วันพฤหัสบดีที่ 29 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

How to Pick Up Japanese Girls

I think Japanese girls are among the most exotic and beautiful of Asian women. But if you want to learn how to pick up Japanese girls, you've first got to understand some of the leading differences between their culture, and yours. Here are three quick tips to keep in mind as you learn how to pick up Japanese girls...

1. I've figured out many distinct ways to approach Japanese girls and start conversations, but one of my favorites is the "cell phone" tactic. Japanese population have a passion for high-tech gadgets, and the girls are usually packing a new, popular model of cell phone.

Japanese School Girls

When I see a beautiful Japanese girl that I want to meet, I usually only need to wait a short while before she pulls out her phone to check her text messages, or make a call.

When she finishes, I'll approach her in a friendly manner and say, "Excuse me, could you tell me what kind of phone you have? I need to buy a birthday gift for a friend of mine, and I know she'd love a new cell phone. Yours looks of course cool.."

She will usually be happy to tell you about her cool phone, and its features. Ask her if you can try out the built-in camera, and take a picture of her. (Japanese girls Love posing for pictures.) She will then huddle in close with you to see how her picture turned out. Now you've fulfilled, the "physical gap," and you're laughing and chatting with her.

2. Make a exact plan to see her again. Don't offer a weak suggestion like, "Maybe if you're free sometime, we could hang out and do something." Japanese girls respect a man with a Plan. A man who is not afraid to lead. When you make a vague suggestion about finding her again, you're only going to confuse her and cause her to tune out.

Instead, lay out a plan that she can of course agree to. Tell her there's a great new cafeteria you heard about, that you're planning to try out next weekend, and propose that she come along with you. Japanese girls love to dine out and enjoy a collection of distinct cuisines. A cool coffee stop is other good date location.

3. When it's time to meet her, all the time be punctual. Japanese culture runs on very tight schedules. In Japan, there is no such thing as being "fashionably late," the way American women will typically show up 15 or 20 minutes late to their dates.

Be right on time, because you can expect her to do the same. If you arrive late, she will take it as a sign of disrespect -- that you don't feel she is important.

These are just a few quick pointers. Studying how to pick up Japanese girls involves knowing a lot of other things about their culture, and how to make them feel comfortable, tantalizing and Attracted.

How to Pick Up Japanese Girls

วันพุธที่ 28 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Harry Thaw - The Man Who Murdered Sanford White

This story would be a tragic one if it didn't involve two men who were precisely creeps. Noted creeps, but creeps nevertheless. One was a world-famous architect, and the other a rich scion, from an even richer family. There are no nice guys here, and the girl in the middle, although thought about the most gorgeous woman of her time, and one of artist Charles Dana Gibson's Noted "Gibson Girls," was no lily-white lassie herself.

So why do we care? naturally because it was the most deliciously decadent murder story of the early 20th Century.

Japanese School Girls

On June 25, 1906, it was high society's night out. It was the occasion of the new musical Mamzelle Champagne, on the outdoor roof garden of Madison square Garden, which at the time was bounded by Fifth and Madison Avenues, and 26th and 27th Streets. The structure, which included an amphitheater on the ground floor, was designed by world-famed architect Stanford White. In fact, White had a front row table, in which he sat by himself, to enjoy the show, which was not going over too well with the crowd, since citizen were grinding about from table to table, kibitzing, instead of paying attention to the show.

Suddenly, the audience heard three loud shots. At first, they belief it was a part of the show. But when they saw White topple to the floor, his head encased in a pool of blood, they knew the theatrical scene was for real.

Harry Kendall Thaw, a spoiled, rich punk, had casually walked over to White, pulled out a pistol from beneath his long black coat, and plugged White three times: twice in the shoulder and once through his brain. After he fired his final shot, Thaw screamed at White, "You deserved this! You ruined my wife!"

Seeming to be not in any singular hurry, Thaw casually pointed the gun up over his head and strode to the elevator. Thaw took the elevator down and met his wife, the gorgeous actress Evelyn Nesbit, in the lobby by the elevator. Mamzelle Champagne being the awful spectacle that it was, Thaw and Nesbit had left with an additional one incorporate moments before the shooting. Nesbit did not perceive her husband did not ride down the elevator with her. Nesbit heard the shots, and a few seconds later, when her husband strode out of the elevator retention a smoking gun, she screamed at him, "Good God Harry, what have you done?"

Back on the rooftop garden, the stage manager was trying to sort out exactly what had transpired. He jumped on a table and shouted to the orchestra, "Keep on playing! And bring out the chorus!"

The musicians, actors and actresses, dumbfounded over a real live murder being perpetrated right in front of their eyes, sat, or stood dumbfounded. A doctor, who was in attendance, rushed to White's body. White's face was disfigured from the powder burns. Still, the doctor announced with certainty that White was precisely dead.

Down in the lobby, a firemen in attendance wrestled the gun away from Thaw, who did not offer any resistance. Moments later, a policeman arrived and immediately arrested Thaw. The policeman brought Thaw to the nearest police station, which was located in the Tenderloin District, an area known for its gambling, prostitution, and discrete other crimes, both violent and nonviolent. When Thaw arrived at the police station, he identified himself as John Smith, a pupil at 18 Lafayette square in Philadelphia.

The desk sergeant asked Thaw, "Why did you do this?"

Thaw seemed disinterested. "I can't say why," he said.

By this time, several news reporters, who were familiar with Thaw, had followed him to the police station, and identified him to the police by his real name. Thaw immediately clammed up and refused to say an additional one word, unless he was represented by an attorney.

The following day, the killing of Sanford White was on the front page of every newspaper in New York City. The New York Times, usually staid and proper, ran this blaring headline.

Thaw Murders Sanford White!
Shoots him on the Madison square garden rooftop
About Evelyn Nesbit
"You ruined my wife," he cries and fires.
Audience In Panic
Chairs and tables overturned in a wild scramble For the Exits

Stanford White, who was born in 1853, was the most Noted architect of this time. White was a partner in the architectural firm of McKim, Mead, and White, for which he designed houses and mansions for the rich and famous. White also designed the upscale gated society Seagate in Brooklyn. Also designing Madison square Garden, White designed the Madison square Presbyterian Church, the New York Herald Building, the First Bowery Savings Bank (at the Bowery and Grand Street), and the Washington square Arch. The final two White achievements are still standing to this day.

However, White, despite his exalted status, was a quirky man, who had several fetishes, some bordering on illegality. Even though he was married, White was a man-about-town, who courted several young ladies, some of them young adequate to be his daughter. It was his encounter with a 16-year-old Evelyn Nesbit that was the cause of his demise.

Evelyn Nesbit was born Florence Evelyn Nesbit on Christmas Day 1884, in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. Her father was a struggling lawyer, who died in 1893, leaving his wife and daughter in essential debt. Even at a young age, Nesbit was a remarkable beauty. She began modeling in Pittsburgh, but she and her mom decided it was best she moved to New York City, to enhance her career. Almost immediately Nesbit was a hot New York City model. She modeled for such Noted photographers as Frederick S. Church, Herbert Morgan, Gertrude Kasebier, Carl Blenner, and Rudolf Eickemeyer.

Nesbit's beauty was such, newspaperman Irvin S. Cobb reveal Nesbit as having, "The slim, quick grace of a fawn, a head that sat on her flawless throat like a lily on its stem, eyes that were the color of blue-brown pansies and the size of half dollars, a mouth made of rumbled rose petals."

In 1901, Nesbit met White for the first time. Nesbit and a girlfriend, who was accompanied by an additional one man, were invited to have lunch at White's apartment on W. 24th Street. Shortly after they done their meal, her girlfriend's male companion left. White then invited the two girls to an upstairs room, where he kept a red velvet swing. Like a father doting on his two young children, White gave both the girls a turn on his swing, gleefully pushing them back and forth, until their legs Almost touched the ceiling.

"He had a big Japanese umbrella on the ceiling," Nesbit said. "So when he swung us very high up in the air, our feet past through the umbrella."

White became very smitten with Nesbit. Using her mom as a chaperon, White dated Nesbit quite often. At the time, White was the perfect gentleman, and he tried to make sure Nesbit had every advantage, as she pursued her career in modeling, and in acting.

However, all things changed when Nesbit's mom decided to visit friends in Pittsburgh. White was so magnanimous, he even paid for Nesbit's mother's trip. By this time, Nesbit had gotten a bit part in a play called Floridora. On the second night that her mom was gone, White sent Nesbit a note at the theater, arresting her to a party at his apartment on 24th Street. When Nesbit arrived at White's apartment, she was surprised no one else was there.

"The others have turned us down," White told Nesbit.

"Then he poured me a glass of champagne," Nesbit said at Thaw's trial. "I don't know whether it was a diminutive after, or two minutes after, but a pounding began in my ears. Then the whole room seemed to go around."

Nesbit lost consciousness, and when she awoke, she was lying in bed, naked. The room, in which the bed was located, was fully mirrored, even on the ceilings.

"I started to scream," Nesbit said. "Mr. White tried to quiet me. I don't remember how I got my clothes on, or how I went home, but he took me home. Then he went away and left me. I sat up all night."

