Another Brick In The Wall - Part 3

Would you like to see an example of unfortunate timing?

Take a look at the photograph to the left.

The minifigures (known as MiniFigs) are made by the Danish firm Lego. They are part of the Series 4 figures - 16 figures  - one each in a foil package - and you never know what you are going to get inside.

Do you think Lego expected an earthquake to spawn a tsunami which spawned a near-nuclear disaster in Fukushima-ken, Japan? Of course not. But take a closer look at the two figures presented here. They are part of Series 4 released about one month ago in mid-April of 2011.

The one in red is a beautiful Japanese Geisha with a fan, while the one in yellow is a man in a radiation suit with some sort of clean-up device! What are the odds?

These Lego mystery figures are not your run of the mill figures... they are special... for example, the other 14 figures in this set include: a gnome-ish fisherman; a musketeer; a punk rock guitarist; a female surfer; a viking; Frankenstein's monster; a hockey player; a bespectacled skateboarder; an American sailor (which is also funny considering there's a Japanese Geisha in the set!); a soccer player; a Wolfman; a painter with paintbrush and palette; a female figure skater and; an Evil Scientist complete with wild hair, goggles and a flask with green liquid - radioactive, perhaps.

Lego is something I enjoy, but the combined figures of radiation suit guy and the Japanese Geisha is... unfortunate.

Somewhere making a Japanese scene,
Andrew Joseph
Today's song title is by Pink Floyd. It's Part 3... I'm saving Parts 1 and 2 for other blogs I have in mind (something about schools and perhaps something about airplanes). Yes... I do think about what I'm going to post up here for your reading enjoyment: LEGO and enjoy the short song. 
PS: That choking hazard warning on the Lego package was apt as I nearly did choke when I found these two figures in the set!
PPS: It's been very frustrating. Of some 22 packages purchased, I have three Geisha, two Evil Scientists; four sailors; two vikings; two skateboarders;  two skaters; and three soccer players. I mean... I'd kill for three musketeers and five or six hockey players (I am from Canada, you know!). And since they make an equal number of each... anyone want to trade (I also need the painter and gnome fisherman)?    
PPPS: If anyone would like to purchase either the first and/or second issue of Evil Scientist Quarterly written by myself with art and graphic layouts by Steve Guzelis, it's $3 Cdn... and you can e-mail me at the address above the blog title! Obviously, it's all tongue-in-cheek funny (and clean - no swear words!)

Somebody To Love

Because my ego pre-supposes you liked that comic story I wrote while in Japan back in 1992 (you can read it here: The Irrationality Of My Goldfish), here's the other fish tale that appeared in the same comic book: Strange Fun Comics #2, published by Strange Fun Comics. It's called: A Different Scale Of Thought. Art is by the awesome Pa5cal St. Clair, Edited by Steve Guzelis, and written by your old pal Andrew Joseph. Hey! That's me. It's also a much better looking representation of me, as I enjoy writing in the first-person to make people who know me a bit edgy. Let's just say that when I first published the story in an issue of the Tatami Times newsletter for Tochigi-ken JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme people, some people were very concerned for my mental well-being... fearing I was doing drugs. I wasn't and don't. My reality is way more weird than your fantasy.

Somewhere trippy,
Andrew Joseph   
Today's title is by The Jefferson Airplane, with their classic song available for your listening pleasure HERE.

Fishin' Blues

The following comic book story is about me and my goldfish entitled: The Irrationality Of My Goldfish. I previously presented that tale to you HERE, as I wrote it back in March of 1992. However, in the summer of 2001, it was published as a comic book story in Strange Fun Comics #2 - published by Strange Fun Comics. Art is by fellow Torontonian Kyu Shim, Edited by pal Steve Guzelis of Illinois, and written of course by yours truly. I know it's just me, but it's awesome! As an aside, there was another goldfish story in that same issue written by me... and I'll present that to you very soon. It, too was written that month and year while I lived in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. The guy in the story is me - when I had a ponytail.

