As many of you know, I'm often criticized for my less-than-symmetrical choices of footwear. Yet it seems that this time the asymmetrical boot is on the other foot, so to speak.
Evidently there are some who would spend nearly $200 on a pair of boots and yet not notice while trying them on in the store that the left is substantially larger than the right... maybe someone's mind was on her puppy rather than on her dogs. ;)
[ed - so I actually wrote this in reference to my girlfriend at the time, but then got a perplexed email from my mom. Apparently, at the same time my girlfriend had bought these boots, my mom had also bought a pair of boots, one of which was too big for her, which she hadn't noticed... and she also had a puppy!]
13 November 2007
10 November 2007
Clinton vs Obama
My friend Berta just posted this article on Facebook: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200712/obama
I haven't been following the political race too closely, but I think this article brings out a number of interesting points. It's also more well-written than any summary I could write, but I'll write one anyway for the "skimmers" who seem to be so disproportionately overrepresented in my blog readership... :P
First, the main thrust of the article is that the most important thing about this election is not about the specifics of what we're going to do in Iraq, or how the health care system will evolve, or policy about gay marriage... there aren't so many dramatic differences between candidates' stances on these issues, in terms of what actions they would realistically take.
The article's main argument is that, moreso than these specific policy issues, the biggest issue is the deep schism in American society that reaches back to Vietnam, the hippies, and the Civil Rights movement, a problem which has been greatly exacerbated by the fundamentalist right leaning of the Bush administration. It argues that Obama would be a much better choice than Clinton in terms of unifying the nation and bridging this divide.
There are two other points I found salient in the article. The first was sort of a sidenote, but it made me think... nobody questions the power of the media in shaping the outcome of an election. However, a divided nation voting between diametrically opposed candidates provides an exciting and dramatic battle, captures the public interest, and consequently boosts ratings. So really, healing the nation is not in the interest of the media. Keeping things tense and divided makes for a better show.
Another, unrelated, point was that many of the children in the Middle East have never known any American president other than Bush, and it is critically important to change the image that America projects if we want to gain the trust of the Muslim world.
Anyway, as I said, the article is much more well-written than any summary I can provide. My English skills are really going downhill, as are my Japanese skills. Soon I will only be able to communicate in grunts, gestures, and source code.
I haven't been following the political race too closely, but I think this article brings out a number of interesting points. It's also more well-written than any summary I could write, but I'll write one anyway for the "skimmers" who seem to be so disproportionately overrepresented in my blog readership... :P
First, the main thrust of the article is that the most important thing about this election is not about the specifics of what we're going to do in Iraq, or how the health care system will evolve, or policy about gay marriage... there aren't so many dramatic differences between candidates' stances on these issues, in terms of what actions they would realistically take.
The article's main argument is that, moreso than these specific policy issues, the biggest issue is the deep schism in American society that reaches back to Vietnam, the hippies, and the Civil Rights movement, a problem which has been greatly exacerbated by the fundamentalist right leaning of the Bush administration. It argues that Obama would be a much better choice than Clinton in terms of unifying the nation and bridging this divide.
There are two other points I found salient in the article. The first was sort of a sidenote, but it made me think... nobody questions the power of the media in shaping the outcome of an election. However, a divided nation voting between diametrically opposed candidates provides an exciting and dramatic battle, captures the public interest, and consequently boosts ratings. So really, healing the nation is not in the interest of the media. Keeping things tense and divided makes for a better show.
Another, unrelated, point was that many of the children in the Middle East have never known any American president other than Bush, and it is critically important to change the image that America projects if we want to gain the trust of the Muslim world.
Anyway, as I said, the article is much more well-written than any summary I can provide. My English skills are really going downhill, as are my Japanese skills. Soon I will only be able to communicate in grunts, gestures, and source code.
06 November 2007
A Short Memento
Ok, I know I've been terrible about blogging for ... well, since last November, when I nearly killed myself with NaBloPoMo.
