance to strike out and redefine what it means to trade.

I have grown too lazy, and now I have felt the sting of the apathy I succumbed to. I grew fat on the easy victories of September and October. Now, I find that I can not play the game thoughtlessly, and am ashamed I assumed I ever could.

I hearby swear that in the next game, bad luck or good, fair winds or storms, free parking or jail, there will be not on the board but the destroyed fortresses of my foes, and the shining bastions of my cause.

Rar.

Shumatsu

Shumatsu is Japanese for weekend.

This weekend several things happened. I tried calligraphy, I got to wear armor in Kendo for the first time, and I went sightseeing with my host family. Some of that you may already been aware of, but today I have some pretty pictures! Only two, as A) I want to give my family a long slide show of my experiences in Japan (an endless stream here would defeat the purpose) and B) with a limit of two per post I avoid clogging my posts and page with far too many images.

That said...



Shodo, the Japanese art of calligraphy. In a two hour lesson, I showed the "good sense" that I am often attributed when I try activities that are very Japanese. I did very well, having never had a lesson before. This is the only picture I have of my experience, as I was too busy practicing and paying attention to bug anyone for photographs more than once. However, I have a wealth of calligraphy I did to show off, which I think makes up for it.



The picture's slightly blurry, and I have others, but I'm lazy so...

It may be difficult to tell, but that is me. I got to wear Kendo armor for the first time on Saturday, and will be able to for these last four weeks of time I have in Japan. Having started Kendo at the very end of September, I have apparently made stunning progress. I had my first Kendo match, which I lost, but only one of two points were scored on me (we ended by exceeding the time limit). My opponent was surprised to learn how short a time I had been learning Kendo. I was thankful for the praise, as I couldn't hit him. He had the inherent advantage of knowing how to block.

As these four weeks begin, I have a sense of sadness and relief at the same time. I love my life here very much, it has nothing short of devastated what I now see as low expectations of how great this trip would be. However, at the same time I miss home a heck of a lot. I am a homebody to the core, and as such the people, places and things of home have been continually growing in my mind. The sense of relief is extremely slight, being more of an expectation of when I return than anything else.

Until then, I will continue my studies.

Shodo

"Shodo" is Japanese for caligraphy, or the artistic drawing of Kanji characters. It is one of the many arts of the Samurai in Japan, and purportedly helps concentration and swordsmanship.

In continuation of my Samurai training, I spent some time yesterday learning Shodo. It was an immensely enjoyable experience, if slightly frustrating at times. My brush rarely acted in the way I wished it to, spoiling some of the work I did at inopportune moments. However, overall I did extremely well considering that I have no real experience with the art (although I appear talented in everything Samurai).

Some of the other foreign students participating have actually taken lessons. I'll admit I felt some small amount of pleasure in the fact that I did as well if not better than them. However, everyone was good overall, and I did not seek any compliments on my work (although I recieved many). The professor was especially impressed with the Kanji "Kebin" name my host father gave me.

The name "Kebin" is two kanji, Ki and Bin combined (Ki becomes Ke). They mean "Spirit" or "Heart" and "Quickly" or "With All/Great Speed". Exactly what the combination means is up in the air. It might mean I can build my spirit with incredible speed (ala Dragon Ball Z power ups! KYAAAA), quickly and with ease display great amounts of spirit, or simply mean that I am both spirited and quick. In any case, all the Japanese who see it declare it to be an incredibly good name.

Those comments have actually spawned some envy in students who have not been given Kanji names from their hosts. However, I think something is lost when you ask your hosts for one. The greatest things I have recieved from my host family have been unasked for, such as my name, my Shogi set, and my kendo practice sword (not to mention a lot of Love). If I asked for them, the magic I now associate with them would be very different.

But, back to Shodo.

If you are a perfectionist, Shodo is not calming at all. Nothing looks anything like you want it to, and when the professor creates beautiful work with ease it only compounds the problem. Trust me on this, there were a lot of frustrated perfectionists in the classroom yesterday.

If you are patient, and willing to settle with imperfection, Shodo can be an incredible experience well worth trying. There is something calming about the way the brush moves and the strokes are made when you become less focused on whether it is perfect or not and more focused on the simple act of the art. Like other Japanese arts, there is a strange feeling I find whenever I try them. It is the appreciation of simple elegance, I think, the understanding that in something as simple as a letter there can be art and beauty that makes Kendo, Shodo and most things Japanese so wonderful.

And also what makes the iPod popular here (expensive though it may be).

