Wall Art Pt.1

We like our house, but the walls have gotten rather dirty right around little kid height, if you know what I mean. I'm kind of a clean freak, but I've learned to live with a certain level of mess, because there's just no way to have a perfectly tidy house with six kids (half of them being teenagers, half being little).

People are more important than stuff.

So my wife and I thought we'd just wait a few more years until the little ones were old enough to not run around smearing their grubby paws across the white walls, and then we'd repaint the walls. But a friend of ours, who just happens to be an artist, decided to do something different. He decided to take those crayon and pen scribbles on the walls and turn them into wall art! There was one particular section of wall that had a long zig-zag scribble on it. Our friend looked at it and said to the girls, "You know what that is? That's a dragon's tail."

The girls were hooked. They just sat and watched him transform a dirty, scribbled wall, into a work of art. Check out the transformation!

Whaaa! What's up with that head?

Look at the door! Yeah, our kids are wild.

I'll update here when the castle is finished!

Until next time, live...and love!

(mr)

Summer Reset

Something happened to our blog and all the images got deleted or something. I think it was when I got my new phone, which was, because it's an Android, automatically linked to my Google account. Somehow I messed things up here, so I've decided to stick to a simpler design. This'll do.

Why are you taking over my life?!

We've had an amazing summer here! Sure, we had our hot days, but overall, it was cooler than most summers, which just thrilled us. And now we're almost in October, and the weather is perfect every day.

The Mrs. is 27 weeks pregnant, and we're expecting our seventh child (a boy!) around Christmastime. After six daughters -- to finally have a son? Yeah. Surreal. Everyone in the family is excited and can't wait to spoil the little prince absolutely rotten.

Isn't she lovely?

The Mrs. and I spent most of the summer alone, which is unusual, since we usually hang out with friends a lot. But this summer we just needed time alone -- and that's what we got! A perfect summer of love, sharing, and happiness. As Jane Eyre says, "as gay as in company, as free as in solitude". That is the idyllic life I share with my darling.

Until next time, live ... and love!

(mr)

Sumida River Walkabout

EDIT: Sorry so many of the photos got deleted.

The other day, because the weather was so fine and we wanted to spend the day together out and about, my darling wife and I took a walk through Tokyo, starting in the bay and working our way up one of the cities major rivers into the heart of what was once the old fishing villages of Edo. On the advice of my photographer friend, I recently got a 50mm lens for my Canon EOS 20D. I love taking pictures, but it's strictly a casual hobby, so I'm not claiming to be the best or even good at this or anything. Anyway, here are some moments I caught. (Some of these images have been cropped to fit what I wanted.)

Lovely even on a 10-mile walk

The spring flowers in Tokyo are amazing

On an artificial beach in the middle of Tokyo Bay

In the bay -- built by the Shogun to stop foreign ships

The gun batteries on the island

This bridge has a long, technical, boring name -- we call it Rainbow Bridge

More blossoms, of a different variety

We walked across Rainbow Bridge

One of many old noble gardens converted into national parks

Along the Sumida River

He flew right over my head

We stopped for sushi in the old fish market

Me

Not common for modern Japan -- even the natives were surprised

The end of our journey - the Thunder Gate of Sensouji (Asakusa Temple)

What is domination?

Domination. 

It is a word that I see more and more often in the romance genre, but rarely do I see it actually illustrated or taken to its logical end.

Do not mistake me. I am not objecting to the concept. I fully understand the appeal. The ultra-masculine “alpha” qualities possessed by “Dom” heroes are attractive ones, from the supreme confidence to the protectiveness to the possessiveness, and due to the growing popularity of the BDSM sub-genre, it is clear that I am not the only one to find the domination appealing.

But they always pull their punches.

This is not to say that there are not graphic depictions of all sorts and levels of Dom/sub relationships, but I have never read any that actually portrays the final step, the ultimate in domination. There are all sorts of stories about collaring, about sadomasochism, about spanking, even about Total Power Exchange (which is where the Dom assumes all authority over the sub). But never the ultimate.

And what is that? Impregnation.

Those artists and their fanciful renditions!

