In regard to the 鬼 ONI goblins of 節分 Setsubun, one of the teachers at the smallest junior high school told me that they have horns of a Bull and wear a loincloth made of a tiger’s pelt. The next day she explained why.
Yin-Yang Zodiac Compass-Clock
The Chinese Zodiac is well-integrated into Japanese culture and society, and oddly enough this is where the Bull’s horns and tiger’s pelt are involved.
In the circle of cardinal directions, North is the Mouse, East is the Rabbit, South is the Horse, and West is the Bird. In between the first two are the Bull (北北東 NNE) and Tiger (東北東 ENE). In between East and South are Dragon (東南東 ESE) and Snake (南南東 SSE). In between South and West are Sheep (南南西 SSW) and Monkey (西南西 WSW). In between West and North are Dog (西北西 WNW) and Boar (北北西 NNW).
All of these also represent two hour periods on the 24 hour clock. For instance, the Hours of the Mouse are from 23:00 to 01:00 and the Hours of the Bull are 01:00 to 03:00. It goes on clockwise from there along the cardinal circle.
ONI (goblins) come from between the cardinal directions of the Bull (北北東 NNE) and Tiger (東北東 ENE), probably because this is a harsh direction toward which to travel as you get wind and cold. Just the same, as the lesser demons come between these two Zodiac animals, so it took the horns of the Bull and the pelt of the Tiger.
The direction the goblins come from is also called 「丑三つ時」(“ushi mitsu doki” — “Time of Three Cows”) but this refers to midnight, which I can’t quite figure out. Midnight lies within the space of the hours of the Mouse.
This clock-compass comes from 陰陽道 the way of Yin and Yang, “a divination system based on the Taoist theory of the five elements” according to my Japanese-English dictionary application.
This week I’ve had another one of those experiences that touches the heart, making one of those memories that will make leaving this sort of home I’ve made for myself here more difficult. First, I put on a demon mask and got pelted with candy and beans, and then I threw a bunch of them at a drawing I specially prepared.
鬼 The mask of an ogre/goblin.
There used to be four Setsubun holidays in Japan celebrating each of the transitions from one season to the next, but nowadays most places seem to celebrate just the one on the Third of February. Some temples have festivals to go along with the holiday, but most people tend to stay home, perhaps because it’s really about driving evil spirits out of one’s house, literally and metaphorically, and bringing in good luck.
It’s on each of the Setsubun days that 鬼 no (goblins or ogres, lesser demons) and possibly other troublesome beings come out to bother the human population. Thus it becomes everyone’s prerogative to fend them off, which oddly enough is done by throwing beans at them in a tradition called 豆まき mamemaki. Generally a member of the family dresses up as an no whilst the rest pelt them with beans while shouting “Onis out! Luck in!” in a ritual to purify the homestead.
Mamemaki beans are actually roasted soybeans, and following the pelting session they are gathered up and eaten. These days they are kept in bunches in little plastic bags for the throwing and then individual consumption. One is supposed to eat a number of beans corresponding to their age plus one to ensure themselves luck for the year, a fun example of obsessive compulsion.
My favourite and small towniest junior high school is a little out of the ordinary because they actually have a little Setsubun celebration of their own, and I was lucky enough to be around when it happened.
Following my morning classes and lunch, one of the teachers handed me a simple oni-goblin mask and another gave me a light plastic baseball bat, and we all went upstairs to the common area and attacked the students in a sort of reverse haunted house kind of way. Though I think they were afraid to throw beans at me, other teachers definitely got hit while those uncostumed filmed, photographed, or sat back and observed.
Afterward, the students gathered up the thrown items for later consumption and I walked over to the elementary school for my afternoon class.
I showed up and put the mask on just before entering the staff room, giving the few people around a little chuckle, after which it was business as usual. Then, suddenly one of the sixth graders came bearing a recycled paper of A4 size folded in half, and after showing me the example of his own asked me to draw the face of an oni-goblin and below it put my “bad point” as translated by his homeroom teacher. Granted I had no clue what it would soon be used for, I used the little time before class copying the design from my mask.
My demon: Not going to bed early and getting up early.
Since the teacher didn’t seem to think it was important to discuss the class before we were in the middle of it, which she later realised, we pretty much winged it though it was just a review of the school subjects unit we had been studying. It went well, and I’m actually pretty impressed with the flexibility of the students as I challenge them to use some more grammar forms than is required by our curriculum.
