"Fruity, with overtones of Welch's, red Kool Aid and malt vinager. A delightfully pink wine that fits nicely into the paper bag and goes well with pork rinds"

I didn't write this, but I felt I had to pass it along. Any additions to the list would be welcome.

Some Walmart customers soon will be able to sample a new discount item -- Walmart's own brand of wine. The world's largest retail chain is teaming up with E&J Gallo Winery of Modesto, Calif., to produce the spirits at an affordable price, in the $2-$5 range.

While wine connoisseurs may not be inclined to throw a bottle of Walmart brand wine into their shopping carts, there is a market for cheap wine, said Kathy Micken, professor of marketing at Roger Williams University in Bristol, RI. She said: "The right name is important."
So, here we go:The top 12 suggested names for Walmart Wines:
12. Chateau Traileur Parc
11. White Trashfindel
10. Big Red Gulp
9. Grape Expectations
8. Domaine Walmart "Merde du Pays"
7. NASCARbernet
6. Chef Boyardeaux
5. Peanut Noir
4. Chateau des Moines
3. I Can't Believe It's Not Vinegar!
2. World Championship Riesling
And the number 1 name for Walmart Wine ...
1. Nasti Spumante

One badass hamster

TOKYO — A man in his 40s from Saitama Prefecture fell into a coma after being bit on the finger by his pet hamster in February and subsequently died, his doctor said Monday. The man, who was asthmatic, fell into anaphylactic shock, — a life-threatening allergic reaction — after being bitten.
He bred hamsters over the past several years and was bitten several time, the doctor said. He is believed to be the first person in Japan to die from a hamster bite. (Kyodo News)

Jillette socks it to readers
Kevin Wood Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer
Sock
By Penn Jillette
St. Martin's Griffin
228 pp, 12.95 dollars

From the first page, Sock pulls no punches. While some books seduce the reader with sweet prose and others entice with promises of a clever plot, Sock grabs you by the shirtfront, headbutts you in the face and throws you in the trunk of a stolen car before speeding off with the cops in hot pursuit.

First-time novelist Penn Jillette, better known for his inspired rants and carny barker spiels as "the larger, louder half" of comedy-magic duo of Penn & Teller, does not merely deconstruct the murder mystery, he pulls it inside out.

Sock has most of the standard elements of the genre--a big tough New York cop and his buddy breaking the rules to hunt a serial killer who murdered the woman he loves--but eviscerates the cliches. The tough cop is referred to as The Little Fool and is a sensitive, teetotaling, possibly bisexual police diver who gets pedicures from his buddy, a gay hairdresser, and gets fired for breaking the rules. The murdered woman was enthusiastically lapdancing her way through law school. And the narrator is a stuffed animal the hero has had since childhood.

Dickie the sock monkey is to Winnie the Pooh what William Burroughs is to A.A. Milne. A work sock stuffed with nylon stockings with the buttons off a gambler's sharkskin suit for eyes, Dickie is "the baddest wammerjammer monkey."

"Hustlers eyes, lumberjack skin, the heart of woman's legs and a grandmother's spoiling love. I got it all baby. I got it all, my little baby boy. Drool on me. Grab me. Carry me. Rip me apart. I'm a bad monkey."
Penn Jillette writes the same way he speaks on stage; with manic intensity. Sock has the energy of On The Road, the poetical outrage of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and the rhythm and animal sexiness of Mick Jagger circa 1972. He is wholly unpredictable, digressing into philosophical riffs on faith, sex, Ed Wood, death, Charles Darwin, strip clubs, grief, friendship, privacy and other topics too numerous to list.

Dickie is the Muhammad Ali of postmodern narrators, floating like a butterfly above the usual literary conventions and stinging like a bee with rapid-fire wisecracks. Virtually every paragraph ends with a line from a song, movie or some other cultural catchphrase. Dickie is a sock monkey who doesn't fear the reaper and loves the smell of napalm in the morning.

This is not a book for the faint of heart or the easily offended. Dickie is a delightfully, inventively foul-mouthed monkey and decidedly politically incorrect. Jillette has nothing but disdain for prudery of any sort and Sock is liberally laced with meditations on sex, some of them less philosophical than others.

Jillette plays with the medium as well as the message, injecting a few little doses of metafiction, occasional side stories, authorial asides, and a brief shift in narrative point of view.

Jillette's dark humor and flashy in-your-face stylistic bobbing and weaving mask a deep and often beautiful novel that takes on the big questions of the meaning of life and death without hedging.

Penn & Teller first hit the big time by confronting and criticizing what they refer to as fake magic. They constantly poked fun at the rabbit-from-a-hat, endless-rope-of-silk-scarves crowd and committed the cardinal sin of telling the audience how tricks were done.

