We're on 81 Vine Street, two blocks from the water front, which was remodeled during the 80's to provide the ideal outdoor experience of city living. We go for a stroll every day in the afternoon, especially now, with the weather picture perfect.
The Alaskan Way, on the water front, in Northern direction
400 meters into this (Americans are learning about meters), past Pier 69, where the Elliot Bay Trail begins.
Forks. Forks? Bear with us, we'll explain later (next post). For the time being, let's note that Forks is the most precipitous town in the continental United States, rain-wise. Precipitatous, as it were. It's perched between the Olympic Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. 150 miles to the west of Seattle. We must visit.
150 miles. That's a long drive. We must get up early and catch the 8:25 AM ferry to Bainbridge. That's the view this morning, from our apartment, of Mount Fuji Rainier.
The
Shinto Kanamara Matsuri (かなまら祭り, "Festival of the Steel Phallus") is
held each spring at the Kanayama Shrine (金山神社 Kanayama-jinja) in
Kawasaki, Japan. The phallus, as the central theme of the
event, is reflected in illustrations, candy, carved vegetables,
decorations, and a mikoshi parade. The
Kanamara Matsuri is centered around a local phallus-venerating shrine
once popular among prostitutes who prayed for protection from
sexually transmitted diseases. In addition, there are sundry protections regarding prosperity, easy delivery, and marriage harmony. There is also a
legend of a sharp-toothed demon (vagina dentata) that hid inside the
vagina of a young woman and castrated two young men on their wedding
nights. The young woman sought help from a blacksmith, who
fashioned an iron phallus to break the demon's teeth, which led to the
enshrinement of the item. The festival has become something of a tourist attraction and is used to raise money for HIV research.
We're late with this review because we're always late---plus, we're early in the sense that the movie hasn't yet been released world wide.
Unfortunately, the sound through the Delta Airline ear plugs on Flight 467 from London-Heathrow to Seattle-Tacoma is so bad that we have trouble following the plot---although, wait---now having read the flick's Wikipedia entry we're realizing we somehow did manage to follow the plot but failed to appreciate the redeeming influence of Caltech professor Kip Thorne, the only excuse for this movie ("highly accurate, the movie, scientifically, highly accurate," reviewers rave). Kip Thorne is a real physicist and knows everything about black holes and wormholes and Einstein ("gravitational waves"), and he's listed as executive producer of this sci-fi production set in the year 2060.
What is it? You normally know inside 60 seconds whether you're watching a bad movie, right? Is it because the titles stink? That's oft the case, but not now. No, its something about the Midwestern accent of Texas-born Matthew McConaughey. It's like when you drive past this sex worker and you need to look no further, there's one layer of makeup too many. There has been one script conference too many for this movie, and Christopher Nolan, the director knows, knows deep inside...
Yes, we're going to do it. We have a little feuilleton on the Grey thing. And we start with something nice, the soundtrack. This is from the soundtrack:
I'll never be your beast of burden
My back is broad but it's a hurting
All I want is for you to make love to me
I'll never be your beast of burden
I've walked for miles my feet are hurting
All I want, for you to make love to me
Am I hard enough
Am I rough enough
Am I rich enough
I'm not too blind to see
I'll never be your beast of burden
So let's go home and draw the curtains
Music on the radio
Come on baby make sweet love to me
Am I hard enough
Am I rough enough
Am I rich enough
I'm not too blind to see
Oh little sister
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, girl
Such a pretty, pretty, pretty girl
Come on baby please, please, please
I'll tell ya
You can put me out
On the street
Put me out
With no shoes on my feet
But, put me out, put me out
Put me out of misery
Yeah, all your sickness
I can suck it up
Throw it all at me
I can shrug it off
There's one thing baby
That I don't understand
You keep on telling me
I ain't your kind of man
Ain't I rough enough, ooh baby
Ain't I tough enough
Ain't I rich enough, in love enough
Ooh! Ooh! Please
I'll never be your beast of burden
I'll never be your beast of burden
Never, never, never, never, never, never, never be
I'll never be your beast of burden
I've walked for miles, my feet are hurting
All I want is for you to make love to me