Once class ended, all the students pushed their desks back and put their chairs into a semicircle facing the front, where two of them led an activity for Setsubun. Everyone’s respective papers with oni-goblin faces drawn and coloured, and personal demons written below, and each was taped to a black box. One-by-one we each introduced our demons with some background explanation, acknowledging our bad points and that we wanted to extinguish them.
In the back of the room everyone had pseudo-origami made paper baskets full of peanuts and wrapped candies. I was handed one specially prepared for me, and we all stood in a circle around the box moved from the podium-desk to the floor, where it Bullered in fear (as much as a box could) waiting for a certain onslaught. The teacher told everyone to target their demon cards, and then all hell broke loose as we screamed 「鬼はそと！」(“Oni wa soto” — “Goblins out!”) and threw our ammunition.
The aftermath of our attack on evil spirits...
In the aftermath, I stood on the floor of a classroom strewn with the battered remains of a thousand goblins and the unshelled peanuts and candies used to pummel them. To tell the truth, the papers all seemed pretty much intact as we moved onto the second stage, gathering up all the thrown items and shouting 「福は内！」(“Fuku wa chi!” — “Luck in!”) For some reason or other, being included in this odd bit of culture was quite heartwarming.
One of the tragic parts of being a diehard, almost religious fan of Apple and follower of the major rumour sites is the painfully long lead-up to their product announcements. Add on to that the fact that I live in “the future,” which seems like it would be good, except it just means that I think “Ooh, just two days left!” when it’s actually three. Could you speed things up, Steve?
This Wednesday the company is expected to announce a shiny, new object for worship, adoration, and impulse purchases in the form of a tablet something-or-other computing device. Besides the usual curing cancer and bringing about world peace, it’s supposed to come with some revolutionary new interface grown from the existing touch-based one currently used in the iPhone and on newer MacBooks.
It so happens that this coincides with a little trip of mine during which I may not have perpetual access to the “series of tubes” we call the Internet. Although, to be fair, I’m going to a place where there are Internet cafés seemingly on every street corner, where people essentially live to play StarCraft. They do have a television channel dedicated to broadcasting competitions.
It’s odd to think how someone with a MacBook and an iPhone would need this tablet. If it could functionally replace the former entirely, I’d buy it in a nanosecond, but product cannibalisation is far from Apple’s interests. What I really want is a supercharged MacBook Air, or at least one that’s cheaper and has far more storage space.
What I think is coming is one of those devices that addresses needs most consumers didn’t yet know they have. Apple’s not dumb enough to make a bigger iPhone that’s just more practical and fun for video-watching, eBook reading, casual gaming, web surfing, and e-mail even if each of those play big parts… It has to be something more.
The fifth and sixth graders at one of the elementary schools where I teach gave me some hand-made Christmas cards the last time I was there before the holidays, and the following are some of my favourites.
2010 is the year of the tiger, hence the tiger.
A bappy new year!
That holly pimp coat is pretty fabulous.
Yeah, but the tiger should be eating the reindeer.
In Japan, bells make the sound "cha-leen, cha-leen!"
Those little twerps are so damn sweet, they even sent me New Year postcards which I received on my eventual visit to the Board of Education office during the holidays. If I wasn’t so lazy, I’d send a thank you card!
Since making some pottery pieces in the form of vases and plates back in October and November, I have put them to conventional use… And some unconventional ones as well.
大根キュウリの笑顔 Daikon-cucumber happy face!
fruit, vegetables, and pottery
Each year, in late December offices and schools have a 忘年会 Forget the Year Party, usually starting at a bar-restaurant, in which members are encouraged to drink away their troubles. Usually there’s some pretty good food, too!
Carbonara with chopsticks @ Board of Education Forget the Year Party
Cheese fondue with some familiar and not so familiar skewers.
And by now as you’ve come to expect, here’s another interesting Kit Kat flavour just for Japan.
Kit Kat, now in strawberry flavour.
Happy surprises brought to me by my mother!
Xmas goodies from home... Smart wool, chocolate, and more!
My first adventure off the island for the recent holidays brought me more goodies…
A sugary Christmas present from All Nippon Airways...
A big group of us foreigners had a little Christmas Day overnight at a cabin, and brought with us…
The little gingerbread house that could, after some tinfoil innovation.
