Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Harry Potter
Spoilers, of course, lurk below.
I've been reading Harry Potter since shortly before The Prisoner of Azkaban was released in America in September of 1999. I was 16 then, and just starting college. I took college courses and my last two years of high school concurrently. It was the first week of college, the first week of this new and challenging part of my life, but I had this book and I couldn't believe the excitement I felt. The need to continue the story dwarfed my interest in my mid-secondary education.
On the night of July 8th a scant year later, a thunderstorm rolled over Minnesota and the power, horribly, went out. It was by candlelight that I finished The Goblet of Fire and witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort. Harry was beaten and battered, his heart flayed. And I wept for him.
I was always the sentimental type.
It would be three more years before I returned to Hogwarts. The world had changed since The Goblet of Fire, perhaps for the worse. Hamline University was my home then and I was spending the summer studying horror film and fiction in preparation to write my own screenplay. That night, hours before release, I was studying the 1961 film The Innocents, based on James's novel The Turn of the Screw. My brother was staying with me that night, and after the film ended, we trekked over to the local Borders store and indulged in a little Harry Potter before party. I had dyed my hair blue and wore around a wizard's cap. My brother, perhaps not interested and maybe even a little embarrassed, took this all in good humor. He was always more clear-headed than I, and while I retired to return to Rowling's world, he retired to bed.
Turbulent. Violent. Dark. It was a changed world. When my mother appeared to collect my brother in the early hours of the morning, she met her contemplative eldest son, whispering and a little withdrawn. Did she know that again Rowling had brought me on the verge of tears by letting me peek behind the veil?
The Order of the Phoenix would have to tide me over for the next two years until The Half-Blood Prince. I was working at the Borders store from which I'd purchased The Order of the Phoenix, in that slump after college, wondering who I was and who I should be, and looking forward at the coming months with anxiety. I didn't bother to attend the release party, content enough to pick up my copy at six a.m. Though anyone in fandom can tell you the shared Harry Potter experience is special and engrossing, I viewed The Half-Blood Prince as my oasis in uncertainty. It was a private thing, and my excitement was tied to the desperation I was feeling in my everyday life. But what an oasis to rest at: war had come and no one was safe. Harry is finally left to stand on his own, almost-but-not-quite a man, all his defenders blown aside. There was hope, but it was almost insurmountable: how could Harry possibly fulfill the task, the quest, he'd been given?
That brings us to now. Two years later--almost impossibly--I'm teaching English in Japan. I live on a small island in Okinawa, impossibly divorced from all the Harry Potter hype, with only my own stupidity to make me hunger for Harry's final chapter. The book came Monday, a couple days after its release. Without a glance at the table of contents, I began the last journey into Rowling's world.
This is perhaps cliche of me, but the old adage from first Corinthians comes to mind: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Multitudes of critics, fans and reviewers espouse upon whether or not Rowling's series is childish fantasy or grown-up fiction. Its both, of course. The childish escapism pulls you in and grabs you in the first half of the series, but come The Goblet of Fire, the gloves come off and we're in the midst of a war where suspicion, paranoia and violence are ready to burst forth at any moment, throwing Harry and his friends into danger.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows breaks from the formula of the previous books. There is no return to Hogwarts. There are no classes, homework or detentions. From the outset, Harry is on the run, trying to balance protecting himself and his friends while attempting to finish the task Dumbledore left him. The pressure is on throughout the entire book, and its a testament to Rowling's skill--and the numerous hints of multiple deaths--that you feel as if every character is in danger. I was satisfied when I closed the book. I felt as if Harry is at peace, that he's gotten all that he ever wanted and dreamed of having. As a reader, you've known from his first glance into the Mirror of Erised just what Harry's always wanted, and I could write forever about what I liked and hated and loved, but knowing Harry is happy, I can move on.
Thank you, J.K. Rowling. I can only hope that, for you, lightning will strike the same place twice.