Jillette shows the same sensibilities here. This book deals not with an imaginary action movie world, but with the real world. It farts and scratches itself and gets hungry, horny and tired. His characters screw up and suffer for it. The Little Fool teeters on the brink of a total nervous breakdown, gets fired for breaking the rules at work and for all his heroic qualities, exhibits the same moral and emotional weaknesses we all do at times.

The Little Fool wrestles with love, grief, Pascal's wager and the notion of faith in a very human way and makes a firm, unambiguous decision on the dangers posed by faith in imaginary friends.

In part an atheist manifesto and antihypocrisy screed, Jillette never gets annoyingly preachy or earnest, but constantly entertains, enthralls and challenges the reader.

Copyright 2004 The Yomiuri Shimbun

How to read a newspaper
Between the lines BBC political editor Andrew Marr has spent a lifetime reading newspapers. In an extract from his new book, he gives some tips on how to sort the facts from the froth
Monday September 20, 2004The Guardian

Know what you're buying
Reporting is now so contaminated by bias and campaigning, and general mischief, that no reader can hope to get a picture of what is happening without first knowing who owns the paper, and who it is being published for. The Mirror defines its politics as the opposite of the Sun's, which in turn is defined by the geopolitics of Rupert Murdoch's News International - hostile to European federalism and the euro and so forth. If it is ferociously against Tony Blair, this is probably because Number 10 has been passing good stories to the Sun. Its support for Gordon Brown was, similarly, driven by the need to find a rival when Blair courted Murdoch. It felt jilted. You need to know these things. You need to aim off.

Follow the names
If you find a reporter who seems to know the score, particularly in an area you know about, cherish him or her. In the trade we generally know who is good. If you are interested in social services and the welfare state, Nicholas Timmins, currently writing for the Financial Times, is essential. If you are interested in think-tank reports and the cerebral end of Whitehall then Peter Riddell of the Times is about the only reporter worth bothering with. But if you want investigative journalism that covers Whitehall, never miss David Hencke and Richard Norton-Taylor, both of the Guardian. Books? Robert McCrum of the Observer writes a weekly column that almost everyone in the publishing world will read. The funniest restaurant reviewer in London? Certainly, the Spectator's Deborah Ross. Best Northern Ireland correspondent? David McKittrick in the Indy.

In a crowded market, it is becoming harder to single out individuals since most fields, from sports reporting to the City or food writing, have two or three top acts. And everyone has their own favourites. But the point is, watch the bylines. If you find a friendly style, someone you grow to trust, treasure the name and follow it. My experience as an editor was that many readers were surprisingly attuned to the work of individual writers they knew nothing personally about. Bylines are often the only signal that gold, rather than dross, lies below.

Register bias
Even when you read the same paper every day, be aware that reporters are now less embarrassed to let the bias show. This is rarely direct party-political bias, but you may find that a columnist is favourably inclined towards one politician - say, that Bruce Anderson of the Independent is generally in favour of the Tory leader of the day, whoever he or she may be; and that Donald Macintyre, of the same paper, scrupulously fair, is generally more sympathetic to Peter Mandelson than most of his colleagues; and that Paul Routledge has a powerful partiality for Gordon Brown. This is all completely legitimate, but worth remembering; it may also point to the source of the story. That matters too: no political journalist in the early 2000s would read a story by the Times's Tom Baldwin without wondering whether he'd been speaking to Alastair Campbell. Baldwin has many sources, but Campbell, in the days of his glory, was a key one, giving that reporter's reporting added interest for the Westminster villagers. Again, worth knowing.

Read the second paragraph; and look for quote marks
Surprisingly often, the key fact is not in the first paragraph, which is general and designed to grab attention. Look for the hard fact in the next paragraph. If it seems soft and contentless, there is probably very little in the story. Similarly, always look for direct quotation. If a reporter has actually done the work, and talked to people who know things, the evidence will usually be there. Who are the sources? Are they speaking themselves? Are they named? Generic descriptions, such as "senior backbencher" or "one industry analyst" (my mate on the other side of the desk) or "observers" (nobody at all) should be treated sceptically. They can be figments of the reporter's prejudices or guesses, rather than real people. If you keep coming across well-written anonymous quotes, be highly suspicious: these are probably crumbling bricks without the straws of supporting fact.