Skewers of beef and veggies for the grilling!
Candy canes first for decoration, later for consumption...
Homemade bread care of Jacob, one even made on-site!
After the overnight cabin stay, the next day Kate and the Brits and I had some lovely Thai at a restaurant in Sasebo. Danger!
Flaming Thai, and I'm talking about the food, people.
Famous locally but to my best knowledge unknown elsewhere, southwestern Japan is home to a 17th Century Dutch town theme park called Huis Ten Bosch. It possesses the artificial and grandiose qualities of Disneyland while embodying the spirit of an old European town, at least in its architecture if not so much the whole experience.
An odd sight in Japan, that's for sure.
This theme park exists not just because Japanese people have a fondness for classic European culture but mostly because of the historical ties Nagasaki has with the Dutch. Back when the country was closed off to the world, they would only trade with the Dutch and only at the port of Nagasaki. There are lingering influences from this era, and there’s another tourist sight over in Nagasaki City with more Dutch architecture called Glover Garden.
For busy Japanese people, who rarely take holidays and may not be able to afford the time and expense for a European stay, this offers something of an insulated alternative.
It is also a very typical date destination, especially during Christmastime, which I indeed found on my first visit this Christmas Eve. Lucky for me, most of my time there was spent with around fifteen other foreigners, most of them also single.
Originally the plan was to make a stop over at Sasebo to meet up with Kate and head to Huis Ten Bosch together, but her plans changed. It made more sense, in the first place, for me to just bus direct from the airport, as the theme park’s closer. Thus I arrived a couple hours early, paid the pre-5pm standard rate, and killed time with a massage and a stroll.
I threw my bag in a locker at the entrance, and put myself at the mercy of the information desk who were helpful enough to book me a massage at a spa across the theme park and escort me to the pseudo trolley-bus that would get me there in time. Having done basically zero research on the place, I was pretty much clueless about its layout. Thankfully, the staff were quite helpful.
Despite the pomp atmosphere of the place (“You need a reservation!”) at little surprise the RIN Wellness Spa was empty when I arrived and they proceeded to sell me up to a longer massage.
Once things were settled, it wasn’t but a couple minutes before my masseuse guided me upstairs. At the top of the stairs I removed my shoes, which she put into one of the many open lockers, and the next room left no question that this was a luxury spa. The tall-ceiling, narrow hallway with dark wood floors set locker rooms on the right and to the left, comfortable seating accented with glass panels flowers all symmetrically aligned in a very chic-modern style.
Proceeding a brief interview about injuries and preferences, I changed clothes in the empty locker room, putting on my towel-cloth robe. The masseuse led me into our room, and on the way through the glass walls I could see the post-service lounge overlooking the pool.
The massage service left something to be desired. The technique was flowing and soothing, artistic more than mechanical, but despite the fact that I asked for a strong hand to work out the knots it remained too soft. This is pretty much why I’ve sworn off Japanese masseuses in favour of my favourite little inexpensive Chinese reflexology venue in Fukuoka.
Following my exit of the spa, I casually strolled back toward the theme park’s entrance (Breukelen) to meet up with my friends arriving in time for dinner, one main point of the excursion. I stopped to snap some photos of the stationary ship in the marina, the tower, parts of the canals, as well as the flowers and windmills next to them.
Ship and buildings near Hotel Europe.
The Huis Ten Bosch tower.
Street signs in Huis Ten Bosch.
Huis Ten Bosch is famous for viewing tulips in the Spring, but obviously they weren’t around this time.
We strolled back from the entrance to the area called Nieuwstad, where we ate at Cheese Waag. Upstairs from the cheese shop was an expansive room with long wood tables, one set up to accommodate our large group.
Dinner at Cheese Waag... Fondue!
Our whole group opted for the fondue sets, though some of us also ordered discs of fried cheese and pastas for sides. The poor waiter who took our orders looked positively terrified to deal with so many foreigners, though we ordered in Japanese.
The food wasn’t mind-blowing, but it was great to indulge in cheese when normally the affordable selection in Japan comes down to these: Camembert, cream cheese, shredded plastic-like mozzarella, and powdered parmesan.
Fried cheese and cheese fondue.
Upon our exit, dusk had fallen and we strolled right across the street into the Chocolate House shop featuring a fountain of melted chocolate pouring down the wall. Sadly, it appeared to be just for decoration. At least there was this:
Chocolate GODZILLA!