Oh, there are stories where the heroine gets pregnant, even stories where she gets pregnant accidentally, it not having been planned but by the failure/forgetting of some sort of birth prevention. But I have never read any story wherein the hero simply chose to impregnate the heroine and did so, without asking and/or begging her first.

How manly...where can I get one?

But “her body, her choice”! But “feminism”! But – but nothing. The whole point of the Dom/sub relationship is that the sub's body belongs to the Dom. He is the one who chooses what sorts of pleasure she receives and when. Often the Dom will even forbid the sub to wear clothing (in private) because he wants to see that body, which is his. 

So why does this boundary not get crossed, not even in a sub-genre devoted to pushing and crossing boundaries?

It is ingrained now in the modern psyche that the decision to have a child is entirely the woman's, with the man having no say. This is due both to the ubiquity of contraception, both male and female, and to the existence of legalized abortion. Even if a man managed to impregnate a woman, despite her contraceptive use, she could simply abort the child. Pregnancy is the woman's decision to make, and even a Dom, it seems, cannot get past that. A Dom can call his sub “pet”, can put a collar around her neck and call her his property, can choose what clothing she wears – or even if she wears any at all. He can physically discipline her. But he cannot impregnate her?

Yeah, good luck finding that picture.

Well. 

I do not have a Dom/sub relationship with my husband. It's too much trouble, and I'm not into pain. But, to be honest, he is a dominating sort of man. And in my world, the world of a devout Catholic, neither abortion nor contraception shows up. At all.

What can I say? He got me pregnant – again. He has taken that step of ultimate domination, has shown his authority over my body by forcing me to bear his seed. So Baby #7 is on the way! And, by the way, I am delighted. I enjoy my husband's masculinity, his authority, his power, and the fact that he has these things does not in any way diminish me. I rejoice in his Kingship, and it makes me a Queen.

Can I please read a Dom/sub story wherein the hero shows this ultimate dominion? I would love to read one.

(mrs)

Gods above and below...please don't let me be weak!!

I am a woman. I do not usually like to draw attention to this fact on my blog, as it rarely seems pertinent to what I am discussing. This time, however, though it oughtn't to make a difference, it does.

I am beginning to wonder if many women now are … stupid. Why would I write something like this? And why would my own sex matter?

To answer the second question first, my sex matters because if I were a male, my words would be dismissed as those of a misogynist – and that without taking into consideration if I might have a point. Were I a man, my words would be dismissed unheard because of my sex. Ironic?

You have facial hair. Your argument is invalid.

As for why I would write this, it is because after one “maverick” heroine too many, I burst out in this diatribe. The heroines I see in fiction today are what make me suspect the stupidity of women. Not because the heroines themselves are stupid – they never are – but because of the attitudes held not only by the characters but presumably also by the readers who continue to purchase the books.

These heroines are always supposedly both “strong” and “independent”, needing no one's approval and doing exactly as they please. This is, also supposedly, what makes them “strong”. However, there is always one thing that the heroines seem to dread above all others: being perceived as weak. Surely that is all right, though?

Not exactly. Fearing being thought weak is … weak. If I care whether or not I am thought “weak”, if I adjust my behavior to avoid being thought weak by others, then I am weak, altering my actions to take account of others' opinions.

You're welcome.

This is without taking account of the definition of “strong” as “doing what I please”. Really? It's strong to do what I feel like doing? To seek my own desire ahead of anything else? Is that not the default of humans? Being selfish is not the same as being strong, and oftentimes the more difficult action, the one that would require more strength, is the sacrificial one, the one that places another ahead of oneself. But because selflessness has been accounted, rightly or wrongly, a feminine quality, it is now equally dismissed as “weak”. (This opens another whole issue, that of why feminine=weak in the minds of women, but that is a blog for another day.)

I cannot get away from the fact that fearing others' opinions, even if the opinion one fears is that of being considered weak, is weak. How is that the women reading these stories do not see this? What quality in their minds prevents them from seeing what is otherwise so evident?

However, in fairness, I must acknowledge that I don't know if men notice this, either. I dread the conclusions I must draw if no one can actually see an inherent contradiction.