I've been reading Harry Potter since shortly before The Prisoner of Azkaban was released in America in September of 1999. I was 16 then, and just starting college. I took college courses and my last two years of high school concurrently. It was the first week of college, the first week of this new and challenging part of my life, but I had this book and I couldn't believe the excitement I felt. The need to continue the story dwarfed my interest in my mid-secondary education.
On the night of July 8th a scant year later, a thunderstorm rolled over Minnesota and the power, horribly, went out. It was by candlelight that I finished The Goblet of Fire and witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort. Harry was beaten and battered, his heart flayed. And I wept for him.
I was always the sentimental type.
It would be three more years before I returned to Hogwarts. The world had changed since The Goblet of Fire, perhaps for the worse. Hamline University was my home then and I was spending the summer studying horror film and fiction in preparation to write my own screenplay. That night, hours before release, I was studying the 1961 film The Innocents, based on James's novel The Turn of the Screw. My brother was staying with me that night, and after the film ended, we trekked over to the local Borders store and indulged in a little Harry Potter before party. I had dyed my hair blue and wore around a wizard's cap. My brother, perhaps not interested and maybe even a little embarrassed, took this all in good humor. He was always more clear-headed than I, and while I retired to return to Rowling's world, he retired to bed.
Turbulent. Violent. Dark. It was a changed world. When my mother appeared to collect my brother in the early hours of the morning, she met her contemplative eldest son, whispering and a little withdrawn. Did she know that again Rowling had brought me on the verge of tears by letting me peek behind the veil?
The Order of the Phoenix would have to tide me over for the next two years until The Half-Blood Prince. I was working at the Borders store from which I'd purchased The Order of the Phoenix, in that slump after college, wondering who I was and who I should be, and looking forward at the coming months with anxiety. I didn't bother to attend the release party, content enough to pick up my copy at six a.m. Though anyone in fandom can tell you the shared Harry Potter experience is special and engrossing, I viewed The Half-Blood Prince as my oasis in uncertainty. It was a private thing, and my excitement was tied to the desperation I was feeling in my everyday life. But what an oasis to rest at: war had come and no one was safe. Harry is finally left to stand on his own, almost-but-not-quite a man, all his defenders blown aside. There was hope, but it was almost insurmountable: how could Harry possibly fulfill the task, the quest, he'd been given?
That brings us to now. Two years later--almost impossibly--I'm teaching English in Japan. I live on a small island in Okinawa, impossibly divorced from all the Harry Potter hype, with only my own stupidity to make me hunger for Harry's final chapter. The book came Monday, a couple days after its release. Without a glance at the table of contents, I began the last journey into Rowling's world.
This is perhaps cliche of me, but the old adage from first Corinthians comes to mind: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Multitudes of critics, fans and reviewers espouse upon whether or not Rowling's series is childish fantasy or grown-up fiction. Its both, of course. The childish escapism pulls you in and grabs you in the first half of the series, but come The Goblet of Fire, the gloves come off and we're in the midst of a war where suspicion, paranoia and violence are ready to burst forth at any moment, throwing Harry and his friends into danger.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows breaks from the formula of the previous books. There is no return to Hogwarts. There are no classes, homework or detentions. From the outset, Harry is on the run, trying to balance protecting himself and his friends while attempting to finish the task Dumbledore left him. The pressure is on throughout the entire book, and its a testament to Rowling's skill--and the numerous hints of multiple deaths--that you feel as if every character is in danger. I was satisfied when I closed the book. I felt as if Harry is at peace, that he's gotten all that he ever wanted and dreamed of having. As a reader, you've known from his first glance into the Mirror of Erised just what Harry's always wanted, and I could write forever about what I liked and hated and loved, but knowing Harry is happy, I can move on.
Thank you, J.K. Rowling. I can only hope that, for you, lightning will strike the same place twice.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Saturday
Last week was the end of term and along with it came the parties. I don't get off the island terribly often, so it was refreshing to head off for dinner on Thursday then again on Saturday for a BBQ.
Saturday was the best time I've had in awhile. It was a perfect Okinawan day--warm and clear--and we whiled away time before the BBQ playing Russian card games and swimming. We got the BBQ going, though Craig scorched off most of his arm hair in the process. I ended up BBQing a good portion of the time even though I frankly admitted I had no idea what I was about. But the food turned out splendid.
