Recently they setup a big display for kagami-mochi (鏡餅) at the Uwajimaya Japanese import store near work. I often stop by there for banking or culinary needs, as well as getting study material for the JLPT in the Kinokuniya store next door. So, I went one day to get some cash, and walked past this huge stack of red and gold boxes, which I vaguely recognized from Japan during my last visit around New Year’s. Curious, I decided to spend a little cash and picked one up:

Kagami-mochi is a traditional ornament in Japanese homes during the New Year, as it has a lot of auspicious symbolism related to Shinto. The round-shaped stack of mochi (餅) rice-cakes tied with a shimenawa (注連縄) has various interpretations, all of them positive. The little orange on the top is a bitter orange, or daidai (橙), which sounds like the word dai (代) as in “generation”. Often you can see cut bamboo, another auspicious symbol. Lastly the kagami-mochi is adorned with small white paper strips shaped like lightning, called gohei (御幣), a very common motif used in Shinto. You can always see gohei in Shinto shrines and even on the belts of Sumo wrestlers.

Our kagami-mochi was only $10, so it’s pretty basic. Even the orange is plastic. :-p

But I was real happy to get it, as it was the first such item my wife and I ever purchased, and since we purchased a new home, it seemed like a good way to start our new life in the house. It sits on a bookshelf now nicely. Normally kagami-mochi are supposed to go into small home Shinto altars, or kamidana (神棚), like the one her parents have at home, but we don’t have something like that, nor are we particular in a hurry to get one either as her family is more Buddhist than Shinto. So, for us, a high shelf is a nice place to put it.

Here’s the finished product, though not on the shelf due to bad lighting:

Enjoy!

P.S. For amusement, here is another picture I took of the box at work, showing all the computer books on my desk I never read. ;-p

P.P.S. For the photo at home, I just noticed of my little girl’s broken Anpanman toys is peeking up on the left-side. Too funny. The batteries need replacing, so it’s sitting on the counter for now.

Praegu mõistetakse jõulude all esimesi kiriku-aasta suurpühi Kristuse sünnitähisena. Juba sõna jõulud manab esile ilma pikema seletuseta teatava pidulikkuse tunde, vastavalt igaühe arusaamisele, mälestustele ning traditsioonidele. Enamikus arvatakse, et jõule pühitsetakse vaid Kristuse sünnist peale. Tegelikult jõulude iga ulatub tagasi kaugesse minevikku, kuid igal juhul on jõulude pühitsemine seoses usulise kultusega. Juba siis, kui inimsoo areng jõudis niikaugele, et ta oli suuteline jälgima aastaaegade vahetust, hakkas ta pühaks pidama talvist pööripäeva. Päike hakkas siitpeale võidutsema pimeduse üle ja algas looduses tärkamise ja kasvu periood. See oli elu ülalpidamiseks vajaline, seda pöördepunkti tuli paratamatult pidutsemiste ja ohvrite toomisega tähistada. Sel põhjusel pühitsesid kõik rahvad talvist pööripäeva. Need pühad olid sajandite vältel rahva hingeellu sööbinud ja neid tuli ka usuvahetusel alal hoida. Roomlasil kandsid talvise pööripäeva pühad nimetust DIES NATALIS (SOLIS)=võitmatu (päikese) sünnipäev.

Jõulupühade (25. detsembri) eelkäijaks on Mithra (Indra Mitra, greeka Mithras) kultus. Mithra oli aarialaste jumalus, mis oli ka vedalaste juures suures lugupidamises. Täies ulatuses pääsis Mithra kultus maksvusele Pärsias ja pärslaste kaudu levis ta kogu Ees-Aasias ning esimesel sajandil enne Kristust ka õhtumaal, Rooma riigi aladel, ja isegi üle selle, nii Saksamaal kui ka Skandinaavias. Tänaseni leitakse siin ja seal Saksamaal Mithra kultuse pühadusi ja reliikviaid. Mithra kultusest on ka ristiusk paljusid kombeid ja tõekspidamisi üle võtnud, nagu ristimise ja püha õhtusöömaaja sakramendid ja pühapäeva kui päi-kesepäeva pühitsemise. Aaria keeltes kannab pühapäev praegugi päikesepäeva nime. Ka jõulu esimese püha — 25. detsembri — pühitsemine on sealt pärit, sest 25. detsembrit pühitsesid mithralased Mithra ehk päikese sünni tähisena.

Ristiusu algpäevil .oli Mithra kultus ristiusule kardetav võistleja. Mitmed Rooma keisrid olid mithra-usulised. Eriti II ja III sajandil jõudis Mithra kultus Rooma riigis haripunktile. Selle eriti suur toetaja oli keiser Traianus. Võib olla, et Mithra usundi tegemine riigi usuks oli ka kasuks kristlasile, riigivõim ise eelistas uut usku vana Rooma usundile, kõigutades rahva usku vanadesse jumalatesse. Ristiusus on kaudseidki Mithra mõjutusi, kas või vaimulike riiete nimedena. Nii kannab katoliku piiskopi kübar mitra nimetust. See nimetus pole küll usulistel motiividel edasi kandunud, vaid võimu ja sära sümbolina.
Greeka valitsejad kandsid mithra-nimelist peavõru kui võimu ja sära sümbolit. Hiljem kandus see nimi kaitseriietuse osadele. Ka naiste riiete esemeist kandsid mõned mitra nimetust. Esimesil kristlikel kogudusil polnud kindlaid palvetamise aegu ega pühi. Kristlike koguduste liikmed võisid sooritada oma usulisi talitusi peamiselt tööit vabal ajal, tavaliselt ikkagi riiklikel pühil. Kõige sagedasem sellane päev oli päikesepäev — pühapäev — ja palvuste pidamine päikesepäeval muutis selle päeva ka kristlikele kogudustele pühapäevaks, olles seega esimeseks pühaks kristlasile. Koguduste kasvamise ja levikuga tekkis vajadus ka teiste kristlike suurpühade järele, kuna teised kultused neid omasid ja nende pühade traditsioon oli aastasadade ja -tuhandete vältel tugevalt juurdunud inimsoos. Sellest vajadusest aetuna tuli ka kristlikel kogudustel leida põhjusi oma suurpühadele. Selleks andis suure õpetaja — Kristuse — elu küllaldasel määral eeldusi. Nii tekkisid ka Kristuse sünni või jõulupühad. Millal neid pühi esmakordselt pühitseti, pole täpselt teada. Esimene kirjalik tõendis pärineb Aleksandria Clemensi kirjutusest (Titus Flavius Clemens Alexand-rinus suri umbes 215. a.). Sel ajal pühitseti Kristuse sünnipüha Epi/faania päeval, 6. jaanuaril, missugune päev ja nimetus on egiptuse päritolu (Epiphanas — ilmutus, nähtumine, ilmumine). Esmakordselt pühitseti Kristuse sünnipäeva 25. detsembril 354. aastal Roomas. Seega kohandati Kristuse sünnipäev Mithra sünnipühaga. Samuti pole teada, kas sündis see poliitilisil kaalutlusil, võistluses Mithra kultusega või mõnel muul põhjusel. Loomulikult peaks järeldama, et esimene tähtpäev, 6. jaanuar, peaks olema tõelisem. Roomast levis see uus tähtpäev ida kogudustele, kodunes peagi Palestiinas ja Egiptuses ja V sajandi keskpaiku tõrjus seal lõplikult välja esimese tähtpäeva. 6. sajandist peäle jäi 25. detsember kõikjal Kristuse sünnipäevana ja pühana maksma, välja arvatud armeenia kristlikud kogudused, kus tänaseni pühitsetakse Kristuse sünnipüha 6. jaanuaril.
On isegi võib-olla ülearune juure lisada, et nende kahe tähtpäeva pooldajate vahel oli selle küsimuse puhul ägedaid seletusi ja arusaamatusi.

