Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji

I'd like to share some art with you - just to make all of us feel like we are learning something on the computer, which is a good thing, especially when we should all be doing our real work!

Katsushika Hokusai (surname first) (1760-1849) is an ukiyou-e artist famous for his work entitled: Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji.


I've never seen Mt. Fuji and don't believe it actually exists - there can't be fog, rain, snow or a Godzilla-sighting to obscure my view of this so-called mountain every time I either pass by it or use high-power binoculars to sight it - can there?   

Regardless, this Hokusai guy believes it exists, and has done some very famous artwork showing his dementia.According to a Japanese fairy tale called The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, a goddess places the Elixir of Life on the peak of Mt. Fuji. As such, the mountain is seen as a the source of teh secret of immortality.

Ukiyo-e images are created when an image drawn onpaper is used to guide the cutting of a wood block. This block wasthen covered with ink and applied to paper to create the image.For each color, a different wood block is required.

I have scanned in all 36 pieces of art and an additional 10 he did on the subject.

Click HERE to go to my photo gallery for a peek at each one with a short description - complete with old names for the prefectures! By the way, if you click on the thumbnail, it will enlarge, and then you can view it like a slide show or go forward and backward via the arrows on the side of the image.

Enjoy!
Andrew Joseph
PS: Yes, the images are all from my personal collection... of postcards purchased from the Tokyo National Museum, from their collection of Hokusai art. I wish I owned even one original Hokusai ukiyo-e, but truth be told, originals are probably worth the cost of a house in Toronto. That's somewhere in the neighbourhood of 1/2 a million dollars.

Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me & My Monkey

It's not all about the sex. It's just mostly about the sex. This blog is mostly about the part that is not about the part that is mostly about sex. I get it, even if I'm not getting it today.

It's Saturday, August 17, 1991. I'm living in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. My mom has come to visit from Toronto. Karen, who is newly arrived in Japan  (three weeks), wants to be my friend before we embark on sex.

She and I are assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. I'm on my second year here. I've also just come off a break-up with my girlfriend Ashley of Augusta, Georgia, and subsequent friends-with-benefits equation. It's sex without the hang-ups of ... well, everything.

I recently returned from Thailand where I was lucky enough to have become the boy toy for two hot-hot-hot Thai women who are 21, work at the hotel I stayed at, and were cool with me dating the other girl. Dating should have been in "quotes". My last night there involved a Thai sandwich, that was both filling and satisfying, but has left me wanting more... and that doesn't seem to be something I can pick-up here in Japan. But... never say die.

And here's Karen who wants to slow thing down so that we can have a relationship before we have sex. She obviously doesn't know who the heck she is dealing with. 

My mom and Karen went to the famed historical city of Nikko together yesterday. Nikko is famous for its "Three Wise Monkeys"... you know the ones: "Hear No Evil; See No Evil; Speak No Evil".

There should be a fourth one: "Touch No Evil, with the monkey grabbing his groin area. Matthew actually got me a statuette of the Four Wise Monkeys... and I'll be damned if I know where it is. Probably got taken out in the house fire a few years back.

Karen rather than going back to her apartment two towns south when the trip was over, came back to my place. She and my mom talked. I think I just touched myself while remembering Thailand.

Anyhow... at 8:30AM, Karen comes bounding into my room and jumps atop me, puts her arms around me, kisses me good morning, waiting until something pops up between us before hopping off. Damn... now more monkey business for me later.

She wants me to get up and fix her some tea and toast. I'm exhausted both physically and mentally. I haven't been alone in weeks and I've had dysentery.

By this time, my mom is up and sees Karen following out of my bedroom, arches an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. I don't even bother trying to correct her mistake, as she already thinks I slept with all of the female staff at our hotel in Thailand, and that I probably got the stewardesses pregnant on our return flight home.

Why tell my mom she's wrong? besides, she knows that even if I was doing what she suspects I am doing, that I would be smart enough to use all of the condoms she sent me.

I am.. but if the past week in Thailand has taught me anything, one can never have enough boxes of condoms.

Because  I seem to have misplaced my bicycle key (to unlock it), I call up my boss, Kanemaru-san, at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE). He comes over, and I introduce him to everyone. He raises an eye at Karen and then looks at me... like 'what the hell are you doing?!' I shrug my shoulders back at him as if to ask 'What the hell am I doing?!' We then take my bicycle over to one of the 347 bicycle repair shops that are apparently all located on a single laneway called Bicycle Repairshop Street.

