Holy shit…can this kid shred:

[Link to video]

Only 8 years old!

Human sacrifice is a surefire historical pisser. However, if you’re building that dream house, castle or whatever…you may want to consider having a hitobashira or “person-post”—literally a human being, usually a woman, that’s buried alive in the foundations or walls of a structure to ensure stability and protection.

“Legend says an old peasant woman is the hitobashira of Maruoka Castle. She allowed herself to be built into the castle’s base on the condition her son would be made samurai. The daimyo reneged on his promise and the locals say that when the moat floods (which it often does) it is the old woman weeping for her son. Another tale of hitobashira says a beautiful maiden was sealed into the walls of Matsue Castle. She was said to be fond of dancing and after her death a law had to be passed forbiding girls to dance in the streets. The spirit of the young girls [sic] would become jealous and it is said the castle would shake and shudder.” [Link]

There’s no real evidence to support these stories, but you have to admit, it’s kind of cool. I’ve also read of a legend that tells of hundreds, thousands…sometimes up to ten-thousand people being buried alive within the Great Wall of China, facing outward towards the rest of the world to protect and stand watch. However, that story has almost no basis in fact, or so I’ve read.

I’ve become completely addicted to playing the game Katamari Damacy for the PS2. If you’ve never played it before, go out and get it right now.

You control this miniscule little galactic prince with an oddly shaped head, whose task is to roll a ball around various places on Earth, collecting items via a kind of “stickiness” property of the ball. As the ball gets larger by virtue of the things sticking to it, you are able to attach bigger and bigger items. From sushi and cookies to cattle, police officers and buildings, your goal is to create as big a ball or “katamari” as possible. Finished katamari are lifted to the heavens and made into stars by your enormous, gold chain macking father. It’s a pretty simple premise.

The game has a surreality reminiscent of the Teletubbies and some of the more intense drug-abusing moments of my adolescence. All the weird shapes, styles, colors and constant references to “rolling” have me making a few guesses about the lfestyle of the creator, a guy who claims to dislike video games. Regardless as to whether anyone at Namco did any inhaling when making this game, the fact is that I cannot stop playing it. Katamari Damacy is wildly addictive. There’s a very strong satisfaction you get when your katamari starts getting big. Once you hit the size where you are big enough that people run screaming from you, there’s a certain Godzilla-like thrill that I can’t recall feeling in a video game before. Rolling a massive ball of buildings, cars, people and everything in between down the street, glomming everything you touch is a joy you should experience rather than trust my word for.

The graphics are basic, silly and cartoonish in a likeable and iconic way. The soundtrack is by far the most original I have ever heard—from Japanese hip-hop to a capella beat-boxing and ambient electronica, I don’t think there’s a stranger sounding game out there.

At twenty bucks from most large retailers, there’s really no excuse not to drop everything and pick up a copy. You’ll be a Katamari maniac in no time, dressing up as the prince and making all kinds of katamari-like food and other assorted homecrafts. Just check the photos tagged on Flickr and you’ll get the idea.

This afternoon, I went to the Japan Society’s exhibit, “Little Boy: The Arts of Japan’s Exploding Subculture“. While the twelve dollar admission was a little steep for the small show that it was, there’s always the argument that you can’t put a price on art. Money aside, the show was some seriously cool stuff. Focused on the otaku culture of manga, anime and big-eyed, bubblegum chicks with pink hair committing sex acts, the show was filled storyboards, figurines, plush dolls, costumes, painting and sculptures of every sort. Whole walls were devoted to “Hello Kitty“, “Mobile Suit Gundam” and Godzilla.

It was fascinating to see all this pop culture, much of it unheard of by me but still, quite a bit from my childhood. Seeing the storyboards for the anime films reminded me of the ridiculous amount of effort that goes into crafting these animations, only to be watched and left behind for the next new film. I’d have to say my favorite piece was a gigantic sculpture of a bright yellow, organic-shaped blob with a crown of ascending tentacles that looked like a cross between a tumor and a germ, called “Fresh Gasoline” by Noboru Tsubaki.

The high point was the rediscovery of my favorite movie from when I was somewhere around five or six, called “Ultraman” or “Urutaroman”. I must have seen it something over twenty times. Forgotten, until today. Ultraman is one bad motherfucker.