If the headline asks a question, try answering "no"
Is this the true face of Britain's young? (Sensible reader: No.) Have we found the cure for Aids? (No; or you wouldn't have put the question mark in.) Does this map provide the key for peace? (Probably not.) A headline with a question mark at the end means, in the vast majority of cases, that the story is tendentious or oversold. It is often a scare story, or an attempt to elevate some run-of-the-mill piece of reporting into a national controversy and, preferably, a national panic. To a busy journalist hunting for real information a question mark means "don't bother reading this bit".
And watch out for quotation marks in headlines, too. If you read "Marr 'stole' book idea" then the story says nothing of the kind. If quotation marks are signs of real reporting in the body of a story, in the headline they are often a sign of failed reporting. That story may say someone else thinks Marr has stolen the idea for a book; but if the newspaper was reporting that this was really so, those giveaway squiggles wouldn't be there. As with question marks, headline quotation marks are mostly a warning sign, meaning "tendentious, overblown story follows ... " They certainly save my time in the morning.

Read small stories and attend to page two
Just because something is reported in a single paragraph does not mean it is insignificant. Busy subeditors, with their own blind spots and unexamined prejudices, and with limited space, often cut the most interesting or significant piece of news down to a few lines. And for reasons explained above, page two is often one of the richest sources of real, hard news. Here are the painstakingly researched articles and important tales suddenly stripped off the front page by a night editor in the small hours of the morning to make way for something "brighter" that may sell from the newsagent's counter.

Suspect 'research'
Hundreds of dodgy academic departments put out bogus or trivial pieces of research purely designed to impress busy newspaper people and win themselves some cheap publicity which can in turn be used in their next funding applications. If something is a survey, see if the paper reports how many people were surveyed, and when. If the behaviour of rats, or flies, has been extrapolated to warn about human behaviour, check whether the story gives any indication of how many rats, and how much caffeine they were injected with; and then pause for a reality check. If someone is described as an expert, look to see who they work for - and ask, would a real world expert be doing that? Also ask whether they are a doctor, or professor, or simply, "researcher, Jeff Mutt ... "

Check the calendar
Not simply for April Fool's, but for the predictable round of hardy annuals that bulk up thin news lists. Anniversaries; stories about the wettest/ driest/ longest/ wannest spring/ summer/ autumn; the ritual "row between judges" stories designed to whip up interest before annual book awards, and the equally synthetic "public disgust" stories about art shows. Every year there is a slew of tooth-sucking stories about the Royal Academy summer exhibition being a bit disappointing; about the autumn TV schedules being dominated by bought-in US mini-series or reality TV shows; about the disgusting and inane finalists for the Turner prize. You have read this stuff before; you will read it again next year. On a busy day, flick on.

Suspect financial superlatives
Even if the underlying rate of inflation is modest, then in the ordinary way of things, prices for many limited goods - Pre-Raphaelite paintings, or seaside huts, or football shirts, are going to be "the highest ever". For the same reason it is completely to be expected that teachers will get "their highest ever pay deals", however excited the minister sounds about this; and that non-executive directors' earnings will be "the highest recorded", however outraged the minister sounds about that. What is interesting is how these raw increases relate to inflation, and therefore to other prices and to each other. Are Van Gogh prices increasing faster than Picasso prices? Are the superstore bosses being paid more than before, relative to their staff? An informative story, as against a merely sensationalist one, will tell you that.

Remember that news is cruel
Reading the awful things that people apparently say about each other, or newspapers say about them, can be depressing. Is life really so writhing with distaste, failure and loathing? No - only in the newspapers. Acts of kindness, generosity, forgiveness and mere friendliness are hardly ever news; which is why there is a class of readers who turn their backs on newspapers and graze in the sunnier, gentler places of celebrity and women's magazines; or who obsessively trawl favourite internet sites and trusted periodicals to find news sources they feel they can trust, as they cannot trust the press.

Finally, believe nothing you read about newspaper sales - nothing Newspaper sales have been falling in Britain for a long time, and steadily. Yet every newspaper manages to tell a heartwarming story about how successful its sales are, almost every month. Work it out for yourself.

My Trade: A Short History of British Journalism by Andrew Marr is published by Macmillan at £20. To order a copy for £18.40 with free UK p&p, call the Guardian Book Service on 0870 836 0875.

The Dunce
telling tales out of school
http://www.salon.com/news/feature/2004/09/16/tsurumi/index.html

The Big Mac as spy novel
Kevin Wood / Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer
State of the Union
By Brad Thor
Atria, 335 pp, 25 dollars
You can't eat like a gourmet all the time--sometimes you just need some junk food.