Meie Kristuse sünnipühade levinuim nimetus jõulud on germaani päritoluga ja pealegi veel nende muinasusundist. Nii kandsid skandinaavlasii talvise pööripäeva pühad nimetust jõi (hjul) — s. t. ketas, anglosaksidel jälle geõl=rõõm, nali. Nende germaa-nide pühade mõiste on lähedane Mithra mõistele.
Skandinaavlaste julpüha kestis 12 kuni 20 päeva suurte pidustustega ja ohverdamistega. Need pidustused pidid kas hävitama surnud esivanemate hingesid, kes siis kõikjal liikusid, ja samuti taotlesid tulevase põllu- ja karjasaagi õnnestumist. Sama ajaga ühtusid ka skandinaavlaste rahu ja sigivuse jumaluse Freyr’i austamise pühad, mis kõik olid seoses päikese kulminatsiooniga ja päevade pikenemisega. Ohvrite toomine, ka inimohvrid polnud skandinaavlasii sealjuures haruldased, oli esikohal. Samuti toodi põllu-saadusi, peamiselt õlgi, elamuisse, ja õlgede toomise komme pole veel senini Rootsis kadunud. Sama komme oli ja on Eestis maksev tänaseni. Talvise pööripäeva — jõulude — pühitsemine sündis igal rahval vastavalt ta kombeile.

Vanad roomlased ehtisid oma uusaastapööri-päeva pidustuste puhul avalikke piduplatse ja elamuid roheliste, võimalikult õitsvate, puuokste või vanikutega, milleks peamiselt olid loorberi- või õli-puu omad. Germaanlasil olid selleks aga igihaljad kuuseoksad. Kristliku kiriku võimu laienemisega kõrvaldusid muinasaegsed pidustused ja lõbustused, peamiselt ülikate ja aadlike juures, sest lihtrahvas elasid need väiksemal mõõdul ja teisendatud mõistel edasi. Traditsioon on aga visa. Seda pole võimalik täiesti kõrvale heita, teda tuleb vaid uuendada. Tekkisid nn. jõulumängud. Kuidas need arenesid, pole vahest võimalik täpselt ära määrata, võib aga arvata, et esialgselt need olid suulised. Arvatavasti on jõulumän-gude häll Prantsusmaal, sest siit on varajasest keskajast pärit esimene kirjalik jõulumängu tekst. Peagi levis ta siit Saksamaale ja mujale. Need olid ladinakeelsed dramaatilised näidendid sisuga Kristuse sünnist, Petlema laste mõrvast, karjaseist, prohvetite ennustusist jne. Sellaste jõulumängude kestus oli pikk, kuid oma ladina keele tõttu need olid vaid vähestele täieliselt arusaadavad. Üldiselt olid need oma efektsuse tõttu siiski ka laiematele hulkadele vaatamisväärsed, mis mitmekesistasid kiriklikku üksluisust.
Praegune obligatoorne jõulukuusk aga ei või uhkustada kuigi suure eaga. See tekkis esmakordselt alles 17. sajandil Saksamaal ja seda tuleb lugeda muinasaegsete kuuseokste ja -vanikute järglaseks. Kulus terve sajand, kuni kuusele lisandused küünlad. Alles 19. sajandist peale levis jõulukuuse ja -küünalde kultus kõikidesse maadesse. Küünalde kultus meenutab tahtmatult päikese kultust (küünal päikese kultusena). Kindlasti ei mõelnud jõuluküünla leiutaja päikese austamise kultusele. Võeti vaid kirikuküünlaist eeskuju. Kindlasti hoovab küünaldega jõulukuusest müstilist rahu, pühadust ja suursugusust.

Praeguste jõuludega on lahutamatu ka jõuluvana, kes on küll väikestele lastele tähtis, kuna vanemad inimesed on loobunud otseselt jõuluvanast, kuid mitte sellest traditsioonist, sest kinkide jagamine ja saamine on jõuluvana teisend. Ka see komme pole eesti päritoluga ega ole üldiselt kuigi vana. Seegi pärineb Saksamaalt ja 17. sajandist. Siin kandis ta nimetust Knecht Ruprecht. Ta eelkäijaks loeti püha Nikolaost ja Kneoht Ruprecht oli eelmise töö jätkaja — jõulude kuulutaja ja lastele maiustuste jagaja.
Meie jõulumees omas ka eelkäijaid, keda nimetati jõulukarüks, jõulusokkuks, jõuluhaneks jne. Tavaliselt oli sellane jõulusokk moonutatud kas pahupidi kasukaga või mõne muu riidega, kuid meie jõulusokk ei jaganud ande, vaid kogus neid ise, ja peamiseks kogumise objektiks olid pähklid. Nüüd on kogumine kõikjal asendatud jagamisega. Kõik kombed ja kultused on kohanenud ajaga ja maailmavaadetega, vaid üks neist on püsinud muutmatult, see on rikkalik söögilaud… 

No real scientific proof of the existence of Jesus, sorry…

See on artikli autoril õigesti ära tabatud, et ristiusk on jõledalt silmakirjalik ideoloogia. Kurb, et inimesed ei suuda või ei viitsi sellest valede kogumist loobuda. Mõtisklege veidi kasvõi kristluse postuleeritud jumala palge üle: isane mehike, kes vaevleb skisofreenia küüsis. (Jeesuse lugulaul, mis suisa haiglasena kajastub tema variserlikus halinas ristil, kui pöördub iseenda (on ta ju jumala üks hüpostaas) poole lunimisega enda päästmisest).