I spent a large amount of time talking with Craig's visiting friends from Scotland. I think it was because they were rather easy to talk with. I found myself drinking with them and some marines later that night. Nothing compares with sitting on a starry beach, listening to drums and watching native Okinawans juggle fire. Unfortunately, one of the Scotsman got a little too lost and I spent a good hour trying to keep him from running into the ocean and drowning himself. This was not something I particularly minded, seeing as I was a little gone myself, but I sobered up much faster than he did. I was quite amazed he could even stand, seeing as he'd been drinking beers all day before we sat down together with a bottle of tequila.
Saturday was the best time I've had in awhile. It was a perfect Okinawan day--warm and clear--and we whiled away time before the BBQ playing Russian card games and swimming. We got the BBQ going, though Craig scorched off most of his arm hair in the process. I ended up BBQing a good portion of the time even though I frankly admitted I had no idea what I was about. But the food turned out splendid.
I spent a large amount of time talking with Craig's visiting friends from Scotland. I think it was because they were rather easy to talk with. I found myself drinking with them and some marines later that night. Nothing compares with sitting on a starry beach, listening to drums and watching native Okinawans juggle fire. Unfortunately, one of the Scotsman got a little too lost and I spent a good hour trying to keep him from running into the ocean and drowning himself. This was not something I particularly minded, seeing as I was a little gone myself, but I sobered up much faster than he did. I was quite amazed he could even stand, seeing as he'd been drinking beers all day before we sat down together with a bottle of tequila.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Another Moment
Yamaguchi-sensei was driving the van and I was in the passenger seat. The Ie boys basketball team was in the back, talking to themselves.
"Joshua?" One of the students said suddenly.
"What?"
"I want you." He said.
"I need you." Another piped in.
"I love you." The third boy sang.
"That's the kind of talk that would get you beat up in the states," I laughed and resolved to get Elvis Presley off the noontime music rotation.
"Joshua?" One of the students said suddenly.
"What?"
"I want you." He said.
"I need you." Another piped in.
"I love you." The third boy sang.
"That's the kind of talk that would get you beat up in the states," I laughed and resolved to get Elvis Presley off the noontime music rotation.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Expectant.
Where my mood is concerned, I'm in an expectant one, looking always forward to the next day, week, month and year. Against the usual though, the next is coming faster and faster.
I'm currently 95 kilograms (209 pounds). Exercise this past week was particularly good--enjoyable too--and the goal for the 29th of July is around 92 kilograms (202 pounds). It's a maddening process, however, when I wake up everyday expectant, being mildly pleased or disappointed and then shaping my routine and diet throughout the day. I'm in a long term commitmant to reach 80 kilograms by the end of October, but I want to wake up and have it all gone, just gone. But I want it to be a permanent thing, so I force myself to take it slow, not starve myself, and exercise prudently.
Exercise yesterday was a treat. I went to the beach and helped out elementary students clean up trash. Afterwards we all went swimming and I spent about an hour and a half launching 3rd and 4th graders from my back and into the water. It's been years since I enjoyed swimming so much, almost like I was back playing in the lake with my brothers and cousins.
My walks are beginning to get into the hour and a half range themselves, and while this can be boring, the upcoming release of the next Potter book keeps me occupied. I've reread the third and fourth book and am currently on the fifth again (the fifth causes me to curse, mostly along the lines of "fucking bitch" every time Umbridge appears), so I have something to occupy my thoughts, whether it be rehashing plots in my head or putting together little moments I hadn't noticed previously. It will be good, if bitter-sweet, to finish the last book. J.K. Rowling, along with Robert Jordan, has tempered my desire never to start a long-ass series again unless it's finished already when I start. Rowling, however, comes off the better, since I don't precisely want Harry's saga to end, whereas I'd like Jordan to just finish already so I can move on with my life. Perhaps I shouldn't be so callous though, seeing as he's quite ill and there's a question if he'll even finish. The wheel weaves, I suppose.