“Just as one generation could prevent the very existence of the next generation, by all entering a monastery or jumping into the sea, so one set of thinkers can in some degree prevent further thinking by teaching the next generation that there is no validity in any human thought.” – G.K. Chesterton

Have we gone so far as this?

(mrs)

Sakura and No Future

We live in Japan, and we have six children. These two facts are unusual for two reasons: (1) we're not Japanese, and (2) six children in one family is unheard of here.

When people see us out and about with all the kids, people actually come up to us and ask if they're all ours. "No, we picked this one up in the supermarket parking lot, and this one just followed us home one day," we sometimes joke. But the old ladies asking us just blink. I guess it's an American joke, as the natives call it.

But the fact that Japanese--who are not given to talking to strangers, especially foreigners--stop to talk to us about our children is a pretty strong indicator that we're doing something rather strange. That is, having children. Lots of them.

I know that birth rates are declining all over the world in industrialized countries, but in Japan, it takes on a whole new quality. After all, the Japanese have no desire to open their borders to massive immigration, but they are also equally averse to having more children.

So they're kind of stuck. And they're not sure what to do about it. One thing the government does is try to entice its citizenry to have more babies by doling out a child-welfare allowance every four months. It's great for my family -- we collect quite a bit over the course of a year, but it's not really meant for us, is it? And the Japanese aren't taking the bait.

I asked my students what they think should be done about the population crisis looming. They said they didn't know. From where I sit, there are only two solutions: have more babies (iyada), or allow for massive immigration (iyada). Iyada means "no" or "I hate that idea" in Japanese. They can't both be iyada; you have to solve the problem somehow.

And that's when my students let me know what they really think: babies are expensive and troublesome, so the government should do more to help us take care of them. More free money etc etc. I laughed nervously, assuming they were joking, but when no one shared my mirth, my heart sank. They were serious.

The sakura might be the most beautiful thing about Japan. I love going out with family and friends in the spring, sitting in the park, and looking up at the blossoms spreading on black branches across the clear sky. I go twice: the first time when the sakura have just bloomed and the second time when they've begun to fall. I sit on a mat and let the pink rain flutter down around me. Listening to the squealing of children as they chase the blossoms, trying to catch them. 

Children. Fewer of them every year.

They are the sakura. Or, rather, Japan is. When the trees are in bloom, they are the most beautiful sight -- breathtaking even from a crowded commuter train as you look out over the city. For two weeks, Tokyo is transformed. And then the sakura fall, and the long month of May stretches before you with no cherries in sight.

The trees have been designed that way -- non-fruit bearing cherry trees. Then they're not really cherry trees, are they? You could argue that they indeed are, but the sakura certainly have no future. They die, and all too soon.

The natural fruit of a marriage is children, and without them, a marriage, though valid and strong and good, is not what it could be. This is why we pity the childless, why we go to such lengths to help women conceive when they can't. The fertility rate of the Japanese female is 1.1, the lowest in the world. And it's not because the women have trouble conceiving; it's because they're either just not or they're toddling down to the clinic to remove the unwanted inconvenience growing inside them.

I'm not here to preach about abortion or contraception; I'm just pointing out the facts. Japan is running out of people.

Fruitless marriages, and the nation now faces a crisis.

2012 saw the biggest population plunge on record: 284,000. There were only a million babies born in Japan in 2012 (and that stat includes foreigners'). With no children, Japan just keeps getting older. The elderly now outnumber children aged 14 and under.

No fruit. No future.

Our branches grow barer each year, and soon the tree will stand unflowering.

(mr)

It's All Right -- He's a Wolf!

Werewolves. They are everywhere. Vampires are still around, of course, but it seems like werewolves and the other were-creatures are ubiquitous. I edit more “shifter” (werewolf or weretiger or were-something) romances than probably any other single sub-genre, and they show no sign of slowing down.

I am not complaining. I like paranormals, and I have no quarrel with the concept. What I have found curious is why such stories are so common. Authors continue to write them because readers continue to read them. What is it about this particular take on the romance genre that has taken such a deep hold?

Because we're awesome?

