Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Shogun

My one goal for this three-day Memorial Day weekend is to binge watch the entire 10-episode run of Shogun (streaming on Disney Plus). Long ago have I read James Clavell’s acclaimed novel of the same name. It was therefore super exciting to see it visualized in a new medium.

Verdict: Shogun is magnificently done. The cinematography is amazing, and the acting is superb (Hiroyuki Sanada and Anna Sawai should win lots of awards for their performance. Moeka Hoshi is a bonafide scene-stealer). Fans of the book - I would include myself - can be wholly satisfied with the show-runners’ interpretation of the base material. It’s largely faithful to the book. The subtle changes made contribute to better storytelling for television.

The depiction of Lady Mariko leading Toranaga’s retinue out of Osaka Castle, Mariko fighting through the samurai blockade, is wonderfully breathtaking.

The feudal period of Japan is my absolute favorite historical period - of any country. Before I read Shogun the book, what got me into this slice of history is the book Taiko, by Eiji Yoshikawa. Taiko narrates the story of Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s rise from lowly peasant to the Taiko - ruler of Japan - during the Sengoku period. That book is where I first learned of these giants of Japanese history: Oda Nobunaga - the unifier of feudal Japan, and Tokugawa Ieyasu - founder of the great Tokugawa Shogunate.

Shogun is actually a fictionalized version of Tokugawa’s maneuvers to claim the supreme title, during the period after the Taiko’s death.

I immediately wanted to play Ghost of Tsushima again after finishing the show.

Please sir, no more

I really need to stop buying books. There’s still so many on my shelves currently that I’ve yet to read. Just this week, four more books arrived from the overlords at Amazon. The COVID pandemic may be over, but my personal pandemic of compulsive book buying is here to stay. What I should do is stop listening to podcasts, because that’s where I usually get book recommendations from. The hosts would interview some interesting person releasing a book, and I would immediately go one click purchase (trademark) on Amazon.

No wonder book tours include going on podcasts.

There’s also the problem of running out of shelf space. The two Billy bookcases in my room is full (man have they gotten expensive since I bought them three years ago), and I prefer not to get more shelving. That money would be better used towards buying more books! My solution to this is to slowly donate the books I’ve already read. The rule: any new book I buy, one on the shelf has to go. Fortunately, it’s super easy to donate my used books. Our university library has a book donation drop-off. So I simply have to bring the books with me to work.

I would donate to the San Francisco Public Library - there’s a branch literally down the block from me. Sadly they do not except donations at branch locations. There’s a central spot on the other side of the city that accepts them. My housemate recently hauled a bunch of his old books over there. I on the hand will not be wasting gas for this endeavor. Sorry, SFPL: decrease friction if you want my donations!

There’s nothing better than an early Saturday morning, reading a book in front of my room window (with a requisite cup of coffee, of course). No need for any grand travel adventures; that simplicity is what satisfies me these days.

Books on books on books

I kind of promised myself this year that I will not buy more books until I’ve read all the ones that are already on the shelves. Well, that has gone completely out the window already. I’m about a dozen new books purchased this year, and it’s only been a month! There is literally no more room on my two IKEA BILLY bookshelves. I’ve resorted to stacking the news one horizontally on top of the books already there.

In my defense, I do tend to read all of the new books that I buy. But with shelf space becoming an acute issue, I soon will have to make a decision: either buy and create more shelf space, or donate a portion of the books. Because let’s face it, I’m not going to stop buying new books. That’s just not happening.

Donating the books will be easy: I work in a campus library that takes donations. The hard part will be figuring out which books to donate. That’s when the emotions and sentimental value kick in. Marie Kondo doesn’t have a solution for this: what if everything sparked joy? A more useful standard would be to toss anything that have not been touched/used in the past 12 months. The likelihood of such a book ever being touched again is near zero.

I previously had dreams of stuffing as much books and shelf space as possible into my room. A wonderland of books, if you will. The coziness scale will certainly be off the charts. However, that would clash against a strong sensibility of mine: cleanliness. It’s a simple equation: the more stuff you have, the more difficult it is to maintain it.

This is why I’m kind of rethinking about getting a second car. Sure it’ll be fun to have a different kind of car to drive around, but it will be two times the effort (and costs!) to maintain. That’s a tremendous time investment, even for something I am deeply passionate about.

We got the slow shipping

As an avid purveyor of books, I greatly prefer the feel of actual pages than the digital equivalent. Therefore I buy physical copies on Amazon, instead of opting for the Kindle version. The latter is likely kinder to the environment, but the analog texture and smell is worth the sacrifice of a few trees. Besides, I don’t want to give Amazon even more information than I already am: the company is not getting my highlights and reading patterns. It only knows what genre of books I tend to purchase.

In the effort offset some of the environmental impact, I buy used books whenever possible (unless the price difference between new and used is negligible). The downside of this is that shipping takes forever. I am so used to stuff arriving from Amazon in two days (Prime shipping!) that something taking more than two weeks feel downright archaic. Books would show up to my surprise that I had bought it in the first place. Multiple times lately I thought the item for sure got lost in the mail.