I can't possibly catch up on everything in one post.
... or can I?
Well, certainly not with pictures anyway, but I can hit the highlights.
Let's go in reverse chronological order, shall we? Sort of Memento-style.
This Evening
I recover, trying to gain my bearings. What happened, an earthquake or something?! Standing in the kitchen... it looks like I'm in the middle of making some lemonade. I finish filling the two-liter pitcher with water, and try it. Wow, that's insanely sweet! I probably could have made ten liters with that...
I pour a cup and go sit at my computer to blog.
Earlier This Evening
Settling in at home on a quiet, rainy night, I go to the fridge to find... no juice to be found. Nothing at all to drink, really. I'm not about to go juicing shiitake mushrooms, and I'm not really up for wine or anything, so I decide to make some lemonade.
As this page says, everybody remembers the ingredients, but not necessarily the quantities. I followed the instructions - one cup sugar, one cup lemon juice, one cup water, and take a sip... sensory overload and the world goes black... whoever wrote that web page was trying to kill someone.
Sunday
I wake up. It's twilight outside... I'm in bed. The clock says it's around five. Am? Pm? I go shower and shave, and it's night by the time I get out. Guess it was PM. I go to the store and pick up a lot of groceries. So many that I don't seem to have room for juice. Has it been this long since I've been food shopping?
Saturday
I step off the plane, go through immigration and customs, and walk out of the airport heavily overdressed. Despite the autumn chill in the air, I find that I'm sweating. I strip off my jacket and overshirt, and buy my ticket for the bus into Osaka.
Thursday night
I am standing in a large room, bright white fluorescent lights mounted all across the wall facing me, in sort of a zigzag pattern. I turn around, and vast planes of blue stretch out above and below me. I'm feeling a little sleepy, and I get the nagging feeling that I need to go pack my bags.
Earlier thursday night
Nick walks into the hotel lobby. "Hey Dylan! Long time, no see! So are you ready to head out to the modern art museum?"
Haha... ok, writing like this takes too much time and thought. I'll never get back to the summer, or even my birthday party for that matter.
Guess I'll have to try again tomorrow. Almost over the jet lag, so I'm actually starting to get sleepy at 4am.
'night
I can't possibly catch up on everything in one post.
... or can I?
Well, certainly not with pictures anyway, but I can hit the highlights.
Let's go in reverse chronological order, shall we? Sort of Memento-style.
This Evening
I recover, trying to gain my bearings. What happened, an earthquake or something?! Standing in the kitchen... it looks like I'm in the middle of making some lemonade. I finish filling the two-liter pitcher with water, and try it. Wow, that's insanely sweet! I probably could have made ten liters with that...
I pour a cup and go sit at my computer to blog.
Earlier This Evening
Settling in at home on a quiet, rainy night, I go to the fridge to find... no juice to be found. Nothing at all to drink, really. I'm not about to go juicing shiitake mushrooms, and I'm not really up for wine or anything, so I decide to make some lemonade.
As this page says, everybody remembers the ingredients, but not necessarily the quantities. I followed the instructions - one cup sugar, one cup lemon juice, one cup water, and take a sip... sensory overload and the world goes black... whoever wrote that web page was trying to kill someone.
Sunday
I wake up. It's twilight outside... I'm in bed. The clock says it's around five. Am? Pm? I go shower and shave, and it's night by the time I get out. Guess it was PM. I go to the store and pick up a lot of groceries. So many that I don't seem to have room for juice. Has it been this long since I've been food shopping?
Saturday
I step off the plane, go through immigration and customs, and walk out of the airport heavily overdressed. Despite the autumn chill in the air, I find that I'm sweating. I strip off my jacket and overshirt, and buy my ticket for the bus into Osaka.
Thursday night
I am standing in a large room, bright white fluorescent lights mounted all across the wall facing me, in sort of a zigzag pattern. I turn around, and vast planes of blue stretch out above and below me. I'm feeling a little sleepy, and I get the nagging feeling that I need to go pack my bags.
