はてなキーワード: Deathとは
いったん記録
・待ちに待ったAGGRO CRABの新作だ
ゴーイングアンダー大好きだし
でもアラサーになると働きたくないとかほざく余裕は無いんじゃ!
そんなの大前提だしそれでも働かなければいけない現実の圧に屈するし
そんな戯言口を開く余裕あったら「生活」やるんだよ!という境地
・地味にゴーイングアンダーの缶ドリンクでてる!ユニバースや!
懐かし嬉しい
できそうな気がする!と鼓舞してるがそういう考え方するのは
無理な時
・これ現時点ではローグライクっていうか
ローグライク感出てくるの…?
・もちろん簡易設定全振りしとるそれでもこの様よ…
次何やれば進めるか分からん
Death's Doorとか好きな人は好きなんじゃないかな知らんけど
無理や
どうしても分からん
Roro Chan Challenge - A phrase that references the death of the 14-year-old Japanese streamer Rorochan 1999[13]. This phrase became popular in 2020 when a tribute music video/song about her went viral on YouTube through the algorithm, and members of the Larpercore community started making videos referencing it by acts such as jumping off a building in video games like ROBLOX. According to some news reports, some people were actually harmed after trying the so-called "challenge".
https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Larpercore
ロロちゃんチャレンジ - 14歳の日本のストリーマー、ロロちゃんの1999年の死を指すフレーズ[13]。このフレーズは 2020 年に彼女についてのトリビュート ミュージック ビデオ/曲がアルゴリズムを通じて YouTube で広まり、Larpercore コミュニティのメンバーが ROBLOX などのビデオ ゲームで建物から飛び降りるなどの行為でこのフレーズを参照するビデオを作成し始めたときに人気になりました。一部の報道によると、いわゆる「チャレンジ」に挑戦して実際に被害に遭った人もいるという。
SPECIAL CLASSIFIED EXECUTIVE
ORDER #029774
23RD JULY, 1988
PROJECT METAL BLACK:
■HIGHEST LEVEL OF CONFIDENTIALITY REQUIRED
■PROJECT DETAILS MUST NOT BE DISCLOSED TO THE PUBLIC UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES
COVER STORY:
■CREATE A FAKE NARRATIVE TO CONCEAL THE TRUE NATURE OF PROJECT METAL BLACK
■THE FAKE PROJECT WILL BE PUBLICLY REFERRED TO AS "PROJECT GUN FRONTIER 2"
■ALL PERSONNEL INVOLVED MUST ADHERE TO THE COVER STORY WITHOUT EXCEPTION
COMMUNICATION PROTOCOLS:
■ALL CORRESPONDENCE RELATED TO PROJECT METAL BLACK MUST BE ENCRYPTED USING QUANTUM CRYPTOGRAPHY
■ANY BREACH OF CONFIDENTIALITY WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE TERMINATION AND CRIMINAL PROSECUTION
RESOURCE ALLOCATION:
■PROJECT METAL BLACK IS GRANTED UNLIMITED ACCESS TO ALL NECESSARY RESOURCES
■FUNDING WILL BE PROVIDED THROUGH CLASSIFIED CHANNELS TO AVOID PUBLIC SCRUTINY
THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED AS TOP SECRET
UNAUTHORIZED DISCLOSURE IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH UNDER
FEDERAL LAW 18 U.S.C. § 793, 794
フツーの人じゃとても住めない地域(カリフォルニア州サンノゼとか。年収12万ドルくらいだととても厳しい)で
これまた上級労働者レベルじゃとても買えない大豪邸に住んでる人らが心配していることが、
強盗で、強盗対策にプロテクションドッグが欲しいってなんだそれ・・・
確かに泥棒は金ない庶民のところではなく、金持ちのところに入れよとは思ってはいたが、要らないんだよなぁそういう機会平等は・・・
フツーの人が住めないエリアの大豪邸買ってもまだ勝ちではなく、24/365でSPおけるようになって、ようやく勝ちか・・・
日本が生きづらいらしい金持ち様はドンドン米国へ移住してくれて構わないぞ
あと大豪邸まではいかずとも、やっぱフツーの人が住めないエリアの戸建てに住んでる勝ち組のジジババじゃない人の死因が、
日本でジジババや基礎疾患がある人を除いて、ある一定以上の生活水準の人が肺炎で死ぬってまず無いんだよなぁ・・・
さすが機会平等のアメリカさん、経済的に厳しい人・生活水準が低い人だけでなく、すべての階層の人に平等にDeathチャンスだぜ・・・
自分の健康・丈夫具合には自信あったけどちょっと自信無くなったわ。生き残れるかこれ?
共通認識?「(みんなが)エヴァと訊かれて思い出すことと言えば」みたいな感じですか?
DEATH and Rebirthまでしか見ていない者からすると
たぶん「TV版でシンちゃんが『逃げちゃ駄目だ逃げちゃ駄目だ』とか『使徒を喰ってる』とか言ってるとこ。とか『ざーんこーくなてんしのように』っていう歌」が
エヴァの共通認識なんじゃないですかね。だからTV版ってことですね
老人でもあそこまでは見てるとか、見てもいないし殆ど知らない人でもソレは知ってるとかあるでしょう
自分も漫画全巻買ったんですけど途中で飽きて読んでないので、増田がそこまで感動したなら読んでみたいと思います
In a discussion about the case, someone raised an objection to "someone who was not a party to the incident, who was not from Nagasaki, and who was not from Hiroshima, complaining about it. Seeing that opinion made me aware of my position, so I will say what I must say.