Ajalool puuduvad igasugusedki tõsiteaduslikud andmed kellegi usklase Jeesuse tatsamisest maailmavallutajana Juudamaal kaks tuhat aastat tagasi. Vastuoluline ja silmakirjalik on ka ristiusklaste propageeritav maailma loomise müüt: öelge, kulla ristirahvas, miks pidi jumal looma maailma, kui ta on ju täiuslik, st tal ei ole millestki puudus? Luues maailma, omades tahtmist luua, mida veel ei olnud, oli tal sellest maailmast puudus — kuid siis ei ole ta absoluut, või teisalt — ta ei andnud endale nõrgamõistuslikult aru, mida teeb. Muud loogikat ei ole ju.

Lõpetuseks — inimkond on ilma kristluseta elanud valdava osa oma eksisteeteerimisajast ning saanud küllaldaselt kenasti hakkama. Kristlused tulevad ja lähevad, lärmavad ja hääbuvad… aegade voolus.

Wicca-derived modern neopagan slang terms like “newbie” and “getting thwapped” have absolutely no place in even moderately reconstructionist pagan religions.

“Newbie” is a term implying resentment towards beginners. It’s appropriate in something like online gaming, where beginners can be annoying and in the way. Whether or not it’s appropriate in Wicca or other witchcraft practice is none of my business, since I’m not a Wiccan or any other kind of witch. But in [recon] polytheist faiths, that kind of attitude towards new believers makes no sense whatsoever. We should be embracing, welcoming, and guiding new believers, not resenting them and being annoyed at them. Why on earth would we want to discourage people from coming back around to the gods of their ancestors? Sure, just like new believers in any faith, their (our) heads are probably full of leftover ideas from wherever they came from, but the response there should be gentle (or firm, as the case may be) correction, not personal resentment. Direct your ire toward the religion(s) that gave them unhelpful ideas, not toward them for having them. New believers are not in the way; they are an essential part of a living, thriving faith community.

“Being thwapped” is a flippant and disrespectful term for a powerful and sacred revelatory mystical experience. It stems from an casual attitude towards the gods that is born from neopagan beliefs about the nature of divinity that have no place in a truly polytheistic faith. But even if you believe that the gods are mere psychological archetypes, they still are potent and powerful archetypes that should be honored and respected. Being casual about them is dangerously disrespectful, if you believe they actually exist in any real sense.

Between the lore we have from the ancients and analogous modern living polytheist faiths we have plenty of vocabulary–specialized, tested, specific vocabulary that properly expresses what we are trying to say the way we should be saying it. Relying on modern neopagan slang to define our spiritual lives essentially allows modern neopaganism to set the terms, and it undermines many of the core concepts of our faiths.

On my way to price a vaccuum cleaner for our tatami floors (ended up buying at 1300 yen used vaccuum at a recycle shop), I was surprised to see this display of shimekazari at Muji, which was busy blasting Xmas music and offering holiday specials.

Shimekazari are end of the year Shinto displays for the home. They can include rice, rope, pine, and folded paper, and welcome ancestral harvest kami or spirits. Smaller ones hang on the door, and larger ones sit outside of homes and shops.

Seeing shimekazari inside Muji was an uncanny juxtaposition of Shinto shrine and modern commerce, old Japan and Xmas, agrarian and urban.

“To activate the unconscious means to awaken the divine, the devi, Kundalini – to begin the development of the suprapersonal within the individual in order to kindle the light of the gods. Kundalini, which is to be awakened in the sleeping Muladhara world, is the suprapersonal, the non-ego,… For this reason Kundalini is the same principal as the Soter, the Savior Serpent of the Gnostics.”

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 4, 26 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 68/69

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 1, 12 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 21

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 1, 12 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 20

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 1, 19 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 28/29

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 1, 12 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 4

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Jung’s Comments in Hauer’s German Lectures. Indian Parallels 11 October 1930.
Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 74.

The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga, Carl Jung.
Lecture 2, 19 October 1932, Notes of the Seminar, Princeton University Press, USA, 1996, Page 26

Kadi just tried Chinese Astrology!

Kadi discovered her Chinese Astrology sign is The Metal Rooster!

Brief Description : Roosters are very smart dressers, hard workers and dreamers. They have a tendency of speaking their minds all the time which isn’t always a good thing!

Positive Traits : forthright, brave, enthusiastic, loyal, hardworking, tenacious, resilient, adventurous, meticulous, prompt, astute, well-dressed, proficient, down-to-earth, gregarious, communicative, sensible, generous, charming, ebullient and terminally witty.

Negative Traits : cranky, fussy, vain, self-involved, blindly egotistical, over-zealous, pretentious, materialistic, grabby, high-handed, cynical, mercurial, self-absorbed and quixotic as hell.

WATER FIGHTING for fun seems to be a universal human phenomenon. Put two children into a stream or swimming pool, and it won’t be long before they’re splashing away at each other and laughing like crazy. What kid doesn’t like water pistols and water balloons? We’ve all been to carnivals where one of the attractions involves throwing a ball to hit a spot on a board connected to a switch that pulls the seat out from under a hapless volunteer sitting atop a pool. Sometimes they don’t even bother with the mechanism and just let people throw big wet sponges at a guy with his head stuck through a hole in the board. And I remember one summer evening as a kid watching in envy as my parents and a few adults in the neighborhood got gloriously silly while having a mock battle with a garden hose.

Of course the Japanese like water battles too, and of course they go everybody one better. At the Kashima Shinto shrine in Fukushima, Okayama, they turn one into a religious festival every year on the fourth Sunday in October.