The following day, White visited Nesbit at her apartment. He found her there in an Almost hypnotic state, just staring out the window.

"Why don't you look at me, child," White said.

"Because I can't," she said.

White told Nesbit not to worry. "Everyone does those things," he told her. White also told Nesbit her fellow starlets in Floradoa all were complex in sexual escapades with discrete men. White told Nesbit the most important thing was not to be found out. He made Nesbit promise not to say anything to her mom about what had transpired in his apartment the night before.

Harry Thaw was born in Pittsburgh, in February of 1871, the son of coal and railroad baron William Thaw. As a child, Thaw shuttled in and out of several schools. He was an insolent child, thought about by this teaches not to be very bright, and a troublemaker. Yet, because he was the son of William Thaw, Harry Thaw was admitted into the University of Pittsburgh, supposedly to study law. However, Thaw was not much of a college student, so his father used his work on to get him transferred to Harvard University. At Harvard, Thaw did diminutive more than drink, carouse with the ladies, and play night-long poker games.

Thaw left Harvard without a degree, and he became an master in getting into trouble. It was about this time that Thaw began his systematic drug use. Thaw consumed large amounts of cocaine and heroin, and it was rumored that Thaw was heavy into "speedballing," which was the process of injecting a blend of cocaine and heroin into a vein. High as a kite, Thaw once rode a horse into a New York City nightclub, from which he had been banned. Adding to his prestige of being an out-of-control lunatic, Thaw also drove a car through a display window of a department store, lost ,000 in a singular poker game, drank a full bottle of the narcotic laudanum, and hosted a decadent party in Paris, where the majority of his guests were the top whores in town. The tab for this party was said to be over ,000.

When Thaw's father passed away, Thaw was dismayed to discover, that even though he was left million of his father's million estate, it was stipulated in the senior Thaw's will that his son would only get an reduction of two hundred dollars a month. This small reduction would continue until Thaw showed he was responsible adequate to deal with such a large sum of heritage money.

In 1905, Thaw became smitten with Nesbit. Thaw courted Nesbit with much enthusiasm, and when White found out about Thaw and Nesbit, he warned Nesbit to stay away from Thaw; telling her that Thaw was an erratic and hazardous man. White knew that Thaw maintained a New York City apartment in a brothel. White also knew that Thaw would entice young girls into his apartment, then he would whip them in a bizarre sex routine, that left the girls in conditions that would sometimes wish hospitalization.

However, Thaw could not be discouraged from pursuing Nesbit. He repeatedly begged Nesbit to marry him, and she consistently refused. While they were on a cruise together, Thaw became outraged when Nesbit again refused to marry him. In an act of a madman, Thaw whipped Nesbit like he did the other young girls in his New York City apartment. During this whipping, Nesbit confessed to Thaw about the manner in which he had lost her virginity to White. Thaw said he still loved her and wanted to marry her anyway. Despite the fact that Thaw had whipped her, and was precisely not of sound mind, Nesbit married Thaw on April 4, 1905.

After they were married, Thaw maintained an ultimate hatred for Sanford White. So contemptuous of White because of what White had done to Nesbit, Thaw forbade his wife to even mention the name "Sanford White." Thaw insisted that Nesbit refer to White as, "The Bastard" or "The Beast." Yet, Nesbit, more often than not, naturally referred to White as "B."

While Thaw was in prison awaiting trial for the murder of White, Thaw's mother, known in the newspapers as "Mother Thaw," was in England visiting her daughter, the Countess of Yarmouth. Upon hearing of her son's predicament, mom Thaw announced that she was going back to the United States to help her son. "I am prepared to pay one million dollars to save my son's life," mom Thaw told the press.

Part of mom Thaw's strategy was to use her essential wealth to orchestrate a campaign in the press to discredit Sanford White. Suddenly, several newspapers began writing exposés on White, portraying him as a tyrannical abuser of young girls. mom Thaw went so far as to hire a press agent to originate newspaper publicity detrimental to White, and favorable to her son.

One singular story, mom Thaw paid the press to print, was highly damaging to White's credibility, decency, and honor (if he had any to start with). It seemed White had come to be infatuated with a 15-year-old girl named Susie Johnson. White had met Johnson at a wild party, at which Johnson had sprung from a large cake, Almost totally naked. That night, White fed Johnson adequate champagne to render her quite drunk. When Johnson became so inebriated she was barely conscious, White took Johnson back to his apartment, and he did to her, what he had done to Evelyn Nesbit. Soon after, White banished Johnson from his apartment, and threw her out into the street, totally broke. As White pushed Johnson out his front door, he told Johnson, "Girls, if you are poor, stay in the safe factory, or in the kitchen."

Johnson lasted eight years hustling on the streets, before she died at the age of 23, and was buried in a pauper's grave.

In order to work on the New York City inherent jury pool, mom Thaw hired a playwright to write a play Almost identical to the circumstances surrounding Harry Thaw, Sanford White, and Evelyn Nesbit. The play featured three characters named Harold Daw, Emeline Daw, and Stanford Black. In the final scene of the play, Harold Daw proclaimed from his cell in the Tombs Prison, "No jury on earth will send me to the chair, no matter what I have done, or what I have been, for killing the man who defamed my wife. That is the unwritten law made by men themselves, and upon its virtue I will stake my life."

Mother Thaw's money even made it into the hands of Rev. Charles A. Eaton, who had John D Rockefeller as one of his parishioners. Rev. Eaton made an impassioned speech to his congregation defending Thaw's actions. Rev. Eaton said, "It would be a good thing if there was a diminutive more shooting in cases like this."

While Thaw was in prison, his mom spread adequate money nearby so that Thaw could enjoy extravagances no other prisoners in the Tombs were allowed. Instead of eating the thorough prison grub, Thaw had all his meals delivered from Delmonico's, a uptown restaurant, which was thought about the finest eatery of its time. While other prisoners dressed in thorough prison garb, Thaw was allowed to wear the finest clothes, including silk shirts and silk ties.

Thaw's first trial for the murder of Sanford White commenced on January 21, 1907. mom Thaw hired the Noted California trial lawyer Delpin Delmas to relate her son. District Attorney William Travers Jerome, the uncle of Winston Churchill, prosecuted the case for the state.

Jerome told the jury in his occasion statement, "With all his millions, Thaw is a fiend. In the show the way of this trial, I shall prove that no matter how rich a man is, he can't get away with murder in New York County!"

The sensationalism of the trial was so extreme, tickets to the trial were scalped at 0. More than 80 world-famous artists and writers flocked to the courtroom to see if maybe they could benefit by whether writing a book, or production a movie about the sordid affair.

The defense's shining hour was when Evelyn Nesbit took the stand in defense of her husband. Rumors had it that mom Thaw enticed Nesbit to testify by promising Nesbit that her son would agree to a divorce. mom Thaw also promised Nesbit one million dollar after the trial, but Nesbit never received one penny of that money.

On the stand, Nesbit told of the bizarre sexual behavior of Sanford White. Nesbit said that White made her wear diminutive girl's dresses when she came to his apartment. Nesbit also told the jury the manner in which she lost her virginity to White, and that White had plied her with champagne, in order to render her unconscious, so that he could have his way with her.

The prosecution countered Nesbit's words by eliciting testimony from a important toxicologist, Dr. Rudolph Witthaus. Dr. Witthaus said that Nesbit's story about how White had gotten her drunk in order to take benefit of her, did not hold water, because no drug known to science would have worked as rapidly as Nesbitt said that champagne did to render her unconscious.

Although a group of psychiatrists declared Thaw to be totally sane, During the trial Thaw acted erratically, by constantly crying like a baby, and flying into rages, in which his eyes bugged out, and his face turned nearly purple.

In his final summation, Delmas told the jury that his client, when he shot Sanford White, had been consumed by "Dementia Americana, a form of insanity which makes every home sacred, makes a man believed that his wife is sacred. Whoever strains the virtual life has forfeited the security of human laws, and must look to the internal justice and mercy of God."

Attorney Delmas had done such a powerful job, the jury was not able to come to a unanimous verdict. It was revealed later that seven jurors had wanted to convict Thaw on a first-degree murder charge, while five jurors decided on a verdict of not guilty by conjecture of insanity. However, at Thaw's second trial, in January of 1908, the jury unanimously voted Thaw not guilty by conjecture of insanity.

Still, the verdict of not guilty did not set Thaw free from prison. Thaw was declared criminally insane and imprisoned for life at Matteawan, New York. In August 17, 1913, Thaw escaped, and with a limousine waiting for him exterior the asylum, Thaw fled to Canada, where he took refuge.

While Thaw was on the run, Nesbit, obviously angry at the fact she had been not paid the one million dollars she was promised by mom Thaw, made an declaration to the press.

She said, "Harry Thaw has turned out to be a degenerate scoundrel. He hid behind my skirts through two trials and I won't stand for it again. I won't let lawyers throw any more mud at me."

Soon afterwards, Nesbit signed a covenant to appear in a vaudeville show, at a wages of 00 a week.

