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September 15th, 2005
04:49 pm
Dear Natsume San,
I understand your conflict. In contemporary America our predicament is a bit different. While Japan in post-Restoration struggled with a vacuum of moral values, it at least had a point of reference from which to posit its decadence. I don't know how much you see it, but in many ways Japan is still expressing its vacuousness in terms of nostalgic, classical morality.
Contemporary society in America exists in multiple levels of post-ness. We are post-war, post-civil rights, post-Viet Nam,post-1960's, post-Nixon, post-cold war, post-9/11, and recently post-Katrina. Americans look for the most recent and prevalent event for which defines their modernity. Perhaps it is an alternative response to a similar problem you face in Japan.
Contemporary American culture, perhaps even more than some of its ultra-capitalist equivalents, is saturated with information. The rhetoric of American individualism propagates the desire for novelty and uniqueness in the wake of creative novelty and uniqueness. Once information is published, printed, or prostituted, it is old. In a sense, unless it hasn't happened yet, it's out of date.
The word "morality" is a bit uneasy for us. It connotes a religious past that is manifested in a touchy present and it struggles to find its way into intellectual, scientific, and often, political dialogue. Calling something a "moral" issue immediately nullifies it as a NON-issue. "Ethics" sounds a bit softer on contemporary ears because it hearkens to individual preferences. Ethics has less to do with social morality than it has to do with individual aesthetic taste. Everyone should have an ethics we believe.
Your work operated under conflicts of morality and people loved them. Morality doesn't capture public attention here. There are too many moralities, and we are familiar with too many exceptions. Morality has become a conventional stimulus for disgust. We are not exactly sure why we are disgusted by the word anymore, but we know we should be.
The truth is, your stories still make sense to us and their nostalgic tones inspire dormant musings of true creativity. Whether we have "conventionally" done away with moral crises in the contemporary, they still challenge us. With excessive moralities, conflict is made negligent by liberal pluralism. I don't have to engage with someone's morality, because in a liberal plural society we form niches, imaginary spaces of integrated constitution where things can once again make sense. This disconnect with my fellow moral thinkers--or inversely, my engagement with multiple groups of them, stifles my creativity.
In short, I need something tangible to create with. I need some clay to pound on, some sticks to direct the flow of the river, or some chimes to hang in the wind to hear with.
I'm so curious. What would you find to struggle against today? Thought you have never needed a resolution, your medium was crisis. What could you do with infinite crises, negligible conflicts, and multiple moralities?
D.W.
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September 11th, 2005
06:12 pm
Dear United Nations:
In class the other day the topic of Iraq came up for a brief moment, though I forget in what context. In a passing comment my professor mentioned the “Oil for Children Program.” I assume that he meant the “Oil for Food Program,” but nonetheless, the idea stimulated some interesting thoughts.
I wonder under what circumstances the United Nations would stand to benefit from sending children of various participating countries to Iraq in exchange for oil. Since I don’t think children can be physically made into oil, I assume children would constitute a new commodity of trade. But what could Iraq do with so many children? The most practical idea I can think of is to put all those children into serious soccer concentration camps where the best children would be trained, much like Russian gymnasts, into being professional-caliber soccer players. How else would Iraq stand up to mighty European and South American soccer teams in the World Cup? In fact, given the poor record of the American men’s national soccer team, we too could benefit from such a program. Maybe we could trade “freedom fries” and “freedom toast” to France for promising young soccer players.
In short, though I was unsure of what the “Oil for Children” program was, if it can in any way strengthen the soccer teams of either Iraq or America, I commit my full support.
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September 9th, 2005
01:13 pm
Mr. Owl,
I wonder if someone were to dedicate their lives to the study of Heian Court poetry of the 8th and 9th centuries Japan for example, would they have unique, hidden virtues or talents that may be of some use today? Would they be the perfect person to toss a salad perhpas? Or maybe, as a connection gone unnoticed by scientists, could they be just the person for understanding the mating rituals of Antarctic penguins?
I truly believe people should study Heian Court poetry, but I'm not sure if I should. I believe I am being naively optimistic about there being hidden benefits to the hours I spend on classical Japanese each day. Because, to be honest, I would much rather study the mating rituals of penguins right now than I would Japanese poetry. Oh well, what can I do?
Haiku:
Penguins are my friend
I think so because of this
We both like fish
Tanka:
Noble penguins dance
Caligraphy, tea, painting
Penguin samurai
Noble virtues set on ice
sushi chefs in paradise
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August 31st, 2005
02:29 pm
Dr. Kramer,
These Hollow Men live in apartment complexes, some tall, some short and rectangular, but most all of them have doors a little too small and cramped kitchens. From the street the windows their apartments light up briefly at night, pretty late at night. I see them like a ------ game in a Las Vegas casino. The men have straight faces, dry eyes, and often dress rather proper. Their actions are indistinguishable from each other. That is, their movements and sounds are routine and predictable.