It all began more than 800 years ago when a plague ravaged the area. On the instruction of the divinities, some “bright children” (the reports say prodigies, but they don’t explain why) started splashing each other with muddy water, and the plague disappeared.

Here’s the sequence of festive events as handed down over the centuries. After an initial ceremony at the shrine, the parishioners parade through the area with a mikoshi, or portable Shinto shrine, to a separate location. There another ceremony is held to open the cask of consecrated sake, which in this case is doburoku.

Wouldn’t you know there was liquor involved! And in this case, it’s consecrated, so they’ve got a legitimate reason for calling it “spirits”.

After opening the barrel of spiritually infused sake, everyone heads back to the shrine. The various festival officials take their seats in a specified order at a special site erected on the shrine grounds called a mizuya, or water house. Then they sing the Noh song of Takasago.

Liquor: Check. Singing: Check.

Once the song is over, they offer the consecrated sake to the divinities twice. That’s what a group of young men outside the mizuya have been waiting for. All the young dudes start yelling “Mizu da!” (It’s water!), and douse the older guys inside with muddy water from buckets. But the festival officials inside aren’t defenseless—oh, no, not at all. They fight back with ammunition from tanks of water of their own under the floor. Soon water is flying inside and out across the engawa, an interior porch in traditional Japanese dwellings.

Just in case everybody isn’t wet and dirty enough, they add some straw to the muddy water in larger tanks outside, and then toss in people who’ve gotten married in the past year. According to one account they also push in married men who’ve taken their wife’s family name (which happens sometimes in Japan) and middle-aged people. Apparently no one leaves the premises dry.

Now that everyone’s gotten good and wet and laughed themselves silly, the shrine officials toss pieces of mochi rice to the crowd and everyone goes home and gets wet again in the shower. The festival, which has been designated an important cultural treasure of the prefecture, is held in supplication for the good health and prosperity of the residents. Who knew muddy water could be good for you? If it comes to that, who knew a water fight could be turned into something so exalted?

Lest you get the wrong impression, here’s another festival that demonstrates the Japanese are perfectly capable of demonstrating their veneration and respect for water. This one’s called the O-Mizugaeshi, or Water Returning, and it’s held at the same time of year at a local pond in the Azumi district of Matsumoto, Nagano.

This event is much more recent—it began in 1992, and one of the prime movers was the Azumino Tourist Association. It starts with a ceremony at the Hotaka Shinto shrine, which is next to the pond itself. After the ceremony, some priests and local representatives board two boats and make a slow circuit of the pond. They bring along some water taken from the local Sai River at the point where it and the Hotaka and Takase rivers converge. Then, once they’ve finished circling the pond, they ceremoniously pour in the river water. And that’s it.

This year about 50 attended the festival, which is held to prevent shipwrecks and other disasters involving water. One of the men on the boat was a university professor studying local festivals (now there’s a gig I’d like to have). He said, “These days we take the existence of water for granted, but it’s very important to have a festival of this sort, which gives thanks for water.”

Doesn’t that go to show you really never can tell? Suppose someone told you there were two festivals, one involving a fight with muddy water and the other an elegant ceremony of reverence for nature, and that one of them began 800 years ago and the other was not quite 18 years old.

Would you have been able to match the festival with its age?

Afterwords: It’s been almost six months without a festival post. That’s way too long! Mea culpa and moshiwake arimasen!

My cup runs over… I cannot contain all this alone. This is my third state of Grace. Am I ready for this again?

My heart is howling and thundering… I feel like I could wear out my mouth and, yet, I can utter nothing. Once it was said, I couldn’t take it back.

At least I solved my panic attack problem. My husband and Elliott helped talk me through some techniques for centering myself and controlling my fear and shame. And anxiety and nervousness.

I—I won’t be afraid of this again. I can do this. Hasn’t every step of my life prepared me for this day? Everything is a risk. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say…

I took a walk at 3 PM. Streets choked in mist, the lake was a perfectly still black pool with water above and water below. More yellow streetlamps burning through distant trees and the cries of hundreds of night birds around the banks all around me. I could not speak. I was overwhelmed.

I am afraid of walking into the castle hidden in the mist. I am content now, and I worry that I will not be content later and what I saw was just a mirage… I’ve been burned before…

But this… I can be as big as this. I don’t have to be as small as alone. Yes…yesyesyes… everything in me screams “Yes!”

I speak the words of air, fire, and truth… if I will it, I can do it. If i can imagine it, I can make it. I can make my own miracles, nor should I be surprised when the Gods answer my prayers and in triplet!

“Man in innocence was under the blessing of the Law; in a state of nature he was under its curse; in a state of grace he is under its direction and will be in that in glory.” – Thomas Bell

Yessss…

Chief priest Seihan Mori writes the year’s top kanji, “shin,”

which means “new,” at Kiyomizu Temple in Kyoto on Friday.

Firstly, an unrelated note here. I know I have neglected this blog for a long time, and I really do regret it. I will try harder from now on. Oh, and my main blog is here, so you might want to take a look.

My last post in my main blog was about iGoogle (Google’s customizable page). I use the tea house theme for my own iGoogle, which I think is wonderful because it changes all the time. I love foxes and the illustration of this particular fox is amazingly cute. Plus it changes during the day. You can see the different illustrations of the upper bar during the different times of the day in the post on my main blog.  You might have noticed the spirits there at 03:14 who eat the oranges which are offerings, they are some kind of a Yōkai which are a class of preternatural creatures in Japanese folklore ranging from the evil oni (ogre) to the mischievous kitsune (fox) or snow woman Yuki-onna.

Here are some Yōkai images that were illustrated during the Edo period. They are ukiyo-e prints, which are Japanese woodblock prints or paintings.

Below is a Kappa, which is a type of water sprite found in Japanese folklore.

Below, there are images of Tengu (天狗^?, “heavenly dogs”) which are a class of supernatural creatures found in Japanese folklore, art, theater, and literature. They are one of the best known yōkai (monster-spirits) and are sometimes worshipped as Shinto kami (revered spirits or gods). Although they take their name from a dog-like Chinese demon (Tiangou), the tengu were originally thought to take the forms of birds of prey, and they are traditionally depicted with both human and avian characteristics. They appear in the children’s story Banner in the sky when the main character trips over one and falls off the face of the mountain. The earliest tengu were pictured with beaks, but this feature has often been humanized as an unnaturally long nose, which today is practically the tengu’s defining characteristic in the popular imagination.

