Spartacus is Agamemnon

Not that this has to do with anything, but I always thought Kirk Douglas bore a striking resemblance to the so-called "Mask of Agamemnon".

One of the last remaining Hollywood legends.

After the Great Quake of 2011

It’s been three weeks since the quake of March 11th  and the ensuing crisis. I learned a lot about how our minds are easily manipulated by the media. A famous Buddhist monk said our minds are unreliable. “Be the master of your mind, do not let the mind master you,” it says in the Gosho. So true, so true. Now at our company we are on this weird 9 to 5 schedule, and people aren’t sure what to do with all their newfound free time. Of course for me, I can chant more, exercise on the bike, meet people… but still, the ancient desires haven’t faded, the old yearnings, that gnawing feeling of wanting what’s on the other side of the fence.  Is it all an illusion? I know that it probably is—that is, my unreliable mind knows it is. But something within me is still seeking it.

“Think of the people who have lost everything—their relatives, friends, loved ones, their homes,” says the internal voice. “What do you have to complain about? You’ve been completely unscathed by this disaster. You are one of the very lucky ones. You don’t even have to commute or lose electricity for a few hours every day. And all you are thinking about is your own petty desires?”

But that is a function of a low life state, the Buddhists say. Low life condition leads to all sorts of selfishness. Some people shine in a time of crisis—helping others, acting for the sake of the general good, full-on 24/7. Others fester, become defeated by their “weaker selves.”  But the higher mind knows all that. Of course we can all strive to be better people…but is there a breaking point, a time to allow ourselves the luxury to be a little selfish? 

Anyway, people are free to act as they please as long as they don’t hurt others. That is a basic rule of behavior in Japan. Or anywhere, really. However, this sense I am getting of people “looking down on others” for taking certain actions—not volunteering, not contributing enough, not spending time for others—that arrogance is what really got to me more than the fear of radiation from the Fukushima nuclear plant: people imposing their self-righteousness in a time of crisis. And the people who left town…well, they have their own reasons. To be judging them as “traitors” or “undignified” is totally outrageous and destructive. Who are we to judge who is noble...and who is not? Well, some of those doing the judging might be thinking, “Good riddance. Nobody asked you to come here in the first place. Go home to your own kind. We don’t need you.” That attitude exists everywhere in the world.

To the long-term foreigner in Japan, one can either decide they are a guest in this country who can leave at the drop of a nuclear hat or to call it home and be part of the community—and hopefully help that community become better than it was before. I think for those with deep connections to groups in the society (and let’s face it, Japan more than anywhere else, is all about belonging to one or more of an endless number of groups), it was hard to just take a vacation to Bali when the whole eastern part of the nation was trying to pull together.  But for most Japanese in Tokyo, that idea would never occur to them.  Japan is their home—and the receptacle of their ancestors' bones far back into antiquity.  It would be like leaving the earth if an asteroid were approaching. Where could you go to escape? The moon? Or Osaka for that matter? And suffer the wrath of a foreign accented tribe for deserting your own tribe?

No, the TV commercials have been adamant on this point. “Japan is a strong country. I believe that. Let’s fight together. We are not alone. We are all part of a team.”  Well, a similar thing happened in the U.S. after 9/11 (and the irony is that the Great East Japan Quake of 2011 happened on "3/11", as the pundits are already calling it).  American flags popped up everywhere—on cars, bicycles, front lawns. If you didn’t display one, you were suspect. Thankfully, that kind of symbolism hasn’t shown itself in Japan, but the obligation of feeling national pride is being forced upon people from various media. A few days after one of the reactors exploded, I saw a large group of girls practicing a dance routine in a park to “cheer up” Japan. The cheerfulness was scary. “Don’t you know what’s going on?” I thought. “Aren’t you afraid?” Actually, for them, the answer was “no” to both questions.

So here we are on the verge of the cherry blossom viewing season, and life seems to be getting back to normal. Can we ever go back to life the way it was before the quake? Have we changed fundamentally for having ridden out the storm and become a little wiser and compassionate?  It’s too early to tell. Yes, we have learned that “great good follows great evil.” But one thing is certain: great change can’t happen overnight. We are moving forward toward some sort of recovery--economically, mentally, physically, spiritually--but only one day at a time. You can't do any better than that. So, after the longest winter I’ve ever lived through, spring has finally come. As promised.

Speed Racer finally hits the Big Screen

OK, here’s my review. Three stars (out of five). It’s not that Speed Racer is an unwatchable movie—it’s just that the neon eye candy feels like it’s taken directly from the Star Wars prequels. The greenscreen vistas look very similar to Coruscant’s cityscapes and the pod race on the desert planet Tatooine, only with no depth of field and more two-dimensional. You wouldn’t be surprised to see Jar Jar Binks hanging out with Chim-Chim here. The race cars glide and shuffle around a videogame racetrack in a reality without any friction or mass, it seems. But if you can accept this  bubblegum technocolor world on its own terms, there is some good story telling here: we have an intriguing plot that expands on the original anime’s backstory of Racer X (the filmmakers wisely decided to make his body suit all-black instead of white with a big red “M” across his chest, as in the original cartoon—duh, kind of looks like the hood of the Mach 5, doesn’t it?—not a good way to hide your secret identity as the presumed-dead elder brother of the Racer clan). And, for those who aren’t in the know, that “M” stands for “Mifune,” the original Japanese surname of Pops Racer, founder of Mifune Motors.