By the same measure, even the most highbrow readers usually like to leaven their literary diet with the occasional piece of genre fiction mind candy.
But there is good junk food and bad junk food. Some genre fiction, like a Wolfgang Puck pizza, rises above the status of junk food to become a gourmet delight--John Le Carre's better books, the complete works of Raymond Chandler--while other authors like Ian Fleming manage to concoct a quality cheeseburger that satisfies our cravings with perfectly prepared original ingredients. Then there are those hacks who slap a chunk of Spam between two slices of Wonder Bread, garnish it with liberal amounts of processed cheese and ketchup, and claim it's food.

Best-selling thriller author Brad Thor hasn't quite sunk that low, but his by-the-numbers State of the Union bears an uncanny resemblance to a fast food chain burger: Both are bland, standardized and unoriginal, but having taken that first bite, you will finish quickly and feel briefly satiated, if a little queasy.

State of the Union is the kind of book that exists not to change the world or inspire the human race, but to fill time in an entertaining way on a train or airplane, occupy the mind while sunning oneself at the beach or while stuck inside on a rainy afternoon. It makes no pretensions to literary greatness, nor should it.

Thor's recipe mixes equal portions of Tom Clancy's technophilia, John Woo's cinematic action, and George W. Bush's worldview, spiced with brand names, lame banter and misplaced travelogues, potboiled to reduce humor and served half-baked.

State of the Union is Thor's third chronicle of the adventures of Scot Harvath, former U.S. Navy SEAL, ex-Secret Service agent and all-American he-man. Like all the other characters in State of the Union, Harvath is straight from central casting, despite attempts to add depth with a cliched backstory about how he feuded with his father--also a SEAL--because the two were so much alike. After his father was killed in a training accident, Harvath followed in his father's footsteps. Was it out of a desire to please his father or was it out of guilt or a sense of duty? Thor gives the reader little reason to care.

The author thanks more than a dozen former and active soldiers, law enforcement officials and technical experts for their assistance at the end of the book and painstakingly details all the standard tactical maneuvers, operating procedures, structures and protocols used by the alphabet soup of government security agencies that figure in the book, often sounding like he's cribbing from a training manual.

At other times, the book reads like an catalogue. Harvath doesn't just use a flashlight, he shines the 225-lumen beam of his M3 Millennium SureFire flashlight. He doesn't carry a switchblade, he carries a Benchmade Auto AXIS folding knife. Not a single weapon, aircraft or piece of gear is mentioned, without being described in the most exhaustive technical detail. Thor has definitely done his homework, but homework makes for dull reading.

The plot hangs on the idea that those old reliable bad guys, the Russians, didn't really lose the Cold War but have just been playing possum all these years. An overbearing, ruthless Russian general, oh-so-inventively nicknamed Rasputin, has smuggled a bunch of suitcase nukes into the United States and built an impregnable and totally unexplained air defense with the intention of blackmailing Uncle Sam into withdrawing from the world stage.

The president seems more concerned with the economic effects this could have on the nation than the prospects of mass death, but his first priority is to find a way to strike back against the godless commie reds. Further Republican values are evidenced by Harvath's reluctant and embarrassed visits to a whorehouse and a porno film studio in which virtually nothing of a sexual nature is ever mentioned and by the good guys' willingness, even eagerness, to use torture and violence in pursuit of their goals.

Add to this the obligatory gorgeous blonde Russian spy trying to head off the fiendish plot for the sake of the motherland and her dead father's good name, the sinister German torturer, the abducted father-figure suspected of betraying his country, all related in Thor's tepid, overdramatic, irony-free prose and the result is a something that reads more like a summary of an action movie script than a novel.

In his defense, Thor does manage to keep the action coming at a steady pace and the set pieces push all the expected buttons.

While never quite reaching the comically overwrought level of cheesiness found in such action pulp Spamburgers as the Mack "The Executioner" Bolan or Death Merchant books or the films of Steven Seagal, Thor's Scot Harvath series does give the impression that it should come wrapped in waxed paper with a side order of greasy french fries.

Not recommended for those watching their diets, but sometimes you just want a hamburger. And it's probably no worse than the in-flight movie.

Surfing the web's tsunami

Wrong way Dubya and the big Dick
Good piece in Slate and a great picture of the always lovely and diplomatic Dick Cheney

and my new favorite site to check regularly - Disinfotainment Today - with Paul Krassner columns, hilarious images and harsh political rants.

Tom Tomorrow rules this modern world
Down with the small cute dog!