Buddhism long held that the tengu were disruptive demons and harbingers of war. Their image gradually softened, however, into one of protective, if still dangerous, spirits of the mountains and forests. Tengu are associated with the ascetic practice known as Shugendō, and they are usually depicted in the distinctive garb of its followers, the yamabushi.

To add some more differentiation to Yokai, there are also my favorite types, the Kitsune and the Yuki-onna:

Kitsune, 狐, きつね is the Japanese word for fox. Foxes are a common subject of Japanese folklore; kitsune usually refers to them in this context. Stories depict them as intelligent beings and as possessing magical abilities that increase with their age and wisdom. Foremost among these is the ability to assume human form. While some folktales speak of kitsune employing this ability to trick others—as foxes in folklore often do—other stories portray them as faithful guardians, friends, lovers, and wives.

Foxes and human beings lived in close proximity in ancient Japan; this companionship gave rise to legends about the creatures. Kitsune have become closely associated with Inari, a Shinto kami or spirit, and serve as his messengers. This role has reinforced the fox’s supernatural significance. The more tails a kitsune has—they may have as many as nine—the older, wiser, and more powerful it is. Because of their potential power and influence, some people make offerings to them as to a deity.

Yuki Onna (雪女, snow woman) is a spirit or yōkai in Japanese folklore. She is a popular figure in Japanese animation, manga, and literature.

Yuki-onna appears on snowy nights as a tall, beautiful woman with long hair. Her inhumanly pale or even transparent skin makes her blend into the snowy landscape (as famously described in Lafcadio Hearn’s Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things). She sometimes wears a white kimono, but other legends describe her as nude, with only her face and hair standing out against the snow. Despite her inhuman beauty, her eyes can strike terror into mortals. She floats across the snow, leaving no footprints (in fact, some tales say she has no feet, a feature of many Japanese ghosts), and she can transform into a cloud of mist or snow if threatened.

Some legends say the Yuki-onna, being associated with winter and snowstorms, is the spirit of someone who perished in the snow. She is at the same time beautiful and serene, yet ruthless in killing unsuspecting mortals. Until the 18th century, she was almost uniformly portrayed as evil. Today, however, stories often color her as more human, emphasizing her ghost-like nature and ephemeral beauty.

In many stories, Yuki-onna appears to travelers trapped in snowstorms, and uses her icy breath to leave them as frost-coated corpses. Other legends say she leads them astray so they simply die of exposure. Other times, she manifests holding a child. When a well-intentioned soul takes the “child” from her, they are frozen in place. Parents searching for lost children are particularly susceptible to this tactic. Other legends make Yuki-onna much more aggressive. In these stories, she often invades homes, blowing in the door with a gust of wind to kill residents in their sleep (Some legends require her to be invited inside first.)

What Yuki-onna is after varies from tale to tale. Sometimes she is simply satisfied to see a victim die. Other times, she is more vampiric, draining her victims’ blood or “life force.” She occasionally takes on a succubus-like manner, preying on weak-willed men to drain or freeze them through sex or a kiss.

Like the snow and winter weather she represents, Yuki-onna has a softer side. She sometimes lets would-be victims go for various reasons. In one popular Yuki-onna legend, for example, she sets a young boy free because of his beauty and age. She makes him promise never to speak of her, but later in life, he tells the story to his wife who reveals herself to be the snow woman. She reviles him for breaking his promise, but spares him again, this time out of concern for their children (but if he dares mistreat their children, she will return with no mercy. Luckily for him, he is a loving father). In a similar legend, Yuki-onna melts away once her husband discovers her true nature.

Autoriks 90-aastane Regina Brett, kes elab Clevelandis,

„Et tähistada vanemaks saamist, kirjutasin ükskord üles 45 õppetundi, mis olen elult saanud. See on olnud minu kõigi aegade kõige populaarsem veerg. Minu aastaloendur liikus augustis 90 peale, mispuhul see nõutud veerg uuesti:

1. Elu pole õiglane, kuid on ikkagi hea.

2. Kui kahtled, astu lihtsalt väike samm edasi.

3. Elu on liiga lühike, et raisata seda kellegi vihkamisele.

4. Sinu töö ei hoolitse su eest, kui oled haige. Seda teevad sõbrad ja
vanemad. Hoia kontakti.

5. Maksa oma krediitkaardi võlg iga kuu tagasi.

6. Sa ei pea kõigis vaidlustes peale jääma. Lepi lahkarvamusega.

7. Nuta kellegagi koos. See aitab paremini kui üksi nutmine.

8. Jumala peale võib vihastada küll. Ta kannatab selle välja.

9. Alusta pensioniks kogumist esimesest palgast peale.

10. Šokolaadi asjus ei tasu vastupanu üritadagi.

11. Sõlmi rahu oma minevikuga, et see olevikku tuksi ei keeraks.

12. Sinu lapsed võivad küll sind nutmas näha.

13. Ära võrdle oma elu teiste omaga. Sul pole aimugi, milles nende teekond
seisneb.

14. Kui suhe peab jääma saladuseks, ei peaks sa selles suhtes olema.

15. Kõik võib silmapilgu jooksul muutuda. Kuid ära muretse – Jumal ei
pilguta kunagi silmi.

16. Hinga sügavalt sisse. See rahustab meeli.

17. Saa lahti kõigest, mis pole kasulik, ilus ega rõõmuvalmistav.

18. Mis ei tapa, teeb tõepoolest tugevamaks.

19. Õnneliku lapsepõlve jaoks pole kunagi hilja. Ainult et teine lapsepõlv
on täiesti su enda teha, mitte kellegi teise.

20. Mis puutub selle poole püüdlemisse, mida tõesti armastad, siis ära lepi
eitava vastusega.

21. Põleta küünlaid, maga pühapäevalinade vahel, kanna seda ilusat pesu.
Ära hoia neid eriliseks puhuks. Täna ongi eriline.

