20 VIII 07
as the days ticked down, curious signs were made manifest. the hallway of our lab is open to the air through second-story doors at both ends. upon my arrival at work, i saw a bat careening madly about next to the open door as full daylight coursed through the frame. read: disease.
after visiting the coffee machine i returned to my desk and noticed a wild itch on my right wrist. a moment later, a white pinprick appeared amidst a scarlet flush. under my appalled gaze it grew immense and irascible, some hateful black hole drawing raw matter and energy from neighboring tissue. it completed its corpulent run five minutes later - at near dime size! - and i remembered its forebear. its pernicious cousin two months past: the kiss of a particularly damnable strain of mosquito at Heian-jingu's garden. i actually saw that wretched flying crocodile bite me as i felt a one-gauge needle rend my flesh asunder. the resulting carnage was similar.
at the time, Hurricane Dean drew a dead sight on Houston, marvelously timing his arrival to be coincident with my attempted landing from Chicago. that is, i would likely become a new citizen of Illinois.
Saturday afternoon, sitting on the floor in front of the laptop, i finally felt an earthquake. the floor jumped just a bit under my legs, as though someone was noiselessly stomping around downstairs. it persisted, the building gently swaying. i grinned and felt light-headed. nice.
fortunately, everything has - thus far - panned out to naught.
survived Hell Week in the lab and met up with my long-lost Japanese brother Yaguchi and three other vital members of the crew for sushi and one last carousing hurrah on Saturday night. we drank expensive, delicious nihonshu (sake) and killed delectable courses. i ate, for the first time, not one but a brace of my study organisms. first we had "sanma", or saury sashimi. and oh, it was good. Satoh-san insisted that the meat just behind the head was the most savory bit and, being my farewell party of sorts, he passed it over to me. it was not bad, but upon biting down i could identify bones as my teeth crunched through them. i teased apart the rest and laid bare the... prepare yourself... pharyngeal jaw apparatus.
never go to dinner with a zoologist.
followed that up with the pièce de résistance - "ei-hire", ray or skate wing. it arrived sliced and possibly grilled, maybe baked, with a side of mayonnaise sauce. i could still see the radials supporting the fin and examined part of the shoulder girdle before the crew told me to just eat the damned thing. an interesting and delicious fish... a bit musky and sweet.
and then we kept ordering sake and the rest of the evening is not as well resolved in the ol' memory bank. i spent Sunday rehydrating and putting together my final report seminar for today (Monday).
today was indeed my last day at Ocean Research Institute, and as i packed up i made it a Best Hits sort of day with a string of podcasts from series that kept me mentally solvent over the summer. soba set lunch with Yaguchi before heading back for the main event. the seminar went well and Professor Nishida was in a great mood. at one point in the late afternoon he, as the new director of the whole institution, he was called upon to reign over the opening ceremonies for the ORI's softball intramural league. we had a tea party as my formal farewell, with fine green tea and traditional Japanese sweets. yes.
it was a bit wrenching to say goodbye to everyone, at least for now. through the magic of professional conferences i can hope to see some of them again... or maybe i can find more money through JSPS and return to Tokyo. the invitation is there, the network is in place. it was a hell of a ride.
i'll miss my crew, okonomiyaki, not driving, the convenience stores (trust me), yaki-soba, and karaoke.
Japanese beer? not so much. bless the US of A and its German and Belgian immigrants.
welcome home indeed.
8.20.2007
8.15.2007
Tragic Reflection, Carp, and The Nemesis Revealed
15 VIII 07
and in the space of a few hours, i went from "The Happiest Place on Earth (Tokyo Flavor)" to "scene of one of the most horrifying acts in human history." spent a long morning on the speedy shinkansen down to Hiroshima, as cloudless and warm as the day they dropped the bomb 62 years and a few days before.
i sat here at the keyboard for a few minutes, trying to think of something, anything to write. the words won't come. seeing the ruined skeleton of the A-bomb Dome, those iconic ruins that stood, tottering, amidst a veritable moonscape.... that's something you will never forget. the UNESCO Heritage Site and accompanying wonderful, horrible museum is intensely personal, so i'll excise a long political polemic that might have filled this pace.
go there. read the terrible history of the place - i recommend the classic survivor's account of a physician, "Hiroshima Diary" by Michiko Hachiya. question the wisdom of blustering politicians callously and hypocritically waving WMDs at the Middle East. the museum leaves guest registries open at the exit, inviting comment. my one-word submission will close this chapter.
