15 posts tagged “book”
"That wasn't how things worked in this part of the world. You couldn't kick someone's ass and then assume they would cooperate. This wasn't the KGB. Arabs helped you because they trusted you. They would do everything for a friend and nothing for a stranger; and less than nothing for someone who treated them with disrespect."
Haruki Murakami's new novel has just been released in Japan. It's called "1Q84" (Clue for non-Japanese speakers; number 'nine' is pronounced as "Q" in Japanese). I haven't read it but it's in every bookstore now (I'm on "no more book purchase" mode right now. I have too many books pilling up unread. I'm a book junkie. I need to go through them first)
"The country you are born into is just a matter of chance; One's true home country has to be chosen by one's body and mind."
"I am not young enough to know everything."
1. Grab your nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag 5 different people.
Had he retained all twenty companies of troops that he originally had in the war plan, he said later, "I could have guarded those MSRs [main supply routes]. I don't think Jessica Lynch and the 507th Maintenance Company would have happened. I truly believe that had I had those assets, I would have had troops right behind the 3rd ID, securing the route." (from "Fiasco: The American military adventure in Iraq" written by Thomas E. Ricks)
This by the way is, according to this book, why Jessica Lynch got caught in the first place- they didn't have enough MPs to secure the route after the advance units went forward, her unit got lost and ended up in the wrong place.
Since I don't like tagging other people by name, I would dare you- that's right, you who's reading this- to try this if you feel like it (aside from GinBaby, of course, who tagged me in the first place). Then be my guest and go viral (^o^)
Oh man, Douglas Coupland's new novel "JPod" is so funny. Reading an English paperback and grinning like an idiot on the morning Yamanote line has an extra bonus- salarymen and women seem to think I could be weird or crazy person so I'd actually get some space around me. You'd have to know how precious space is on morning Yamanote line if you have seen it- or actually been on one.
I didn't realize this, but apparently there's been this renaissance going on for SF novels in the U.S. and the U.K. New generation space opera and all that. I would have to dig into this, there are several very interesting looking books out there! (^o^)
And playing EVE Online, I noticed certain things that Sci-Fi movies and games (and tv shows like Stargate) kind of "cheat", or I think are inaccurate in terms of science. I could be wrong as I've never been good with physics, math and so on, but for example, there should be no audible sound in space- so all the laser weapon making "Whew" noise when it's fired, won't actually happen in space (when mankind will actually have energy weapons and some adversaries to shoot at, that is). Also, since there's no gravity, mass doesn't count when you think your velocity, right? In that view it's not correct that Millenium Falcon can move faster than Super Star Destroyer just because it's smaller. I had some weird feeling in EVE Online when I saw a big mineral-digging vessel did quick 180 degree turn and warp away, but from that point of view it's probably more accurate than in most movies.
Maybe it's just me, but every time I see different races in universe meeting for the first time but start speaking in the same language the moment they open their mouths (always English), it feels a bit weird unless there's an explanation for that in the setting (in StarTrek, for example, you can imagine that they are actually speaking in the common language of the Federation for the ease of communication; but in Stargate: Atlantis, these Earthnoids are jumping into a different galaxy and meeting people who had absolutely nothing to do with the Earth- shouldn't there be some explanation as to why they can communicate in the same language? How could Wraith speak the language of these off-world people? I understand the production necessity, just give me a good explanation!).
Chapter 3, page 10.
In girl’s high school she found a relatively comfortable place for herself among the loosely connected group of students who loved books and movies. She also discovered the use of sex as a tool of revenge on men; she would go to the festivals of boys’ high schools near hers, look for athletic and handsome boys who seemed comfortable enough being around girls, and let them seduce her. For her, these boys had two advantages; they knew what to do in bed, and they wouldn’t go all needy and romantic, wanting to build a relationship afterwards. She was happy to see them go chasing other girls and never felt jealous to see them fooling around. It was her little payback on Japanese men in general, to use them, knowing full well they were too stupid to realize they were being taken advantage of.
This
Friday afternoon five years ago would find Junko coming out of a university
classroom, not making any effort to kill her yawn. The nap she had enjoyed
during the boring lecture was still hanging loose around her head. It was one
of those classes that the students all took because their Sempais had told them
that you could get the credit basically for just showing up. The senior
students also relayed the information that the professor- a thin, elderly
gentleman who manner of speech was so hypnotizing everyone was put to sleep
inside of ten minutes since he started to talk- had amiable habit of informing
the content of his final exam to the class two weeks in advance. You’d have to
be a first-degree fool to fail in such an exam.
Chapter 1, page 6.
His look chases her reflections away, brings her back to reality and makes her aware of her body, her physical presence. She knows she’s not too bad to look at now, thanks partly to David’s repeated compliments. That’s one thing she particularly liked about him, unlike spiteful Japanese guys he was always full of compliments about her. She even turned heads when she was one of those “native” girls those guys were trying to pick up.
Now I can go to a club and dance all night if I want to. The thought seems too crazy and outrageous to her, but really, there’s no one at home waiting for her to prepare food and medication, or to handle his bedpan. Her father won’t be yelling at her anymore, accusing her of not taking care of him like a good, obedient and above all unmarried daughter should be. An image flashes from her memory, and makes her wince a little. She tries not to repeat a line she kept telling herself during all these years; I’m too young to see and know all this.
She suddenly feels the urge to open up her passport, to confirm to herself the fact that she’s not even thirty yet. There, her name, Junko Takayama, date of birth, and the picture of a young, innocent stranger staring up at her with a slightest hint of a smile on her lips.
She
remembers she almost threw away the photograph as a failed attempt because of
that smile. She was trying to conform to the requirement of the Japanese
government about your passport photo- you have to keep up a serious face, get
rid of the glasses and not to have too much hair coming down on your forehead
to obscure your feature. What saved the picture was the fact she really wasn’t smiling
in it- and after the flash popped she was laughing so hard to try another shot,
and anyhow the time was pressing for the movie and they had to run, David and
she.
Chapter 1, page 5.
A cane comes into her view, and then a frail figure of a thin old man distracts her from her own thoughts. An old man stops for a second, looks around, and decides the closest place to sit down is the other end of the bench she’s sitting. He puts down a leather shoulder bag- quite antiquated but well taken care of- and thumps himself down with a sigh. He studies the type Otaku for a moment, raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, and sighs again. She looks away as he repositions himself to make himself comfortable.
Giving the crowd another sweeping look, she finds a vague, distant amusement in wondering if they take everything they do seriously. They probably do, for how else would they go through their lives, all those absurdities in them? Even if all that won’t mean a thing in the end, you have to live, and to live means filling up the hours you are given with activities. Doing nothing and getting bored counts as well. It’s an activity, a way to pass the time. To wait for death to come around and knock on your door. If you sit really still and pay attention, you might actually hear its gentle footsteps, coming closer to you, one step each day. It may be just around the corner, adopting the form of a drunken and overworked truck driver. It may be waiting for you down the line, in the cancer ward, shrouding itself with the smell of painkiller and the cry of desperation too loud to hear with human ears.
From the corner of her eyes she sees one of the Western businessmen- the ugliest one, of course- is looking at her in a manner she knows and dislikes. She wonders if he’s scored any Japanese girl in Roppongi during his stay. Hopefully not, he should get bigger pants and be comfortable instead of trying to tie down his beer belly with his belt. It’s not good for his health. Besides, does he really think that’ll fool women?