In September, 1913, the United States government forced the Canadian clergyman of Justice to return Thaw to the United States. Thaw faced a third trial in 1915. Bolstered by a cadre of the best lawyers money could buy, Thaw was found to be sane, and the jury found him not guilty of all charges.

Back on the streets, Thaw went back to his old evil ways. Eighteen months after he was released from prison, Thaw was arrested for kidnapping and whipping Frederick Gump. At his trial, Thaw was again declared insane. Yet, before Thaw went back into the asylum, he gave Nesbit her promised divorce. Nesbit spent the next decade appearing in vaudeville, occasional movies, and as a dancer in nightclubs throughout New York City.

In 1924, after seven years in the asylum, Thaw was finally declared sane, and was released from prison. Thaw spent the rest of his life in and out of lucidity. Thaw died on February 22, 1947, at the age of 76, of a heart attack in Miami, Florida. Thaw left a mere ,000 of his vast fortune to Evelyn Nesbit.

Nesbitt, beset by alcohol addiction, morphine addiction, and several suicide attempts, somehow lasted until January 17, 1967, when she died at the age of 82. Nesbit served as a technical consultant on the 1955 movie "The Girl In the Red Velvet Swing," which was loosely based on her life story.

Marilyn Monroe was originally scheduled to play Evelyn Nesbit, but ultimately, she refused to play the part, which then went to Joan Collins. Ray Milland played Sanford White, and Farley Granger played Henry Thaw.

Harry Thaw - The Man Who Murdered Sanford White

วันอังคารที่ 27 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 23.82 Mins.



Tags: funimation, anime, animation, school, rumble, japanese, first, harima, tenma, high, comedy

วันจันทร์ที่ 26 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

The Phenomenon of K-On!

With each spring season comes new anime series in Japan and the rest of the world. The most recent sensation that has debuted is a story of the trials and tribulations of four high school girls as they seek to establish their own after school activities club. The club revolves nearby light music which in Japan literally stands for pop music and the playing of musical instruments in a band for that purpose.

The club is known as Keion, which sounds like K-On!, the name that the anime series is called. Based on a serialized manga that did not reach the heady heights of popularity that the anime has currently achieved, the protagonist of the series is Yui Hirasawa. An easy going girl who excels in day dreaming, Yui stumbles along the club and three other members. Faced with the anticipation of not belonging in any club, Yui decides to join the three other girls despite initial reservations.

Japanese School Girls

Based on a very simple premise, the rise in popularity of K-On! has surprised media onlookers and critics. There is nothing incredibly special about the series' plot or characters. In fact, they report very ordinary citizen like you and I, with the same aspirations and dreams in life. Maybe it is due to this fact that the characters are so similar to us, that fans have taken to them with great passion. The amelioration of the four girls' friendship from lesson to lesson has also struck a chord with most viewers, reminding them of their current or past relationships with both friends and family.

It would be too simple to attribute all the success of the anime series to the sentimental value in case,granted by both the characters and storyline. There is much to praise about the high quality establish and animation sequences it has. Its arrival also coincides with a global inquire for cute characters that is often the feature of Japanese pop culture. The voice actresses, or seiyuu as it is more commonly known within the industry, have also done very well in projecting believable characters, while expressing their talent and creativity in other areas that are required due to the nature of the anime. This includes having to sing, since Yui and her friends play in a band.

The success of K-On! continues unabated with the release of more manga comics and even music Cd singles. A sequel is also in the works if the first series manages to sustain fans' interest after the last episode. Maybe the biggest litmus test to its phenomenon and longevity will be the public's response to upcoming form releases, which is often used to gauge a franchise's long term marketability. Anyone the supervene of that, the likable and simple story of the group of high school friends has certainly made their mark in the anime world.

The Phenomenon of K-On!

วันอาทิตย์ที่ 25 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Video Clips. Duration : 24.12 Mins.



Keywords: anime, animation, sexy, manga, vixens, China, video game, destiny, hero, fate, female warriors, bishoujo, ecchi, fanservice, martial arts, school, female students, war, battles, comedy, Japan, Japanese

วันเสาร์ที่ 24 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Video Clips. Duration : 23.70 Mins.



Tags: funimation, anime, japanese, negima, magister, negi, magi, springfield, wizard, harem

วันศุกร์ที่ 23 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

I'm Not a Skinny Asian Girl

I was born in Sydney, Australia and remained there till the age of nine. After that, I moved to California, which, up until recently, is where I have called home. My mom is a Chinese woman from Singapore and my dad is a Chinese man from Burma, so I am an easterner raised with the ideals of a westerner.

Living so close to Hollywood, I absolutely felt the effects of trying to attain a exquisite body. At a young age, magazines, Tv and movies taught me that thin was beautiful; whatever else was disgusting.

Japanese School Girls

As a child and a teenager I was pretty lanky, maintaining a lean profile while provocative copious amounts of pizza, potato chips and candy. I never weighed myself, never dieted and never belief about my weight. By age 17, I was 5'6" and 120 lbs. Citizen would all the time say things like, "You're so skinny! It must be because you're Asian." My biggest body issue back then was my disappointment with my small boobs.

After high school, when I was colse to 20, I gained about 15 pounds. I was still eating the same as I had been, so I knew it wasn't the dreaded "freshman 15" Citizen were said to gain in college. My metabolism just started sucking. My friend was on the Atkins diet so I jumped on the bandwagon myself. It worked very well. I lost weight and got down to my high school size.

When I was 21, I gave acting a try. At every audition, I noticed the svelte girls there, they seemed so much smaller than me, even the non-Asians seemed skinnier. I had packed back the pounds after Atkins, so being in the "biz" caused me to diet again. I tried not to eat too much and went jogging. This worked too, I got my "skinny" frame back but I was starving myself. I all the time felt hungry and I would get headaches all the time.

I ended up quitting acting for spiritual reasons, not because it was hard but because I felt it drawing me away from God. So after my restrictive diet, I went wild. I binged on all things fat and sugar. I ballooned to about 155 pounds, the heaviest I have ever been. I stopped hearing that I was skinny, I got less and less looks from good looking strangers. I wasn't fat, but I was absolutely heavier. One of my closest guy friends at the time told me I wasn't as "attractive as I used to be." Needless to say, we stopped being so close, but his words got me thinking about my weight a lot. My dad would commentary on how fat I had gotten and that hurt the most. Once I was at a friend's house, he had stepped out for a few minutes to talk to his girlfriend. He left me alone with his brothers and friends, whom I had known for years but wasn't very close to. They began poking fun at my appearance, request me if I was "storing up for the winter." This was the bottom I had ever felt in my life. I felt ugly.

I ended up shedding 10 pounds, so now I weigh in at 145. Sometimes, I can get down to 141 and sometimes I go up to 148, but I pretty much stay in this range, its been this way now for about five years. I don't get commented on about my weight anymore and I feel that I'm a pretty mean size for an American.

The only Asian countries I have visited have been Singapore and Malaysia, which is where I am temporarily living at the moment. The first time I visited these places as an adult, I absolutely stuck out like a sore thumb. I was taller and thicker than most of the girls there. When I tried on clothes, I was a large or extra large. I have large thighs and a big butt. Though this J.Lo bod may be desirable in the Us, it is not here. Chinese girls are unbelievable to be miniature and slim. Well, you may say, "Jackie, how do you know this isn't all just in your head?" I know because roughly every one of my relatives here (that's about 12 aunts and uncles and 14 cousins) have told me that I am "too big." Too big for Asia, land of the "skinny Asian girl." I have seen some larger girls here, but they are few and far between.

Last night, I was advised to lose weight in order to "fit in" and be more thriving at my Tv output job here. This came as a rather big insult to me, before I arrived here, my weight had gone down to 141 and stayed there, which I was very happy with. Besides, what does my weight have to do with job performance? I was told that if I was skinnier, I would look more like them, would be accepted and respected more. I graciously listened to the advice I was given but said that I was happy with my body. If I lost weight, great, if not, I wouldn't cry myself to sleep.

I may come over as being determined with my body, but there are many moments by myself when I look at the mirror and I am repulsed.

One of my friends in Australia, whom I have managed to stay in sense with for over 16 years, called me out on my poor body image when I visited there last year. I had said a phrase that many of my female peers in America say; "I'm so fat!" This would be said casually while trying on clothes or while eating a handful of greasy fries. I didn't even perceive the frequency of my usage of this phrase. It was just something I said, it didn't mean I belief I was fat, perhaps, subconsciously, I belief if I said it to myself, I wouldn't have to hear it from others. My friend told me that Australian magazines try to build back women's body image. They feature women of all shapes on their covers. Even my friend, who is a happily plump Australasian, was photographed in her undies in the pages of the Australian Cosmo. I'm proud that she's proud of the way she looks.