"THINK."
"...nothing will grow for 75 years," it was reported. the tale of Hiroshima is woven, even more than coarse wires of calamity, in brilliant and stubborn fibers of human tenacity and resilience. today, it is a beautiful and bustling town; green and blue and vivacious. and so, my spirits in need of lifting and with means available, i went right across the street from the A-bomb Dome to the Hiroshima Carp baseball stadium.
as before in Tokyo, it was a riotous affair. this ballpark was open-air, the early evening sky washing overhead in the colors of a coral sea and the deep unknown. i loaded up on beer and yaki-soba, a fried buckwheat noodle dish and one of the things i'll miss most about Japan. the Carp played the Swallows, one of Tokyo's teams, and couldn't pull out a victory. i sprang for a great seat again, 1B side perpendicular to the pitcher's mound, lower section. the guy in front of me had a foul ball bounce off his chest in a botched catch attempt.
so!- here's another cultural difference for you. i didn't notice any equivalent to our Seventh Inning Stretch in Tokyo, but i might have been buying soba. here, though... in Hiroshima there is no mistaking it. late into the top of the 7th, nearly everyone in the stadium began noisily inflating immense, oblong balloons. i have no idea whence they came. wheezing susurrations filled the air... whistling stalks akin to mold sporangia creeping out like rapidly growing hair from the stands' pate.
and at the half, they were released in cacophonous, joyous unison, screaming into the air and helicoptering down like a weird frog rain.
awesome.
Sunday was nearly as fine, save some fine cirrus clouds brushed onto the sky. i took a day trip down to Miyajima, island with the famous floating torii (Shinto shrine gate). it is one of Japan's "Three Scenic Views", or some nonsense like that. the gate is a massive, red-orange edifice built on a mud flat and is only submerged at high tide. luckily, that's precisely when i arrived.
stepped off the ferry and breathed deep the marine air. nice. sun on my face, i strolled out into a sun-drenched plaza.
a woman sprinted past me, terror on her face.
oh no. oh god no.
deer. everywhere.
another woman in a purple shirt stood nervously amidst a murder of deer (i don't care, i'm calling them a murder). as she proffered a biscuit, a male hit her in the side with its horns and two females tore at her top. others hemmed her in, watching. waiting.
i befriended an Aussie under assault and we ran for cover. the island was cursed.
but all in all, it was a lovely day. there was a smallish but very cleverly designed aquarium on the island, featuring wily and dangerous beasts you rarely encounter in such a place. also, a couple gregarious porpoises of some stripe came up and looked at us through the glass, peering and jaw-flapping and pirouetting before getting bored and sexually assaulting the floor.
went back in the early afternoon and, of course, hit up another Carp game. right behind home plate, up a few rows. epic.
this is my last week at work (save next Monday), aka Hell Week. i will upload some photos tonight, but may be scarce thereafter.
i will miss this place. but not the deer.
and in the space of a few hours, i went from "The Happiest Place on Earth (Tokyo Flavor)" to "scene of one of the most horrifying acts in human history." spent a long morning on the speedy shinkansen down to Hiroshima, as cloudless and warm as the day they dropped the bomb 62 years and a few days before.
i sat here at the keyboard for a few minutes, trying to think of something, anything to write. the words won't come. seeing the ruined skeleton of the A-bomb Dome, those iconic ruins that stood, tottering, amidst a veritable moonscape.... that's something you will never forget. the UNESCO Heritage Site and accompanying wonderful, horrible museum is intensely personal, so i'll excise a long political polemic that might have filled this pace.
go there. read the terrible history of the place - i recommend the classic survivor's account of a physician, "Hiroshima Diary" by Michiko Hachiya. question the wisdom of blustering politicians callously and hypocritically waving WMDs at the Middle East. the museum leaves guest registries open at the exit, inviting comment. my one-word submission will close this chapter.
"THINK."
