Zunbara Zuihitsu Chapter 5 "Cold Analog Water"

 To my niece Miho, "This is the Kurama Tengu"; to my nephew Takao, "This is Hiroto"; to my BABAR with my Jijy impression, "Hey Fuki, I'm calling you from the heavens"; to my apprentice JALLA, "This is the Nakano Police Department"; to Kawase, "Ooh~~ Kawase, it's the professor"; to Ikuro in my Ikuro voice, "Hello, this is Fujiwara"; and this is to an extent where I keep my name for myself. Otherwise, I would never use a pseudonym, add a certain number of strokes, or anything else. Even when I stay at an hotel for an affair, I simply write as Masayuki Yamamoto. Perhaps.

And now, analog letters.

Stamps are wonderful, especially regular stamps. I was a stamp collector in my youth.

I wanted to read the letter I received as soon as possible, so I tore open the seal. A stationary paper popped out from the inside. Hmmm...that handwriting, could that be his handwriting~? Whaaat??!! He's sick!?? I got worried. Okay, so that's why his handwriting haven't had the power. Uh-huh, this handwriting, that kid's handwriting. Wow, so you're having much fun with your spouse--ooh, and your master's gonna wash the teacups for you? That sounds easy. Uh-huh, that's your handwriting, isn't it? It seems like you're unhappy with your new job; stop enjoying things you dislike. You're right, thank you for writing those letters. Those summer cherries sure are squeaky.

And now, analog diaries.

There's a scene in the film Biloxi Blues (starring Matthew Broderick) wherein the journal of the protagonist, a soldier in training, is read by a close friend. It said something like "Epstein might be gay" or "Wykowski is brave but he's also stupid" or "Carney isn't that really confident", and that's after the soldiers have drifted off to sleep. There were a bunch of letters spelt out in a blanket, known to him and only him, that can cry, get upset and get reflected because of him. Ashamed and untrustworthy, he finally says, "Fine, read it on your own, and when you do, put back where you found it" and leaves the room. "However, Epstein was the best intellectual I've ever met" "Nobody else has assisted me more than Wykowski" "Carney, I love you for this" and I do remember the journal keeps going.

I was once furious when my mother read my journal. It was fall during my sophomore year. I never kept my journal again since, and I also pity my mom for what I behaved there. It was a magnificent book that I, and only I, can cry, get upset and get reflected because of who I am.

My journal is no longer with me.

And now, analog pictures.

During fifth grade in art class, we had to draw ourselves 50 years into the future. Everyone was freely using their own imagination with space stations, flying vehicles, artificial underground suns, etc. What did I draw? A lone tree standing in the middle of a vast Mikawa field.

That was me 50 years into the future.

And now, analog songs.

I will sing deeply close to your ears no matter what. Since that may not going to happen, around ten people gather in someone's room and sing deeply. I can't any information, but I'll be at the Baobab Academy Atelier singing deeply in response to requests. With Saturday in full house, I sing deeply in front of the audience at Asahi Seimei Hall. Sometimes in Okinawa and Wakkanai where it's impossible to go near Tokyo, I sing loudly on CD. Uh-oh, this is where digital intervenes. Take off the headphones, leave the hall, on the way home alone, that song...this song will remember, excite, leave over a dozen stars, look up and think about yourself, your friends, love yourself.

Make the pains and hardships disappear,

And now, analog people.

There's nothing else as analogous as this. The nervous system, even the bacteria it's possessing, feel...analogous. The only time I would look for a piece of digital debris would be when I would say out loud, "0101" and account for it. I wonder if people will be able to get digitalized in the future.

The rest is just the field and Yamamoto. Spoil it by telling them loudly that you might commit suicide. That is, leave that to the hospital and the Nakano police.

Original Japanese: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TtjYmqptHqwZx9LsClc1HdxJERjwvMFYEJeWk68sTaA/edit?usp=sharing