22. Valmistu liigagi hästi ette, seejärel lase asjadel oma rada minna.

23. Ole kohe ekstsentriline. Ära oota vanaduspõlve, et lillat kanda.

24. Kõige olulisem suguorgan on aju.

25. Keegi teine peale sinu ei vastuta sinu õnne eest.

26. Lisa igale niinimetatud katastroofile klausel „Kas viie aasta pärast on
sel mingit tähtsust?”

27. Vali alati elu.

28. Anna kõigile kõik andeks.

29. Pole üldse sinu mure, mida teised inimesed sinust mõtlevad.

30. Aeg parandab peaaegu kõik. Anna ajale aega.

31. Kui hea või halb olukord ka poleks, lõpuks see muutub.

32. Ära võta ennast liiga tõsiselt. Keegi teine sind ju ei võta.

33. Usu imedesse.

34. Jumal armastab sind oma loomuse tõttu, mitte millegi sinu tehtu või
tegematajäetu pärast.

35. Ära püüa teha elule peaproovi. Ilmu kohale ja anna endast parim kohe
praegu.

36. Vananemine on parem kui teine võimalus – noorelt surra.

37. Sinu lastel on ainult üks lapsepõlv.

38. Lõppude lõpuks loeb ainult see, et sa armastasid.

39. Mine iga päev välja. Imed ootavad kõikjal.

40. Kui me kõik kallaksime oma probleemid kuhja ja näeksime teiste omi, siis
kahmaksime enda omad tagasi.

41. Kadedus on ajaraisk. Sul on juba kõik, mida vajad.

42. Parim on alles ees …

43. Mis tujus sa ka poleks, tõuse püsti, pane hästi riidesse ja ilmu kohale.

44. Anna järele.

45. Elul ei ole lehvi ümber, aga kingitus on see ikkagi.

Yesterday I commented on the personal aspect of my writing career, how I got started, what path I took, and how long it took me.  Today I’d like to address another personal aspect of my life that many ask me about, in all possible ambiguity – How does a Shintoist live with a Buddhist?

First off, I must say that while traditionally, Shinto and Buddhism are considered religions, neither myself nor the Buddhist view the practices as such.  The practices are simply the way we chose to live our lives – they are lifestyles.  Define “religious” anyway, and you will find that the word pertains to anything you do in your life as a habit. It is not the act of praying to a God, it is the act of living your life. It’s just that in some of those lifestyles, praying to a God is a large part of the lifestyle.

Let me start by giving you come background information on Shinto and Buddhism in Japan, as this is the major influence of both mine and the Buddhist’s lifestyle practice choice.  Buddhism came to Japan from Korea and China, and was accepted in the Nara period when the reining empress encouraged the following, so it became recognized as an official “religion” of Japan. Shinto has its origins right in Japan, but the earliest documentation of it in the Nihon Shoki was not until the 7th century. The idea is that Shinto was immediately the Japanese way of life, and was not considered a “religion” until other religious practices came into Japan and began to change the lifestyles that people chose.

The practices of Buddhism and Shinto are widely similar.  Both have environmental anchors believed to house the energy needed to complete certain tasks in daily life.  The basis of both lifestyles is energy, and how the practitioner can use that energy to move the universe.  Both lifestyles state that we are connected to every living thing, and thus share energy, and thus can use that energy to achieve an end goal.  Both have lore associated with them in order to give meaning to these environmental anchors and determine the type of energy that each holds.

So what’s the difference?  Buddhism and Shintoism are often compared and called opposites, and I believe this to be the underlying answer:  Shinto does not believe in impurities, the largest and most obvious being death. A Shintoist will be concerned in the present with ridding themselves of impurities, often by washing their hands frequently or with a cleansing incense such as Sandalwood.  The main concern of the Buddhist in the present is a state of calm and grounding. They can be seen as opposites because the quest for purity can be called a frantic one, if not approached in the right kind of way, and often can be seen as OCD.

The other main difference which only counts if you are in Japan – Shinto is practiced at shrines, and Buddhism is practiced in temples.

Modernly, there is not enough difference between these two lifestyles for them to remain separate in every aspect of Japanese life, and are often combined to suit whichever need is easiest to fulfill. There are more similarities than differences, and so differences are cast aside completely, because the society is not diverse enough for it to matter, as everyone accepts the same guidelines to be truth.  This is all based in fact, as I said I was going to remain ambiguous and impersonal with my personal life….I think I did well!

And now, the last spoke of the wheel….

….Shinto.

I will be the first to tell you that I am not Japanese. I have never been to Japan. I’ve never been particularly drawn to all things Japanese, like a few pagans I know. It is a beautiful country, but I am not obsessed about it.

So why Shinto?

I don’t know very much about Shinto, other than what I have read. I left Shinto last because I wanted to take a long time to think about it. It is hard for me, as westerner, to understand the intricate workings of what is called the ‘Japanese religion’. But my plan is to do what I can, and honour it as best as I can.

Wikipedia says

Shinto is a religion in where practice (actions) and ritual, rather than words, are of the utmost importance. Shinto is characterized by the worship of nature, ancestors, polytheism, and animism, with a strong focus on ritual purity, involving honoring and celebrating the existence of Kami. Kami are defined in English as “spirit”, “essence” or “deities”, that are associated with many understood formats; in some cases being human like, some animistic, others associated with more abstract “natural” forces in the world (mountains, rivers, lightning, wind, waves, trees, rocks). It may be best thought of as “sacred” elements and energies. Kami and people are not separate, they exist within the same world and share its interrelated complexity.

It sounds like a lot of the work I already do. I focus a lot on intention, and in honouring the sacred.

I plan on doing three things:
1- Finding an outdoor shrine (a tree, likely) to tie my wishes on to.
2- Do a purification ritual every day to prepare me for the big one at the end of the month.
3- Create an Omamori to wear to bring me good health.

Since there is no shrine nearby, I will have to make my own.

What an evening! The Shin Ryu Aikido class at Action Martial Arts planned a surprise birthday part for Sensei Gayer. His first surprise was to have a full class in attendance. We went through our warm ups and moved into our techniques with vigor.

The birthday surprise was sprung when his wife and a number of former students arrived with cake during class. He left us on the mat, happily practicing our techniques to reunite with old friends. He didn’t let us off the hook just because cake had arrived though. We practiced some vigorous waza to make up for the short class.