"...nothing will grow for 75 years," it was reported. the tale of Hiroshima is woven, even more than coarse wires of calamity, in brilliant and stubborn fibers of human tenacity and resilience. today, it is a beautiful and bustling town; green and blue and vivacious. and so, my spirits in need of lifting and with means available, i went right across the street from the A-bomb Dome to the Hiroshima Carp baseball stadium.
as before in Tokyo, it was a riotous affair. this ballpark was open-air, the early evening sky washing overhead in the colors of a coral sea and the deep unknown. i loaded up on beer and yaki-soba, a fried buckwheat noodle dish and one of the things i'll miss most about Japan. the Carp played the Swallows, one of Tokyo's teams, and couldn't pull out a victory. i sprang for a great seat again, 1B side perpendicular to the pitcher's mound, lower section. the guy in front of me had a foul ball bounce off his chest in a botched catch attempt.
so!- here's another cultural difference for you. i didn't notice any equivalent to our Seventh Inning Stretch in Tokyo, but i might have been buying soba. here, though... in Hiroshima there is no mistaking it. late into the top of the 7th, nearly everyone in the stadium began noisily inflating immense, oblong balloons. i have no idea whence they came. wheezing susurrations filled the air... whistling stalks akin to mold sporangia creeping out like rapidly growing hair from the stands' pate.
and at the half, they were released in cacophonous, joyous unison, screaming into the air and helicoptering down like a weird frog rain.
awesome.
Sunday was nearly as fine, save some fine cirrus clouds brushed onto the sky. i took a day trip down to Miyajima, island with the famous floating torii (Shinto shrine gate). it is one of Japan's "Three Scenic Views", or some nonsense like that. the gate is a massive, red-orange edifice built on a mud flat and is only submerged at high tide. luckily, that's precisely when i arrived.
stepped off the ferry and breathed deep the marine air. nice. sun on my face, i strolled out into a sun-drenched plaza.
a woman sprinted past me, terror on her face.
oh no. oh god no.
deer. everywhere.
another woman in a purple shirt stood nervously amidst a murder of deer (i don't care, i'm calling them a murder). as she proffered a biscuit, a male hit her in the side with its horns and two females tore at her top. others hemmed her in, watching. waiting.
i befriended an Aussie under assault and we ran for cover. the island was cursed.
but all in all, it was a lovely day. there was a smallish but very cleverly designed aquarium on the island, featuring wily and dangerous beasts you rarely encounter in such a place. also, a couple gregarious porpoises of some stripe came up and looked at us through the glass, peering and jaw-flapping and pirouetting before getting bored and sexually assaulting the floor.
went back in the early afternoon and, of course, hit up another Carp game. right behind home plate, up a few rows. epic.
this is my last week at work (save next Monday), aka Hell Week. i will upload some photos tonight, but may be scarce thereafter.
i will miss this place. but not the deer.
8.10.2007
Cornucopia
10 VIII 07
a medley of occurrences... happenings to sate your palate. photos to follow.
Tokyo Sea Life Park last Sunday, a bayside, subterranean marine utopia under a faceted bubble of glass. strong, fresh winds blew in across the bay. i stood outside the sphere by a rather clever pool-field stretching toward the bay with no clear margin. to accentuate the scene, white sails from moored ships hung and shimmered in that nebulous sliver of reality between sky, bay and pool. the currents grew aggressive and pleasantly assailed me across the water, bringing both the smell of salt and chlorine. it reminded me of old vacations to beach hotels, and i was happy.
the aquarium was great - at one point, i nearly fell asleep in a large, rather warm amphitheater staring into a vast donut tank with dolphin-sized tuna racing about. another held scalloped hammerhead sharks shepherding a roiling, mercury river of shiny fish. toward the end, a catwalk ran over and just to the side of many of the smaller salt-water exhibits... such a thing would never fly in the States. hmm.
spent all last week in an academic Operation Overlord, waiting for a boatload of very graciously provided chemicals to arrive (after several delays). the object? biting off way more than i can chew before leaving. each day passed with no word on the anticipated parcel... i organized convoys, orchestrated troop movements and artillery trajectories in anticipation of The Big Day. i fell victim to total resignation on Friday afternoon, just before my big monthly meeting with the Masterminds and at just about the last possible moment at which the work could still be completed.
ten minutes after my total despair they showed up on a golden cloud, drawn by Apollo's very own steeds. and oh, i slaved. now you begin to understand the lack of updates.