But the ALT year, and my second year in Japan, is also at a close and I'll soon begin the last year countdown. Plans must be made. Living here for two years has made me miss theater terribly. I miss the drama and all that connotates: the practice, the performance, the squabbles, the egos. I want it back in my life. Terribly.
Before that happens, though...The exercise and weight loss is for a purpose, not just to look good naked. But you'll have to wait and see.
I'm currently 95 kilograms (209 pounds). Exercise this past week was particularly good--enjoyable too--and the goal for the 29th of July is around 92 kilograms (202 pounds). It's a maddening process, however, when I wake up everyday expectant, being mildly pleased or disappointed and then shaping my routine and diet throughout the day. I'm in a long term commitmant to reach 80 kilograms by the end of October, but I want to wake up and have it all gone, just gone. But I want it to be a permanent thing, so I force myself to take it slow, not starve myself, and exercise prudently.
Exercise yesterday was a treat. I went to the beach and helped out elementary students clean up trash. Afterwards we all went swimming and I spent about an hour and a half launching 3rd and 4th graders from my back and into the water. It's been years since I enjoyed swimming so much, almost like I was back playing in the lake with my brothers and cousins.
My walks are beginning to get into the hour and a half range themselves, and while this can be boring, the upcoming release of the next Potter book keeps me occupied. I've reread the third and fourth book and am currently on the fifth again (the fifth causes me to curse, mostly along the lines of "fucking bitch" every time Umbridge appears), so I have something to occupy my thoughts, whether it be rehashing plots in my head or putting together little moments I hadn't noticed previously. It will be good, if bitter-sweet, to finish the last book. J.K. Rowling, along with Robert Jordan, has tempered my desire never to start a long-ass series again unless it's finished already when I start. Rowling, however, comes off the better, since I don't precisely want Harry's saga to end, whereas I'd like Jordan to just finish already so I can move on with my life. Perhaps I shouldn't be so callous though, seeing as he's quite ill and there's a question if he'll even finish. The wheel weaves, I suppose.
But the ALT year, and my second year in Japan, is also at a close and I'll soon begin the last year countdown. Plans must be made. Living here for two years has made me miss theater terribly. I miss the drama and all that connotates: the practice, the performance, the squabbles, the egos. I want it back in my life. Terribly.
Before that happens, though...The exercise and weight loss is for a purpose, not just to look good naked. But you'll have to wait and see.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
The Kunigami ALTs
Just the pack of us, full after Indian food before we took off for karaoke.
Blurry David in the front doesn't seem to photograph well.
Blurry David in the front doesn't seem to photograph well.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Progress Report
For the last ten weeks I've been on an exercise routine. I exercise everyday, no fooling. It's not just weekdays, or every other day, but everyday. In those ten weeks there have been two days where I've taken breaks. Every day I do something physical, sometimes only a 30-minute walk, other times an hour walk and 30 minutes of swimming.
About the third week into this exercise program I started keeping track of my weight. On April 26 I was 105.4 kilograms (231 lbs.), but as of today I am 98 kilograms (215 lbs.). For the end of this month I'm aiming for 96 kilograms (211 lbs.).
It's been difficult this week to exercise: it's the rainy season and it's raining every day. And not just sprinkles, full-blown downpours that last for hours. The streets flood, everything gets wet, so the last few days I've been doing shorter walks when the weather clears.
But today the clouds parted and I felt like I could make the trek to the activity center's pool. It takes a half hour by foot, and I was almost there today when I heard something behind me, a distant roar. I turn to look and for the first time in my life, I see a wall of rain coming toward me. So I run, run like hell, and reach the activity center just as everything is enveloped.
But here's hoping to meet this month's goal.
About the third week into this exercise program I started keeping track of my weight. On April 26 I was 105.4 kilograms (231 lbs.), but as of today I am 98 kilograms (215 lbs.). For the end of this month I'm aiming for 96 kilograms (211 lbs.).
It's been difficult this week to exercise: it's the rainy season and it's raining every day. And not just sprinkles, full-blown downpours that last for hours. The streets flood, everything gets wet, so the last few days I've been doing shorter walks when the weather clears.