I'm making that up, but it's not really that outlandish. I just have no idea what any of the streets are, as there are no street signs denoting it.

We leave my bike there - as they will apparently either create a new key or put a new lock on, and then drop it  off at my place tomorrow. 

Back at my apartment one hour later, Karen and my mom are sewing pillow cases for my sofa. You've got to be kidding me? It's almost the last straw. If it wasn't for Karen's awesome sweater puppets, I would've blown a seal... and then got angry when the seal wouldn't call me the next day.

I hate this! I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to feel obligated to anyone I'm trying to boink.

I head out onto my western balcony for some fresh air, and to read Sherlock Holmes, as Karen, my mom, and now local girl (and only friend) Naoko plot out the details of my mom's trip out to the western part of Japan. Holy crap... my mom is going to see more of Japan than I ever will!

Why am I not going with her? Oh yeah... I'm 'busy' and have no money.

Karen wants to go with my mom (please god, no), but I don't think she realizes just how expensive it really is.

At 4PM, I take a bicycle trip out to Ashley's place to water her plants while she is away in the U.S. No, my bicycle is not yet back, however, I borrowed Ashley's bicycle for Karen to ride a few days ago... lucky... so at least I have something  - a girl's bike - to make the 20-minute trip (by bike) to Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town).

Of course, pretty much every single one of my students in seven junior high schools happens to be out that afternoon, and sees me riding a girl's bicycle. Most laugh their head off, while others gasp as they know it's Ashley-sensei (Ashley teacher's) bike - and what happened to her.

The all-seeing Eye of Agamotto, which sees all and knows all, only watches my life. Perhaps it's because Ashley lives in Nishinasuno (northwest of Ohtawara), that people don't seem to know much about her life... or perhaps it's because she doesn't tell everybody everything. Whatever... she told me, so therefore, everyone should already know everything about her!

You know... I warned Ashley many, many, many times to never make a writer angry.  See? I told you not to make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry (or apparently when I'm not angry).

Unlike my friend John who left my fridge empty for me when I came back from Thailand, I restock Ashley's fridge with some bare necessities, as she is returning on Tuesday.

Back home, my mom's reservations for tomorrow's Shinkansen train ride out west, and for her hotels... they are all set. Karen has indeed found the financial waters at tad too deep and has correctly decided to get out.

Naoko drives Karen to the train station so she can go back to Yaita-shi. That leaves just me and my mom... and she's in the bedroom packing for tomorrow. I enjoy the quiet for exactly 30 minutes... that's when John arrives back at my place.

I make him, Naoko and my mom a super hot chili dinner. It makes them all sweat, but at least no one bitches about the heat. I don't eat because I know the food won't stay in me. One, if you'll pardon the pun, solid week of dysentery.

John's trip to Fuji-san was a partial success. He apparently got down to Tokyo without a hitch, but then got on another train that went east instead of west. By the time he discovered the mistake and actually got to Mt. Fuji (I don't believe it actually exists), there were no buses going up to Level 5 (a place where most people actually start the climb so as to not tire themselves out too much when trying to reach the summit. 

So... he either had six-hour hike or the option of a taxi. He took the taxi. I don't blame him... but how much did that cost?! The cab driver gave him a walking stick with all of the levels he would have physically climbed if he hadn't taken a car. The stick, actually contained a few more levels and had a stamp for the peak.

Still, John made it all the way up to Level 8 - and then crashed. He awoke cold and hungry, but did get some really good pictures. That's what he said. I never actually saw the photos... more proof that there is no actual Mt. Fuji. You can read my explanation for this HERE.

Anyhow... everybody loved my chili... especially my mom, who had no idea that I could cook. I can't. This was pretty much the only thing I can make.

after John packed and got ready for his flight back home tomorrow, he and went out for four beers apiece at the 4C bar. We run into another local gaijin (foreigner), Kevin... and both he and John chide me for being too quiet. Hell... I'm sick. And tired.

Am I loud enough for you boys now?

Somewhere touching my monkey,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beatles: COMEON 
PS: I was actually quite impressed with John for trying to climb this imaginary mountain. He did good.
PPS: The image above is NOT the one Matthew gave me... his was a white plastic and maybe about 4 inches high per monkey. I can still picture it perfectly.