Tuesday through Thursday, our French postdoc / my friend Sebastien and i went to visit Dr Miya's summer house near Nagano. it's up in the mountains, a stunning 15 degrees Celsius or so lower than Tokyo's daily-compounding inferno (rainy season is over) with none of the humidity. what it does have is bugs, and dear Sebastien loved leaving the door thrown wide to the elements and insect hordes.
poor Dr Miya. the man is, to mosquitoes, filet mignon and a fine wine in one savory package. he was so unbelievably riddled with bites that he was textured, like a good-natured giant octopus. it was a great couple of days - we barbecued nightly with his friend's family, eating like heathen kings. Dr Miya's wife is really, really cool - she and i had read some of the same books by Japanese authors, most notably a seedy offering recommended by Clay that is among her favorites! haha. the friend-family had three boys, aged ~10, ~8 and 4. the two eldest were quite evidently sharp kids with a keen interest in bugs and fish, as is true with most young Japanese boys. the 4-yr old was one of the cutest kids i've ever seen, and his cute and gentle way reminded me of Clay at that age. hahaha.
Sebastien, one of Dr Miya's students (Sadoh-san) and i stayed at a very nice cabin down the street. my bed lay about two feet under the sloping cedar roof, a stately coffin-alcove that i put to appropriate use. i slept a lot. the trip wasn't regimented, so i read and slept when not engaged with formal activity. on Wednesday morning, we hiked up a mountain and perched atop granite boulders at the peak, buffeted by cool breezes after the stress of the climb. small tarns broke the lines of perfect triangle-trees swathing the mountainsides, and we sat there for a long time.
that night, after dinner, the youngsters produced a fearsome cache of fireworks. Wednesday was some manner of festival, and we celebrated in fine form. most of the early explosives went off without great incident... just occasional smoky repetitions of "Car! / Game On!" in the night. we burned through the innocuous sticks and moved on to heavy ordnance, ground hugging tubes containing god-knew-what. six of seven erupted into wild-hued fusillades in the street. no big deal. i crouched down to watch the seventh. it was lit.
BANG.
no light. and in the next fraction of a second, i realized that the tube ejected a ballistic parcel of fire thirty feet straight up... nestling gently into the crook of a tree branch before exploding in a riot-kaleidoscope. we held our breath. no fire. it was not a good idea, but was repeated several times yet that evening.
moving on.
to spare you a long and ultimately fruitless story, i ended up at Tokyo Disneyland this morning! at this point, i could expound at tremendous, thesis-worthy length on the considerable impact that my first visit to Disneyland (Anaheim) at age 9 had on my life - but i shall not. i will, however, give significant propers to my dear father for taking us back to the park at weird hours of night and putting up with our wild affinity for the Haunted Mansion. indeed, when Clay and i were very small and could first toddle over to the local library, we cleaned the damned thing out of anything concerning the weird or macabre. it is reported that my grandmother was intensely concerned that we would "grow up perverted." i mean, come on. i ended up a liberal, skirt-chasing (j/k, you) evolutionary biologist in strange countries with a perpetual obsession for Halloween. Clay is an incipient lawyer in a ghoulish rock band.
hmm. i guess she was right.
anyway, i really wanted to see what the Haunted Mansion would be like in Japanese. Tokyo Disneyland was a crap-shoot i'd decided against a time or two... it is the most visited Terran theme park, and today was supposed to be both appallingly hot and plagued by storms. the storms never materialized - in fact, it was a flawlessly blue day. the heat was manifest by 9am.
seas of Japanese. a sweltering clime. i'm reading Dune at present and there were some uncomfortable parallels made quickly apparent. this was a job for a born-and-raised Texan. i cannot recall the number of times that poor Erin recoiled in total revulsion at the 85+ degree jungle that is my apartment. i do not readily bend my will to the inferno.
dashed through the park, beeline to the sickly manse. what is this...? oh no. something is amiss. i ask one of the pseudo-goth female attendants what time the inappropriately closed ride would open. i hear lots of words ending in -nai, the verb form for "don't/isn't." this is not good. she sees my face and, struggling, manages, "...break down!" my spirit spirals into the earth.
i go off and do my thing, struggling to remain hopeful. the damned thing breaks down all the time. surely it was temporary. and yet, i returned time and again to no progress. the day was going promptly to pot, temperatures soaring, people packing on thick like blankets. i saw one family at the Jungle Cruise wearing traditional garb, women in kimonos. please understand the absurdity of this... it is akin to wearing a three-piece suit to Disneyland on one of the hottest days of the year.