From then, we went shopping in the plaza of Binnestad, stocking up on tasty beverages for our Christmas Day party at a cabin and indulging further in gelato. Along with one more amusing option, I found what claimed to be a peach-flavoured 日本酒 nihonshu (the type of alcohol referred to abroad as saké) that looked pretty in the bottle in its pink colour but more like pepto-bismol once poured. Regretfully the chocolate chip gelato I bought next was not as flavourful as the cassis berry ice cream some others ordered. I also picked up a variety pack of cheese from another shop stocked with smoked something-or-other, one I think is a goat cheese, some fresh parmesan, cream cheese, and blue cheese.
An annoyingly emphatic blonde woman singer started the stage show in the plaza, singing familiar Christmas songs. The performance significantly improved with the next numbers featuring other singers and dancers, notably three cute guys and a couple black women that rocked out some non-Christmas tunes as well. My friends shoved me over to the cutest of the guys when they came out to high-five the crowd; I have to admit it was a bit of a thrill.
Stage show in Binnestad.
Afterward there was the nightly fireworks show over the marina back in the area where my spa was located. The fact that they set these off every night is probably contributing to the theme park’s impending shutdown this year, and i was told this is its third bankruptcy.
That pretty much rounds out my Christmas Eve. The park closed shortly after the fireworks so we all said our goodbyes and I headed home with Kate and a couple others to stay up late watching videos and preparing for the next day’s excursion.
In lieu of being bored out of my mind on the island leading up to this year’s Mid-Year Conference, I took a day or two off to have a long weekend to travel and visited Osaka for the first time. Everyone I knew was busy or staying put, so despite my aversion to the idea since I’m quite introverted when dealing with strangers, I decided to take the trip on my own… And despite some social interaction it turned out to be one of the loneliest experiences of my life, though not a bad trip.
A street vendor just outside Dobutsuen-Mae Station. Note the cat.
Flights were expensive at the time, so I opted for the normally more expensive shinkansen (bullet train) both ways, which I’d never ridden before. It was pleasant, not so special, but a nice way to avoid airport security although that’s pretty much a breeze in Japan anyway.
On the way over I was treated to something special. The train must have been a newer one, for even the second class unreserved seat cars had standard power plugs available for use. Since I was carrying my laptop at the time, I used the three hour trip to finalise and practice my presentation; it could’ve only been better if there were free wifi service.
Many seats were open as well, so I was able to stretch my legs and relax with my luggage spread around a bit.
The shinkansen, like the special limited express trains I’ve ridden before, had a aeroplane cabin crew-like pushcart service for food and snacks that came by twice during the trip. Though I usually think ahead to bring cheaper items, lacking a liquid this time I actually paid for a bottled water.
Lining the way until we passed over to Honshu I was surprised at the number of tunnels the train went through. Tsushima and southern Kyushu certainly have quite a few mountains, but I didn’t realise the north was also so covered.
It was on Halloween and Saturday evening that I arrived and checked into Hotel Taiyo, which really sits somewhere between a capsule hotel and a normal business hotel. The all-private rooms are just trimmed down business hotel rooms without individual restrooms, so it’s a slight step up from the dorm-style hostels that are more common. The bonuses include traditional Japanese-style baths and secondarily the English-speaking staff and tourist materials on hand.
Plenty big enough for me, and with high-speed Internet access!
Jyan Jyan Yokocho, or The Alley That Never Stops.
Amusingly and interestingly, the population around the district that’s also home to the city zoo seems to mostly consist of 50s+ gentlemen that don’t look very genteel.
Across the street is ジャンジャン横丁 Jyan Jyan Yokocho (The Alley That Never Stops), an apparently famous slash historical slash touristy restaurant lane serving up batter-fried skewers called 串焼き kushi-yaki in Japanese, where I had my first Osaka dinner. Not just the restaurants, the several blocks running alley also had several full venues where many of those old men were playing 将棋 Shōgi (Japanese Chess) and 碁 Go.
There were several of these places, all pretty much full of people!
In Japan, a good dinner out always starts with beer.
In a very typical fashion, walls lined with the menu.
Pumpkin, shitake mushroom, cheese, egg, and roast ham.