But today the clouds parted and I felt like I could make the trek to the activity center's pool. It takes a half hour by foot, and I was almost there today when I heard something behind me, a distant roar. I turn to look and for the first time in my life, I see a wall of rain coming toward me. So I run, run like hell, and reach the activity center just as everything is enveloped.
But here's hoping to meet this month's goal.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
No Updates For You, No Internets For Me
You've enjoyed a May full of updates! More than any month previous. But sadly, that frequency is at an end, at least for a couple weeks.
My laptops AC adapter blew out last night and despite my damnedest effort ("Oh my god I need to play video games now now now") to fix it, alas, to the AC adapter heaven she went.
It came at a pretty bad time. This past weekend, I played WoW with Nolan, Trevor, Jeremy and Nolan's wife Jill and had a great time doing it. We had scheduled another time for this coming weekend, but now that's not going to happen while I wait for the adapter to first go to Mom's and then be shipped to me, which will probably take 2-3 weeks.
Here's hoping it goes faster. I'll try to update when I can.
My laptops AC adapter blew out last night and despite my damnedest effort ("Oh my god I need to play video games now now now") to fix it, alas, to the AC adapter heaven she went.
It came at a pretty bad time. This past weekend, I played WoW with Nolan, Trevor, Jeremy and Nolan's wife Jill and had a great time doing it. We had scheduled another time for this coming weekend, but now that's not going to happen while I wait for the adapter to first go to Mom's and then be shipped to me, which will probably take 2-3 weeks.
Here's hoping it goes faster. I'll try to update when I can.
Friday, May 25, 2007
The Sixth Grade Problem
From first to fourth grade elementary classes, I usually cannot get the kids to be less enthusiastic about English. I show up and they're hugging me, trying to talk to me and are ready for just about anything I throw at them. Likewise, seventh through ninth graders are typically compliant and willing to do activities with me. My classes are breaks for them. We study English, of course, but my classes usually have them doing something that gets them away from the studying grind and working on communication skills.
But there's a dead zone working with the fifth and sixth graders. Right now the fifth graders are really energetic and willing to work on anything, but as they approach the sixth grade year, their interest plummets. At Ie elementary, I have little to no problem with fifth and sixth graders, but at Nishi elementary, the sixth graders are incredibly ambivalent, at least when it comes to my classes.
They're a big class, almost 40 students, and ever since I started classes with them all the way back when they were fourth graders, they've been less-than-enthusiastic, to put it lightly. When they were fifth graders the problem continued, even though they had what I thought to be an excellent teacher, and one I liked working with. Shotoro-sensei left the island at the start of the new school year and they have an all new teacher, Hisato-sensei.
Our first class of this year was on Thursday, and true to their previous behavior, I came off as the most boring teacher in the universe in the space of a minute. Now true, I'm not the best or the brightest teacher, but I had prepared for this contingency.
We warmed-up and I asked some simple questions before leading into the grammar point for the day. Their waning interest waned more and I knew it was time. I told them we were going to play a game.
I told them we were going to play baseball.
This form of baseball is a vocabulary game. The class is divided into two teams and a member from each team stands at the front of the class, looking toward the back of the room where I am standing with a stack of vocab cards. One student is the batter, the other the pitcher. I hold up a vocab card with a word in Japanese and the batter and pitcher must say the word in English. Their entire team must then repeat the vocab. If the batter and their team is correct the fastest, the batter is allowed to take a base. If the pitcher and their team prevails, it counts as an out. When someone makes it home, that's one point.
They were slow at first, and quiet. The boys took to it faster than the girls and seemed to enjoy being in direct conflict with one another, but soon the girls were responding just as well. When teams tied over a piece of vocab, the students began to bicker over who had finished first, and there were audible groans when a teammate lost it for the team with bases loaded.
Oh ho. I had them now.
We ended the game a minute before the end of the period with a tie of 3-3. We went over the vocabulary one more time (with more enthusiasm then they displayed previously) and we finished up.