maybe it's time to go back to the States. i can't fathom this place anymore.
got off Space Mountain at noon and traipsed back to the black scene......... a line. parasols springing up as summer toadstools. yes. my heart skipped, stumbled, and i grinned allll the way through the queue. and let me assure you that your narrator, your humble Ghost Host, the original Badass MF of Time Management, managed to pull off a ride on every worthy attraction at the park and the Manse five times over by 630. there are tricks. i survived, and with minimal sunburn.
don't get me started on the Mansion. the new movie tie-in Pirates of the Caribbean stuff is really well done; the Jack Sparrow animatronics are superb. i picked up a manga novelization (haha) of Dead Man's Chest at the gift shop. anyway, much of the park is modeled after its Orlando sibling, with some obvious cultural differences. i was amused to see that, as reported, the Disney royalty cast were indeed imported Caucasians and not local interpretations of Snow White et al. i would have much preferred to see the latter.
ducked out at sunset around 630, as a new influx of patrons with after-6 passes clogged the park and, with the Fast Pass booths shut down, i'd already survived a full day of waiting in long lines. it was a good one.
Hiroshima tomorrow til Monday. i've long had an academic and personal interest in The Bomb and its inaugural use... ghoulish postapocalyptic sensibilities coming through again, i suppose.
it will be a journey.
a medley of occurrences... happenings to sate your palate. photos to follow.
Tokyo Sea Life Park last Sunday, a bayside, subterranean marine utopia under a faceted bubble of glass. strong, fresh winds blew in across the bay. i stood outside the sphere by a rather clever pool-field stretching toward the bay with no clear margin. to accentuate the scene, white sails from moored ships hung and shimmered in that nebulous sliver of reality between sky, bay and pool. the currents grew aggressive and pleasantly assailed me across the water, bringing both the smell of salt and chlorine. it reminded me of old vacations to beach hotels, and i was happy.
the aquarium was great - at one point, i nearly fell asleep in a large, rather warm amphitheater staring into a vast donut tank with dolphin-sized tuna racing about. another held scalloped hammerhead sharks shepherding a roiling, mercury river of shiny fish. toward the end, a catwalk ran over and just to the side of many of the smaller salt-water exhibits... such a thing would never fly in the States. hmm.
spent all last week in an academic Operation Overlord, waiting for a boatload of very graciously provided chemicals to arrive (after several delays). the object? biting off way more than i can chew before leaving. each day passed with no word on the anticipated parcel... i organized convoys, orchestrated troop movements and artillery trajectories in anticipation of The Big Day. i fell victim to total resignation on Friday afternoon, just before my big monthly meeting with the Masterminds and at just about the last possible moment at which the work could still be completed.
ten minutes after my total despair they showed up on a golden cloud, drawn by Apollo's very own steeds. and oh, i slaved. now you begin to understand the lack of updates.
Tuesday through Thursday, our French postdoc / my friend Sebastien and i went to visit Dr Miya's summer house near Nagano. it's up in the mountains, a stunning 15 degrees Celsius or so lower than Tokyo's daily-compounding inferno (rainy season is over) with none of the humidity. what it does have is bugs, and dear Sebastien loved leaving the door thrown wide to the elements and insect hordes.
poor Dr Miya. the man is, to mosquitoes, filet mignon and a fine wine in one savory package. he was so unbelievably riddled with bites that he was textured, like a good-natured giant octopus. it was a great couple of days - we barbecued nightly with his friend's family, eating like heathen kings. Dr Miya's wife is really, really cool - she and i had read some of the same books by Japanese authors, most notably a seedy offering recommended by Clay that is among her favorites! haha. the friend-family had three boys, aged ~10, ~8 and 4. the two eldest were quite evidently sharp kids with a keen interest in bugs and fish, as is true with most young Japanese boys. the 4-yr old was one of the cutest kids i've ever seen, and his cute and gentle way reminded me of Clay at that age. hahaha.
