James Wynn

I have been searching for an exceptional way to study/practice my Japanese in the interim before going back, and had thusly briefly considered writing this post in its entirety in said language. Luckily for anyone reading this now, be you English or Japanese speakers, I regretfully came to a stunning loss for words. It appears they come and they go, and seem to be going more often than coming.

For a class I was once taking, I started reading a book entitled “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle,” and have since continued the reading of it. This in itself is no remarkable feat, I know, but the book itself is something I think most have sadly missed putting on their ‘to read’ list. For within this novel Murakami weaves an intricate and dream-like tale of a very ordinary man with nothing particularly wrong with him. This vague description might lead you to the thinking that it would be a boring and trite story, but nothing could be further from reality. As much as it must irritate, I’m finding myself disinclined to elaborate on the subtleties of this masterpiece, but I would nevertheless recommend it to anyone who finds the bazaar interesting.

“Attraction is the worst parts in you connecting with the worst parts in someone else.”

An onomatopoeia that describes a general feeling of anxiety accompanied by mild irritability, slight confusion, and acute asshattedness. Usually used as an interjection and quite frequently all by itself. Origin of the word differs greatly depending on who you discuss it with, but most scholars will tell you it has some root in Greek or Latin. The lay-person will tell inform you of a more accurate depiction of its true heritage though. Harrumph comes from with in, it is found with in all of us and it truly is the binding force that holds the universe together. It is in a way the true reaction to diversity and at a core level the very cause of it.

I really have no idea what I’m talking about… pretty much all the time…

Yes, thats right. I speak of the dreaded ‘toe-socks’ as the cool kids call them. I was beset by these foul coverings of the foot over the holiday break whilst visiting relatives. I cannot accurately describe the extent to which they make me uncomfortable. Just their mere appearance in my cone of vision makes me cringe and makes my toes crawl — no pun. In short, I just wanted to say ‘I really hate toe-socks.’