I categorically wanted to write about this issue, not just as an Asian woman, but as a woman in general. We are constantly bombarded with images that tell us that we need to look this way or that. We all buy into it. As a larger set Asian woman, I feel that other larger Asian women (meaning those that aren't a size negative 14) feel much more pressure to be thin than the mean woman. Every race has its stereotypes. White men can't dance. White men can't jump. Black Citizen are thugs. All black guys are basketball players. Asians can't drive. All Asians are skinny. Well I beg to differ and I'm sure many of you do, too. Justin Timberlake is a white man with extraordinary dance abilities. Larry Bird was a white man that could jump. Barack Obama ('08 Us presidential hopeful) is a black man that is far from a thug. And I, Jackqueline Lou, am Not a skinny Asian.

And I'm fine with it.

I'm Not a Skinny Asian Girl

วันพฤหัสบดีที่ 22 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Shaku's Payback - Justice, New Guinea Style

Shaku had always been ashamed at what he was, and had lived most of his life as a loner, but for the first time, he walked proudly with his kinsmen. For the first time, he wore his father's sacred headdress, and felt entitled to do so. He had never joined in any of the sing-sings in the community with the other men, since he had never been initiated into the clans of the people of Dagar. Now, he led his mom and his uncles, with all their families, as they drummed and sang their way down the road to St. Xavier's.

All his life, he had been permanently reminded of his lowly status by the sound of his own name, but now the people sang it out with pride and energy, and he joined them with his own deep voice.

Japanese School Girls

"Shaku", meant half-caste in Kairiru language, and truly he had been only half a someone to the others in the community until now. Today, he hoped he would ultimately be a man.

I had noticed him some times in the community market that was held beside the airstrip at St. Xavier's. He always came with his mother, carrying her Kau Kau or Taro in a big basket, and sat silently beside her when she sold or traded her goods. He was taller than the other community men, and slightly lighter skinned, with wavy, rather than tightly curled hair, as the others did. He was also quite handsome, with chiseled features and a fine physique, but he rarely looked up or smiled at anyone. This was what made me notice him at first.

The other men and boys ordinarily wanted to want to know where I was from, and what the girls were like in my country! Shaku was shy it seemed, but he was interesting.

I had joined a staff of six Marist Bothers from all over the world, a few local New Guinean teachers, and two lay missionaries. It was a tropical paradise of a South Pacific island, that teemed with wartime and aged history.

We had learned of Shaku's story while a meeting held in the community a few weeks before. The men had been discussing what to do about the Japanese delegation that had come to retrieve the remains of their dead soldiers from the war.

For details on how we found the bodies of these men, please refer to my article, "Muschu Island -Paradise or Japanese Hell".

The men of Kragur, on the North side of the Island, had not wanted any recompense from the Japanese, as they felt they had killed many after the war, and were satisfied. Only Shaku had stood, with his father's aged walking stick raised, and waited to be heard.

Shaku had claimed the right of recompense from the people of the man who killed his mother's husband. The story became complex when he also told how it was his own father, a Japanese soldier, than had been the killer! Now, he demanded justice for his mother, and for himself, both having suffered much since then.

The meeting had decided that Shaku should meet the Japanese when they came, and have his day in court to make his claim.

That day had ultimately come, and as I watched him come up the airstrip, dancing and beating his Kundu, I could see that he was no longer content to remain in the background. Shaku remained in the lead of the processon, and as they got closer, I could hear his voice ringing out clearly. The court was about to begin.

The old day, the Japanese delegation, had cremated the remains of their fallen soldiers, and then made a large presentation to the school in appreciation for the respect we had given their men. One of the men who had come to Kairiru for this purpose, was a veteran of the war, and had been interned on Muschu Island nearby. He had recounted a tale of nightmare that had left us numb with shame and sorrow.
He had been a physician on Vokeo Island, some 40 kilometers to the North East, and later transferred to Kairiru. He had been captured with many others, and sent to Muschu at the end of the war. They had expected to be killed as vanquished enemies, but they never expected that the Americans would just leave them to starve to death.

The physician told of how he and 10,000 others had been left for 3 months on the island, with no food, water, or healing supplies. There were no guards on the island, but boat patrols around it permanently prevented any flee to Kairiru or the mainland 20 kilometers away.

Muschu is a pretty miniature coral Island, lying between Kairiru and the mainland of Papua New Guinea. Normally, about 4 or 5 hundred people live on the island, surviving on subsistence agriculture and fishing. They grow Kau Kau (sweet potato), Taro, and Yams, but the coral soil is poor compared to Kairiru. There are no springs on the island, but a small stream drains down to the sea from a coral depression that collects rainwater in the wet season. The coral reefs are very picturesque and unspoiled, and house some of the most spectacular species of life you will see anywhere.

The local people of Muschu had all been taken off the island before the Japanese arrived, but there was still nowhere near enough food and water for everyone. We had heard from a sobbing old man, how they had struggled desperately to survive, until it had come to be impossible for most of them. Many had committed suicide, while the others were reduced to eating all things on the island to the point where there was nothing left. Every plant, every coconut palm, every creature, and all things in reach around the reef had been consumed, until only bare coral remained. Then the real nightmare began.

When they had been ultimately picked up 3 months later, only 920 men had survived, and they were close to death from starvation and disease. As a doctor, he had somehow been able to keep himself alive, and had returned with the delegation to honor his fallen comrades.

This was the man who stood waiting for Shaku and his people as they approached. There were more than 100 people in the group, and as they entered the school grounds near the airstrip, they stopped for a few minutes to quit their sing-sing. The drumming solidified into a consistent rhythm and grew to a crescendo, before ending in a thundering pattern of beats that ended suddenly. As quiet settled on the assembly, Shaku stepped send and walked toward the area that had been chosen for the court.

The old Japanese Man had asked that the hearing be held in the shade of a huge Mango tree that stood beside the head of the airstrip near the school. He said, straight through the translator, that it was the only thing he could see that was the same on Kairiru. He recalled eating some of its fruit more than 30 years before, and we had offered him some of it, to which he declared, "it had gotten much sweeter!"

The chance had drawn a large assembly, and this required a lengthy series of introductions of all the concerned parties. Brother Patrick Howley, as Head specialist of St. Xavier's High School, made the introductions while honoring both traditions of formality.

First, he presented Mr. Tamura, the senior member of the delegation, who had related his sad tale the evening before. Then, after introducing the translator, and all the other members the Japanese delegation, he turned to Shaku and his people.

Br. Pat knew that he needed to tell everybody not only who this man was, but also construe the imagine for the claim of compensation. In order to do this, he had to tell Shaku's story, and he had to tell it properly, so that no loss of face occurred, on either side.

In order to put in order for this, Br. Pat had visited Shaku some times over the old few weeks, and talked with him about his life, and what he wanted from the Japanese. Although he had been reluctant to speak to Br. Pat at first, Shaku soon began to trust him, as he saw that he was a man who understood the people of Papua New Guinea.

With great respect, Br. Pat told us why this claim had been made against the Japanese people, now, after so much time had passed. The whole multitude sat spell bound, as if he were talking to each one of them personally, and he told a story that touched every one.

Since then, I have learned many of the details that Br. Pat was unable to tell, from Shaku himself, whom I now am pleased to call a friend, albeit a distant one. I will try to chronicle his life as best I can, from what he told me.

Shaku had been born in that terrible time after the war, when nothing could be done to help the villagers in their recovery. His father had been killed by the Japanese as he attempted to defend his gardens, and his mom had been assaulted. He had been the product of that assault.

With her husband dead, Shakus's mother, Umari, had lost her claim to most of her husband's land, and as a widow, she had to live on the charity of her brother and Uncle.

Of course, Shaku did not remember this time, but his earliest recollections were of hunting in the bush with his mom to find the sago grubs that grew in the rotting starchy Sago stumps. They had often had to resort to finding insects and small lizards in the bush for food, and he spoke with bitterness of how he had resented the other boys running to tease him with morsels of food their mother's had given them.

"Shaku, Shaku, bus Kanaka, kai kai knat knat!" they chanted, calling him a wild man who ate mosquitoes.

As he grew up to understand why he was treated differently in the village, he began to keep to himself, and spent many hours alone hunting in the bush on Kairiru's mammoth slopes with his dogs. He had explored every nook and cranny of the island, and found some things that confused him. He knew they must be from the white men, but why had they left everything?

From some of these things he made his best hunting spear, which never rusted or broke. By the time he was 16 years old, he had killed more pigs than any man on the island, and he had done it alone. Once he had even killed a crocodile with his spear when he cornered it in the swamp with his dogs. Still, no one praised him as they did the other men, although they always acceptable the meat.

He had built himself a house high up on the mountainside overlooking the lands his father had lost after the Japanese had killed him and raped his mother. Spending so much time alone, he sometimes brooded over his condition, and searched in his mind for a way out for himself and his mother.

When the white men had returned to Kairiru and built the "Haus Lotu" (church) at St. John's, he had hid in the bush and watched them build it. He was fascinated by the many unusual things he saw the white men doing, and for some weeks he observed them unnoticed.

One day, he had been coming down his miniature incommunicable path to see what they were doing, when he come around a bend in the trail and came face to face with one of the white men.