Sebastien, one of Dr Miya's students (Sadoh-san) and i stayed at a very nice cabin down the street. my bed lay about two feet under the sloping cedar roof, a stately coffin-alcove that i put to appropriate use. i slept a lot. the trip wasn't regimented, so i read and slept when not engaged with formal activity. on Wednesday morning, we hiked up a mountain and perched atop granite boulders at the peak, buffeted by cool breezes after the stress of the climb. small tarns broke the lines of perfect triangle-trees swathing the mountainsides, and we sat there for a long time.
that night, after dinner, the youngsters produced a fearsome cache of fireworks. Wednesday was some manner of festival, and we celebrated in fine form. most of the early explosives went off without great incident... just occasional smoky repetitions of "Car! / Game On!" in the night. we burned through the innocuous sticks and moved on to heavy ordnance, ground hugging tubes containing god-knew-what. six of seven erupted into wild-hued fusillades in the street. no big deal. i crouched down to watch the seventh. it was lit.
BANG.
no light. and in the next fraction of a second, i realized that the tube ejected a ballistic parcel of fire thirty feet straight up... nestling gently into the crook of a tree branch before exploding in a riot-kaleidoscope. we held our breath. no fire. it was not a good idea, but was repeated several times yet that evening.
moving on.
to spare you a long and ultimately fruitless story, i ended up at Tokyo Disneyland this morning! at this point, i could expound at tremendous, thesis-worthy length on the considerable impact that my first visit to Disneyland (Anaheim) at age 9 had on my life - but i shall not. i will, however, give significant propers to my dear father for taking us back to the park at weird hours of night and putting up with our wild affinity for the Haunted Mansion. indeed, when Clay and i were very small and could first toddle over to the local library, we cleaned the damned thing out of anything concerning the weird or macabre. it is reported that my grandmother was intensely concerned that we would "grow up perverted." i mean, come on. i ended up a liberal, skirt-chasing (j/k, you) evolutionary biologist in strange countries with a perpetual obsession for Halloween. Clay is an incipient lawyer in a ghoulish rock band.
hmm. i guess she was right.
anyway, i really wanted to see what the Haunted Mansion would be like in Japanese. Tokyo Disneyland was a crap-shoot i'd decided against a time or two... it is the most visited Terran theme park, and today was supposed to be both appallingly hot and plagued by storms. the storms never materialized - in fact, it was a flawlessly blue day. the heat was manifest by 9am.
seas of Japanese. a sweltering clime. i'm reading Dune at present and there were some uncomfortable parallels made quickly apparent. this was a job for a born-and-raised Texan. i cannot recall the number of times that poor Erin recoiled in total revulsion at the 85+ degree jungle that is my apartment. i do not readily bend my will to the inferno.
dashed through the park, beeline to the sickly manse. what is this...? oh no. something is amiss. i ask one of the pseudo-goth female attendants what time the inappropriately closed ride would open. i hear lots of words ending in -nai, the verb form for "don't/isn't." this is not good. she sees my face and, struggling, manages, "...break down!" my spirit spirals into the earth.
i go off and do my thing, struggling to remain hopeful. the damned thing breaks down all the time. surely it was temporary. and yet, i returned time and again to no progress. the day was going promptly to pot, temperatures soaring, people packing on thick like blankets. i saw one family at the Jungle Cruise wearing traditional garb, women in kimonos. please understand the absurdity of this... it is akin to wearing a three-piece suit to Disneyland on one of the hottest days of the year.
maybe it's time to go back to the States. i can't fathom this place anymore.
got off Space Mountain at noon and traipsed back to the black scene......... a line. parasols springing up as summer toadstools. yes. my heart skipped, stumbled, and i grinned allll the way through the queue. and let me assure you that your narrator, your humble Ghost Host, the original Badass MF of Time Management, managed to pull off a ride on every worthy attraction at the park and the Manse five times over by 630. there are tricks. i survived, and with minimal sunburn.
don't get me started on the Mansion. the new movie tie-in Pirates of the Caribbean stuff is really well done; the Jack Sparrow animatronics are superb. i picked up a manga novelization (haha) of Dead Man's Chest at the gift shop. anyway, much of the park is modeled after its Orlando sibling, with some obvious cultural differences. i was amused to see that, as reported, the Disney royalty cast were indeed imported Caucasians and not local interpretations of Snow White et al. i would have much preferred to see the latter.
ducked out at sunset around 630, as a new influx of patrons with after-6 passes clogged the park and, with the Fast Pass booths shut down, i'd already survived a full day of waiting in long lines. it was a good one.
Hiroshima tomorrow til Monday. i've long had an academic and personal interest in The Bomb and its inaugural use... ghoulish postapocalyptic sensibilities coming through again, i suppose.
it will be a journey.
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