'Twas Gimli and the slimy orcs Did battle and grumble in the way All flimsy were the Hornburg doors And in the end, they gave. - Lord of the Rings as written by Lewis Carroll -
GANDALF:
I do not want your bread and jam. I'm busy being mad at Sam. He likes to sneak. He likes to spy. Ill grind him up for hobbit pie!
FRODO: Oh, do not grind him up for pie! He is a pretty handy guy. He mows my grass. He paints my gate. He is my friend. We both are straight.
- Lord of the Rings as written by Dr. Seuss -

Roots of modern world twine through a gripping adventure
Kevin Wood / Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer
The Confusion: Volume Two of the Baroque Cycle
By Neal Stephenson
William Morrow, 815 pp, 27.95 dollars
Fully understanding the history of the 17th and 18th centuries is like trying to pick up a handful of mercury. Like the art of the period, the events of the Baroque Era are extremely complicated, intricate, and often baffling. As such, it is an apt setting for Neal Stephenson's three-volume Baroque Cycle of aptly titled novels: Quicksilver, published earlier this year; The Confusion, recently released; and The System of the World, due out in October.
Quicksilver set the scene and introduced the principal characters: Half-Cocked Jack Shaftoe, King of the Vagabonds, and his soldier brother Sgt. Bob Shaftoe; Eliza, a former Turkish harem slave rescued by Jack who goes on to become a financial prodigy and duchess; natural philosopher Daniel Waterhouse, the son of a puritan firebrand and college roommate and intimate friend of Isaac Newton.
The Confusion spans the years 1689 to 1702 and comprises alternating sections of two novels. The first, "Bonanza," is a swashbuckling caper in which Jack is miraculously cured of the syphilis that was slowly stealing his sanity in Quicksilver and hatches a plot with a multiethnic gang of his fellow galley slaves to steal a shipload of Spanish silver. The second, "Juncto," concerns the political, sexual, and business intrigues of Eliza, Bob Shaftoe's quest for revenge on the Earl of Upnor for enslaving the love of his life, and Waterhouse's various tribulations.
With a fittingly Baroque set of storylines that defy summary, and at times comprehension, Stephenson manages to deftly illuminate the beginnings of modern economics, science, politics, currency, information technology, trade, religion and cryptography. He also packs in more action than the combined works of Alexandre Dumas and Jerry Bruckheimer.
Jack Shaftoe in "Bonanza" circumnavigates the globe, robbing treasure ships on Spanish rivers, fighting marketplace battles in Cairo, buying mercury in Japan, selling his blood to feed insects in Ahmadabad, building ships in Luzon, facing the Inquisition in Mexico, concocting phosphorus for use as a weapon in Hindustan and even spending a few years as the appointed king of a small realm in the Indian hills. Stephenson crams in so much action that many significant events are merely alluded to or mentioned briefly by characters as the smoke of the latest battle clears.
"Juncto" moves at a slightly less breakneck pace, but with infinitely greater complication as Eliza loses and rebuilds her fortune, invents currency speculation as a way of getting revenge on the man who steals her first-born son, gives smallpox to a rapacious German prince and helps polymath Gottfried Leibniz develop his theories on information storage and calculating engines. Daniel Waterhouse is introduced to the bloody world of post-Restoration British politics in which gentlemen members of Parliament bite each others' ears off in coffeehouse brawls, and tries to convince Newton to abandon his alchemical work on atomic physics to take over the Royal Mint.
Much of "Juncto" takes the form of letters between Eliza and various characters ranging from Leibniz to the treasurer of France to legendary French privateer Jean Bart and often requires the reader to exercise a bit of deductive reasoning to read between the lines.
The Confusion, like Quicksilver, often digresses into lengthy explanations of banking systems, aristocratic genealogy and mathematical theory among other things, but Stephenson has a knack for making even the driest topics fascinating while rending the most complex subjects understandable. His attention to detail and relish for providing historical context provide the attentive reader with a liberal education, while his imagination and humor delight.
It is a rare feat to produce an 800-page novel that provides the reader such a feast, yet leaves them starved for more. Stephenson has done it twice and The System of the World is awaited with hungry anticipation.

Scumwads of a feather feather their nest together
Not that anyone should be surprised these two Great Men of Destiny (tm) were formally in cahoots, but it is nice to see one's expectations confirmed that they are both inept, corrupt crapulous fools. Read the excellent, life-affirming article in Slate.

The Curse of Black's Perle
According to the Hollinger report, Conrad Black and Richard Perle richly deserved each other.
By Daniel Gross
Posted Thursday, Sept. 2, 2004, at 1:44 PM

We hope one day you'll join us
A communique from the high command of the People Reluctant to Kill for an Abstraction. Viva la PRKA!
http://slate.msn.com/id/2105672/

sometimes headlines just suggest themselves, no matter what you do to try to drive them out of your head....


