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Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Irezumi

So prompted by a friend’s question into Irezumi, I am now pushed to write, and try my best to use my little knowledge of this. Now one has to see that the idea that permanent designs could be scarred on to the skin had occurred to many civilizations in different stages of their development. Notable among them was Japan, with its rich heritage of body art, known as irezumi. Those who know me have seen my two tattoos, a Kanji snake on my shoulder, and Om on my back. Now not as elaborate as irezumi, it represents to me the two halves of who I am.

So, doing some research and going through some old books I owned, here’s my small synopsis of the origin of irezumi.

Irezumi is not just art or design in Japan - it truly is a way of life. The hothouse atmosphere of the country, which for centuries was sealed from foreign influences for many centuries, allowed irezumi to develop in a unique way that seems at once bizarre and fascinating to the outside world. Embarking upon irezumi is a serious business and requires a great deal of planning. The work is executed by trained experts known as horishi. Within Japan today, there are perhaps a hundred recognized practitioners of the art. Horishi is often referred to as Sensei (Master), and indeed, he is master of all the ceremony attending the procedure.

You can't just walk into a horishi's parlor and ask to get yourself tattooed. You have to come through proper channels and seek a `first appointment', during which the master will study you and consider whether you deserve to get irezumi or not. After you have passed the initial examination and the horishi has consented to embellish you with his art. The recipient's opinion on the choice of design is taken into consideration, but the ultimate selection lie in the hands of the horishi, who will decide on one from a collection of books, all hand-drawn by the horishi from traditional sources. A number of sessions follow, depending on the intricacy of the design and how much area has to be covered. Completing an irezumi can take several years, during which the client goes back every week or whenever he has enough money to get a little more of the design done. Over the years, a relationship gradually develops between the horishi and the client, and the latter often comes back to visit and to present their horishi with gifts on special occasions long after their irezumi is finished. It is notable that once the job is completed, there is less of a belief that the client owns the tattoo and more of a presumption that the client has become a piece of the horishi's artwork.

Probably because of this, horishis are careful about who they choose to tattoo.
The earliest record of tattooing in Japan goes back to 500 BC, but the procedure in those days was hardly art. In a country where social ostracism was the worst form of punishment, tattoos were used to mark criminals. People found guilty of their third offence in some parts of northern Kyushu, for example, had the word inu (dog) emblazoned on their foreheads. In southern Kyushu, criminals were tattooed on their left shoulder, in Kyoto, a double bar was scarred into the upper arm and in Nara, and a double line encircled the biceps. It was in the Edo period (1600-1868) that tattooing flourished, along with geisha, puppet theatre, kabuki, pleasure quarters and bathhouses. Criminal tattooing moved to a higher plane and began to take on an artistic overtone during this era. It was no longer associated with crime, and branded criminals were free to camouflage their marks with elaborate artwork surrounding them. The tattoo artists worked on prostitutes, actors, laborers and people from the lower working classes. Prostitutes in the pleasure quarters, and even some geisha, would have themselves tattooed to attract customers or to ingratiate themselves with their highest-paying customers by having their names tattooed on their inner arm. It was fashionable is some areas to have `promise' engravings - erotic or evocative phrases - tattooed into hidden parts of the body, which would be visible only when naked or in the act of lovemaking.

The unadorned body was not considered aesthetically appealing, and customers who came to tattoo artists were mostly people from the `naked' trades - coolies, porters, gardeners, rickshaw-pullers and like - the nature of whose jobs forced them to strip down to near nudity. Palanquin bearers with tattooed backs were far more likely to pick up fares than the ordinary ones. Other members of the hinin (non-people) classes, such as executioners, grave-diggers, slaughterers and tanners also took to tattooing with enthusiasm, in a defiant show of outcaste camaraderie. The vogue for tattoos came to an abrupt halt in the 1850s, when the country opened up, for the time in its history, to the western world. Under foreign scrutiny, Japan became acutely sensitive to the opinions of the European visitors, and wanted to brush under the carpet, any activity they might consider primitive or barbaric. The practice of tattooing had the potential of embarrassing the nation, and police officials began raiding tattoo studios, destroying equipment and scaring away customers.