I got my first hint when I read a review of one particular non-werewolf story wherein the reviewer complained of the hero's possessiveness and dominating nature. To paraphrase, the reviewer stated that it wasn't as if the hero were a werewolf or something to make his claiming of the heroine palatable. 

That put me on the track, and I have, I am convinced, found the source and fountainhead of the appeal of the shifter story (and a lot of these things apply to the vampires, too). 

A werewolf, or whatever type of shifter, is expected to have several qualities, and, across the board, they do. 

They are physically strong. This is not that remarkable, as this is common to romance heroes, but their physical strength far surpasses that of the heroine – and the heroine does not mind. Furthermore, the hero has a protective streak, which does not, somehow, irk the heroine. 

They are dominating and demanding. They want the heroine to belong to them only. “You are mine” is a common refrain among shifter heroes. They want to claim the heroine as their one-and-only “mate”. This does not bother the heroines, either. It is part of the werewolf's natural “mating” instinct. He scents his mate, and he claims her for his own. There are no ifs, ands, or buts, and though the heroine is often given a chance to refuse the hero, he gives this chance with the inner caveat that he has no intention of giving her up. If she refuses him, he will simply pursue her further.

Yes, yes. You can get away with it, too.

But you are from a backward, barbarian culture.

They are perfectly loyal. They tell the heroines that they will love her and her alone, for their whole lives long, that there is no other woman for them. And the heroines believe them. 

None of these things would fly if the heroes were just ordinary men. Physically stronger than the heroine might be permitted, but it would certainly not be allowed to come to the fore. It cannot be emphasized too heavily. In shifter stories, the hero's superiority in physical strength is not glossed over. It is reveled in. All this strength does not threaten her, though it can give her a pleasurable frisson during lovemaking. No, because the hero is a werewolf, his strength does not diminish hers. Furthermore, his desire to protect is accepted as one would accept an animal's perceived need to protect its mate. It does not say to the heroine that he considers her weak; it says to her that he considers her precious. This is not permitted to an “ordinary” hero. 

As for dominating and demanding – outside of BDSM, these things are straight up not allowed. (And BDSM is an interesting comparison to shifters to be explored later in this blog.) A hero who is demanding, who requires that the heroine “belong” to him, that she be his and his only in so many words, is not acceptable. The hackles on the readers would rise, and the book would be panned.

The loyalty of a werewolf hero is never in question. He is bonded to his mate, with some sort of natural and/or mystical attachment that nothing can break. Human heroes have to go through a lot to prove that they are loyal, that they can be trusted, because the default mode for the heroines is to assume that men are untrustworthy.

All of these qualities are, obviously, ones that the readers find attractive, or else they would not read the books. But these same qualities raise feminist alarms if they appear in men. In paranormal beings, these qualities are acceptable because by acknowledging the strength of a paranormal hero, the heroine does not lessen herself.

Do whatever you want to, baby! You're paranormal!

Apparently, by acknowledging such strength in an “ordinary” hero, she does. 

This brings us to the BDSM sub-genre.* I see a lot of this genre, too, and I find it curious that many of the same qualities as belong to the shifter heroes appear in the “Dom” heroes, but again, because this passes as part of an established sexual practice, it is all right. Over and over, “the sub has all the real power in the relationship” is pounded into the reader. In other words, the reader is assured that the heroine is not becoming weak by becoming a sub. 

It seems that there is in most modern readers a feminist streak that will leap on anything that might possibly be construed as making the hero the heroine's superior in any way, even the most superficial physical ways, or that will lash out at the slightest hint of control from the hero. But equally, it seems that these dominating, ultra-masculine qualities do appeal to these same readers. It is what they seem to want their men to be, but cannot admit this without the paranormal veneer. The competition between the sexes is too tense. 

This concerns me, societally speaking. What good is a feminism that will not allow a woman to admit to what she actually wants? 


*I am not addressing actual BDSM practices, as genuine BDSM is quite rare in romances. What you find instead is a layman's guess about what it is like, and the image is all that matters for the story. This pseudo-BDSM, where spanking and wearing a collar are the primary characteristics of the relationship, is what is common.

(mrs)