Earlier thursday night
Nick walks into the hotel lobby. "Hey Dylan! Long time, no see! So are you ready to head out to the modern art museum?"
Haha... ok, writing like this takes too much time and thought. I'll never get back to the summer, or even my birthday party for that matter.
Guess I'll have to try again tomorrow. Almost over the jet lag, so I'm actually starting to get sleepy at 4am.
'night
19 October 2007
Dylan's 20th Birthday!
Hey everybody,
Tomorrow's my birthday! That's right... I'm going to be 20!
Gonna have a great party. I promise I'll post pics!
Anyway, heading out soon to go enjoy my last night of being 1F years old... ;)
Tomorrow's my birthday! That's right... I'm going to be 20!
Gonna have a great party. I promise I'll post pics!
Anyway, heading out soon to go enjoy my last night of being 1F years old... ;)
12 October 2007
Intelligence
Cracking Go
So I was playing with Facebook today, and I ran across a link to this IEEE Spectrum article entitled "Cracking Go". Much more complex than chess, the game of go provides an extremely difficult challenge for computers due to the vast number of possible moves at any time and the complexity of evaluating board positions. Essentially what the author is saying in this article is that due to continually increasing computing power and improved search algorithms, he predicts that in the near future, computers will be able to beat the world's greatest masters at the game of go.
I don't disagree with him on that point. However, throughout the article he continually sings the praises of "brute force" techniques, touting them as being superior to AI techniques that mimic human reasoning because they are simpler to program, leading to fewer bugs, and they scale smoothly with computing power.
I don't disagree with him on those points either. Certainly, with sufficient processing power and clever pruning of decision trees and caching of information, brute force techniques can and will beat top-ranking go masters someday.
But is this interesting?
I would say no. It would certainly be an impressive accomplishment from an engineering standpoint, but I don't think I would call it artificial intelligence. Or even a significant step towards artificial intelligence. Brute force, even brute force with finesse, isn't intelligent.
Man vs Machine
I'd like to mention two other topics addressing this point. First, another IEEE Spectrum article, "Psyching out Computer Chess Players", (which is shorter and maybe a more interesting read for non-computer geeks than the previous article) described the current state of computer chess programs. Essentially, it says that chess grandmasters are still able to hold their own against today's most advanced computer opponents, in spite of the fact that both their hardware and software have improved dramatically since Deep Blue's historic defeat of Kasparov in 1997.
The point the article brings up is that human players are good at long-term strategy, while computers are good at rapid calculation. Thus, anticomputer strategies often hinge on setting up many moves ahead for critical positions which are beyond the computer's prediction horizon. To me, the ability to do that is a clear sign of great intelligence on the part of the human players, and absolute lack of intelligence on the part of the computer. I really don't think that we can say computers have become much more "intelligent" as long as they rely on primarily brute-force methods.
Or can we? What does intelligence mean in the first place? Why do we care whether a computer can beat a human at chess? I always thought that what we cared about was how intelligent the computer was, and assumed that chess was a good test of intelligence. After all, it requires analysis, understanding, strategy, creativity, flexibility, and guts. In my mind, however, a brute-force approach has the effect of removing all of those interesting elements from the problem! Instead of creating machines which can reason, understand, doubt, guess, be creative, take risks, and plan ahead, we are instead creating soulless systems that are ruthlessly efficient at evaluating hundreds of millions of board positions per second. That's not creating intelligence... it's sidestepping the problem.
My Latest Addiction
I bought a Rubik's Cube the other day, and it said on the package, "If you can solve it without looking at a book, your IQ is at least 130." What does that mean, solve it without looking at a book? Does that mean to solve it through on-the-spot intuitive analysis? Clearly, looking at a book would give you all the algorithms you need to solve the cube "without thinking". But... what if you developed those same algorithms yourself, and then used them? Where does the "intelligence" happen? What if you really are using algorithms subconsciously, and you don't realize it? I think that happens often. I tend to find myself making the same sequences of moves over and over again to solve the same kinds of problems, without ever having stopped to think "ok, this is an algorithm for solving this situation".