Their kitchens are small because they don't eat much. In fact, it may be more accurate to see that food eats them. Ramen is the most deadly of foods. The styrofoam bowl empties itself to hold the remaining memories of the Hollow Men mix with oily soup and mono-sodium glutamate preserved forever in garbage heaps where broken pieces of people are too isolated to move. The plastic packaging sounds like large white hospital hallways with freshly painted walls, sterilized floors, and fluorescent lights.
Hollow Men suck the sound out of TVs, radios, and passersby. They swallow sound and mark its death, but taste nothing. They laugh, and sometimes smile; they are never angry. Some have quite a bit of sex and some have never touched a woman. They don't sleep in, they are seldom late, they have lots of possessions, but they never decorate their walls.
These Hollow Men fascinate me. They also haunt me and so I want to tell you about them. I have affection for them and I want to get close and communicate with them, but I'm not an eloquent speaker and I feel self-conscious around them.
Do you know these men?
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August 18th, 2005
11:27 pm
Honu-Sama (Hawaii's Green Sea Turtle)
Today I swam with your kind. It was a beautiful experience and I thought of how to code the memory to make it mean something. I thought of poems, and songs, and even the existential blanks purity of experience itself. But I realized, both poems and songs about animals are gay, and anything existential has no identifiable marker that prevents it from getting lost in the vast network of my primitive neuronal synapses.
So instead I'll just write you an email and tell you that and I'm thinking about you.
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11:19 pm
The Citadel,
What motivates one to post on their refrigerator a sign warning their peers to "Never, Ever" open her refrigerator door? Is it necessary to have posted in open air, in our public space, grave warnings to those so inclined to go into other peoples' refrigerators? If someone is inclined enough to take their food, your sign will not stop them. Your fortress can defend itself on the assumption of fear alone. And not only is your food just as prone to theft, if not more so, than it always has, you have now isolated yourself from others making it perfectly clear that you are an island unto yourself capable of the most refined of contemporary--and internationally civilized, defense systems.
Never before have I had such a desire to take someone's things until I was strictly warned about the consequences. I suppose I must thank you for planting the seed of inclination in my head.
P.S.
I hope their is more than kim chi in your refrigerator right now because I'm taking the lot, and their better be something I like.
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July 17th, 2005
11:57 am
Dear Team Korea,
Your starting members performed spectacularly. And I give the sixth-man award the backup point guard. Your center's play was questionable at times but seemed to be popular with the crowd. Good luck in your next bout and have a safe return back home.
TT
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June 17th, 2005
12:57 am
Hey everyone,
Long time since I emailed anyone. I guess I had to wait until I actually felt something prompting a response. Ok, I see it now. It seems like sometihng vaguely resembling a physical feeling. Yeah, it's getting clearer now... I'm fucking mad.
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March 14th, 2005
01:58 pm
Dear Stephen LaBerge,
I was wondering if you did any research on the ethics of sleep. I find myself charted inversely wherein less sleep = greater self-esteem. I myself often brag of how little I sleep (while I hide my naps in silence). Hotels, volleyball, kayaks, karaeoke, one dollar mai tais, Japanese, Japanese, I FORGOT my Japanese. Anthropology...
I pray my lists, shrouded in Futabatei's drifting cloud on my midterm, express aesthetic sense. But I'm really just too tired to think. Look how tired I am!!
I feel better.
Thanks Doctor,
D White
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February 21st, 2005
10:22 pm
Dear Verizon Wireless Representative,
I must be honest with you, I don't know if you were making fun of an innocent customer on the line tonight or you were tragically lonely. I called about the poor reception that I had been experiencing all day--in fact, I couldn't even make a phone call or check my messages. I called with this problem and after a Verizon of formalities you suggested I take out the battery and replace it. As soon as you mentioned the battery I knew that I should have thought about that myself. I felt stupid and indeed, the phone worked fine after I replaced the battery.
You then went into an extended diatribe about the reasons my phone would require the battery to be taken out and replaced. It all sounded very technical and you carried on for quite a while. I thought that you must be an amazing representative for Verizon and that they should feel proud to have you. There was however a small thought in my mind that you were explaining all these things to me in a patronizing manner because I was too stupid to think about replacing the battery.
Now that I reflect on it though, I believe your intentions were pure. Mine however, were not; I should have told you the real reason the phone wasn't working was the bucket of sand I found underneath the battery.
Thanks for your help!
Your indebted Verizon customer complaint NO 9847658374837.4
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February 4th, 2005
12:10 am
Matthias,
You want to bridge East and West in shallow bar-talk or romantic TV drama? Must every relationship start with "what do I have to lose" as impetus, as lust? I'm thrown into vats where liquids mix and stir emotion; fatalistic alchemy. Reconstructed prophecy. I am Safeway cookies, light beer, memories of mother, pure desire...and samurai honor.
For tomorrow my life depends on bridging small talk, J-Pop, and unfair expectations: I am intervention.
...