Then Sensei surprised us. He had received a Gohei from his Sensei (Koichi Barrish Sensei), who now leads the Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America. Each member of the class performed the purification ritual with the Gohei to remove the impurities (tsumi/kegare) that we had collected over the past year. (See the December 13th event here.)

We presented Sensei with his gifts after class was over. He is wearing one of them in this picture.

For men, the 60th birthday is called kanreki, the recognition of his “second infancy.” The Japanese characters in the word kanreki literally mean “return” and “calendar.” The traditional calendar, which was based on the Chinese calendar, was organized on 60-year cycles. The cycle of life returns to its starting point in 60 years, and as such, kanreki celebrates that point in a man’s life when his personal calendar has returned to the calendar sign under which he was born.

Traditionally, friends and relatives are invited for a celebratory feast on one’s 60th birthday. It is customary for the celebrant to be given a red hood and wear a red vest. These clothes are usually worn by babies and thus symbolize the celebrant’s return to his birth. [From http://jcch.com/japanese-traditions.asp]

But wait!  There’s more!  Sensei Moss, who runs Action Martial Arts, had set up strobes in one of the practice rooms.  The Shin Ryu group tends to attract gadget geeks.  There were four of us with cameras.  The strobes were set to slave mode and fired every time one of used the flashes on our cameras.

I finally got the one shot I have been waiting for years to come true. A real fox in a real shrine. It might not seem like much, but after seeing the fox statues in Japanese shrines for year I have been dying to try and get a photo of a real fox under those red gates (the tori). While in Miyagi Prefecture last week, in Shiraishi Town I finally got the chance when I met a couple of very friendly foxes in a small shrine. Shot with my 50mm lens at between 50 and 100cm distance. Aren’t they just adorable? And sorry, I couldn’t help but adding that Belle & Sebastian song reference in the title.

Shinto priests waiting to bow:

With black slippers and white robes, this photo was almost monochrome to begin with.

Want to see more “waiting” photos? Click here to view thumbnails for all participants.

For more monochrome images, visit Monochrome Weekly Theme.

Within the broad pantheon of kami in Japanese Shinto, one of the most popular, if not the most popular, is a kami named Inari. In Japanese, this Kami is sometimes known as Inari no Kami (稲荷神) and is associated with commerce, rice and even as a major protector of Buddhism. Over 30,000 shrines in Japan, the largest number, are devoted to Inari alone, and Inari has a great influence in popular culture, past and present.

Inari was originally associated with rice and harvests, whom peasants made many offerings to for a successful crop, and this is still true today. Even now, you can still many, many shrines to Inari in rural areas. Larger shrines often feature a pair of fox statues at the entrance so Inari was thought by Westerners to be a god foxes. However, Inari is said to employ foxes as messengers bearing offerings, but is not a “fox god” per se. Over time Inari’s influence extended into commerce so much so that even major corporations in Japan pay homage. The cosmetic company Shiseido has a shrine to Inari at the top of its headquarters with a big red torii gate on top. Even when you go to a Japanese restaurant in the West, the popular Inari-zushi food is associated with Inari, because it was thought in the old days that foxes (messengers of Inari) liked fried tofu, and the corners of the sushi look like pointed fox-ears too.

One aspect I was not aware was Inari no Kami’s role as a protector in Buddhism especially Shingon Buddhism. According to this helpful book on Shinto, when the founder of the Shingon sect, Kūkai, was tasked with administration of the temple of Tōji in Kyoto, he selected an minor Kami named Inari as the temple protector. As stated in a previous post, this came at a time when Shinto and Buddhism blended a lot with the emphasis on protecting the State. As Tōji was one of two official temples guarding the Capitol from evil spirits, protection was paramount. Overnight the local Kami achieved greater status and veneration of Inari increased rapidly, while the home Shinto shrine, now Fushimi Inari Taisha grew into one of the most important shrines in Japan. Like another Kami named Hachiman, Inari was absorbed into Buddhism as a protector, and the role remains today. Under this role, Inari is known as a Bodhisattva named Dakiniten (荼吉尼天).

This picture from Wikipedia shows a nice example of this syncretism:

But Inari’s cultural influence extends into many facets of life, including the mundane. In the tragic autobiography of a bath-house geisha, Sayo Masuda, she talks about how rural bath-house geishas dealt with unwanted pregnancies:

Time passed, and after the flower-viewing season was over, I realized that I was pregant. Damn! What was I going to do now? I went to ask Elder Sister Karuta’s advice:

“You know, there’s nothing so pitiful as the sight of a geisha whose pregnant. You can’t dance with that big belly. What you do is go to the Inari Shrine by the station every day for twenty-one days. Vow that you will donate a lantern if you miscarry. And every day, whenever you have a chance, try jumping off the edge of the veranda.”

While heartbreaking to hear it reflects Inari no Kami’s popularity among regular Japanese, as a kind of helper for difficult times. Many stories and folktales from medieval Japan reflect Inari’s role in helping the main character get out of a bind at the right time, similar to how the Greek Goddess Athena helped heroes with difficult challenges. Both were immensely popular for this reason. I find it interesting to see how one Shinto kami, or deity in general, becomes so many things to so many people, and as Inari is not well-known in the West the same way that someone like Amaterasu is, it’s something to easily overlook when in Japan.

One thing you are bound to notice if you do any amount of traveling in Japan are the numerous statues of foxes in and around temples and shrines in Japan. They represent the kami, or sprit God, of the Japanese shinto religion. The fox kami, Inari, helps out with such things as agriculture, success, fertility, industry etc. and is therefore one of the most important kami in the Japanese pantheon. Many shrines have special places to accept offerings to these spirits and there are various traditions associated with different styles of statues, colors and postures of these fox statues. I would love to tell you more about it but I am not enough of an authority on the subject.

The main point of showing you these pictures, except for the lovely colors and the fierce look on the faces of the foxes is to prepare for my post tomorrow, which will be far more exciting, at least for me! And please forgive me for sneaking in a picture of Kotomi posing so nicely among the red tori gates at the entrance of this shrine in the west of Tokyo. I couldn’t resist it!

IF IT ISN’T UNIQUE, the Tokyo Metropolitan District is surely one of the few governments anywhere whose two top chief executives were men of letters before becoming involved with politics. Gov. Ishihara Shintaro first captured the attention of the public by publishing a spectacularly successful novel while still a university student. Vice-Governor Inose Naoki, meanwhile, made his name as a non-fiction writer.