IOC pulls gold medal from Annus
Anti-doping officials unable to find Annus with Booth, Hans
ATHENS, Greece -- Hungarian hammer throw champion Adrian Annus was stripped of his gold medal on Sunday for failing to take a follow-up drug test, an International Olympic Committee executive board member said.
Annus passed his drug test after winning the gold on August 22, but failed to show up for another test Friday in Hungary. Refusing to take a drug test is considered the same as testing positive.
The IOC took the medal away following a disciplinary hearing Sunday, the executive board member said.
Annus did not attend the hearing. IOC anti-doping investigators Henry Booth and Fritz Hans were to administer the second test but could not contact Annus. (Okay, so I made that last part up. So what?)
It was the sixth medal -- and third gold -- revoked during the Athens Games because of doping. Japan's Koji Murofushi will get the gold for hammer throw, Ivan Tikhon of Belarus moves up to silver, and Turkey's Esref Apak gets the bronze.
Annus probed
Although Annus' event had been over for several days, the IOC has the authority to demand another drug test before the end of the games.
Annus passed his test after the hammer throw, but the IOC wanted another one to make sure he didn't try to circumvent the drug testing system, as his teammate Fazekas was accused of doing.
Fazekas lost his gold in the discus after Olympic authorities said he failed to provide enough urine for a drug test, a charge Fazekas disputes.
Pal Schmitt, head of the Hungarian Olympic committee, said Annus' doctor would not let him travel to Athens for Sunday's hearing because he was in bad shape psychologically.
Schmitt said Annus did not show up for the follow-up test because he thought the police station designated for it "was not an adequate place to maintain his dignity" and to ensure the integrity of the test.

Bob Dylan to publish first vol of his memoires
Agence France-PresseNew York, August 26

The first volume of US folk singer Bob Dylan's memoires will be on sale from October 12, publisher Simon and Schuster said on Wednesday.
Chronicles: Volume One, the first of a series of books written by Dylan, will be 304 pages long and will cover the period of his early career in the 1960s.
The book's first edition will have a run of 250,000 copies.
Soon after an updated version of the book Lyrics: 1962-2001, with the words to virtually all of Dylan's songs, will also be published.
Dylan, currently on a US tour with singer Willie Nelson, had originally planned to publish his memoirs in late 2002. There was no reason given for the delay.


"We wants it, oh yes we does. Its our precious"

Our spiritual leader of the moment: Pete Seeger

http://http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1092305288064&call_pageid=968867495754&col=969483191630


a bio

an interview

Since this newspaper doesn't archive stuff and this editorial will disappear in a day or two, I will post the whole thing in the interest of stirring debate and shining a light under the rock at the revisionist who run the Japanese media. I will try to comment at length and add links later

Class-B, -C 'war criminals' should never be forgotten
Yomiuri Shimbun
For Japan, today marks the 59th anniversary of the end of World War II. The occasion offers an opportunity to pay tribute to all those who were killed in the war and renew our pledge to pursue eternal peace.
Under international law, however, Aug. 15, 1945, did not mark an end to World War II for this nation. Article 1 of the San Francisco Peace Treaty states that a technical end to the warfare between Japan and the Allies took place on April 28, 1952, when the pact went into effect.
During those years, 25 Japanese wartime leaders and others were convicted as so-called Class-A war criminals in the International Military Tribunal for the Far East, known as the Tokyo Trial. Of the 25 convicts, former Prime Minister Hideki Tojo and six others were sentenced to death by hanging.
After the conclusion of the trial, Dutch Judge B.V.A Roling visited Maj. Gen. Charles Willoughby, the chief intelligence officer at GHQ, to bid him farewell before leaving Tokyo for the Netherlands. In his meeting with Roling, Willoughby is said to have denounced the Tokyo Trial as the "worst hypocrisy" in legal history. The GHQ officer told Roling that he would even ban his own son from serving in the army.
The episode symbolizes the nature of the Tokyo Trial.
Meanwhile, about 5,700 Japanese and others were tried at 49 military tribunals at home and overseas on charges relating to the violation of wartime laws, including the mistreatment of prisoners of war and the slaughter of civilians. A total of 920 convicts, including Koreans and Taiwanese, were executed as Class-B and -C war criminals.
Undeniably, the Imperial Japanese Army's conduct was marked by such barbarous acts as the abuse of POWs. Given this, it was correct that those involved in these atrocities were tried as Class-B and -C war criminals.