They were both startled, and Shaku had an overpowering urge to dart back into the bush and run away, but he couldn't. The man was taller than he was, but what made Shaku stare was the exciting red hair and red spots all over the man's face as he stood sweating and puffing in the heat. The man had a broad smile, and before Shaku had more than a moment to think, the man extended his hand for the universal hand shake.

Unable to refuse, he acceptable the hand, and was surprised to find it was firm and strong. The man
immediately began talking in Pidgin, which Shaku understood, and was again surprised to hear a "masta" speak like a community man.

The man told him his name was Father Andrew, and he had come from Wirui mission in Wewak to build a new mission on Kairiru, at St John's. When he asked for his name, Shaku was afraid to give his true name, reasoning that the man would only laugh as other sometime still did. He was reassured by the man's smile, and blurted out, "Shaku". This, the man acceptable without question, and motioned that they might sit down and talk along the path.

Uncertain what to do, Shaku had moved to cut some leaves from the bush so that the man could sit on them, but was pleased to see him squat and sit like any other community man.

Joining him, he was additional astounded to be offered Buai (betel nut) from a bag the man carried.
Coastal New Guinean people all chew Betel nut, and men almost never start a conversation with an additional one man until they have sat down and chewed "Buai pas taim". Still, it was surprising to find a "masta" that would do so, as I had also found from the reactions of the people when I tried it first.

Betel nut looks like a small coconut, about the size of a walnut, but it has a solid center, that becomes harder as it matures. It grows on a tree that looks very much like a tall, skinny Coconut palm, and produces its fruit at the top as they do.

The nut inside is ordinarily chewed with a part of the husk, accompanied by fresh male pepper fronds and "Kambang" (dry lime). It immediately stimulates the salivary glands to furnish vast amounts of saliva, and the juice turns a expected blood-red.

The ensue of swallowing the juice is a rush of well-being and talkativeness, followed by nausea and dizziness if too much is swallowed, similar to ones first exposure to chewing tobacco. Its secondary ensue is to wipe out the epithelial cells in the mouth, and exhaust the salivary glands straight through their copious production. It is essential to spit often, and one's capability to do so accurately is often the item of argument amongst the people. If people spit in the wrong place in the village, someone could sit in the spot, causing a permanent stain in the clothing, which was difficult to replace.

As they sat chewing, the calming ensue of the Betel nut motivated him to ask the man where he had come from. He said that he was from a place called Poland, but he could not go home, as it was gone in the war.

This somehow softened Shaku's heart towards the man, who had no home among his own people, and he decided to invite him to come up the mountain to his house. This seemed to please Father very much, so they set off up the glossy path with Shaku leading, and the priest struggling along behind. By the time they had reached the plateau where his house lay sheltered in the bush, it was quite hot, and the perspiration was flowing down both their faces.

Near the house, he had cleared a small area around a rocky outcrop that held a small spring. Many such springs poured out of the sides of Mount Malangis all around Kairiru. Clear, cool water gushed out in a natural fissure, and they both gratefully drank their fill.

They had spent the day together, sitting on the veranda of Shaku's house, finding out over the strait between the islands, and the mainland beyond. They talked about many things, and Shaku began to feel something with this man that he had not felt before.

All the years of loneliness ultimately burst the bounds of his shyness, and he told the man much of his life, and how he had been shunned by most of the villagers on the island.

In the afternoon, he had made tea for them, and while they were inside the house the priest had been very interested in all the items that decorated his walls and rafters. They were just some of the many things he had found in the bush while his many excursions. Over the years, this had come to be a renowned variety of war relics and remains.

Some, Shaku had fashion into beneficial items for himself, while others he had used as they were, or preserved them in some way. There were so many things that it was hard to chronicle them all, but he had utilized them in such a way as to create quite a pleasing atmosphere of rustic comfort.

After examining many of them, Father Andrew had asked him if whatever else knew that he had any of these things, and Shaku had replied that no one had ever been up to his house except him, and he had not told others about what he had found. He knew they would only take it from him, or warn him not to go where the "Masalai" would get him.

Then Father had warned him not to tell whatever about it at all, and also that he should be careful, since some of the articles could be dangerous. He had promised to be careful, and asked if maybe he could work for father on the new church.

The priest had effortlessly agreed to this, and he had often gone and talked to Father Andrew, who taught him a lot. He was also very quick at learning how to handle the tools the men used to build the church, and he was happy for the next few months while the church was completed.

It was straight through Father Andrew, that Shaku had ultimately understood why he was outcast, even from his own mother. She had not shown him the same affection he had seen with the other mothers and their babies. In fact, he had seen her play with other children in the community in ways he had never known himself. He felt that he always made his mom sad when he was around, so he had retreated to the mountainside, and only came to Dagar to bring her food he had gathered from their gardens.

No one had ever explained to him why he was different, and how the death of his father was somehow related to him.

When he had ultimately come to understand this, he run out of the priest's house into the jungle, and not returned for some weeks. When he did, he seemed thought about to learn all he could from the books Father had, and also about these Japanese people that had come to Kairiru, and caused so much trouble.
For the next some years, he made regular visits to Father's house, and straight through his diligent study, he became remarkably well educated. Father lent him whatever books he could, and soon their conversations became deeper and more prolonged.

Shaku questioned him for many hours about the Japanese, and what they had done in New Guinea. Father Andrew had been a missionary in Sarawak at the time, and the Japanese had been very harsh to him, as well as other Europeans. He did not disparage them to Shaku however, as he had been an admirer of Japanese culture before the war, and did not bear any hatred against them now.

Shaku had heard what had happened to the men on Muschu, and he knew the story was true, as he remembered the barren landscape of the island as he was growing up. The Coconut palms had grown up now, but when he was a boy, only Mangroves and thick vines grew on the island for many years. Even after 20 years the Muschu people had a difficult time surviving on the island, and now relied in general on revenue from the copra plantations begun by the white men.

When Father Andrew had been called to an additional one mission, he left Shaku with many of the books that he had not yet read. He had diligently carried them up to his house on the plateau above the mission, and continued his schooling alone.

Knowing of the many tunneling activities the Japanese had undertaken, he began his own series of explorations, specifically for them. After more than a year, he ultimately found a cave quite by accident, while he was hunting.

His two dogs had chased a pig up a stream bed to the base of a small waterfall, where it seemed to have disappeared. As the dogs circled around the small steep-edged valley searching for the pig, Shaku caught up to them and realized that there was no exit from the miniature canyon, although the pig was nowhere in sight.

Putting the clues together, he grasped his hunting spear firmly, and climbed up and behind the small waterfall that filled the basin below. As soon as he got around the cascade of water, he could see that there was a small cave behind the waterfall, and he could smell pig!

Calling his dogs up to the cave entrance, he readied himself for the charge that was sure to come. As soon as the dogs scrambled into the cave, they began their peculiar howling that told him they had found their prey. A large boulder had fallen from the roof of the cave and he jumped onto it, just as the dogs succeeded in driving the pig from his lair.

As it darted around the dogs to get out of the cave he caught it behind the left shoulder and used its own momentum to drive the spear home.

Monetarily focused on the dying pig, he had not noticed the boots lying additional back in the cave. As the dogs ceased their howling and began sniffing the carcass, Shaku was able to take in his surrounding in the dim light. One boot was just inside the cave mouth, and the other was additional back. They had obviously been disturbed by the pig.

Unable to see well enough to gawk additional back in the cave, he had gathered a estimate of dry palm branches, and tied them into a bundle for a torch. He lit one of the branches with a trade store match that he always carried in the bush, and pushed back additional into the cave.

He could speedily see that it wasn't of course a cave at all, but rather a tunnel, with regular edges, after the rubble at the entrance. He was able to move easily, although the roof was low, and there were tree roots growing down straight through it in places.

As he cleared the tree roots, he could make out a widening in the tunnel, and some boxes stacked along the wall. Approaching the boxes, he was a bit startled to see an additional one pair of boots, these still attached to their owner. In the light of the torch he could clearly see the remains of two men, but only one had a skull. Peering further, he found it also, lying beside the boxes.

Lighting an additional one torch, he used his home-made knife to open one of the boxes, and almost jumped back at what he saw. What that box contained was about to change Shaku's life, but he just didn't know how yet.

After checking the contents of the other boxes, the torches were nearly all gone, so he retrieved his pig, and made his way back to his house. He had told no one about this, but he had thought about gone to the tunnel some more times with his battery torch from the trade store, and brought all things to his house and incommunicable it.

For many months he had wondered what to do with his discovery, until one day he had gone to Dagar with some Betel nut and bush greens for his mother. He climbed up high on an old Garamut tree to find the kind he knew she liked, although she would eat alone in her house.

After he had left them on her veranda to her silent nod, he had gone to the house of Muriu, the canoe maker. He wanted to make an adze from some of the metal he had found, and Muriu was the best tool maker and carver on this side of the island. He was also an old man, and had never mentioned Shaku's real father, or teased him, as the others had.

Sitting with the old man while he smoked, Shaku had heard that the Japanese were coming to the island, and that Br. Pat had called a Kebung (meeting) to discuss recompense by the Dagar people. Shaku could hardly believe his ears, and had questioned Muriu a long time before returning to his house on the mountain.