Somewhere reading a comic book,

Andrew Joseph

Today's title is by Taj Mahal and can be heard by clicking on THEHOOK.

Hungry Like The Wolf

The Japanese can be weird and interesting people. I've found them to be smart, intelligent people who work hard, have families, struggle to survive, own a great sense of humour--hey! They sound a lot like me! And like me, they also love comic books!

I knew I loved Japan.
Even before I ever had an inkling that I would ever end up in Japan, I had read a few Japanese comic books--and unlike Japanese animated cartoons (anime)--I loved them.
More on anime soon--I didn't hate all anime, just most of it...
Anyhow, starting in 1987, I read: Mai, the Psychic Girl; Area 88; The Legend of Kamui; and Lone Wolf and Cub. These were all Japanese comic books (called manga) that had been translated into English for the first time ever. While Lone Wolf & Cub were published in English by First Comics, the others were published first by Eclipse Comics and later Viz Comics.
For three years, I never missed an issue--until I, myself, left Canada to journey to Japan.
Almost immediately upon landing at Narita Airport in/or near Tokyo, I noticed a lot of Japanese men (and a couple of women) reading large telephone book-sized comic books (Check THIS site out for an example). Colour covers with black and white art.
Was Japan a haven for fellow nerds? Oh gawds, I hoped so. 
You know... one of my favourite lines I still quote--that no one knows where the heck I got it from, is from Area 88: "We have abandoned God and shaken hands with the devil." That's so deep... even though it means they are doing bad things...
Japanese comics, as mentioned, are black and white collections... they usually have maybe 4 or 5 different monthly comics contained within the weekly and/or monthly collection that are all being published for the first time.  
While I may applaud the Japanese for their love of comic books, sometimes one just has to shake their head at some of the crap produced. By that, I mean a character called Rapeman. Yup. It is what is - nothing is lost in translation... I believe the motto is: "Righting wrongs through penetration." Satire or not, you don't trivialize rape.
On the complete opposite spectrum... there's a great comic book called Lone Wolf and Cub (子連れ狼, Kozure Ōkami).
Created by writer Kazuo Koike and artist Goseki Kojima, this manga was first published in 1970... it was such a hit, that it spawned six films, four plays and a popular television series. Basically, it's a samurai comic, or what I call a Japanese western... and man, do the Japanese love their samurai stories. 
This particular series is huge. How huge? Well, in 1990, I was asked if I knew anything about Japanese comic books, and I mentioned this--every one of the 30 kids in my class, and the Japanese teacher of English, all sucked air in through their teeth, smiled and nodded their head in collective appreciation.
The Lone Wolf and Cub manga is set in the Tokugawa era (which admittedly spans 250 years from 1603-1868) and revolves around Ogami Ittō, the Shogun's executioner. After becoming a masterless samurai after false accusations from another clan, he becomes a hired assassin. Along with his motherless three-year-old son, Daigorō, they seek revenge on the Yagyū clan and are known as the push-cart assassin.
The comic book is renowned for its fantastic writing and absolutely stunning artwork--and I completely  agree. 
People who say comic books are stupid and will rot your mind should try reading a comic book like this--or even one put out today--like Evil Scientist Quarterly, written by myself and put together by artist Steve Guzelis... copies are $3 apiece. Even for family. Published by Strange Fun Comics (see below).
So... what's the point of this blog? Good question.
Japan loves its manga. It's a part of its culture. The rest of the world could learn a thing or two from Japan--and should support its local comic book industry.