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January 26th, 2005
06:42 pm
Dear Sergei,
Why am I you in this picture? Quit stealing my glory--and the only thing that gives my life meaning.
http://www.ruf.rice.edu/~ims/2004-2005/CHAMPIONS/svb.htm
In the words of B Bucklen, "I'm out like a fat kid in dodgeball"
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January 25th, 2005
04:19 pm
Loco Cuisine,
For your consideration:
Loco Moco sunk me like a brick with a side kick in the gut of macaroni salad. There's no chance of going up against such a formidable opponent. Rice, hamburger, egg, gravy, they are stacked across the board with little complimentary acknowledgment. The four horsemen compete with each other as much as with the subject, but ultimately the result is the same and they march slowly over the victim in a deep and heavy wave; there's no escape from this loco cuisine.
Anonymous
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January 23rd, 2005
12:24 am
Abe Kobo san,
I'm no box man but I have decided to live in a box. It will be 8x8x8. I'm going to commit myself to one year of it so I can call my new one bedroom apartment a mansion and throw Great Gatsby parties with Martinis.
Do come,
dan yori
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January 22nd, 2005
04:28 pm
To my "gay" friends who like the Olive Garden,
I've seen no rivers. Only the following:
A tase of Chicago, a taste of Wheaton, a tase of Glen Ellyn.
Temples and mountains and grid paper with text.
Olive Garden, Old Navy, Bed Bath and Beyond. The Ocean. Olive Garden, Old Navy, Bed Bath and Beyond.
Concrete, concrete, concrete, concrete, brown rectangles, concrete.
Olive Garden, Old Navy, Bed Bath and Beyond. Giant metal sheets and pot holes. Olive Garden, Old Navy,
SUPER TARGET!
Poppycock culture.
identity and homogeneity do not reinforce each other in poppycock culture.
--cause I'm kool like dat
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January 18th, 2005
12:48 am
U. Sinclair,
We know each other by place. We know Chicago and California. The contemporary is new to both of us in different mediums: to me in virtual reality, to you in virtual text.
I have A utopia. It is a dialectic process of wonder and longing. Or it is an obsessive-compulsive mental twitch. I long to be at once other and familiar. Utopia is elsewhere and content is always in the future tense. Perhaps if you combine the two you get that strange tense exemplified by, "It will have been." Fate is always forthcoming, but yet, I recognize its permanence as already decided. Kimatteru!
Lately I dream of Japan. No, not really. I dream of this: A school, a pick-up truck fit for radishes, a boat fit for fish, a surf, a wooden house not-yet-a-home with a freshly-sanded porch running the entire perimeter. A wife and a child would presumably teach me selflessness. A job with a purpose would presumably bestow upon me pride. A temple might give grace or compassion. A love might give me strength. Summer would bring joy, winter-deference, fall-anxiety, spring-nostalgia. Time would make me humble, weary. Familiar neighbors would be a source of life. Death would bring me purpose.
Someday, I will forget about me and be content. Utopia is other and I am constantly familiar.
In Utopia will I converse with the living? Will they write back? I think they need to.
In love,
D W
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January 9th, 2005
04:51 pm
Taro Brand Bakery,
I like your rolls because they are the color of mold. I can hardly finish a bag of rolls myself, but your's seem to last longer.
Thank you,
Dan W
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04:49 pm
Dear Erik who can speak Swedish fluently,
I wanted to tell you that I think you are incredible efficient with communication. From you I have learned that a simple smile, nod, or shake of the head (sometimes with the eyes closed for emphasis), can express enouogh, if not more than words, words ,words can.
Your friend,
Dan
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January 8th, 2005
12:55 am
Dear Bernadine, Marion, Hiro, Dana, Kaleb, and Yalia, and Scott
Wow, thanks for an incredible introduction to McGoo's and Hawaii. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and my move but tonight introduced some security and first comfort. The night was completely dependent upon my line, "Hey, do you two girls mind if I join you for a minute or two while I wait for my friends from my department to arrive?" At this point I forget whether that line was true or not. I swear it was true; I can't imagine me making something like that up, and then having the courage to go through with it.
It turned out to be an awesome night. I met you all from differenct places (Hawaii, Minnesota, L.A., Japan, Norway..), and I never had such a warm introduction. I truly hope to see you all again but I recognize the aesthetic confines of happenstance.
I wish you all the best, thank you for your kindness, your concern (and for your kisses), and I hope to jump into this new life from the start and give it some substance from ground zero. once again.
Dan White
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January 4th, 2005
03:40 am
Dear Weather.com
Reporting from Waikiki:
Weather is warm, around 76 degrees. However, the Waikiki city factor makes it feel roughly the temperature of warm shio ramen. Apparently very little BBQ pollution on this side of the island. Little chance of precipitation, but hot curry sweats may reach a few milimeters. The weekend may see some strawberry frost in Haleiwa; chickens may be roasting near hot paved blacktop.
I'll report back after several sugar plums; right now I'm counting lamb chops.
From the field: Dan
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