Maybe part of the "intelligence" is in the process of creative synthesis, where random twists of the cube are distilled into general patterns. Certainly that could be done in a brute-force way, but not very efficiently... the efficiency comes from recognizing patterns and arriving at the algorithms through educated guesses and learning from mistakes. A billion monkeys with a billion cubes might by chance arrive at a complete set of algorithms necessary for solving a cube, but given the choice I'd rather hire three real smart people to do it.
Another, and more essential, part of the "intelligence", I think, is the planning process. The problem definition. Who says we need algorithms in the first place? Seeing that need is the first important thing, and then you have to break the problem down into its component parts: algorithms for switching the corners, for twisting the corners, for interchanging the edges, etc. This top-level strategy is something that even a billion monkeys wouldn't come up with.
As for my personal cube technique, I'm teaching myself a new system for solving it. My old technique was to solve one side, then put the corners in place, then to exchange the edge pieces last. It was pretty easy, and I could pretty consistently solve the cube in under 5 minutes. Sometimes under 4. There wasn't much thinking involved, and I was limited mostly by my physical speed and the inefficiency of my algorithms. It was something that even one monkey (albeit VERY well trained) could do.
The new technique I'm learning is this speed-cubing technique. This strategy of building out from the corner rather than solving an entire face first makes a lot of sense. However, I have been solving one face of the cube since I was a little kid. The algorithms for doing that are so deeply ingrained in my mind that it's almost unconscious. Yet this approach requires a different set of techniques. I find I'm much slower with this new system, but the process of solving the cube is much more interesting. It's less mechanical, and I have to use my intuition more, especially during the first stages. It's a real challenge to my mind, not in terms of memorizing 7-move sequences or anything, but actually in terms of pushing the limits of my creativity, my spatial visualization, my lookahead. I'm limited much less by physical speed now and mostly by cognitive load. I'm slowly but steadily improving, and I certainly don't envision any monkeys catching up with me on this task.
The Future
So, where is this leading? Well, regarding AI, I would have to side with those who are trying to develop thinking machines rather than brute-force systems. Granted, statistical and brute-force approaches are useful and effective for the right tasks. Perhaps it's a trade-off - the cold, efficient reliability of a pocket calculator (or a machine gun) versus the creativity, insight, ... and perhaps also the fallibility, of man.
On the other hand, maybe the ability of computers to do boring, uninteresting calculations at blazing speeds will provide a much-needed wake-up call to our world's educational systems. We will abandon much of our rote memorization in favor of challenging, stimulating problems that push the limits of our creativity, of our insight, of our intelligent reasoning. We will do this because we are forced to. Like Kasparov, we need to take every advantage of our uniquely human abilities to out-think the computers, which are catching up to us at a ferocious pace, nipping, as it were, at our cognitive heels.
We must adapt and evolve, or be made obsolete. Maybe that "How to Survive a Robot Uprising" book I keep under my pillow will turn out to be useful after all.
So I was playing with Facebook today, and I ran across a link to this IEEE Spectrum article entitled "Cracking Go". Much more complex than chess, the game of go provides an extremely difficult challenge for computers due to the vast number of possible moves at any time and the complexity of evaluating board positions. Essentially what the author is saying in this article is that due to continually increasing computing power and improved search algorithms, he predicts that in the near future, computers will be able to beat the world's greatest masters at the game of go.
I don't disagree with him on that point. However, throughout the article he continually sings the praises of "brute force" techniques, touting them as being superior to AI techniques that mimic human reasoning because they are simpler to program, leading to fewer bugs, and they scale smoothly with computing power.
