Woke Venus de Milo

It was a tense few hours yesterday at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It wasn’t a large crowd that had gathered — 50 or 60 — but they were focused, angry, and determined to right a grotesque situation which one angry protester said “had gone on way too long.”

The object of their derision and evident nausea was the marble rendering of Venus de Milo by Alexandros of Antioch, a Greek sculptor of the Hellenistic Age.

The incensed mob, wielding ropes, pick axes, and sledgehammers fought their way past the security guards attempting to block the entrance doors, then rushed at the offending sculpture. Had not the museum’s director intervened, no question that this masterpiece, which had graced the lobby for several decades, would within minutes have been turned into a pile of over-priced gravel.

A spokesperson who might have just arrived from an Insane Clown Posse concert or an Extinction Rebellion rally shouted through a bullhorn.

“How can you have such a disgusting symbol of primitive values in full sight of not just undeserving adults but the thousands of children who come here? It’s exploitative, gender rigid, misogynistic, insensitive — just plain WRONG, WRONG, WRONG on every level. How many innocent boys have been turned into haters and rapists by this sexualized carving, this symbol of moral anarchy, this overt enticement to erotic anarchy? How many young girls been body-shamed and driven to suicide by its faux submission to modesty and subliminal glorification of coquetry?”

Without having any clue what the leader of the woke mob was saying, Max Hollein, current Appointed Director of the Met, managed to calm the irate protesters down, and convince the grumbling, weeping, giggling, frantic, but mostly neutered protestors that something could be worked out, a compromise was possible. No way was Mr. Hollein going to stand by while such a masterpiece was turned into rubble.

The world-renowned museum was closed for three days. Behind the locked doors, the woke protesters went to work. There was understandably a lot of back-and-forth between the woke crowd and the staff who ignorantly still embraced a traditional world view, but eventually compromises were made, the museum re-opened, and visitors hungry for the enrichment of great art were able to fully enjoy an “acceptable”, fully PC-friendly version of the disputed sculpture, one which was pan-gender sensitive and fully inclusive.

As one of the protesters promoting the transformation of society to a higher state of woke consciousness said: “My gender is neutrois and my pronouns are xe, xem xyr. Xe think this is great! We are one step closer to a world which makes sense for everybody, not just some lascivious old white men.”

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Woke Venus de Milo | John Rachel

Can you say p – p – p – p – poetry?

Alright . . . it’s not Elle or Guns & Ammo or The Atlantic. But it’s a real magazine and it’s out of San Antonio, Texas. A POETRY MAGAZINE!

Let’s face it. You won’t find the big bucks in poetry. So you can’t expect a four-color cover and glossy 80# photo stock, printed in one of the world-class print houses in Italy. Or ads for it during the half-time show at the Superbowl.

Lone Stars Magazine. Texas is the “Lone Star State”. Get it? And notice this is Issue #97. Meaning they’ve been at this for a while. This is not some impulse dreamed up between a rodeo and a local paint ball war games tournament.

So . . . why am I bringing any of this up?

Well . . . I’m darn proud to say that a recent poem of mine got published in this particular issue. A miracle if there ever was one!

I’ve made it clear in the past — if anyone was paying attention — I’m not a poet, I’ve never wanted to be a poet, any resemblance between my attempts at poetry and actual poetry is purely coincidental. But for some reason, these poetry magazines seem to think I’m the real deal. Who am I to argue?

I even wrote a satirical piece, making fun of poetry and the whole process of writing it:

CREATIVITY: WRITING POETRY

There’s at least one person who thinks it’s hilarious. (That would be me.)

Let me cut with the false humility, stop being such an arrogant butt plug, and attempt to painlessly explain the situation.

Lone Stars published three of my other poems over the past couple years but this was a particularly juicy assignment and I couldn’t resist.

Contributors to Issue #97 were supposed to write a poem about what a poet is. So I did!

There you have it. Clever? Interesting? Probably not.

Maybe I should light fires in the forest?

Juggle tofu with my tongue?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Can you say p – p – p – p – poetry? | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Police Power IV

The police here in Tambasasayama at work!

Yes, here we have another example of hard-core law enforcement here in my hometown.

Pictured is a local police officer and his wife. They’ve taken it upon themselves to make an Amabie doll for their Koban — their local community police station — and extend an open invitation to everyone in the neighborhood to stop by.

While much of the world appears to be reeling from Covid-19, with piles of bodies filling the streets and morgues in cities across the globe, life is pretty normal here. We do have a declared “state of emergency”, meaning some events have been canceled, a few restaurants are closed. But honestly, other than not being able to travel internationally, my life is quite normal. Deaths in Japan are not up from previous years. In fact, overall they are down!

What’s Japan’s secret?