After returning to the hotel for a disco nap thus began my very confusing adventure in the massive Umeda Station and trying to find my way to the district close but nonetheless quite difficult to reach. I might not even have made it there without the help of iPhone GPS, for it might be a bit too indiscreet to ask too specifically at a police box. Eventually, after passing by a group of young Japanese party-goers who were to my surprise actually dressed up in costume for Halloween, I managed to get to my first destination.
Plenty of foreigners populated the friendly bar called Physique Pride, above the underground club Explosion where all the young skinny things were watching the drag show and other stage performances. After chatting up the bar’s owner and some other people, craving the dance I went down there to find the crowd fairly unfriendly and the show less than impressive. All I can say for that is that if you’re gonna show your legs, at least care to shave properly.
On the plus side, I did discover a new song in the form of a remix of a new tune off of Whitney Houston’s recent release. Million Dollar Bill (Freemasons Radio Edit) is the one.
A rainy day came and I paid a visit to Osaka Castle, probably the best known sight and monument to Japan’s history in the city. A giant moat surrounding its interior plaza, it reminded me more of the Imperial Palace of Tokyo rather than the former one in Kyoto.
On the way up I strolled through the park from the subway station recommended by the hotel staff, and before it began to drizzle I sat and enjoyed watching a sport quite new to me but rather similar to skateboarding and roller-skating. Instead of skates, the people were skating around on two small boards for each foot. It looked positively challenging at very high chances of resulting in injury, but the guy I watched glided around the large plaza fountain at what looked like great ease.
As I walked up to the castle itself, next to the steps leading up from the larger lower park area I noticed the iconic blue tents of the homeless of Japan. Later I read an article either in the Kansai Scene foreigner rag or on the BBC web site that explained they have quite the community set up there, an association in fact. They pay in 1000 yen per month for rice and cooking grass and have a little land for farming. Members are supposed to find jobs and move out after three months if they can.
The rain got steadier so I bought an umbrella at the restaurant kiosk across from the main gate up to the castle and visited the next-door Hokoku Shrine. A stunningly detailed statue of very important historical figure Toyotomi Hideyoshi joined in front of the shrine’s gate joined a beautiful Japanese maple and nearby a rather interesting flower I have yet to identify.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi in intricate detail.
紅葉/神社 Maple/Shrine
What are these flowers called?
The Osaka Castle area has no shortage of greenery and flowers as one might expect. On either side of the outer gate were two huge pots of bright flowers, while gazing down into the moat provided a beautiful scene of vines covering where the water used to be, also creeping up the massive stone walls.
At the time of my visit a chrysanthemum flower festival was being held, or rather said official flower of the Emperor was on display in purples, whites, and yellows in the inner plaza before the castle tower. Nearby stood also a set of beautiful flowering bonsai plants.
Greenery and Stone
Mass of flowers
The chrysanthemum is the symbol of the Emperor of Japan
A selection of stunning bonsai.
The tower’s interior was buzzing with people, offering unsurprisingly a host of historical information, artwork, and equipment from Japan’s history as well as an observation viewpoint on the top floor. Signs recommended first venturing to the top floor and experiencing the place progressively downward, but I didn’t notice this until the third floor and thus had a mixed run.
Most interesting to me were the armours and the large folding screen artworks painted not just with gold leaf, to be viewed from right-to-left. A couple floors presented a chronological biography of Toyotomi Hideyoshi and other crucial political and military leaders, parts in text, artwork, audio, and dramatic recreations.
Osaka Castle, even accessible by wheelchair.
Shopping in Osaka was strange, though now I realise I should have expected the selection in the Umeda district around Osaka station to be the most expensive like Ginza is in Tokyo. It took me forever to find the Starbucks I needed to refuel myself for hours of strolling around looking for deals, while I was disappointed by the clear lack of sales around at the time. To my luck, despite the long line of customers the sales attendant handing out menus was kind enough to acquire me a table while I waited so I could actually take a seat and a breather.
In the need for some we business clothes in general and especially for the conference where I was set to present a few days later, I settled on getting some rather expensive slacks from a UK designer’s shop. Unfortunately, it was not until later when I visited Muji that I realised the much cooler version of Gap actually has a decent selection of business-wear in Osaka.
In the face of retail starvation having only occasional shopping trips to Fukuoka, the Hep Five and Hankyu Men’s shopping malls were like gentle rainstorms of disco glitter, kittens, and rainbows. Very pretty, very expensive rainbows. Most things were just too much for me, but I did find a reasonable and wonderful Japanese boutique with the German name Schlüssel (key) that I will definitely be visiting in the future.