Somewhere reading a comic book,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by Duran Duran... and while not strictly rock and or roll, it's a good song. You can see the video HERE.
PS: The photo above shows off 12 collected editions of Lone Wolf and Cub - non-translated, it's all Japanese! I purchased them all one day in Tokyo back in 1991, with each 284 page collection costing me 680 Yen ($6.80 US). At the time of purchase, only 12 editions had been released, though there are 28 editions for the entire series run . That's how popular the series was.
PPS: To order a copy of any of the comics published by Strange Fun Comics, visit the website: STRANGEFUNCOMICS and then go to the 'contact us' section and click on either my e-mail or Steve's. You'll be glad you did. Oh, and be sure to mention where you heard about it.

I Am The Walrus

This one is dedicated to Nicholas Strachan and to Steve Guzelis.

I haven't mentioned Nicholas Strachan in this blog until this time - and that may be because while he was an extremely dry wit and a confidante, few of my adventures involved him.

Having said that, Nick was a major influence on my life, and whether he ever knows that or not, I owe him. Big time.

Nick was from Etobicoke, lived maybe three kilometres north of me in Canada - though we never met until we arrived in Japan. I'll relate more about an adventure I had with Nick and friend Chris Rathbone at a later date.

Nick knew I was troubled in Japan. He saw in me a person who was having difficulty in coping with life - not my life involving Japan and the Japanese, but my life. Even now, 20 years later, it's difficult to write about this because I don't really know how to thank him.

Y'see, he realized my mood swings were all over the place and he lent me a book to read. It was on Zen Buddhism. I'll spare you all the philosophy involved, but I will relate to you the three simple phrases that helped me make it through three years in Japan with my sanity (such that it is) intact.

I learned this:
The past is gone - you can't touch it, see it, feel it or hear it. What memories you have can't come close to what one felt when it was first experienced, so why dwell there?
The future is unwritten - it hasn't happened yet - so there's no use in worrying about it.
The present - that's all you really have, so waste it not.


Pretty friggin' deep, huh? I haven't delved further into zen Buddhism. I haven't purchased an orange robe or parked myself under a Bodhi tree to find my inner peace. But I really dig those three points as a way to live my life.

It may seem stupid that I am living my life here in the present by relating to you my past in Japan, but just know that I am having fun NOW presenting this stuff to you.

As well, Nick was also generous enough to tell me that I'm a pretty good writer - no one had ever done that before. He made me think I could actually be a writer, and not just a journalist. He also advised me to check my work better - to ensure my spelling and grammar were correct so as to not cheapen whatever point I was trying to make in my stories. I can't say I have always been successful, Nick - but I do try, and as such you are never far from my thoughts. Aside from this blog, I work as a writer in my 9-5 job.

As for the other guy mentioned at the top of this blog - Steve... aside from us becoming great friends and creating comic books together, he's also one of true genuinely nice guys on this planet. He's also recently become involved in Zen Buddhism.

That's the intro. Here's the blog. It's about a doll.
The photo above is a Daruma doll. According to legend, a monk (the originator of Buddhism) named
Bodhidharma sat facing a wall in meditation for nine years without moving, which caused his legs to fall off from atrophy. He was wrapped only in his robe, which is why the Daruma doll looks just like a head only.

The Japanese sell these dolls at  the temples. They usually come as paper mâché creations, with the robe/body painted in red. Mine isn't, but more in a second. The eyes are usually two empty white spaces. When purchased, a person makes a wish, and colours in the left eye of the doll. When the wish comes true, the right eye is coloured in.

My large doll is covered in silk fabric and is not paper mâché, rather a cotton wadding wrapped in silk. My Daruma doll is apparently a wedding doll - aside from the silks, it also has a beautiful bow wrapped around the mouth area. I'll be honest, I've searched for any information on this particular style of Daruma and have found nothing except what I was told 20 years ago.And my memory is fading. It's a good thing I didn't get too deep into Zen Buddhism and remembered I could write stuff down.

Anyhow... these classic red Daruma dolls are found in almost every Japanese home and are a part of their culture. Like Nick, it beats me why I've never mentioned it before.