It is a busy time for shipping, after all. Everyone is trying to get their holiday shopping in. Amazon managing its own shipping supply chain is a massive advantage over its competition. You’re not handing off a package to Fedex and praying it’s able to keep its delivery timeframe promise. And as a customer, who can you trust but Amazon, when you’ve procrastinated until the last minute to buy presents? It’s far easier to get refunds too should an item arrive late, not that you should abuse this.

What Amazon should offer is the ability to read the Kindle version of a book, until the physical copy I bought actually arrives. That would be so clutch. I’d even buy a Kindle device just for that purpose. Anyone got a line to the current Amazon CEO?

IKEA trip

The problem with preferring to buy physical copies of books instead of digital (sorry, trees) is that there’s never enough shelf space to house it all. Eventually I have to start shoving the new ones into drawer, and how esthetically pleasing is that? Isn’t the whole point of physical books is to show them off in book cases and shelves? How else are people going to know I am a learned being and I read a ton.

Joking aside, I do enjoy the library-like feel of having books on display, and in the never ending battle to procure more space, this weekend found me at the local IKEA store. There is a sale on the famous ‘Billy’ bookcase, and since I am an Asian always in search fo a bargain, the time was perfect to make the trip to East Palo Alto.

Not forgetting it’s still very much coronavirus season, I was curious at how IKEA is handling the flow of people in and out of the premise. The solution was rather simple: an amusement park-style queuing system, with a snake-like barricade system, and of course, six-feet of space in between each person/familiar group standing. It was indeed like waiting to in line to ride a rollercoaster, right down to the fair warning at the beginning that it’s a 30 minute wait until the absolute front.

Once inside, both sections of the IKEA store - showroom and warehouse - is open, though obviously the people flow is far reduced compared to “normal” times. You can even head straight to the warehouse section now, where previously they always forced you to walk through the showroom first. Knowing precisely where the bookcase I seek was located, I head straight for that aisle and section, bypassing the opportunity to walk through the second floor showroom.

After checkout, it was then another queue - with social distancing - to get into the elevators and back down to the ground floor where everyone was funneled to be parked on; you can’t have too many people stuffed into one like we’ve done previously. I would say the whole shopping experience was a bit strange, but not too much of a bother. I didn’t realize how much I had miss the simple task of heading to a store and buying something (that isn’t groceries).

With a new shelving in hand for more books, I am ready for the at least another year’s worth of purchases. Bring it on.

Support physical books and art

Despite the amount of trees felled every year in order to produce them, I still can’t peel myself away from physical books. An Amazon Kindle would be so much easier and a more environmentally friendly way to consume books (digital copies are cheaper as well), but it lacks character and soul. The tactility I get from touching a book’s pages and the smell it gives out is a significant part to the overall joy of reading. Besides, I am a serial highlighter, and making markings on an actual book helps me retain information far better than sliding my finger over a Kindle screen.

There’s also something very zen about shelves full of properly lined books, giving off a suitable facsimile of being in a library right in my room. Libraries are awesome places that gives off endless vibes of learning and discovery; coupled with the inclination towards quiet and silence, it’s no wonder the library was one of my favorite places to hang out as a kid (our family was also quite poor, so there’s that, too.) These days as an adult I can afford my own books, and have created a small library of my own.

Physical books are cool, and I especially like it when the creators I follow comes out with these tangible works of art. The bulk of creative content - this website included - reside in the digital realm on the web, where cost of entry is superbly low. Compared to producing an actual book, and the material costs alone almost makes it not worth the effort; a problem particularly acute for photographers, where printing costs are exponentially more than simple words and paragraphs. I’ve printed a few photo books for personal use, and they are easily in the hundreds of dollar.

So I make a point to support creators who come out with physical books by actually buying them, because I understand how much effort and money goes into making it possible. In doing my little part, I hope to spur on the incentive for these creatives to keep making prints and books, that there is a sizable contingent who still love the unique experience of interacting with actual materials. Plus, it’s important to monetarily support your favorite authors and content makers anyways, most of whom are simple freelancers just looking to get by.

Due apologies to the environmentalists out there. I also keep the air-con at 68 degrees.

Reading one book per month

I was once told that one should read at least one book per month. Doesn't matter what sort of book it is, be it fiction or non-fiction, story or self-help.

Of course, we're all so preoccupied with our screens and mobile devices these days, so who's got time to read anything substantial? Even on the Internet, long-form is largely dead. It's so much easier and faster for the ADD generation to parse through sordid lists and pictures instead of reading page after page of actual words.

It's no coincidence grammar and word usage has absolutely gone to shit. English is and can be a very artful language, but you simply don't see it much anymore. It irritates me greatly when I see slang or colloquial terms enter into what people consider journalistic pieces of writing.

Step away from the iPad, and pick up a book. Unless you're like me and you use the Kindle app on your iPad, then by all means - as you were.