When the Kebung took place, Shaku had stood for the first time, and spoken as a man. His father's death required payback, and he claimed the right of compensation, and they had acceptable it.
Now, he stood before the court, his village, and his family behind him, and he felt good inside. He felt no shame as Br. Pat told his story, omitting most of the details told here. He was proud that his mom stood with him, and he forgave her lack of affection, as he saw her shed tears while some parts of the speech.

Br. Pat terminated by request the Magistrate, and all those in the legal assembly if they now had any questions of Shaku, or the Japanese delegation.

After listening to the emotional tale of Shaku's life and his claim, the whole audience was somewhat held in silence for a few minutes, until ultimately the Magistrate from Wewak Provincial court stood up and cleared his throat.

He said, "Shaku, the court acknowledges your rightful claim to recompense in this matter, however, you have not yet made it clear what this might be. Also, though you have clearly shown that you and your mom have been wronged, there is no evidence here that Mr.Tamura, or any other man yet alive has committed these crimes, and this court has no authority to charge them if it did. What is it that you would want us to do for you sir?"

Without hesitation Shaku had spoken up, "Give me my honor, and my mother's!" With that, he had turned and gone back into the crowd of people that had accompanied him. Lifting a large wooden crate that had been carried by two other men from the village, he set it down in front of Mr. Tamura, who had remained standing at attention throughout.

Bending to unlock the box with a key around his neck, Shaku opened it and stood back to watch the reaction of the men.

Inside the box were stacks of Japanese money, and bags of silver coins, as well as many soldier's tags and personal items. At first Mr. Tamura seemed to wonder what he was finding at, but when he realized what it was, he began to chatter excitedly to the other members of the delegation, and they all crowded around the box. While they poured over its contents, Shaku had called to a man in the group, who brought him a long bamboo tube that was terminated at both ends.

Removing the cap from one end, he withdrew a beautiful Samurai sword encrusted with jewels, wrapped with silver braid, and presented it with a bow to Mr. Tamura. Tears unashamedly gushed from Mr. Tamura's eyes as he bowed deeply and acceptable the sword.

Through the translator, he expressed his genuine,sincere appreciation for the gift, and tried to construe something that soon everybody gathered began to understand.

This was the sword of the Japanese Commanding officer of the Japanese garrison on Kairiru, as his name was clearly embossed on the blade. It was worth a family fortune, and there was no doubt that Shaku would be richly rewarded for returning it to the family.

What was more, the coins in the bags were pure silver, and had been used to pay the soldiers. They were all W. W. Ii vintage, but they were still worth a lot to collectors.

Finally, the tags brought an additional one round of tears and thanks from the delegation. These bits of rusted metal were all the proof many families would ever have, that their sons had died an honorable death, and not just disappeared. They were also invaluable.

So, Shaku got his "payback" in ways that he could never have imagined. some weeks later we received a radio message from Wiriu mission, that Shaku was to come to Wewak, as he needed to open a bank account.

The families of all the men whose tags he had found, had organized themselves, and raised over 10,000 Kina, a expected estimate in a country where a whole community may only earn 100 kina year. Additionally, the Japanese government had posted a bonus for the returned coinage, addition the prize to 25,000 kina!

But the real surprise was to come a month later, when Shaku received a letter containing a check from the family of the Japanese Commanding officer. It was for an additional one 50,000 Kina.

Shaku had come to be the richest man in the whole East Sepik!

Shaku's Payback - Justice, New Guinea Style

วันพุธที่ 21 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Video Clips. Duration : 4.48 Mins.



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วันอังคารที่ 20 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

วันจันทร์ที่ 19 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Video Clips. Duration : 7.18 Mins.



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วันอาทิตย์ที่ 18 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 2.68 Mins.



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วันเสาร์ที่ 17 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Gift Ideas For immature Boys - Don't Miss Out on These Great gift Ideas For Boys

Thinking of what gift ideas for adolescent boys? If you're looking for the best gifts for that hard to please teenager, one word comes to mind: cool! When you're a teen, it's all about what's in and what's out. It undoubtedly makes a good attempt to try and find out what are the most recent "cool" things for adolescent boys.

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Japanese School Girls

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Gift Ideas For immature Boys - Don't Miss Out on These Great gift Ideas For Boys

วันศุกร์ที่ 16 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 25.80 Mins.



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วันพฤหัสบดีที่ 15 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Japan voyage - Rotary Group Study Goes to Japan, narrative Seven

The international club known as Rotary promotes annual trip that all citizen between the ages of 26 and 40, male and female, and of all backgrounds - should know about - because it is a Rotary-funded six week study aboard and anything can apply to be a part of this primary life experience. If you are this age group - you could enjoy the kind of contact that is described in my notes in this article. To find out more about the schedule go to http://www.Rotary.org and crusade for Gse - Group Study transfer - and contact your local Rotary Club for more information.

Our adventures continued:

Japanese School Girls

April 22nd - Friday:

The best part about going to so many Rotary Clubs is traveling nearby the Prefecture (like our 'state')and seeing so much from place to place - and we're headed today - Antonio, Harry and I with Kenji in his Land Rover - to Buzen West Rotary Club - which takes an hour drive and is settled at about 1 o'clock (if the island is a clock) on the coast. We're in gorgeous wide open land as we drive there - lakes and mountains and not crowded like I opinion that Japan would be. But Japanese think that America looks like La - and I'm afraid that before this trip I opinion that Japan all looked like Tokyo (Harry said that too). The Buzen Club reminds me of being in old Japanese countryside, and we're served a very former (but spicer) rice and curry lunch (yumm - we say). I spoke - and the questions show that the men are lively about women in Rotary - someone asked what happened after our supreme Court decision to let women into Rotary.

Close by was the Tsuiki Japan Air Force Self Defense Base - and Antonio was very enthused to be privileged to what we saw there. We entered the base (spooky to think of Japanese air attacks) - and got a briefing of the history of the base (that it was occupied by the U.S. For a period of time and then returned to the Japanese) and the types of operations and kinds of planes that were on the base. We walked out on to the tarmac where they had pulled out three fighter planes for us to see - an F-1, F-2 and an F-16 (first time that I'd ever seen a fighter plane up close, and was interested to hear that Japanese and Americans collaborated on the most technologically developed planes). One pilot for each of these planes was very nice about explaining his plane to us and its capabilities - one pilot said that he had a wife and two kids, and the plane was his "girlfriend" - it was funny to hear him tell this. Antonio was surprised that the F-16 could pull 9 g's - sounded like a wild ride to me. The pilots were young and thin - because Antonio said that helped them to withstand the g-force - and that they wore extra suits to keep the pilots' blood pumping while they were soaring in the sky. We were invited to the top of the control tower (apparently a rare opportunity) and we could see out over the whole base - including lots of the three types of planes that we had been introduced to earlier. There were rows and rows of planes - like a movie set where they were all ready to take off. I enjoyed the mammoth coast line and lushes mountains that we could see - and hoped that these planes would never be used. We stopped in the Px - and then said goodbye to our gracious hosts. Kenji made a bar-b-que for us at his house later in the evening (Japanese style - which I now understand is all very thinly sliced) - and invited some fun friends - and I hated to miss the late night fun but went to bed early.

April 23rd - Saturday:

Hooray - today we are headed for Yufuin - I read about this before we came to Japan and am delighted that our hosts included this "get away" - it's the "lake-tahoe-wonderul-spot" like we would go off to enjoy in California - and it is marvelous that visiting here I think that we are at the same time "so different, and so much the same" in what we like and what we do. It turns out that citizen that we have met in many of the dissimilar Rotary Clubs have second (usually bigger) homes in Yufuin. We're headed to Kenji's house - and the Tanaka's will be up because they have a house there too. It feels like getting into my Suv and heading for a Tahoe recession - only it's the most celebrated hot springs in Japan.

First though - we stop at the wine store - Kenji is a certified wine trainer we learn - and he wants to serve us California wines for the party tonight (lots of parties with our hosts) - and he says, please don't serve him a sake party when he comes to America (he likes California wines much better) - he's happily joking. Ridge and Opus One are favorites of his - and we leave the store with wine, chocolate, champagne - and off we go because the other team members are waiting for us on the road. Yufuin is past Buzen, along the coast and then a steady increase in grade into the mountains. There are big mountains here - and three hours later, if the island is a clock - we're at 3 on the dial. We come nearby the ridge of the mountain and look down on the gorgeous town of Yufuin - where everybody wants to come, Kenji says. It's bigger than I opinion - and as we drive down the main street - it's the Carmel/Aspen of Japan - fun petite shops that you'd love to poke into with Japanese artifacts. Kenji has a popular lunch spot in mind - the restaurant, Sadonoya - and the rest of the team is there. We sit at a long table on the floor - and they bring hot charcoal pots for us to roast chicken and sprouts on - with blackberry wine that is made in Yufuin (and beer). I offered to make this the "America buys lunch" - but the five Gse hosts would not hear of it - I've spent 0 so far on this trip. There is a good feel in Yufuin - kicked back and relaxed - very Japanese - I see the Japanese shapes in trees and flowers that are so characteristic in Japanese works of art. Much to seek here. We walk through the narrow markets streets, surrounded by magnificent mountains, and stop at Nurukawa Hot Springs for an afternoon soak - the hot springs are all dissimilar and this is a small one, where you can also stay if you are visiting. I'm happy because Teiko and Hiroshi have joined us too.