Foreign reaction, however, was quite contrary to what the administration had anticipated. They sought out colorfully-tattooed individuals to pull their rickshaws and do other menial jobs for them, and embassy people even went to tattoo studios to get their own tattoos to take back as souvenirs from the Orient. The ban was lifted, artists were allowed to re-start their studios and tattooing continued to exist quietly as an underground activity. Irezumi's association with the fringe society continued nonetheless, and mainstream social attitude towards the art has not improved even to this day. Damaging to the art of irezumi has been its association with the yakuza, the Japanese mafia. The yakuza is constituted of some 2,000 criminal organizations with an estimated membership of over a hundred thousand people - roughly 70 per cent of whom adorn themselves with irezumi. Yakuza usually opt for a `body suit', where the entire body is robed in a complicated tattoo. The procedure is long and expensive and the pain suffered after completion is excruciating, despite the lacing of some modern inks with cocaine.

The first session, like a driving license, is looked upon by the mafia as a badge of maturity, and proves an individual is brave enough to enter the criminal world. Most mafia groups have their trademark designs, which work like a member's identity card. (The Japanese police have often used irezumi as a means of identifying corpses of mafia killed in an encounter.) The markings also symbolize the irreversibility of an individual's decision to enter the violent world of yakuza. The body art also brings with it some fringe benefits. Special treatment for yakuza members are assured in beer pubs and hostess bars, once the staff have spied the irezumi peeking out from under T- shirts and coats. Prison wardens go easy on corporal punishment for fear that severe beatings will damage the irezumi on the body of the yakuza prisoner. While an exhibition of body art can guarantee privileged treatment for these criminals, life can be very difficult in Japan for tattooed people with no links to the mafia. Individuals with readily visible tattoos, according to the Daily Yomiuri newspaper, may have difficulty in renting an apartment or even finding a job. Many of Japan's bathhouses, swimming pools and onsens (hot spring resorts) ban people with tattoos, out of fear that they will cause trouble. The irony is of what made this country rich with tradition falls through with the progress of time.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Interview Delight


Sometimes my job just isn't that fun . . .

Monday, August 20, 2007

Zune? Right, enjoy . . .

So a good friend called me this morning, all excited that he had finally gotten himself a Zune, the supposed latest in a string of iPod killers. Now I've never been anti anything, and to be honest, I was actually quite keen when I heard about the concept of it, but sadly; Bill has let many of us down with this . . . It comes in colors, including…umm, just brown. Anyways . . . It also has built in wi-fi, but no browser. You can move songs from one Zune to another, but the songs magically disappear after three days or three plays (leaving a link to buy the song for yourself at Microsoft’s store, woohoo!), whichever comes first. It has a slightly bigger screen and slightly greater battery life than the iPod video. (Note key word here slightly). There’s no iTunes compatibility at all: purchased goods from iTunes will absolutely positively not play on the Zune unless burned and re-ripped. (Awesome for all of us who even actually legally purchased songs!).

Part of the iPod’s appeal is the simplicity of its interface. There’s no fuss, no eye candy, and everything just works with a minimum of visual distraction. Minimalist form follows perfect function. On a Mac, there’s nothing to install for iPod. On Windows, Microsoft requires Zune software to be installed. When the installation fails, you’re presented with a full-screen photo of a girl sprawled out on the ground screaming for her life. Okay . . . (Man, I REALLY want to join this marketing department. It looks like they just cook up some serious drugs and think of the most inept crazy-ass pictures in which to communicate to customers what's going on with their product.)