Another day I also paid a visit to the shopping lanes around Namba in the southern area of the city. Here and there were interesting things, and I believe it was there that I picked up a glorious new trendy briefcase-like man-bag that also inconspicuously providing a protective area for one’s laptop.
I was only perhaps happier about discovering a ramen kiosk down the street to finally satisfy my craving. A single employee served up ramen as fast as he could to the hungry onlookers standing outside, after customers purchased a ticket for one of two menu choices from the nearby machine.
Aside from the 串焼き fried skewers, I tried the popular local food of たこ焼き fried octopus dumplings at the famous little shop in 心斎橋 Shinsaibashi recommended to me by a friend and fellow current English teacher who lived there for a year. They take some time to cool down, but topped with mayonnaise and ponzu sauce are quite decadent and delicious. I had a little trouble finding my way there, but a quick stop in the local Apple Store provided me some help and I got to play with a Magic Mouse too.
Fried octopus dumplings, another famous Osaka food.
Despite the big shopping available in the Umeda area and a few subway lines extending around the city, Osaka felt a lot smaller than I expected it to in comparison to Tokyo, although things don’t really ever get bigger than that mammoth of a place. Nonetheless it didn’t feel that much bigger to me than Fukuoka. I’d like to come back to explore more, this time with friends.
Just before I left Osaka, I paid a visit to the Liberty Human Rights Museum that I’m saving to cover in-depth in another entry.
The police came to my door one Saturday afternoon recently supposedly because they were doing a survey of the whole neighbourhood to keep track of who’s what where, and interrogated me on my business and activities in Japan. Even though I carry a foreigner registration card and thus am registered with the city as a resident, somehow this was necessary, and they needed my birthdate and employer information to boot.
Japanese police are nice. They are not like scary U.S. peacekeepers. Out exploring in Tokyo a few times I’ve gone to a local police box to ask for directions and they were nothing but polite and helpful, not just because that’s pretty much what they’re there to do. They were also polite during this occurrence, I was just off-set by the intrusiveness of it all.
Suddenly I’ve gotten a viewpoint into how scary it could be to deal with the police in the U.S. as a foreigner. One’s really got to know one’s rights and the bounds of acceptable behaviour. Yet in an effort to prevent a loss of face or a problem with the police, I freely gave away information, though I should say the chances of someone faking the situation seem exceedingly slim especially in a place like this. Still, I didn’t like telling them.
In other news, the sign in town counting the days since the last traffic-caused death reset recently. After asking around I heard from a local that a motorbike driver crashed and died, but that no one else was involved.
That’s approximately how I would describe the little community of drunken males within I have become something of a fixture by my abundance of free time, lack of creativity to do else-wise, and a bizarre need for social acceptance. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy the time spent, for more often than not it’s at the very least entertaining!
In striking contrast to most of last year’s weekend practices, I have gotten a picture into what my life would have been like if I had been a stereotypical party jock in senior high school. Not that poker is really related, I suppose that’s more stereotypical 30s-40s married-with-children guy, but there have been poker night drinking parties, poker nights that quickly devolved into a glass-breaking wrestling match (which I mostly steer clear of), and several occasions wherein those who fall asleep first end up with expletives and/or genitalia drawn onto their exposed skin.
Since the first time one of the pack insisted he could run a five minute mile a little over a month ago, there have been quite an alarming number of re-occurrences of the exact same conversation:
[Occassional Pre-Emptive Ridicule -] Boast – Judgement in the Negative – Promise of Proof by Demonstration – Naming of Statistics from Thin Air – Googling Statistics – Pointing Out Records – Ridicule – Profession of Insistence – Sardonic Suggestion for Proof – Promise of Proof by Demonstration After Weeks of Preparation – Reasonable Doubt – Requests for Immediate Proof – Judgement in the Negative – Profession of Insistence – …
Sometimes this occurs several times over the period of an hour. Sometime the debate drags on for hours. Sometimes it is sparked up again with a Facebook comment. I don’t know how to describe it, but behind the boasts, insults, and retorts, there must be some telepathic chemical reaction going on between these alpha and pseudo-alpha and alpha-when-provoked males to which I’m largely immune (at least until you challenge my technical knowledge or fashion sense).