Where No Man Has Gone Before

It's Friday, August 16, 1991... I'm up at 8AM and feeling sick from dysentery--I can't stop going to the toilet! I'm living in the small city of Ohtawara, Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan... and have just started my second year here.

My mom is visiting from Toronto, as is my friend, John. I haven't had much time to myself--and that's something I think I really desire... even if its for a couple of hours alone every night, just to get my thoughts in order so that I can survive another day. I'm not depressed or anything... at least not clinically... I just need space. Star Trek got it right. Space is the final frontier.

I'm here in Japan to seek out a new life (for myself), a new world, and a new civilization. To boldly go (or to be grammatically correct), to go boldly where no gaijin (foreigner/outsider) has gone before. Trouble is... I don't feel like Captain Kirk in charge of my own spaceship. I feel more like that poor sucker in the red suit who knows he's going to die when beamed down onto a new alien planet.

That's what dysentery feels like. Plus my butt hurts from the lousy thin toilet paper here in Japan. I try to buy the two- or three-ply stuff, but it just seems too thin! When will someone invent toilet paper extra thick in the middle so your thumb doesn't break through and get crap all over it?!

Ahhh, but I digress.

I'm too sick to go with my mom, Karen (the girl who would be my girlfriend), Naoko (the girl my mom wants to play matchmaker with having met plenty of eligible bachelors on her sojourns around Japan) and Mr. Suzuki (the president of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association).

John leaves at noon to go and climb Mt. Fuji (Fuji-san). I still think that is a waste of time. I don't believe it exists. I've traveled by it five or six times and have never seen it. I've also climbed nearby Mt. Nasu (Nasu Yama) and used the telescope to supposedly view Mt. Fuji... and every single time there is some sort of weather thing obscuring what the Japanese say is Mt. Fuji. Fog. Clouds. Rain. Snow. Godzilla. It's just never been visible for me.

As John leaves, I get up out of bed  - free at last!!! - and fix myself up. Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru), my boss at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) calls and asks me to come to work in the afternoon, as there is some heavy busines they need to discuss with me.

I'm on vacation, but what the heck. It's only a five minute bicycle ride away from where I live at 307 Zuiko Haitsu in downtown Ohtawara. It's the tallest building in the City, and is also supposed to be the most luxurious. I don't know about that, but my apartment certainly is large... three bedrooms, LDK, full bathroom, washer/dryer, and a pair of balconies... one to the west and one to the north. The north is lived in by Mothra-sized spiders that come out as it gets dark. Ick. I hate spiders.

So... at the OBOE, the earth-shattering work they need from me, is to hanko (sign) a single document. That's it. Whatever. I know it couldn't wait, and it's not like I was doing anything important. At least they all know I'm sick, as I have always told everyone exactly how I am.
"Kyo-wa, ogenki desuka? (Today, how are you?)"
"Ma-ma desu (So-so)."

Then the dictionaries come out and everyone determines what's wrong with me. Trust me... in this country where you don't know the language, system or anything, it's best not to keep too many secrets. Not like I can anyway. There is some sort of grave vine network in place in Ohtawara that lets the populace know where I am and with whom; what I am wearing, eating, drinking, purchasing or whatever.

I know this sounds stupid, considering I like being alone sometimes, but it's nice that the whole city seems to have taken a shine to me, and seems to be looking out for my best interests when it's obvious I don't do that for myself, what with being a recently deflowered virgin and current idiot.

At 6PM, my mom arrives back from Nikko... oh, and look who she brought back with her... Karen.

Karen and my mom are best buddies now, and enjoy the camaraderie. Me... I love my mom, but even back in Toronto, I sat alone in my room in the basement and watched Star Trek by myself (see THIS video).

Karen wants to spend the night. Schmoozing with my mom. They chat until 11PM when my mom finally packs it in.

Karen, with her head in my lap wants to know if I expect anything tonight. She says she'd like to be my friend first.

So, who the heck said anything otherwise? I just want sex. Not with my mom in the place, of course. My apartment is big - just not that big!

Karen says that sex can wait until later.

What? I have not said anything about sex... but there are certain expectations. I just nod my head and say okay. I certainly wasn't expecting her this evening, and I wasn't expecting anything tonight. I do have dysentery, afterall.
 
Karen sleeps in the living room on my couch. My mom is in my room on my queen-sized bed, and I'm sleeping in John's room, which is a bloody mess.