Rather than opting for the obvious mindless rollercoaster summer entertainment, the Wachowski brothers have added a simple yet compelling message: keep driving for your dreams. OK, not exactly original. So what? Our young hero is faced with the dilemma of giving up the rights to a small-company to a corporate goliath. Which will he choose? Guaranteed riches under the automobile world’s evil empire or keeping the family-owned business intact and enjoying Mom Racer’s pancakes until he finally gets hitched to his comely girlfriend Trixie?  How did an after-school cartoon get this political and deep?

Well, in case you couldn’t guess, Speed doesn’t choose the former. But first he has to show off his kung fu skills on some lame ninjas with Pops (John Goodman as Pops makes a pun in Japanese that had the audience chuckling) doing his de rigeur helicopter spin toss. But why is Speed’s fixer-upper buddy Sparky speaking with an Australian accent? Why couldn’t they have picked a cuter kid for Spritle? The real monkey who plays Chim-Chim can act pretty well and delivers his reactions right on cue. Rex Racer has the right body build and tone of voice; Matthew Fox nails it and clearly knows the original cartoon series from the early 70s. Susan Sarandon tries to make Mom Racer into more than a cardboard cut-out character, but is there any reason to? How can you not cringe when she says to Speed, “I’m just so proud to be your Mom”?

In the end, of course, Speed wins the big race, which comes a little too late in the film, on the heels of the previous one. With his aggressive driving he proves, as the song goes, that he’s a demon on wheels. The well-known theme music rises to glorious symphonic heights. Speed Racer has finally been done in live action (of a sort), and actually it has been done quite well. It could have been a lot worse. I’ll probably get the DVD for repeated viewings.

The First Dutch American President

With all the innuendo about Obama being “foreign” and too exotic for America, it’s interesting to note that the United States has a long history of selecting Presidents from outside the so-called mainstream. America’s eighth President, Martin Van Buren, was the first Dutch American President. Actually, his first language wasn’t even English; he grew up speaking Dutch. I have an affinity for the name of Van Buren since I spent my childhood in a house on Van Buren Street in San Mateo, California. I still remember the address. One of my best friends was also named Martin, so somehow the name Martin Van Buren sticks in my memory, even though I knew nothing about the man. Looking at Wikipedia, however, I can say we owe a lot to Van Buren. He played a leading role in forming the early Democratic Party. Ironically his name was linked to a man named DeWitt Clinton, and according to Wikipedia “He allied himself with the Clintonian faction of the Democratic-Republican Party,” Coincidentally DeWitt Clinton was a Senator and Governor of New York. Strange how those names keep popping up in history. Van Buren’s nickname was “Old Kinderhook” since he was born in Kinderhook, New York. According to one theory, this is where we get our ubiquitous word “O.K.”  It was originally Van Buren’s stamp of approval. OK, believe what you want to believe. If Barack Obama does manage to become president, however, I doubt that “B.O.” would go over well with the public.

The Big Tent

OK, so by now everyone has posted a blog entry about Obama’s finally wrapping up the Democratic nomination. It was an inevitable moment, but somehow it has been framed as news, as a historic moment in American history. Well, yes and no. If Arnold Schwartzenegger can be Governor of California, why people are surprised when Obama gets the Democratic nomination? It has been a long time coming, and it’s about time. So why did he win, and not Hillary? I don’t live in the U.S. anymore so my take on things is probably a bit warped, but I think part of the reason is language. If you listen to his speeches, it’s always about “Us,” “We,” and “Ours.” If you listen to Hillary’s speeches, it’s all me, me, me. I don’t think that’s a trivial difference. Rhetoric moves people to action. Words do matter because words have power. We’ve heard Obama’s detractors say that he’s all talk but no action, but people were saying that about Ronald Reagan, and now history has somehow deemed him the Great Communicator and the Man Who Collapsed the Soviet Union (I think Mikhail Gorbachev would beg to differ). Although those of us who lived through the Reagan era remember all the homeless and the culture of greed spawned by the “Wall Street” era, I will give Reagan his due in getting the nation beyond the malaise of the Carter years, primarily by his use of language. He projected optimism and confidence, primarily through his voice.  This was what the country needed at the time. This is why “Raiders of the Lost Ark” was made in the 1980s. Here you had B-movie actor from the 1950s running the most powerful nation on Earth. People were looking for Indy Jones to save the day.  And Reagan delivered by playing the role to the hilt. He was of his time. Barack Obama may not be the most experienced candidate to run for President, but he is of his time, just as the Beatles were of their time, the 1960s. This is a new time. Let a new chapter begin. That’s what people want.