Kenji's house is up the hill - and is a lovely mountain house, like one that we know. It's a white field stone, with a porch on the front - and when you step out onto the porch, there is a marvelous view of the mountain range. The girls are staying here - and the boys in a house below. Kenji has evening meal reservations at 6Pm at a not-easy-to-get-into cafeteria in the town called Kame-no-i- and it's lovely, in a back room, in a garden setting, with about twenty of us. Mika Hyoguchi (Mika) - classification, Finishing School Owner, Ryoichi Hanechi - classification, Insurance, Masayuki Sugino - supervision Senior Living, Tomoi Kondou - Real Estate and Bakery - and Takayuki Fujimoto, Architect - the Gse inbound committee are all there. The conversation is lively - evening meal is very Japanese, with plates that I don't know (including a small fish) - and it amazes me that champagne, beer, red wine, white wine - are all served at the same dinner.

Again - you might think that the evening ended here - but more was coming. Seiho Ryu joined us for evening meal - a "father" to Kenji - and he is a very celebrated artist in Japan - try 0,000 for one of his paintings - and gorgeous work. We went back to his house - and he signed a book of his painting for each of us - and visiting his house was a treat all on its own. You walked into the house (took off your shoes, of course) and into one big room (kitchen and living) with a big heavy Japanese table and benches on one side and his artist studio on the other - but spanning the whole backside of the house were full length windows that gave you a gasping view of the town below, grand scape of mountains, foliage of the mountain side - and delicate bamboo trees on the far left - as if you were perched for flight. It was easy to understand how Mr. Dou was moved to paint - I would be too - with the magnificence of this majestic spot on earth. He's well known for his delicate portrayal of cherry blossoms and their trees - in the color and stroke that says Japanese. I would love to have some of his work - only even a small one costs ,000. We went downstairs where three of his large paintings where hanging - one of intense cherry blossoms, one of the vista from his living room view (this was the 0,000 one), and one of Mt. Fuji -- all with radical color and gold leaf. Kimiyoshi, Kenji's friend, played the piano for us with all kinds of songs, and we sang as best we could. It was 1Pm before we headed home, bowing many times and thanking Mr. Ryu.

This article is a series -- so read on -- and many days supervene in our marvelous adventure!

Japan voyage - Rotary Group Study Goes to Japan, narrative Seven

วันพุธที่ 14 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 6.35 Mins.



Keywords: Lucky, Star, episode, Ring, Konta, Izumi, Kagame, Hiiragi, Tsukasa, Miyuki, Takara

วันอังคารที่ 13 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 1.52 Mins.



Tags: anjunadeep, anjunabeats, anjunadeep:03, stephen j kroos, martin roth, electrobios, album, progressive, deep house, techno, PROFF, answer42, interplay, embliss, soundprank, spooky, matt lange, timmy & tommy, sunny lax, roddy reynaert, ignition, trance, james grant, jaytech, anjunadeep 03, above & Beyond, TATW, trance around the world, underworld, MIX, DJ, dance, uplifting

วันจันทร์ที่ 12 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 3.48 Mins.



Tags: after, school, orange, caramel, nana, lizzy, raina, 마법소녀, cnblue, minhyuk

วันอาทิตย์ที่ 11 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Video Clips. Duration : 4.28 Mins.



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วันเสาร์ที่ 10 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

From Classicism to Impressionism - The Life and Works of Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841-1919) was a very versatile artist. The subjects of his paintings range from the vibrancy of crowds in the center of Paris to the tranquility of a summer's day in the French countryside. He was also a prolific portrait artist and still life painter. Although Renoir belonged to the impressionist school of painters, he trained initially as a classical artist and many of his earlier works are classical in style.

An example of a classical work by Renoir is the "Portrait of William Sisley," painted in 1864. William Sisley, the father of the painter, Alfred Sisley, is depicted very much in the classical style with a high level of realism. However, the way in which Renoir introduced light into this painting was to be supplementary advanced later on in his work in his impressionistic works.

Japanese School Girls

The son of a tailor, Renoir was born in 1841 in Limoges, France. Four years later, he moved to Paris with his family. His artistic work began when he worked as a decorator of porcelain at Levy Freres. His talents soon earned him a pay rise.

In 1862, Renoir started to study classical painting at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Nearby this time, Renoir worked for assorted clients, painting ceilings with ornate decorations, and it is also believed that he decorated several Parisian cafes but no evidence of this remains.

In January 1868, he began to share a studio with Frederic Bazille. He was a frequent visitor to the Cafe Guerbois, where he met other painters such as Edouard Manet, and Edgar Degas. In 1869, Renoir and Claude Monet painted what are regarded as the first impressionist paintings, showing the effects of light on the water of the river Seine.

A pause in Renoir's work was brought about by the Franco-Prussian War in the middle of 1870 and 1871 when he served in the military.

In 1874, Renoir and Monet organized the impressionists' first exhibition. Seven of Renoir's paintings, including the theater scene, "The Box," and "Dancer," were on display. The exhibition was not a success and harsh comment of their work ensued.

Nevertheless, Renoir continued to paint in the impressionist style with themes from nature resulting in such paintings as the "Path foremost straight through Long Grass," which is now exhibited at the Musee d'Orsay in Paris.

In March 1875, the impressionists held an auction of their work. several paintings sold, including two of Renoir's works, albeit at low prices and with scathing remarks from spectators.

Several of Renoir's paintings, including "Moulin de la Galette" and "The Swing," featured in someone else exhibition of impressionist art, held in 1877. Unfortunately, this exhibition was also not widely acclaimed with just a few buyers of the impressionists' paintings.

After the failure of this exhibition, Renoir re-focused on painting in the classical style and his painting, "Mme Charpentier and her Children," was accepted by the prestigious Salon in 1879. Now displayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, it depicts a cozy scene of house life in the Charpentier family's Japanese room.

Renoir's fortunes began to change in 1881, when the dealer, Durand-Ruel, began to buy his paintings, paying in monthly installments. Renoir went on trips to Italy and Algeria, where he was greatly inspired. During this time abroad, he painted such works as "The Bay of Naples" and "Algerian Girl," which is now exhibited at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. After his return to Paris, twenty-five of Renoir's paintings were displayed in an exhibition organized by Durand-Ruel.

During the remainder of the 1880s, Renoir's paintings remained in the classical style. Some critics discern that his style was reminiscent of the French painter, Ingres. However, in 1890, Renoir returned to the "gentle and light" style of impressionist painting and he was to remain painting in this way for the rest of his life. Although he suffered from arthritis at this time, he continued to paint with speed and enthusiasm.

In 1904, Renoir's retrospective exhibition at the Salon d'Automne was extremely successful. Despite attacks of dullness and fingers crippled with arthritis, he continued to draw and paint, even after he was confined to a wheelchair in 1912. He said: "If I have to select in the middle of walking and painting, I'd rather paint."

Renoir died in 1919, a few months after the prestigious Louvre museum in Paris had accepted for display his "Portrait of Mme Charpentier."

Renoir's carefree spirit is captured in many of his paintings which relate "joie de vivre" and contentment with life. The "Moulin de la Galette," for example, is a intriguing crowd scene painted from real life in a dance hall in the Montmartre area of Paris. It shows people drinking, dancing and commonly having a good time.

Renoir's works are now on display in assorted art galleries and hidden collections worldwide, including the Usa, United Kingdom, France, Russia, Brazil and Japan. The variety of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York includes several of Renoir's impressionistic works, such as a painting of his last home, "The Farm at Les Collettes, Cagnes." At the Art found of Chicago, works by Renoir comprise the colorful painting of "Two Sisters on the Terrace."

In London, "The Box," which was part of the impressionists' first failed exhibition, can now be viewed at the Courtauld found of Art, while the renowned Parisian crowd scene, "The Umbrellas" is on display at the National Gallery.

The Musee d'Orsay in Paris has a large variety of paintings by Renoir, including "Moulin de la Galette" and "The Swing."

The final word should go to Renoir himself, who summarized his doctrine of life in this way: "I've never sought to direct my life. I have all the time let myself be carried along by events."