Victor's justice

But questions must be raised about many cases involving those tried as Class-B and -C war criminals.
The Allies hunted for suspects mainly on the strength of testimony taken from former POWs. But many Japanese and others were arrested and executed for crimes they had nothing to do with. Judges at those military tribunals were often careless in examining items presented as evidence. In some cases, defendants were never given the opportunity to state their cases.
It is said that the Dutch military tribunal in Indonesia was egregious in this respect. The tribunal was set up by the Netherlands, which invaded Indonesia two years after Japan's surrender to the Allies in 1945.
Two Japanese military officers were put to death as Class-B and -C war criminals for "competing to see which would be able to behead 100 Chinese with swords" during Japan's incursion into Nanjing in 1937. The accusation must be dismissed as fictional.
In 2003, the families of the two officers filed a lawsuit with the Tokyo District Court, seeking to restore their honor by proving that the accusation against them is groundless. The case is being heard at the district court.
Some rank-and-file soldiers were sentenced to death for executing POWs under orders issued by their superiors.
This is in stark contrast to the failure to dispense justice by trying Allied soldiers who visited atrocities on Japanese civilians. No one has been tried for the U.S. atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki or the U.S carpet bombing of Japanese cities.
On the contrary, the Allies tried a jurist of the Imperial Japanese Army for allegedly mistreating a U.S. pilot who was taken prisoner after his plane was downed. The jurist had sentenced the pilot to death for carrying out indiscriminate air raids on a Japanese cities.
Experts have said that the decision by the Allies to try the jurist was made because there were defects in procedures carried out by the Imperial Japanese Army in sentencing the pilot to death. Still, the trial of the Japanese jurist should be deemed to be retaliatory.
U.S. soldiers have drawn international condemnation for abusing Iraqi prisoners at Baghdad's Abu Graib prison. Reports have said that victims include those who were ordered to stand on small boxes with electric wires tied to their fingers and toes. Other victims were forced to go naked and form human pyramids. Some female prisoners allegedly were raped. Reported cases also include some deaths of prisoners.
U.S. Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz has acknowledged that some methods employed by the U.S. forces to interrogate Iraqi prisoners violated the Geneva Convention Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War.
If the standards applied in trying Japanese Class-B and -C war criminals were applied in the prosecution of the U.S. soldiers involved in the abuse of Iraqi prisoners, then it follows that they should receive the death penalty for committing such atrocities. We are interested to know what the United States will choose to do.

'Criminals' died for country

On May 30, 1958, the final 18 Class-B and -C "war criminals" were released from prison. This was six years after the San Francisco Peace Treaty took effect.
In 1959, those executed as Class-B and -C war criminals were enshrined at Yasukuni Shrine, where the souls of the war dead rest in peace. In 1978, the executed Class-A war criminals were enshrined at the Shinto shrine.
China and South Korea have reacted angrily to visits to Yasukuni Shrine by Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi in recent years. These nations defended their attitude by emphasizing that the shrine hosts the souls of the "Class-A war criminals."
Neither China nor South Korea have yet issued official comments critical of Japan's decision to enshrine the Class-B and -C "war criminals" at Yasukuni Shrine.
But what will China do if the Japanese government gives in to Chinese pressure and relocates the souls of the Class-A "war criminals" from the shrine to another facility? There are concerns that China and some of Japan's other neighbors could point a finger at Japan's decision to enshrine the Class-B and -C "war criminals" at the Yasukuni facility when they deal with issues involving their relations with this country.
Concerning the issue of paying tribute to the dead, it is a cultural tradition in Japan for everybody to be treated equally once he or she has passed away. In this sense, no "war criminal" should be excluded from the list of those to be honored at an annual government-sponsored memorial service for the war dead.
A bronze statue stands near the Marunouchi south exit of Tokyo Station, with its arms spread toward the sky. The statue's pedestal bears an inscription that reads "Love."
The bronze was erected in 1955 by an association called Sugamo Isho Hensan-kai, which hoped it would symbolize its members' earnest wish for world peace. Proceeds from the sale of "Seiki no Isho" (Wills of the Century)--a collection of essays written by the executed "war criminals" and later published by the association--were used to build the statue. It is a pity that this fact seems to have been forgotten.
"Seiki no Isho" contains about 700 essays and other articles written by Class-A, -B and -C "war criminals." The book shows that many of these "war criminals" quietly accepted their destinies as they looked toward their nation's future, although they insisted that the trials conducted to judge their wartime conduct were unfair.
No one should forget that Japan's current peace and prosperity have been made possible through the contribution that about 3.1 million Japanese killed in World War II and other wars made to their country.
(From The Yomiuri Shimbun, Aug. 15) Copyright 2004 The Yomiuri Shimbun



http://www.japanesestudies.org.uk/articles/Askew.html

denials

Nanjing and other atrocities

http://vikingphoenix.com/public/JapanIncorporated/1895-1945/jpwcrmz.htm

http://ideaworx.com/slatewiper/slatelinks.htm

Breakfast porn....3 egg moose farm omlette, steak, bacon, wild turkey, hot sauce, plums,iced coffee, green tea, parmaesan, tomato and fresh basil, guiness, cheddar, kiwifruit, Steely Dan, John Coltrane and the Asylum Street Spankers, Neil Stephenson, etc etc etc. 