I'll be bringing home the work I did (all of it, good and bad), so look forward to (or dread if you like) my showing it off.

Later I shall see if, as Japanese lore says, the caligraphy will help me with my swordsmanship!

Kendo away!

Kimochi

Kimochi is a Japanese word whose closest translation is "Good Feeling". I'm going to relate this to video games.

I'm an anti-social freakish nerd, I'll tell you, and I know full well I am. I've had a lot of very bad experiences with group projects, group video games, and group field trips. I've had incredible single player gaming experiences. Still, I will admit something that is true.

Playing with people can be heaven.

Immediately notable is the "can" in that statement of fact. What I am saying in one sentence is "The gaming experience can be augmented by the additional of other living persons such that its enjoyability increases to undetailable levels, or such that it loses all semblence of entertainment." In english, people make games either more fun or terrible.

I've had far too many experiences playing online where people suck. Not suck in the sense that they are bad at the game, that is forgivable. Everyone sucked in that fashion at some point. The kind of suck I am talking about is the suck of cheating, laziness, and general apathy that makes playing with people extremely frustrating.

This is especially true of my years playing the real life sport of soccer. Many of the teams I played on, I was the single player on the team who felt that properly playing the game meant I had to work hard and sweat. My teammates had some weird notion in their head that they didn't need to run around to play soccer, or that they could singlehandedly take on the other team of eleven people. It's a team sport of a reason, and they didn't get it.

So, it is very true that playing any game with people can suck, very much so. However, often the opposite can be true.

Some of the best gaming I've done came in the form of the Halo 2 sessions that started at my college after its release and continued every friday from evening to the late, late hours of the night. Twelve, sometimes sixteen people all together in their battle for flags, frags, and fun. That was good.

But there is good, and there is "kimochi".

I'll begin with the anti-kimochi, the worst gaming experience possible as related to people. This is when playing with people results in such an unenjoyable experience that it crushes our spirit and wish to play anything for a time. There was a game I played with my brother and some random online people where this happened. After my first death in this game, I prepared to start fresh and fight anew. Unfortunately, while the game allowed for this, the other players wouldn't have it. Whatever I did, I could barely erect the most basic structure of my base before I was utterly crushed by my foes' unhindered forces. They didn't adhere to the, "Don't hit a man while he's down" rule. They not only hit me, they had a DDR party on my bloated corpse. I've never even spoken the true name of the game since.

When "kimochi" happens, it is a feeling that is unparalled in any other experience I've had. Whether in competing against people, with people or both, the feeling acquired is simply magical. It's pure excitement and joy poured into you without want or care. It is simply, kimochi.

I've only had a few experiences of kimochi in my life, but they were simply incredible.

The first kimochi I ever experienced was in a old MUD named FreeMUD. It was free, it had a small userbase, and it was kimochi. I played it with my brother, my sister, and people I didn't know. It was always a good feeling to play, it was always great to roleplay with other people, and it was the best MMORPG-like experience I've ever had. But, like all good things, it ended when the MUD disappeared as it was moving to a new server, and I never found it again. That feeling became the ideal of group activity that little has ever lived up to or even partially obtained.

Another significant instance was my first experience of two person, one cart play in Mario Kart: Double Dash with my brother-in-law. I don't think I've ever felt that in sync with a person before. Even when we messed up, it was still awesome. Everything was fun, everything was awesome, and it was all because I wasn't playing alone. The experience is one that I do not easily forget.

There have been other cases, but the point has been made. Kimochi is a great thing to achieve in anything.

The unfortunate situation of life now is that it is increasingly difficult to achieve online. Years ago, even after the days of FreeMUD, the number of people who we'll call "losers" in the world of online games were very few. There weren't people cussing out other people simply because there was a chat function, there weren't people going crazy and intentionally killing their own team, it was a safe place to play games because everyone knew the goals and did their best to accomplish them. This doesn't mean there was always kimochi, as people will often do what they deem best as an individual, but it wasn't an impossible dream.

Such is not the case today. While World of Warcraft has been a very good experience for me, and so has been playing Counter-Strike online, I've inevitably found that there are always people who lack the fundamental understanding that the point of playing in a group competition game is to support your own group and defeat the enemy. The sad state of things in WoW is such that players in "The Alliance" (team 1) will stand around and do nothing while one of their own is battling and being killed by one of "The Horde" (team 2) who snuck up on them and attacked them out of the blue. The real life equivalent is someone is being murdered in the streets, and people (instead of either trying to help or running away screaming) watch the event as though it was a pair of pidgeons fighting each other over a prime spot for picking up bread crumbs. In Counter-Strike, some places will ban you outright for simply making a mistake, not to mention hackers. Kimochi is technically possible, but it had become the impossible dream it once wasn't.