I don't disagree with him on those points either. Certainly, with sufficient processing power and clever pruning of decision trees and caching of information, brute force techniques can and will beat top-ranking go masters someday.
But is this interesting?
I would say no. It would certainly be an impressive accomplishment from an engineering standpoint, but I don't think I would call it artificial intelligence. Or even a significant step towards artificial intelligence. Brute force, even brute force with finesse, isn't intelligent.
Man vs Machine
I'd like to mention two other topics addressing this point. First, another IEEE Spectrum article, "Psyching out Computer Chess Players", (which is shorter and maybe a more interesting read for non-computer geeks than the previous article) described the current state of computer chess programs. Essentially, it says that chess grandmasters are still able to hold their own against today's most advanced computer opponents, in spite of the fact that both their hardware and software have improved dramatically since Deep Blue's historic defeat of Kasparov in 1997.
The point the article brings up is that human players are good at long-term strategy, while computers are good at rapid calculation. Thus, anticomputer strategies often hinge on setting up many moves ahead for critical positions which are beyond the computer's prediction horizon. To me, the ability to do that is a clear sign of great intelligence on the part of the human players, and absolute lack of intelligence on the part of the computer. I really don't think that we can say computers have become much more "intelligent" as long as they rely on primarily brute-force methods.
Or can we? What does intelligence mean in the first place? Why do we care whether a computer can beat a human at chess? I always thought that what we cared about was how intelligent the computer was, and assumed that chess was a good test of intelligence. After all, it requires analysis, understanding, strategy, creativity, flexibility, and guts. In my mind, however, a brute-force approach has the effect of removing all of those interesting elements from the problem! Instead of creating machines which can reason, understand, doubt, guess, be creative, take risks, and plan ahead, we are instead creating soulless systems that are ruthlessly efficient at evaluating hundreds of millions of board positions per second. That's not creating intelligence... it's sidestepping the problem.
My Latest Addiction
I bought a Rubik's Cube the other day, and it said on the package, "If you can solve it without looking at a book, your IQ is at least 130." What does that mean, solve it without looking at a book? Does that mean to solve it through on-the-spot intuitive analysis? Clearly, looking at a book would give you all the algorithms you need to solve the cube "without thinking". But... what if you developed those same algorithms yourself, and then used them? Where does the "intelligence" happen? What if you really are using algorithms subconsciously, and you don't realize it? I think that happens often. I tend to find myself making the same sequences of moves over and over again to solve the same kinds of problems, without ever having stopped to think "ok, this is an algorithm for solving this situation".
Maybe part of the "intelligence" is in the process of creative synthesis, where random twists of the cube are distilled into general patterns. Certainly that could be done in a brute-force way, but not very efficiently... the efficiency comes from recognizing patterns and arriving at the algorithms through educated guesses and learning from mistakes. A billion monkeys with a billion cubes might by chance arrive at a complete set of algorithms necessary for solving a cube, but given the choice I'd rather hire three real smart people to do it.
Another, and more essential, part of the "intelligence", I think, is the planning process. The problem definition. Who says we need algorithms in the first place? Seeing that need is the first important thing, and then you have to break the problem down into its component parts: algorithms for switching the corners, for twisting the corners, for interchanging the edges, etc. This top-level strategy is something that even a billion monkeys wouldn't come up with.
As for my personal cube technique, I'm teaching myself a new system for solving it. My old technique was to solve one side, then put the corners in place, then to exchange the edge pieces last. It was pretty easy, and I could pretty consistently solve the cube in under 5 minutes. Sometimes under 4. There wasn't much thinking involved, and I was limited mostly by my physical speed and the inefficiency of my algorithms. It was something that even one monkey (albeit VERY well trained) could do.