Well, I’m not a medical expert nor am I here to give medical advice and risk the wrath of the WHO, Facebook, Dr. Anthony Fauci, and the CDC. If I get censored, the six people who normally would read this article won’t see it. That would be a tragedy of epic proportions. So I’m just reporting what’s happening here on the ground.

The Amabie. Woodblock print, late Edo period, dated Kōka 3 (1846).

Back to Amabie.

From Wikipedia: “Amabie (アマビエ) is a legendary Japanese mermaid or merman with a bird-beak like mouth and three legs or tail-fins, who allegedly emerges from the sea, prophesies either an abundant harvest or an epidemic, and instructed people to make copies of its likeness to defend against illness.”

You caught that last sentence?

“To defend against illness.”

Fact: We’ve had few people sick with Covid-19 here in Tambasasayama and no deaths!

You can’t argue with results. AMABIE!

While people in the U.S. are arguing about the effectiveness of Hydroxychloroquine and Ivermectin, ramping up to get everyone vaccinated — including now even kids — we have here a police officer making available to those visiting his Koban, a handmade doll based on a mythical mermaid, because legend has it that Amabie is the key to staying healthy.

But wait . . . what has this got to do with police work?

The short answer is nothing. But frankly, he’s not exactly busy. A crime wave here is a person parking their motorbike on the sidewalk. Even that doesn’t happen very often.

Being a news junkie of sorts and a U.S. citizen, I try to keep up with what’s going on in the homeland. I can’t say it’s encouraging or inspiring. Putting aside the circus/nightmare of the politics there; the appalling health care crisis exacerbated by the complete failure in properly handling Covid-19; the censorship and childish level of what is tolerated, even lauded, as debate and discussion of important issues; America’s compulsive meddling in the affairs of everyone else on Earth, while the U.S. itself falls apart; there’s the frightening rise of what can only be called a police state. Thus when I scan the headlines, I’m treated to a seemingly endless parade of stories about police harassing, beating, and shooting people, everyday citizens many unarmed, most of them with skin of the darker shades. It’s truly sickening and though I’m not one to easily succumb to paranoia, I can honestly say I have no desire to return in the foreseeable future just to see how good I am at dodging bullets or how well I handle pepper spray, zip ties, or being assaulted by thugs in or out of uniform.

It’s hard to exaggerate the contrast of what looks like the horror show of police brutality in the U.S. with what life is like here. But I’ve tried to capture it in a few stories. I wrote Police Power III back in March of this year.

Police Power I and Police Power II are part of my collection of 63 anecdotes about life in the REAL JAPAN for me as an expat. It’s getting fantastic reviews and I believe it will put a lot of smiles out into the world, as well as valuable insights into this fascinating country. Available across the globe for the asking, you are welcome to visit the dedicated page on my author website and get a copy from the online bookstore of your choice.

An interesting side note to close on: There are quite a few Koban here in town. By sheer coincidence, the Koban featured in the article pictured at the top happens to be one that I wrote about in my book. It’s right in front of the yurt where I used to teach English. Here’s what this police officer’s office/home looks like front and back.

That’s about it. Not very exciting, eh? But I’ll keep you posted if there are any shoot-outs, gang battles, drive-by killings, riots, or if some hardened criminal parks his motor scooter on the sidewalk.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: Police Power IV | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Vending Machines

It’s always overwhelming to arrive in a new country, especially if the culture is completely different than what you’re familiar with. Certainly coming to Japan in July 2007 was that way for me, even though I’d already made some stops in Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and China, and at least had been introduced to the “East”.

The first few days are pure overload. There’s so much to take in, you’re not sure what to look at or even what you’re seeing. You’re distracted by just trying to function, trying to communicate in an unfamiliar tongue, trying to pantomime and fake your way from one scene to the next, hope upon hope you’re not offending someone.

Slowly, one-by-one, things begin to come into focus.

I distinctly remember the first thing that caught me somewhat baffled eye here in Japan.

Vending machines!

They seemed to be everywhere, often in places I certainly didn’t expect to see them. Like out in the open on the side of a busy road!

Of course, everything is convenient here. If I’m not mistaken, Japan invented the コンビニ — the convenience store.

What could be more convenient than being able to pull your car over just about anywhere, pull out some coins and buy . . . buy what your heart desires! As you can see from the pic at the top, there are vending machines for snacks, cakes and sweets, tofu, ramen, noodles, even strawberries.

And as I pointed out back in March, my wife Masumi discovered a vending machine for . . . OYSTERS! I personally have never had a craving for oysters in the middle of the night, but if I ever do I’ll just go look for the nearest oyster vending machine and start slurping.

By the way, I’ve also seen vending machines for beer and other alcoholic drinks. Since Japan has such strict drug laws, I’m not expecting to see any for marijuana anytime soon. Maybe they have those in Amsterdam.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: Vending Machines | John Rachel