All kimochi has left in the world of games are groups of people, like the Halo 2 sessions I adored, getting together in the real world and playing. Until the anonymity of the internet no longer makes people assume they can cheat and do whatever they want, kimochi will not be easily found there.

Four Day Weekends Ahoy!

Various news to report.

Firstly, I just registered for my last semester of college's classes, and submitted my "I'm graduating" form. My class schedule, quite simply, rocks the world.

J-Term: UNIX Administration Every Morning.

Spring Term:
Monday: Self Defense 7PM-9PM
Tuesday: Seminar, Islam and Sociology.
Wednesday: Nothing.
Thursday: Seminar, Islam and Sociology.
Friday: Nothing.

Basically, aside from learning how to defend myself from random attackers, I have a four day weekend every weekend, with an additional resting day in the middle of the week! ROCK THAT!

Also, with only a total of 13 credits, and only 10 of which will be in the larger Spring Term, I should have lots of free time...

...which will likely get eaten up trying to find a job, and working on my Senior Project. However, with five days a week free, I can easily allocate two to actual schoolwork, and three to Project/job.

Fun, eh?

Other news of interest is tomorrow I'm having a party with some Kendo club members after practice. There's going to be great food (apparently my Okaasan is going all out, which is scary considering how delicious her barely trying food is), great people and Monopoly of course.

Speaking of which, I recently retook my crown from my Otousan, who forgot that perhaps not being under the influence had helped his victory before and drank a lot before the game.

All in all, tis a happy time.

Maneki Neko!

Behold Halloween in all its Japanese glory!

Yes, I have figured out how to post pictures here. I did a long time ago. However, I'm lazy.

Actually Halloween is rather underwhelming here, possibly because of the lack of pervasive advertisements for costumes, candy, ghouls, goblins and cauldrons. However, in addition to the epic teamwork's victorious effort depicted above, there was a pretty cool Halloween party hosted by Jason last night. Apparently the multitalented BCA director and professor also makes his own alcoholic beverages which I politely abstained from.

I went as a pathetic excuse of a pirate. I had made a newspaper hat and sword. I was No-Beard, who continually complained about how pirating these days was extremely difficult. Apparently, pirating in international waters results in liability for taxes from each and every nation in the world. When told that being a pirate meant you could break rules like that, No-Beard would respond, "But that's unethical."

I hope that you all had a great Halloween!

Jason the rather dead person and No-Beard say, "Kanpai!" and "Arr!"

Film at 11

Yesterday I went on a second Onsen trip with my host parents. This trip was infinitely better than the first, touristy one last weekend.

We traveled first to probably the single more beautiful place in Japan I've been to. I realized that despite planning otherwise the night before, I'd forgotten my camera.

Baka.

Thankfully, Hiro had a cheap EZCam with him, which takes pictures the old fashioned way. You know, that crazy film stuff loonies like my sister use because they're artsy? Pssh, digital age go!

I bought postcards there, sporting some of the nice views, which I will send out to select people.

The wind there was something else. I enjoyed it, my host parents commented on how I must have ice in my blood, as it was certainly not warm out and the wind coming off the ocean wasn't either. I was too busy taking my mind off my camera and trying to enjoy the beautiful sights.

After that, we went to the Onsen, and I'll tell you that for the second time I found that being naked around a bunch of other naked people isn't too big of a deal, although I still gave myself plenty of personal space. I explained to Hiro that in America we do not have hotsprings and public baths like this. Partly because Americans are uptight about the whole "naked with everyone you know" thing, and partly because the number of volcanicly active areas is quite small, meaning such baths would require artificial heating, which in turn would be expensive.

The Onsen was outdoors, and had another great view of the ocean. It was an excellent experience. It was not without a lack of strangers either. This was an apartment building trip, meaning all the neighbors were there. I got a lot of comments concerning my remarkable skill with chopsticks, my good manners, and my ability to eat a great variety of Japanese foods (including raw fish).

Yesterday was also the first day I showered three times in one day. Once before getting into the Onsen, once before getting into the Onsen a second time after a visit to the Sauna, and a third time before returning to the world of fully clothed people.

In retrospect, the title is in reference to my lack of a camera, and not to taking any pictures of naked people, although three guys there had a picture taken from behind of them looking out to the ocean, one hand each raised in a victorious pose. It was funny to watch.