Somewhere talking to my nephew Bodhi,
Andrew Joseph

Today's title is by The Beatles: SITTING ON A CORNFLAKE

Break On Through: Obon II

(He’s ba-ack! Here in 2009, the family has moved out of our house into my dad’s empty home. Empty in the sense that no one has lived there since we moved out two years ago after our house fire. The Chicago comic con was fun and Steve Guzelis and I got a chance to see Tom Wachowski: friend, artist and a main cog of Strange Fun Comics who was hospitalized. When we saw him two weeks ago, he was alert, talkative and witty. Unfortunately he passed away a week later from pancreatic and diabetes-related illness. He was 42 and leaves a nine-year-old son behind. This episode is dedicated to Tom).

Back to 1990: I think I like sake (Japanese rice wine, and is pronounced sah-kay). Let’s just say that as far as liquids go, it’s my new best friend (except for Coke, of course). After quickly getting drunk and being too stupid to know I was drunk, I have a vague recollection of moving. Moving… must be some sort of kismet thing 19 years from now.
When next I opened my eyes, I was home and fully-dressed lying on my bed. The doorbell rang.
Slowly but surely, I got to the door, opened it and removed the finger of Hanazaki-san from the doorbell. Not a real hangover but an incredible simulation.
He asked if I was ready to go. I glanced at my watch (incidentally, as I write this blog 19 years later, I’m wearing the same watch. My own time machine), it was August 14, and the sun was starting to get low in the sky.
Not wanting to sound ignorant because I had no idea of what he meant, I tried to tell him that I wasn’t ready yet and needed a few moments to get re-dressed. Instead, I think I said: “Nrrrrrrr”, which roughly translates into: “I slept for 20 hours?”.
I was wearing clean everything and was out the door in one Canadian minute, or 20 minutes Japanese time. Remember, time is only relative to the observer,
Now, the following is, I swear, 100 per cent true.
Apparently I was invited by Hanazaki-san to have dinner with his family, but because I wasn’t hip to the intricacies of Obon, I had no idea that the family dinner entailed multiple, multiple generations of Hanazaki’s.
Sitting down cross-legged on some pillows on a tatami (grass) mat, Hanazaki-san’s wife started bringing out the food and drinks. There were six place settings at the table but only four of us sitting at the table. The missus began piling food (no idea what it was, but it was tasty!) onto the two empty settings to her left before passing it to myself, her husband and 20-something son.
She then lifted up a large carafe of warm sake and began pouring some into Hanazaki-san’s glass, then mine, her son’s and then her own. She then poured sake into glasses for the two empty place settings.
Then it got odd.
Mrs. Hanazaki then turned to the empty space top her right and began clapping her hands and chanting “Iki. Iki. Iki” (ic-key.ic-key.ic-key), which roughly translates into “go-go-go.”
Five seconds later, she began applauding and saying what I assume was the Japanese equivalent of “yay!” It sounded like “Yay!”.
Now maybe it was because I was watching her intently or maybe it was the new sake melding with yesterday’s sake, but when I glanced back at the glasses in front of the empty place settings, they were empty. I suppose her son could have drunk them, but I didn’t see it.
Mrs. Hanazaki filled up everyone’s glasses again—including Casper and Spooky—and began her drinking chant and clapping again.
I sucked my drink back like it was water… because I must have been dehydrated from last night’s festivities… but mostly because I was a tad weirded out by what I had just seen.
On the ride home—driven by the missus who, aside from myself was the only one not drunk—Hanazaki-san explained what Obon was about. Now I understood. The two empty plates were for the family ancestors.
Despite the bizarreness of the evening, I am humbled that I was invited to partake in the family dinner with the entire Hanazaki family. And I do mean entire family.
So far, this is two nights in a row with real food. Mooching meals… this could be a way I survive this place, for goodness sake. You can read that last word any way you wish.

Somewhere old friends are not forgot,
Andrew Joseph
PS - Title is by The Doors.