From Classicism to Impressionism - The Life and Works of Pierre-Auguste Renoir

วันศุกร์ที่ 9 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

The slight Mexican Girl

I'm a microscopic Mexican Girl

I'm a microscopic Mexican girl
Crawling straight through the scrub in the desert
Escaping from government branch injustice
The very injustice she looks for every day
When she opens her door as a Mexican child
she saw it coming that bad day, una dia mal!
each day can be a bad day in Texas
con los gringos con corazones frios
with the white men with frigid hearts
for microscopic girls who have no money, no pretty dresses,
no shoes at all, no milk no morning meal
it leaves a hole
in the heart in the morning

Japanese School Girls

in front of her Texas house the sun doesn't shine
and her father has no hope
he doesn't have a newspaper every day like the white man
he cannot read it anyway as he doesn't speak English
how can he find a job?
His smart microscopic girl cannot read for him
in English and Spanish en ingles y espanol
as she hasn't started school yet

en in el the morning manana en frente de su casa house
en Texas en Tejas
la sol no brilla
the sun doesn't shine
y su padre no tiene esperanza
her father doesn't have hope
no tienen el periodico cada dia como los blancos
he doesn't have a newspaper each day like the white man
no puede leer en ingles tambien como los otros hombres
he can't read in English either like the other men
?como trabajo el?
How can he go to work?
la nina no puede leerlo por el, porque
his daughter can't read it for him because
no esta en la escuela por/para las lecciones
en la lengua de los estados de America

A screaming male voice emerges
from an Army helicopter over my head
it is a father yelling "I Am Your Father!!"
she recognizes the voice but does not
know the man screaming at her
and hides added behind a dry Texas
tumbleweed with sharp stickers
Pulling her too-small dress down to cover up
her own privacy privacia
she knows her privacy is her own
she thinks what she is too terrified to say--

La Tengo!! Quiero mi cuerpo que es celeste. Yo soy confidente que Tengo mas que el gringo hombre, porque mi cuerpo y alma es mia el todo es mio!) La Tengo!!
Es Mia mio
it's mine, estupido stupid!!

As she crawls straight through the dirt she looks in terror
through the infrared search light pulsing
and spreading colse to her child's body
like red liquid liquida
like a wide mantle of fuschia fear
in the dark desert night
overtaking the small girl in the fast redness
encompassing her optic reality overtaking her
she lifts up her hands in a fervent child's prayer
to the Virgin mum Mary Guadalupe
her patron saint and friend
on many desert dog day nights
in past sufferings suferados suferidos sufridos
sufridandosos como el pasado
pasados posasa posadas

The superior man in the sky continues
To search the desert floor once her womb
exposing the small shivering child
now a small reptile a spotted lizard blending in
and crawling away
to destiny she worries this must be destiny
but it wasn't destiny it was just solamente the confrontation
the terrible conference with the white man el confrontacion con el gringo
with the white man
in the helicopter
that's all it was
era todo fue todo

el gringo menaced
amenazio fue amenazando era amenazando
the gringo menaced
in the dark satanic night
It was a groping ignorance a broad perception
that forced her
to be a maid in her worst memories
of tortilla degradation as a young (un joven una jovena)
American girl with no stereotypes allowed
because it's against the law she knows it was
against the law to call her a maid
due to her race and conjecture not a brown raisin
she is never Nunca a raisin at all
The Man El Hombre continues torturing
Continua Torturando A Ella her with his authority....

He ruins her life from the sky
and she knows it on the dirt

Su Autoridad no es bueno isn't good
even though it is es verdad ahora es
que ella no es solamente una domestica Solamente!

no es Solamente!
Solamente!!! una domestica
no es una domestica todo.

Running every day to Juarez Mexico
to get away from that big lie that cold fear that big lie
la mentira no es la razon no es la verdadero!!no es verdad!!
es un mentira it's a lie
about her the microscopic Mexican girl
la nina la estrellita bonita
succumbs, fainting, but people pick her up
Many hands lift her up from the ground where she had fainted in a quaking terror causing her young heart
to stop with a loss of blood sugar from fear
depleting the microscopic girl
spiked it spike spike spiked

her heart siezes from terror
feeling like a raw crucifixion even though
she was so young and had not
breathed her last breath yet
feeling the prematurely stolen breath suck out of her mouth, the microscopic Mexican Queztochoatl child is also a serpent king.

The microscopic girl dies
she was a king inside herself (no less than a king ) but more than a queen. She is
a lizard not a maid and she sometimes
cleans hotel rooms for food - not a burrito
but a prayer with daily hope and foresight now as a small Hispanic child in the U.S.

The crowd carries her over the border
where the Rio Grande is small
and contrite in the saguaro desert night
she is reborn as a microscopic Mexican girl no one loves
but the big man in the sky wants
the native Indian girl she is he wants her pura
Pura pura pura graca graca grace
her brown-skinned charm and sweet microscopic legs
he wants to restrain her foot
tie it up just like all the rest
she thinks quietly to herself and the people
in the dark satanic night join in her prayers

That is what he wants! that is what he wants!
That is what the superior man wants
Her booty
The rich man wants her booty
The microscopic Mexican girl's beauty

Is he the devil they ask her?
I said no he is not the devil
but he is no friend of mine
he is a man (un hombre) who does not want me
to be free except every now and then
I breathe now but I will not breathe later
with every breath I take I look ahead in fear!con miedo!

He wants to jail me between his legs again
so I can never leave never leave leave leave
the superior white man who is black inside
not like a black man but a distinct kind of black
but I am finally a beautiful woman now
although the child
is still a child la nina es una nina todavia
constantly todo el tiempo una cara nina
I all the time knew he would come to hurt me
one day soon and I waited until this day

Part of his arm is just I had been told
but the rest is dark and ugly they said it again to me
his teeth are black and angry
he is the occult the deep night he is Satan
they will help me, they said in the constituent assembly
if he approaches you in the dark lonely night
remember he is the Dark Night Satanic
not the Star of David or our Christmas Star
the small crowd warned the microscopic Mexican girl
about the looming helicopter in the sky
that had just menaced her

He will find you microscopic pinanita! No lo quiero!
I'm not a pinata, and he is not the occult!!
the microscopic Mexican girl said! A visitor spoke -remember
the algorithm for the matrix
the red bandwidth
the buxom shortwave the Grundig-
the minimization realization of metaphors
Will recognize the oppressed child
it will be awhile before we can risk
the dark curtain again but we will help you-

Lining her water cups up like a gambler
on the southwestern bus depot counter
she felt anger just mental about the theft
the microscopic Mexican girl yells up to the bitter sky man
she yells to the doomsday pilot over her head
"Get A good Life!!
!Tenga Un Vida Mas Buena!"
the violent flyer flew away with disappearing infrared
her product stolen
his waning light trailing behind him
the desert looked general once more - like God
intended it to look - because he is gone
the crowd of people danced a jubilant
dance un jubilante baile celebrando la victori
a de la nina mexicana mixteca

her heart suddenly stopped pounding
stopped racing dangerously fast and became calm again
she realized she was safe again
Lifting her and breathing on her mouth, the people
regained her composure lifting her up to the
blue blue black night comforting sky
so she could come to be the leader she nothing else but is
she practically lost her place in the hierarchy
through a premature prematura death la muerte
but the people embraced the microscopic Mexican girl
who is not ever a maid not a slave
but a king no less
y more than a queen
and held her up to the night sky cherished

While the superior man didn't see the beauty
of her heritage, the microscopic Mexican girl
doesn't care anymore about him
and laughs - ella sonrie, saying
Forget The Man, The Gringo!!
!Forget Him!
!Hasta Luego You Loser!!
!Hasta Pronto!
!!Get A Life!!
!!Vaya Con Dios!!
as the helicopter recedes into the distant stars

The microscopic Mexican girl walks away in her popular shoes
(en sus zapatos favoritos)
relieved she is still alive
walking toward her destined destina destiny
to eat four appetizing tacos
para comer quatro tacos deliciosas
because she was not ever once a maid
in her life
in the rich man's room or his bed or bathroom
of the disgraced harem
no one is a domestic there are not words
for her fear in the night
!no more!! no more!! no more!
nunca mas! Nunca mas! Nunca mas!

No more! porque la hija mexicana no es
!!!Una Domestica!!!
She is a microscopic star a yellow sun with drive and power

Es Un Estrellita Un Sol Amarilla Con Fuerza
Una Prayer Una Beauty

Es Una Belleza Del Rezo,
Cada Dia Todos Las Dias

Almost the End - (Casi El Fin):

when it rains it pours,
las desgracias nunca vienen solas.

The microscopic Mexican girl has hope and courage for the difficult decade she will have. She plans to grow up and fight racial patrimony discrimination, as well as the men who fly helicopters in the desert sky over her head. Her conscience will continue to lead her to victory.

La Lucha Continua!! The Struggle Continues!!
!!La Lucha Continua!!...

© 2009 Patricia McGurk Martin

The slight Mexican Girl

วันพฤหัสบดีที่ 8 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 23.72 Mins.



Tags: funimation, anime, japanese, negima, magister, negi, magi, springfield, wizard, harem

วันพุธที่ 7 มีนาคม พ.ศ. 2555

Tube. Duration : 4.33 Mins.



Tags: Brown, Eyed, Girls, Brown-eyed, girl, 2009, MV, HQ, HD, download, lyrics, english, eng, sub, subs, subtitles, 브라운아이드걸스, Narsha, 나르샤, Oasis, Ga, In, 가인, LOVE, 캔디맨, Candy, Man, 3rd, Album, Kpop, Kmusic, Korea, Korean, Jaeurazn, Abraca, dabra, Abracadabra