I won the first battle in a war of eleven classes. Ten more to go before they become seventh graders.
But there's a dead zone working with the fifth and sixth graders. Right now the fifth graders are really energetic and willing to work on anything, but as they approach the sixth grade year, their interest plummets. At Ie elementary, I have little to no problem with fifth and sixth graders, but at Nishi elementary, the sixth graders are incredibly ambivalent, at least when it comes to my classes.
They're a big class, almost 40 students, and ever since I started classes with them all the way back when they were fourth graders, they've been less-than-enthusiastic, to put it lightly. When they were fifth graders the problem continued, even though they had what I thought to be an excellent teacher, and one I liked working with. Shotoro-sensei left the island at the start of the new school year and they have an all new teacher, Hisato-sensei.
Our first class of this year was on Thursday, and true to their previous behavior, I came off as the most boring teacher in the universe in the space of a minute. Now true, I'm not the best or the brightest teacher, but I had prepared for this contingency.
We warmed-up and I asked some simple questions before leading into the grammar point for the day. Their waning interest waned more and I knew it was time. I told them we were going to play a game.
I told them we were going to play baseball.
This form of baseball is a vocabulary game. The class is divided into two teams and a member from each team stands at the front of the class, looking toward the back of the room where I am standing with a stack of vocab cards. One student is the batter, the other the pitcher. I hold up a vocab card with a word in Japanese and the batter and pitcher must say the word in English. Their entire team must then repeat the vocab. If the batter and their team is correct the fastest, the batter is allowed to take a base. If the pitcher and their team prevails, it counts as an out. When someone makes it home, that's one point.
They were slow at first, and quiet. The boys took to it faster than the girls and seemed to enjoy being in direct conflict with one another, but soon the girls were responding just as well. When teams tied over a piece of vocab, the students began to bicker over who had finished first, and there were audible groans when a teammate lost it for the team with bases loaded.
Oh ho. I had them now.
We ended the game a minute before the end of the period with a tie of 3-3. We went over the vocabulary one more time (with more enthusiasm then they displayed previously) and we finished up.
I won the first battle in a war of eleven classes. Ten more to go before they become seventh graders.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
More Consuming
The past couple weeks I've been watching Seinfeld episodes. Hard to imagine the show ended eight years ago and I didn't appreciate it. Watching the old episodes, I can't say that there have been many other enjoyable live-action comedies in the past few years that have Seinfeld's shelf-life. Spiritually, Arrested Development is the only comparable television comedy I know of, though I know comparatively little about what's on TV. I have limited means and limited time, which means I have to be choosey.
I'm looking forward to Heroes now. The season ended and I have twenty-some episodes to watch. Even though it's on every Tuesday here, I've avoided watching since I didn't realize they were airing until midway through the season. Coming in in the middle is never a good thing, after all.
Through a bit of fortune I managed to see Shrek the 3rd, which I heartily don't recommend. I'm under no illusions that the 2nd and 3rd films were designed essentially to make money, but at least the 2nd one was funny. There's now a bad movie trifecta in play: will Pirates 3 suck as well? The summer season, except for Ratatouille and Transformers (the new trailer looks astonishing), seems like its on a downward spiral.
But so it goes. On the reading front I'm busy with The Idiot. Slow going, purely because there's so much packed into a lot of space. Looking forward to more.
I'm looking forward to Heroes now. The season ended and I have twenty-some episodes to watch. Even though it's on every Tuesday here, I've avoided watching since I didn't realize they were airing until midway through the season. Coming in in the middle is never a good thing, after all.
Through a bit of fortune I managed to see Shrek the 3rd, which I heartily don't recommend. I'm under no illusions that the 2nd and 3rd films were designed essentially to make money, but at least the 2nd one was funny. There's now a bad movie trifecta in play: will Pirates 3 suck as well? The summer season, except for Ratatouille and Transformers (the new trailer looks astonishing), seems like its on a downward spiral.
But so it goes. On the reading front I'm busy with The Idiot. Slow going, purely because there's so much packed into a lot of space. Looking forward to more.
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