Somewhere beyond my rim of the star-light,
Andrew Joseph
Blog title is by Alexander Courage who wrote the theme song to Star Trek: WARPFACTOR.
Here are the original words to the song that were not used - written by show creator Gene Roddenberry. Sorry Gene... it sucks.



Beyond
The rim of the star-light
My love
Is wand'ring in star-flight
I know
He'll find in star-clustered reaches
Love,
Strange love a star woman teaches.
I know
His journey ends never
His star trek
Will go on forever.
But tell him
While he wanders his starry sea
Remember, remember me.

Bring Out Your Dead

This blog is about fish.

I can hear you now - again with the fish.

But this one is important though certainly not as fun as my fish tales that you should re-read HERE and HERE. Still, since it is important, it's worth a read. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water - it is.

A species of Japanese salmon thought to have been extinct for almost 70 years has been found alive and doing fine.

In a Canadian Press article written by Jay Alabaster and appearing on December 15, 2010, it was reported that the black kokanee (kunimasu) salmon (scientific name of oncorhynchus nerka kawamurae) is getting along swimmingly in Lake Saiko (Saiko-ko) - one of the five Fuji lakes near Fuji-yama (Mt. Fuji) near Tokyo.

Back in 1935, Japan began a hydroelectric project in and around the waters of Tazawa-ko (Lake Tazawa) the country's deepest lake located in Akita-ken (province of Akita).

This lake was the natural habitat for the landlocked sockeye salmon - and when the project began highly acidic water was introduced into Lake Tazawa from a nearby river to create more volume for hydroelectric power generation, the higher levels of acidic water began killing the kunimasu. 

Japan's Environment Ministry harvested about 100,000 kunimasu and took them to Lake Saito and Lake Biwa (Biwa-ko) in Shiga-ken. The goal was to ensure the species did not die out. Strangely enough, by 1948, the species was declared extinct. I'm guessing the water may not have been the same as to what the species was used to or food was limited, or a different set of predators.
   

Days ago, however, Professor Tetsuji Nakabo of Kyoto University along with Masayuki Miyazawa (also known as Sakana-kun or Mr. Fish) announced that his team of researchers found the fish after catching nine of the blackish trout from Lake Saito.

The kunimasu is a 30-centimetre (12-inch) long dark olive coloured fish with black spots on its back. It's not an ugly fish nor a pretty fish, but it is probably sad that everyone has discovered it's alive.

"I was really surprised. This is a very interesting fish - it's a treasure. We have to protect it and not let it disappear again," says Nabako hoping that local fishermen would not attempt to catch it.

He noted that Lake Saito had enough kunimasu stock - implying that as long as current environmental situations remain stable, the fish should thrive.

The Environment Ministry has promised to look into the claim of the kunimasu's remarkable recovery but for now it is still officially extinct. That's probably good news for a fish craving some privacy. 

Somewhere this fish tale has a happy ending,

Andrew Joseph

Today's title is by Strung Out: PEPPY

There is some swearing in the song.

PS: The story also noted that there are quite a few other species - including shellfish and plants - that were re-discovered in Japan after being declared extinct. I looked and looked, however, and couldn't find an example of a rediscovered Japanese critter. Of course, something like 1/3 of all extinct animals et al is rediscovered after about four years after being declared extinct.

PPS: Here's what happens when you're in a hurry to make something extinct: DEAD - it's also the inspiration for the blog title.

Tomorrow Never Knows

I suppose the Japanese Tourist Bill will eventually forgive me, but until then I'll stand by my guns. You see... I don't believe Mount Fuji actually exists. I think it's a big tourist scam on the likes of Capricorn One (involving the mission to our moon, Luna) and possibly the Roswell Crash (involving a government cover-up of a crashed spaceship).

Oh sure, I can hear you all screaming about how good ole Andrew has finally had that mental breakdown we've been expecting for the last... well, just for about ever. But hold on... I have proof. Sort of.

I have lived here in Japan for a couple of years now, and in all that time I have never seen Mount Fuji. Yes, I should probably get off my green couch more often, turn off the crappy food-related television shows and go take a trip to Kamakura-shi in Kanagawa where the 'mountain' is said to reside. 

Mount Fuji - or Fuji-san is supposed to be the symbol of Japan. You mean Japan is imaginary? 

