I have a confession to make: I like teaching kids.
They taste like chicken.
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Even here in Japan, there are the occasional outbursts of school violence. A few months ago, an 11-year-old pushed a 5-year-old out of a window. Thankfully, none of the reactions have been as utterly ridiculous as this.
To summarize: a kid got arrested because he created a web animation that school administrators “determined” was “threatening” to teachers. Not actual violence. But the potential of violence. Thought police, anyone?
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I took Uncle Fred to Kichijoji the other day.
No offense intended to all the other good Fred’s of the world, but Fred is what I call that niggling feeling in the back of my head that makes me want to board the first plane for McMurdo Station, get the heck away from everything living and bumping into me.
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I’m cutting down on my giant-pink-bunny- with-the-strange-genetic-defects addiction.
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Recently, I’ve spent many of my days off doing what amounts to spiritual damage control.
These are the bad Tokyo days, where the volumes of people ramming into each other as we all go about our aimless and petty lives, amounting to not much more than farts in a wind tunnel.
Of course, there are worse things in life. (Or as the Monty Python song goes, “Worse things happen at sea, you know.”)
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Everything old is new again, and there are now photos from my trip in February to the onsen in Noboribetsu and Jigoku-dani, the Valley of Hell. Hit the link below to see more.
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