journal features

New Year's activities

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-eight years and a million words

Nichinan, Miyazaki, 2022.01.03

Today we went to a shrine first thing, leaving at 08:00 to beat the rush. We went to Udo Shrine up the coast not far from Nichinan, where we can dispose of last year's good luck charms (we finally got rid of one we've had for ten+ years) and pick up new ones. We can also buy five clay pellets for ¥100 and try to throw them so that they land within a rope ring atop a large upright part of the rocky shoreline.

After that we turned around and went south of Nichinan to a spot where a castle once stood. It's got great views of the Odotsu seaside town that makes up part of Nichinan. The sea was quite flat and the sun was shining. The kids horsed around on a swing that hangs at the lip of the cliff. From there we went to a nice seafood restaurant we know only to find it closed for the holidays. So we went to a small hole-in-the-wall that we hadn't previously visited and personally I preferred it.

Then on the way back we noticed a large solar power installation on a slope next to a substantial sports complex Mari knows. We detoured to explore that.

I'll have photos of the whole day when I get back to my image management workflow.

rand()m quote

Briefly stated, the Gell-Mann Amnesia effect is as follows. You open the newspaper to an article on some subject you know well. In Murray's case, physics. In mine, show business. You read the article and see the journalist has absolutely no understanding of either the facts or the issues. Often, the article is so wrong it actually presents the story backward—reversing cause and effect. I call these the "wet streets cause rain" stories. Paper's full of them. In any case, you read with exasperation or amusement the multiple errors in a story, and then turn the page to national or international affairs, and read as if the rest of the newspaper was somehow more accurate about Palestine than the baloney you just read. You turn the page, and forget what you know.

—Michael Crichton