Mountain fog comes in
there is no far away -
we are the horizon
Views from a Japanese mountainside
Tea Bowl
You can imagine how irritating it must be, after you've openly admitted to kidnapping Japan's citizens in the dead of night for decades so you could train spies to do Japan further harm, when just as you're busy trying to extort the international community with threats of nuclear holocaust, that same nitpicky Japan, who for some reason won't take your word for anything, keeps pestering you about where the hell the rest of its kidnapped citizens are, while you're busy trying your damndest to appear sane and scam the best possible deal for not making WMDs you're gonna make anyway... it's... it's gotta be way worse than a stone in the shoes of the People of the Democratic Republic, if only they had shoes.
Some say that the first half of life is spent acquiring things, and the last half is spent letting them go. That's generally true, I suppose, but it's different for travelers, who from the start of their journey begin to let things go. One of the unsung benefits of travel is learning how to do this, how not to invest too much of your presence in static physical things.
I know this is way less than a pixel in the big picture, it's purely a personal thing like a chipped molar you just can't keep your tongue away from and who else even knows or cares. Well this year is the chipped molar and I'm the tongue. Ok maybe another metaphor would be better but you get enough of the picture, which isn't a pretty one as I stand here head bowed over a Japanese calendar, fully aware that this is of no interest to anybody other than myself but I've got to put this microgripe somewhere so why not as graffiti on my cyberwall, like I say I can't keep my mind's tongue away from this chipped molar of a year, metaphors run amok, get as out of control as... as... my Japanese holidays. Life after all is a balance of panorama and pixel count.
Health Minister Yanagisawa vows
This is a good indicator of the LDP's dinosaurial perspective on reality. Graft? Birth-giving devices? Plunging popularity ratings? Let's erase all that by selling coffee mugs bearing the Prime Minister's image! That should undo the disaster!
So there I was, snug in the toasty loft on a cold snowy winter evening just a moment ago, when the peaceful air was suddenly rent from here to there by a woman screaming at the top of her voice: "ONI WA SOTO! FUKU WA UCHI!" Lifted me right out of my chair. It was Echo, who definitely has a stage voice, doing Setsubun.
She had bought the necessary roasted soybeans, which come with a scary mask for extra terror to scare the poor general-purpose demons with, but Setsubun had slipped her mind (though much less than it had slipped mine, we're talking continental differentials here), what with the big snowstorm today and the grandkids aren't visiting at this time like they were last year - with little kids around you sort of automatically remember Setsubun, since the littlies keep you well minded of devilishness - but like I say it was peaceful here till Echo opened an email from Kasumi that had as an attachment a Setsubun mask Kaya had made in kindergarten, being worn by Mitsuki in the photo-op, for whom it is a bit too big as you can see, so shortly after that came the aforementioned celebratory screams and the ratatat of soybeans everywhere outside as demons were sent packing and good fortune was invited indoors. First via the door toward the south, then the east, then the north, then the west, Echo (who has a powerful stage voice), screaming each time far loud enough to scare the demons out of probably the village down below, but certainly any of them so unfortunate as to be lurking in the dark vicinity, and getting hit in the eye with a roasted soybean is no fun either, you can bet.
As in other attempts to withstand science, the global warming naysayers are soon going to have to blame god for a naked Antarctica and a submarine Florida, among the many geoanomalies yet to come, as actual nature marches on in actual reaction to the designer-shod human footprint.