If any of you come to Japan, go to an Onsen, it is a really nice experience (especially after a lot of Kendo, your muscles will praise you).

Saru Mo Ki Kara Ochiru

The phrase above translates directly to "monkey too tree from fall". More meaningfully, it translates to the saying "Even Monkeys fall from trees." It is said after a failure, as a way of noting, "I may have failed, but even the best slip up once in a awhile." It's sort of conceited, but effective.

I learned this at probably an opportune time, or perhaps I should have seen it as a warning of what was to come. In any case, what I knew had to happened eventually, just not when, came about last night.

I lost at Monopoly.

At first, this may seem like a large buildup to a rather trivial revelation. When you play monopoly, at least 50% of the people playing have to lose, and that's only when two people play. It can get as high as 83% when you have six people playing. So, how is it strange that I lost?

The simple fact is that every Monopoly game I've played for the past year, excluding one which I took over for someone else 75% through the game (and was sick at the time to boot), I've won. Starting fall semester last year, I was unbeatable. I have no idea why this was, but it was. Every time I sat down at a Monopoly board, everyone looked at me with suspicious eyes, afraid of my every roll and deal.

I never expected to win any of the games I played, I just did. Every game the people around me would build up their cash piles, their heaps of land, and I would be penniless and sporting some mediocre assets. Yet, I would turn these into lucrative monopolies with the more bizzare and suicidal trades which would, miraculously, bring vitory. Despite that at the end of each trade, my position was technically the worst of anyone's in both layman and expert opinion, I still won.

It didn't matter who I played, my College pals, my family, even the Japanese. Everyone fell before me as I sat around baffled as to why. I was always struggling up from the bottom, making dire trades by the skin of my teeth, just barely making it and suddenly bursting out from behind like a car from an explosion in a Hollywood action flick.

I kept telling myself "this is the game I'll lose, it'll all be over, and people will stop acting like I'm some kind of Monopoly expert". It never happened as I thought.

Yesterday, however, it all changed. I lost.

Saru mo ki kara ochiru.

It wasn't even close, in truth. I was the first out of the game. I once had money, power, and honestly the best postition of anyone. I had landed on Pacific, North Carolina, and Pennsylvania (those green ones before Board Walk) before anyone else and claimed them as mine, I'd built them up, using my easy start to my advantage. I felt certain of victory. It was my turn to be the big and powerful, looking down on the little ones below me struggling to even make ends meet. It was my turn to not have to work and sweat for victory.

How ironic it was that I wiped out so thoroughly.

I can look back now and analyze what went wrong. I can cite a silly trade on the part of my Okaasan, where she gave a monopoly to my Otousan for a pittance of cash, and one property that netted her little. I can cite a stupid trade of my own, where I traded a monopoly to my Okaasan for an extra one for me, when I didn't have the money for anything anyway. However, whatever the minute details that contributed were, one thing is certain...

...I haven't had dice rolls that bad since last spring's debacle of a Risk game.

Quite simply, if it was possible I was going to land somewhere bad, it happened. If it was possible for my opponents to avoid my spaces, it happened. I watched as my already small wallet vanished, and I finally kicked the bucket.

Quite simply, it was like skiing at full speed down a slope into a huge piled of icy snow, shocking and numbing.

For while, I just sat there, neglecting my job as banker for uttering various phrases, English and Japanese alike, describing how unbelievable the whole thing was.

Saru mo ki kara ochiru.

Looking back, there's a sense of both loss and relief. I had something special, a winning streak the likes of which I may never see again, but the stigma it attached to me was almost suffocating. I think I can understand a little how my uncle felt when he was killed early on in a game of Mafia. We feared him because we knew he was clever, we knew he was persuasive, and we thought we knew he would only be working for his own ends. Turns out he was the police officer. Whoops.

In any case, while it was always put in jovial terms, suggesting a game of Monopoly, or at least my participation therein, immediately brought cries of my coming victory. People looked at me as though I were an old and wizened sword master, suggesting that we have some sparring matches. As nice as it was to win as often as I did, hearing people say "we know you're just going to win anyway" has an odd effect. Whether or not it is meant to, there is some bitterness in the very idea that stings like the thousand needles one feels after a limb loses feeling.

Hopefully, this will be one in a long line of losses that will convince people that really, as impressive as my trade skills may be, I win because of luck.

Hopefully, when I return home and suggest we play Monopoly, I'll hear, "Now that you've lost, we're going to beat you!"

Saru mo ki kara ochiru.