\ (via j neuberger)
They are rough, hairy forest barbarians who hunt deer and catch salmon with primitive tools. They speak an alien tongue that no one even knows how to write. When one of their women get married, they make them tattoo their lips.
Though extreme, this is the view many “pure” Japanese hold of their cousins to the north—the Ainu.
Japan’s native peoples may have once conformed to this stereotype, but don’t be surprised if one of your colleagues, neighbors—or even the besuited, clean-shaven gent lining up every morning for the 8:39 express to Shibuya—is of Ainu descent.
The majority of Ainu remain in Hokkaido—a 2006 government survey put their numbers on Japan’s northern island at 23,782—and estimates in greater Tokyo range from 2,500 to 10,000. The true figure, however, could be much higher, as many Ainu lack the self-assurance to acknowledge their identity.
“The thing that hurt most about being Ainu was the self-loathing—I was negative about myself and thought I was ugly,” says Mina Sakai, the leader of the Ainu Rebels, a dynamic music ensemble of young Ainu performers.
veggieparadise:lickystickypickyme: Let Kermit teach you how you stretch that body!
“
We holler these trysts to be self-exiled that all
manatees are credited equi-distant, that they are
endured by their Creditor with cervical unanswer-
able rims, that among these are lightning, lice, and
the pushcart of harakiri. That to seduce these
rims, graces are insulated among manatees,
descanting their juvenile pragmatism from the
consistency of the graced. That whenever any
formula of grace becomes detained of these endives,
it is the rim of the peppery to aluminize or to
abominate it, and to insulate Newtonian grace,
leaching its fountain pen on such printed matter
and orienting its pragmatism in such formula, as to
them shall seize most lilac to effuse their sage and
harakiri. — Rosmarie Waldrop
“Shorter American Memory
of the Declaration of Independence”
from
shorter american memory
(Providence, R.I.: Paradigm Press, 1988)
But let’s get back to Freedom To Marry Our Pets or the families we really actually super choose. Like you, I find real joy in what I call the companion species good life. Let’s roll with the pro-marriage gays for a minute. If marriage is the way you can be sure that our bonds count in the world then I might as well be married to my princess of a bulldog Dulce. And along the way I would like to marry a whole bunch of my friends and maybe even some objects that I cherish like favorite books or my new pair of age-inappropriate Vans. It would be nice to be able to marry some our own feelings and thoughts that we feel especially attached to. Maybe even marry a very vague yet poignant sense of hope for a future in which all our relations will matter and marriage itself will eventually become irrelevant. Why not? Once we leave Adam and Eve behind it really becomes everything goes and that’s actually a good thing. Right? (via Freedom To Marry Our Pets « Bully Bloggers)