I have friends like Matthew and Takako who claim they have gone to 'see' Mount Fuji, and have even 'climbed' it, but I think they and everybody else have all been hoodwinked by a greedy Japanese tourism industry. Wait. Don't click away to look for porn. Let me tell you my story first, and then I'll present my pudding... because the proof is always hidden there.

Over these past two years, I have taken the Shinkansen (Japanese bullet train) about seven or nine times (but not eight) past the supposed location of Mount Fuji. In each instance it rained or was cloudy enough to obscure the 'mountain'. As well, I've been on mountains where you are supposed to be able to see Mount Fuji off in the distance... obscured by clouds, snow, rain, fog... Coincidence? I don't think so.

Having finally tired of merely passing by the location of the so-called 'Soul of Japan', I decided that a trip to the scenic Kamakura-shi and the towns around its supposed location was called for. So I went.

Could anyone dare call it a coincidence that for the three days I was in the 'area', that a veil of cloud blanketed everything? By this time, I was starting to get the impression that it was just me and my affection of traveling during the rainy/cloudy season. Pundits will note that said season lasts from May to April.

Anyhow, just last night (or 17 years ago and last night depending on when I actually write this stuff down), I was sitting in my favourite Ohtawara bar, the 4C, with my friends Matthew and Colin, sucking back tequila-sake (sake is Japanese rice wine) shooters, when it all started to come together. It wasn't just me! It was them! The tourism industry!

There is no Mount Fuji! It's a mass hypnosis created by the Japanese tourist industry to make some yen. 

Yes, I have said that three times now without offering a shred of evidence. Well, I don't have any physical evidence, as I don't believe Mount Fuji physically exists, but I do have a theory, a hangover, and a theory about my hangover.

Throughout the years, the Japanese have said that when one climbs Mount Fuji, they are given wisdom. To climb it a second time is a fool's folly. A third time up the hill, and you are probably ready for that lobotomy. This is true, except for that part about the lobotomy. I'll explain why in a second.

People who attempt to climb Fuji-san (which sounds a bit dirty to me) in an attempt to gain wisdom arrive at the base of a real mountain. So there is a mountain.

They begin climbing it, and after awhile, they are forced to step into one of the conveniently placed 'shelters'. As soon as they step inside, they are bombarded with a gas assailing their synaptic nerves. The Japanese Tourist Board now controls their mind.

The brain-washed wisdom seekers are then led to another room - a virtual-reality room, where they believe they are completing the rest of their journey. It's made to seem like climbing the mountain is exhausting 

After an appreciable amount of time, the victims are then led to a large room that is created to look like the top of what the Tourist Board wants Mount Fuji to look like. There, the 'climbers' take umpteen photographs and are thus sated.

Next, they are led to the "down" part of the virtual-reality room where they are allowed to 'climb back down' the imaginary mountain. The Tourism Board then implants a message of how bone-crushingly weary they are and tells them they shouldn't try to climb it again. Once they reach the so-called 'shelter' again, they are revived from their stupor and walk out to finish their trek down the real mountain. 

The tired and disoriented climbers go home and never want to climb it again. 

Sometimes that implanted message erodes after time, and people attempt another climb - a fool's folly. But, the synaptic-snapping gas will work its magic again, though this second dose can caused further disorientation and an even greater loss of brain cells. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention... the synaptic nerve gas causes brain cell loss. 

A third 'climb' up the molehill... well, my friend Jim falls into that category... as he doesn't quite seem himself anymore.

I do believe that Mount Fuji once existed as people think it is nowadays. But I believe it was bombed during WWII, or there was an earthquake or Godzilla stomped on it in during one of his yearly forays into Tokyo--but it was reduced to a mere anthill in size. Fearing that the Japanese people would thus lose faith in the war, their country, their Emperor, and Godzilla, I believe this elaborate hoax was thusly concocted. 

And, as for all of you people who believe you have seen Mount Fuji from a distance... well, have you ever hard of a laser hologram? 

Think about it... I would, but my brain is screaming out for some Aspirin,

Somewhere in Al Capone's vault with Geraldo Rivera,

Andrew Joseph

Today's title is brought to you by the letter See, and is performed by The Beatles. You can listen and think you are seeing a video for it HERE.

PS: Not sure what I mean about Al Capone's vault? HERE. 

PPS: Godzilla: Check out the cover-up HERE, HERE and HERE.