The new technique I'm learning is this speed-cubing technique. This strategy of building out from the corner rather than solving an entire face first makes a lot of sense. However, I have been solving one face of the cube since I was a little kid. The algorithms for doing that are so deeply ingrained in my mind that it's almost unconscious. Yet this approach requires a different set of techniques. I find I'm much slower with this new system, but the process of solving the cube is much more interesting. It's less mechanical, and I have to use my intuition more, especially during the first stages. It's a real challenge to my mind, not in terms of memorizing 7-move sequences or anything, but actually in terms of pushing the limits of my creativity, my spatial visualization, my lookahead. I'm limited much less by physical speed now and mostly by cognitive load. I'm slowly but steadily improving, and I certainly don't envision any monkeys catching up with me on this task.
The Future
So, where is this leading? Well, regarding AI, I would have to side with those who are trying to develop thinking machines rather than brute-force systems. Granted, statistical and brute-force approaches are useful and effective for the right tasks. Perhaps it's a trade-off - the cold, efficient reliability of a pocket calculator (or a machine gun) versus the creativity, insight, ... and perhaps also the fallibility, of man.
On the other hand, maybe the ability of computers to do boring, uninteresting calculations at blazing speeds will provide a much-needed wake-up call to our world's educational systems. We will abandon much of our rote memorization in favor of challenging, stimulating problems that push the limits of our creativity, of our insight, of our intelligent reasoning. We will do this because we are forced to. Like Kasparov, we need to take every advantage of our uniquely human abilities to out-think the computers, which are catching up to us at a ferocious pace, nipping, as it were, at our cognitive heels.
We must adapt and evolve, or be made obsolete. Maybe that "How to Survive a Robot Uprising" book I keep under my pillow will turn out to be useful after all.
26 September 2007
I'm back!
Hey everyone...
It's been a long time. I haven't slacked on my blog like this in months!
Autumn is here, and the air is starting to get cooler. At night, at least. The days are still miserably hot, but it's nice to stand at the bus stop in the evening and not be drenched with sweat by the time the bus comes.
I just finished a monster deadline... Fingers are crossed now and there's nothing to do but wait. I sincerely hope this paper gets in though... I had to work far harder for this one than for any of my previous papers. Plus the project was pretty cool, and I'd be psyched to present it. :)
I have literally hundreds of pictures to upload from this summer. Bad Dylan. As history has shown, I don't tend to deal with backlogs gracefully.
Anyway, I'll do what I can about the pictures. They take way too long to photoshop. :P
Here are a few to start, though.
First, I love this pic of Yuki and Florian. They're so cute together. :)
This was from our annual trip to Lake Biwa. Just a day trip this year, since we were all too busy for camping.
This one is from the PL Hanabi, perhaps the biggest fireworks festival in the world. We took the advice of a friend I have who lives in that area, and we watched it from a nearby graveyard instead of getting crushed for several hours in the mash of people struggling to watch it from the "official" site.
And finally, here's one of Keiko and me on our 6 month anniversary. Pictures of us together are always hard to find, since we usually take pictures of each other. Hmm... who took this one?
[ed - A number of people have asked me about this last one. Here are links to the original photos I used.]
It's been a long time. I haven't slacked on my blog like this in months!
Autumn is here, and the air is starting to get cooler. At night, at least. The days are still miserably hot, but it's nice to stand at the bus stop in the evening and not be drenched with sweat by the time the bus comes.
I just finished a monster deadline... Fingers are crossed now and there's nothing to do but wait. I sincerely hope this paper gets in though... I had to work far harder for this one than for any of my previous papers. Plus the project was pretty cool, and I'd be psyched to present it. :)
I have literally hundreds of pictures to upload from this summer. Bad Dylan. As history has shown, I don't tend to deal with backlogs gracefully.
Anyway, I'll do what I can about the pictures. They take way too long to photoshop. :P
Here are a few to start, though.
First, I love this pic of Yuki and Florian. They're so cute together. :)
This was from our annual trip to Lake Biwa. Just a day trip this year, since we were all too busy for camping.