In connection with a new book to be published later this week, Mr. Inose has distributed online an article he wrote for the 24 November 1988 edition of the weekly Shukan Spa. The article describes how and why some of Japan’s holidays were selected when the new Constitution came into effect after the war. It also explains how and why the Japanese weren’t always the ones to select the dates of those holidays.

My quick translation of most of the article follows.

*****
The Origin of Holidays and the Tenno System

Many of Japan’s holidays have a rather complicated history. Labor Day is originally associated with the Niinamesai (Harvest Festival), which is connected to the Tenno (Emperor).

Even those people for whom the name Niinamesai does not register should recall seeing on television the Tenno cutting the rice in the paddy at the Fukiage-gyoen (gardens) at the Imperial Palace. The Niinamesai is a festival to celebrate the rice harvest and offer a prayer for an abundant harvest in the coming year.

The Tenno’s rice harvest is a symbolic performance. The Tenno, whose spiritual power has been strengthened to the maximum through the Chinkonsai (Shinto service for the repose of the dead) held the previous night, conducts a ceremony at the Imperial Palace for offering the harvested grain to the divinities. The Daijosai is conducted when the new Tenno ascends the throne, and is best understood as a version of the Niinamesai on a larger scale.

The Tenno system has continued even with the changes to the Constitution after the defeat in the war and the transfer of ultimate sovereignty from the Tenno to the people. When decisions were being made on new holidays, the Niinamesai was offered as a candidate, adapted as a day to give thanks for the new harvest. The associations between the name of the holiday and the Tenno gradually grew weaker, and the holiday was established as a day to honor work, celebrate production, and to have the citizens extend their thanks to each other for the work they do.

A poem in the Man’yoshu suggests the Niiname was once a ceremony conducted in the home. The name Niiname is not to be found among the harvest festivals held throughout the country in the early modern period, however. In short, it is best considered a ceremony restored under the Meiji Tenno system.

The origin of Labor Day has not been taught in schools in the postwar period, so children think of it as a day of appreciation for their father’s daily efforts. But if that is the case, why isn’t 1 May—May Day—a holiday?

Culture Day on 3 November was known as the Meiji Setsu before the war. It is the birthday of the Meiji Tenno. During the Meiji period, it was known as Tencho Setsu (The Imperial Birthday). During the (following) Taisho period, the birthday of the Taisho Tenno was known as the Tencho Setsu, and the birthday of the Meiji Tenno was eliminated as a holiday. But the Meiji Setsu was brought back as a holiday soon after the Taisho Tenno died and the Showa period began.

Postwar decisions

The Law Regarding Citizens’ Holidays was promulgated on 20 July 1948. Of course, Japan was still an occupied nation under GHQ control. Provision was made for nine holidays at that time: New Year’s, Coming-of-Age Day, the Vernal Equinox, the Tenno’s Birthday, Constitution Day, Children’s Day, the Autumnal Equinox, Culture Day, and Labor Day. Of these, five were holidays related to the Tenno; only their names were changed. The Vernal Equinox and the Autumnal Equinox were originally known as the All Imperial Ancestors’ Day for the spring and fall respectively. The Tenno’s Birthday had been known as the Tencho Setsu. As we’ve already seen, Culture Day was the Meiji Setsu and Labor Day was the Niinamesai.

The author and politician Yamamoto Yuzo, who was a member of the upper house Culture Committee considering that legislation at the time, wrote with great sorrow the behind-the-scenes story about setting the date of Culture Day. According to his account, the committee placed the greatest emphasis on 3 November and wanted to make that Constitution Day. Their reason was that Japan’s new Constitution had been promulgated the year before on that day—3 November 1947.

As he wrote, “The Civil Information and Education Section (of GHQ) did not allow that, however. They thought 3 May would be a better choice for Constitution Day. It wasn’t long before the lower house approved 3 May as the date, making negotiations all the more difficult. But I did not give up. I thought the date the Constitution was promulgated rather than the date it came into force to be a more appropriate date. Considering the distribution of the holidays, the seasons, and the weather for each, I kept up the good fight for seven months.”

Why was GHQ so adamant? Yamamoto Yuzo explains that both the Americans and the Japanese had ulterior motives. He wanted to make the date for commemorating the Constitution the day it was promulgated rather than the day it went into force. The new Constitution was passed by the Diet and approved by the Privy Council on 29 October. He wanted the promulgation date to be 1 November and make that the holiday. But the Constitution was to come into force six months later, and that would mean it would coincide with May Day.

At that time, the United States was engaged in the Cold War with the Soviet Union and did not want the date the new Constitution came into effect to overlap with the day commemorating laborers. Therefore, GHQ ordered that 3 November be made the date of promulgation.

The next dispute arose over whether to make Constitution Day the date of promulgation or the date of effectiveness. The Japanese old guard was certain that 3 November would be the date because it was the former Meiji Setsu. But GHQ, which was trying to promote democratization, thought that should be prevented and insisted the most suitable date for Constitution Day was the day the document came into effect.

Other factors

I suspect there was perhaps one more reason that GHQ went counter to common sense and stuck to 3 May. That was the day the International Military Tribunal for the Far East—the Tokyo War Crimes Trial—held its first session in 1946. Surely they wanted the date to coincide with the first day of the ceremony that sat in judgment of militarism. They did not want anyone to ever forget the spirit of war renunciation in the new Constitution.

That’s why Constitution Day falls on 3 May, but there are also some strange circumstances involving 3 November. Culture Day was created as the result of a dispute between the Japanese forces of reform and conservative forces. Yamamoto Yuzo wrote: “Our task was to select holidays for the people, not select holidays for the Imperial Household.” This can be understood as a kind of declaration of defeat. The result of the effort to make 3 November Constitution Day was ultimately to give that day the nonsensical name of Culture Day.

In spite of Yamamoto Yuzo’s intent, Meiji Setsu survived, but ironically in a different form. In his later years, he recalled that he was criticized every year for the unfathomable day called Culture Day.

Ironically enough, 23 December, the birthday of the Kotaishi (Crown Prince—now the current Tenno), which would become a holiday sometime in the future, was the date Class A war criminal Tojo Hideki was executed.

- Inose Naoki

Afterwords: The last sentence above is the topic of Mr. Inose’s new book.