Why as a matter of fact the back of my neck is feelin' dirty and gritty

We've broken a record here in Tokyo this summer for longest heat wave on record locally - 38 straight days in which the high temperature has been above 30 C (86 F for all those living in the stone age), including a record high temp in July of 39.5 C (103 F) and a record hot low of 32 C at 4am a few days back. And all with humidity in the 75 to 95 percent range. As they say in Texas "It's hotter than two rats fucking in wool sock around here"

Yet another reason to see the Asylum Street Spankers in concert

Things you never thought you'd ever see #237: Las Lindas Spanker songstress Christina Mars double necked ukelele

Adachi's novel isn't socks
Kevin Wood / Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer
The Island of Bicycle Dancers
By Jiro Adachi
St. Martin's Press, 230 pp, 22.95 dollars
Jiro Adachi has obviously taken the creative writing maxim "write what you know" to heart. It is therefore not surprising that the bike messenger, English teacher and native New Yorker's first novel is concerned mainly with the lives of bike messengers and non-English speaking immigrants in the Big Apple. The surprising part is what a terrific book Adachi has produced with The Island of Bicycle Dancers.
The story centers around Yurika, a half-Japanese, half-Korean young woman born and raised in Kawasaki who has been sent to New York to work in her Korean uncle's corner store and learn English. Having fallen in with the wrong crowd in Japan--mainly out of boredom--and flunking out of a few junior colleges, the directionless Yurika has been sent overseas to get her act together.
The offspring of a Hungarian mother and a Japanese father, Adachi has some firsthand knowledge of the cultural identity issues faced by those like Yurika who grow up straddling a cultural divide. Yurika has been raised Japanese and her father hides his Korean ethnicity to avoid discrimination. Arriving in New York, Yurika's wholly unlikeable and inhospitable aunt, Hyun Jeong, insists on calling her by her Korean name and generally treats her either as a burden or an indentured servant.
Yurika's American-born cousin Suzie, a promiscuous party girl, welcomes the new arrival with open arms, teaching her enough English to gossip about Yurika's crush on Hector, a handsome Hispanic bike courier.
Yurika also learns English from Whitey, another bike messenger, who falls hard for her and shows her the New York outside her aunt and uncle's Little Asia neighborhood.
The love triangle of Whitey, Yurika and Hector provides the main thrust that moves the plot along, but the closely linked themes of personal liberation and community provide the wheels.
Throughout the novel, Adachi shows us characters who have set themselves free. Whitey has dropped out of college and turned his back on his family's expectations to pursue his dreams of traveling and writing. Suzie reinvents herself as an English teacher. The idea of the United States as a nation of immigrants, the land of opportunity, the place to make a fresh start and create a new self is constantly in the background of Adachi's New York.
For Yurika, learning English is the key to becoming a new person. It is also the key to shedding the dead weight of her complicated family history and becoming a member of the bike messenger tribe, one of several communities Adachi presents us with here as alternatives to family.
The messengers watch out for each other, enforce their own code of conduct and pursue their own goals. New York's ethnic neighborhoods are shown in much the same way--tight-knit social networks that look after their own. Wealth is reckoned in terms of friendship, respect within the community and the joy taken in pursuing one's dreams.
Hyun Jeong is one of the villains of the novel, an immigrant who has never tried to learn the language, a grasping, hypercritical harpy who generally makes her husband, stepdaughter and niece miserable. She has no friends and doesn't seem to want any. Hector, too, closes himself off from the rest of the group and suffers the consequences.
The author's experience teaching English as a second language has clearly given him a taste of the immigrant experience and, as clearly evidenced here, an ear for the expressiveness and color of the English language--broken, slang, patois and otherwise.
Yurika learns the evocative street slang of the bike messengers, words like "badass" and "kickin'" and the all-important expression "up yours." From Suzie, she gets vocabulary lists and pronunciation drills that show off the sensual nature of the language. Adachi also throws in the occasional humorous malapropisms ESL teachers inevitably hear from their students, as when Yurika complains, "My English is socks."
While the constant use of the bicycle as a symbol of freedom becomes repetitive by the novel's end and the significance of the final scene, in which a set of training wheels are removed from a child's bike, is beyond obvious, The Island of Bicycle Dancers has all the fluid grace, speed, sweat, muscle and guts of a fixed gear racer without any needless ornamentation or chrome. It is a simple machine that transports us while letting us see some interesting things along the way.