This one is from the PL Hanabi, perhaps the biggest fireworks festival in the world. We took the advice of a friend I have who lives in that area, and we watched it from a nearby graveyard instead of getting crushed for several hours in the mash of people struggling to watch it from the "official" site.
And finally, here's one of Keiko and me on our 6 month anniversary. Pictures of us together are always hard to find, since we usually take pictures of each other. Hmm... who took this one?
[ed - A number of people have asked me about this last one. Here are links to the original photos I used.]
14 July 2007
Neighborhood Matsuri
It's 9:00 on a Saturday.
Ok, more like 10. Sleeping in is awesome. It wasn't always that way... when I was a little kid I remember getting up at 5am to catch some obscure Saturday morning cartoons. Weekends and Christmas were times to get up _early_ rather than sleep in. I wonder when that transition came, and if the opposite transition will happen again later in life.
Anyway, as pretty much everyone in Japan knows, this weekend is the Gion Matsuri, which some consider the most famous festival in all Japan. It is also the weekend of Typhoon #4 (back home they give hurricanes cute names, but here they just stick with numbers). My plan up until a few days ago was to go to the matsuri on Sunday with some friends in yukata (pictures will be coming sooner or later) but now that doesn't seem likely.
Gion is not the only place having a matsuri this weekend, though. As I slide open the door and step out onto the veranda for a breath of morning air, I hear the familiar cacophonous, yet compellingly rhythmic, clacking and clanging of a danjiri matsuri floating up to me from the neighborhood below.
I step back inside, wipe the sleep from my eyes, grab my camera, and go back out to try to spot the source of the clattering and shouting. These festivals usually have teams of 40-50 people hauling the danjiri, standing on it, or walking alongside and playing some sort of rhythm instrument, preferably a loud one.
Interestingly, from my 23rd floor vantage point, I can't spot a festival at all.
"DANG di-ga dong DON DON di-ga dong doom DANG di-ga dong DON DON di-ga dong..."
At last, they emerge briefly at a street corner far below.
Can you find them? (Click for larger image)
Haha... kinda like "Where's Waldo" (which, by the way, is called "Where's Wally" in Japanese)
Anyway, the answer is here. You can just barely make out some people dressed completely in white emerging from the street to the left.
The procession moves on slowly, and after they turn the corner by the school, you can get a better view of the arrangement. Two long ropes extend far out in front of the danjiri, and it looks like 20-30 people are pulling it.
They come closer, and as they turn the corner you can get a better view of the danjiri itself, with its rain hood on to protect the fine wood carvings. Remember, it's a portable shrine and a fine piece of artwork.
Here you can see in the side of the danjiri. It looks like there's somebody sitting inside, probably playing taiko drums or something. I've never hauled a danjiri, but I've carried two mikoshi. The first one had little kids inside (actually, not so "little" when their weight is crushing your spine for 4 hours straight) playing taiko, and the second one didn't... I guess it depends on local tradition.
Finally, they arrive at the shrine. These festivals have their roots in Shinto tradition, and thus center around the neighborhood shrines. There is generally an element of testosterone involved as well, and the mikoshi matsuri I've been to have generally involved hoisting the massive mikoshi overhead and spinning it around until you are about to collapse and be crushed to death. This matsuri didn't seem to be quite so extreme, but here you can see them lining up on one side, preparing to pop a danjiri wheelie.
...and it's in the air. Note that the shrine grounds are the only green to be found in the whole neighborhood. To me, that's one of the best things about the preservation of traditional religion here. Everywhere else they seem to have no qualms about not only tearing down forests, but decapitating entire mountains to make space for housing developments, shopping malls, and pachinko parlors. Only on the holy ground is nature really held sacred.
So, it's taken me so long to write this up that the danjiri-pullers have finished their lunch break and are now back out on the streets. I guess it's time to go experience some more of life rather than just blogging about it.