The copy protection on the Zune is so strict and stupid that it applies to all audio files, regardless of copyright status. Say you make a song in your own cheesy monkeyass band that's played only in your garage and neighbours tupperware party, record it, save it as an MP3, email it to a friend who uses Windows, and the friend puts the song on their Zune. Your buddy thinks the song is so great, he zaps it to other friends with a Zune, but those people to whom he zaps the song using Wi-Fi get three plays or three days. Ironically, if some media is covered by a Creative Commons license, the Zune violates it as it hinders free distribution. Honestly, I wish there was something revolutionary about the Zune. (Besides this new color they seem to think they have invented . . . brown . . .) Competition is good for the consumer and promotes innovation and lowering of prices, it's a natural law of things. But then again the bigwigs at old Microsoft seem to think differently . . . Apple will continue innovating regardless of the Zune and of Vista, that's what gives them the edge. My video iPod is still going strong, and will stand for a long time as one of my best purchases ever.

I also coincidently had this ad sent to me by someone else, and man, this bloody ad is smack you in the face I want to scream on the top of Burj Dubai great. I seriously want to get the drugs that the Zune people have, for whatever it is it brings them to a whole 'nother level in the thought processes that happens in our brains. Nothing says sharing your songs using technology like some multi-eyed creature puking out an eyeball to his buddy’s mouth. Great concept. Of course … once one pukes, one always must have a wicked beer burp directly into the face of said friend, just to prove how manly you are (since sensitivity of this nature is not manly at all, and burps are the main communication method of manly males). What is with the butt clenching? And the overly sexual touching? And before the girls get upset, I really just don’t see these two (aliens? ameobas? slugs?) as being female. There's waaay too much butt clenching, burping and puking going on. Enjoy . . .

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Happiness

I'm happy.


Not so-so happy, not I just found 10 dirhams in my jeans pocket happy, or I found out I don't have to work on Sunday happy, but genuinely, God honest (for those of you fearing the Almighty), down to earth happy.


I'm at this happy place that I actually didn't think existed.


James Michener spoke much more eloquently about the “happy place” I’m talking about in this famous quote, though more for an overall balance:


“The master in the art of living makes little distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his information and his recreation, his love and his religion. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence at whatever he does, leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing. To him he is always doing both"

But life is not about stopping to stagnate. It is about evolving and discovering and changing and emulating new things . . . It is like the unending quest for knowledge and the thirst to learn new concepts. This thirst and quest may be intrinsic but the source of knowledge could be intrinsic like the road to self-realization or self-actualization or extrinsic - there is a plethora of un-delved facts in the world - the universe being one whole knowledge-bank and we the tiny children in our own little worlds of home and class-learning, trying to grasp as much as we can in this short life of ours . . . and feeling amazed, in awe, in wonder, as and when we learn new concepts, and apply new principles to our day to day living . . . And we realize that life is too short. There is so much to learn, imbibe, love, and absorb from this world. And even if we become diligent life-learners, learning a new concept everyday, we would still be covering just a fraction of the world-wide knowledge base. One life is just too short for a lifetime of learning . . . I respect that train of thought, as I respect and will much miss Ali, who has departed off to intellectual Ithaca, to further enhance his cranial capacity . . .



What is about the heart though? That search which comes about from within the slow volcano burn that flows through your soul seeking for understanding and trying to find it's corner of warmth and where it can let go and be free. For many of you who me know that the years passed have not been kind to me, and I went through a period of challenge and difficulty. The thing is that I went through such pain and sorrow, all for reasons completely uneeded. What I felt I thought was real, what I felt I thought was love, and true happiness, only through time to come to the terms that it wasn't even close to what the true feeling was. What is love to you? What does it mean to have the feeling of true happiness? Definatelty not what I felt before.

These days though.

I am lifted.

Reborn if one can say.

That spring in the step is not the new cushioning in the new shoes, rather of the heart. The irony of it all is that I am so happy and simply joyful to the point I can't explain it. So for now I want to enjoy this feeling.

I know this sensation is not going to fade or dissapear, and I'm extremely content in that

And thus these days, I'm savoring each moment, each interaction, each second that passes.

And loving every minute of it.

Jeu Blank


Tu es dans toutes mes pensées!