Ok, more like 10. Sleeping in is awesome. It wasn't always that way... when I was a little kid I remember getting up at 5am to catch some obscure Saturday morning cartoons. Weekends and Christmas were times to get up _early_ rather than sleep in. I wonder when that transition came, and if the opposite transition will happen again later in life.
Anyway, as pretty much everyone in Japan knows, this weekend is the Gion Matsuri, which some consider the most famous festival in all Japan. It is also the weekend of Typhoon #4 (back home they give hurricanes cute names, but here they just stick with numbers). My plan up until a few days ago was to go to the matsuri on Sunday with some friends in yukata (pictures will be coming sooner or later) but now that doesn't seem likely.
Gion is not the only place having a matsuri this weekend, though. As I slide open the door and step out onto the veranda for a breath of morning air, I hear the familiar cacophonous, yet compellingly rhythmic, clacking and clanging of a danjiri matsuri floating up to me from the neighborhood below.
A danjiri is a kind of portable shrine with wheels that people push through neighborhoods during festivals. Not to be confused with a mikoshi, which has no wheels and has to be hoisted on the shoulders, danjiri are pulled by ropes. The most famous danjiri matsuri I know of is held in Kishiwada, in southern Osaka, in early September, and every once in a while people get injured or killed as these enormous multi-ton wooden structures barrel out of control through narrow streets clogged with onlookers. They even sell a special kind of home insurance there that covers you in the event that a chunk of your house is gouged out by a danjiri cutting a corner. Not all danjiri matsuri resemble insane chariot races with garbage trucks, however. Most are a bit more relaxed and civilized, like the one in my neighborhood.
I step back inside, wipe the sleep from my eyes, grab my camera, and go back out to try to spot the source of the clattering and shouting. These festivals usually have teams of 40-50 people hauling the danjiri, standing on it, or walking alongside and playing some sort of rhythm instrument, preferably a loud one.
Interestingly, from my 23rd floor vantage point, I can't spot a festival at all.
"DANG di-ga dong DON DON di-ga dong doom DANG di-ga dong DON DON di-ga dong..."
At last, they emerge briefly at a street corner far below.
Can you find them? (Click for larger image)
Haha... kinda like "Where's Waldo" (which, by the way, is called "Where's Wally" in Japanese)
Anyway, the answer is here. You can just barely make out some people dressed completely in white emerging from the street to the left.
The procession moves on slowly, and after they turn the corner by the school, you can get a better view of the arrangement. Two long ropes extend far out in front of the danjiri, and it looks like 20-30 people are pulling it.
They come closer, and as they turn the corner you can get a better view of the danjiri itself, with its rain hood on to protect the fine wood carvings. Remember, it's a portable shrine and a fine piece of artwork.
Here you can see in the side of the danjiri. It looks like there's somebody sitting inside, probably playing taiko drums or something. I've never hauled a danjiri, but I've carried two mikoshi. The first one had little kids inside (actually, not so "little" when their weight is crushing your spine for 4 hours straight) playing taiko, and the second one didn't... I guess it depends on local tradition.
Finally, they arrive at the shrine. These festivals have their roots in Shinto tradition, and thus center around the neighborhood shrines. There is generally an element of testosterone involved as well, and the mikoshi matsuri I've been to have generally involved hoisting the massive mikoshi overhead and spinning it around until you are about to collapse and be crushed to death. This matsuri didn't seem to be quite so extreme, but here you can see them lining up on one side, preparing to pop a danjiri wheelie.
...and it's in the air. Note that the shrine grounds are the only green to be found in the whole neighborhood. To me, that's one of the best things about the preservation of traditional religion here. Everywhere else they seem to have no qualms about not only tearing down forests, but decapitating entire mountains to make space for housing developments, shopping malls, and pachinko parlors. Only on the holy ground is nature really held sacred.
So, it's taken me so long to write this up that the danjiri-pullers have finished their lunch break and are now back out on the streets. I guess it's time to go experience some more of life rather than just blogging about it.
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