I was born in Nagasaki and am a third-generation A-bomb survivor.
I say this because I grew up hearing the stories of the A-bomb damage directly from those who suffered from the atomic bombings.
I feel that it is unacceptable for someone like me to speak about the A-bomb damage.
However, there are few A-bomb survivors left, so I will speak up.
In Nagasaki, children grow up hearing stories about the atomic bombing. We were made to sit in the gymnasium of an elementary school in the middle of summer, where there was not even an air conditioner or a fan, and for nearly an hour we were made to listen to stories about the atomic bombing. It was hard for me anyway.
I think it was even more painful for the elderly people who told the stories. But I don't think an elementary school kid could have imagined that. I, too, have forgotten most of the stories I was told. I can only remember one or two at most.
Another thing is that at this time of year, pictures of the victims of the atomic bombing are pasted up in the hallways.
In other parts of the country, these are grotesque images that would cause a fuss from the parents who are always nagging about them.
Recently, even the A-bomb museum has become more gentle in its exhibits, and most of the radical and horrifying exhibits that would have traumatized visitors have been removed.
I don't know how elementary schools now teach about the A-bomb damage. But when I was in elementary school, there were photos on display.
There was one photo that I just couldn't face as an elementary school student. It was a picture of Taniguchi Sumiteru(谷口稜曄). If you search for it, you can find it. It is a shocking picture, but I would still like you to see it.
I couldn't pass through the hallway where the photo was displayed, so I always took the long way around to another floor to avoid seeing the photo.
My grandfather was under the bomb and went to the burnt ruins of the bomb to look for his sister. I can understand now that he couldn't turn away or go another way.
There would have been a mountain of people still alive and moaning in the ruins of the burnt ruins. There would have been many more who would have died out in agony.
My grandfather walked for miles and miles, towing a rear wheelchair, through the narrow streets of rubble-strewn Nagasaki in search of his sister.
My grandfather was not a child then. But of course there were elementary school children who did the same thing he did. I am not speculating that there were. There were. I heard the story from him, and I still remember it.
A young brother and sister found their father's corpse in the ruins of the fire and burned it themselves. They didn't have enough wood to burn him alive, and when they saw his brain spilling out, they ran away, and that was the last time they ever saw him again.
I can never forget that story I heard when I was a kid, and even now it's painful and painful, my hands are shaking and I'm crying.
I keep wondering how that old man who ran away from his father's brain was able to expose to the public the unimaginably horrible trauma, the scar that will never heal, even after all these years.
Now I think I understand a little.
Why I can't help but talk about my grandfather and the old man now, even as I remember my own trauma.
Because this level of suffering is nothing compared to their words being forgotten.
It's nothing compared to the tremendous suffering that once existed that will be forgotten, like my hands shaking, my heart palpitating, my nose running with vertigo, and so on.
My grandfather, who went through an unimaginable hell, lived to see his grandchildren born, and met his sister's death in the ruins of the fire.
In other words, my grandfather was one of the happiest people in the ruins of the fire.
My grandfather and that old man were, after all, just people wading in the depths of hell.
I think that the suffering that even people who had experienced unimaginable pain could not imagine was lying like pebbles on the ground in Nagasaki 78 years ago, and no one paid any attention to it.
Their suffering, which I can't even imagine, is nothing compared to the countless, unimaginable suffering they witnessed, which they pretend never happened.
Memories fade inexorably with each passing human mouth. The memories that those people could never allow to be forgotten are almost forgotten.
The tremendous suffering of 78 years ago is mostly gone, never to be recounted.
Those who suffered the most from the atomic bombing died rotting in the ruins of the fire without being able to tell anyone about it.
Many of those who saw it with their own eyes kept their mouths shut and took it with them to their graves. Most of those who spoke a few words are still in their graves.
Compared to the words of the old men, my own words are so light. I would rather keep my mouth shut than speak in such light words.
But still, someone has to take over. I realize that even my words, which are so light, are only the top of the voices that are left in this world to carry on the story of the atomic bombing.
I know how it feels to think that I am the only one. Still, I hope that you will not shut your mouth. I know that I have closed my mouth because I thought I shouldn't talk about it, and that is the result.
Sometimes I almost choose to stop imagining the unimaginable suffering and live my life consuming other people's suffering for fun.
I am writing this while I still have some imagination of the suffering of the old people whose voices, faces, and even words I can no longer recall.
すまん。勝手に翻訳した。拡散はどうするかな。redditとかに投稿するのがいいのか?
----
I have seen some posts asking if they should talk about "the case" even though they were not involved in it and were not born in Nagasaki or Hiroshima, and I am a bit aware of it, so I have to say what I have to say. I say this because I was born in Nagasaki, am a third generation atomic bomb survivor, and grew up hearing the stories of those who experienced the atomic bombing firsthand. I know it's a little bit too much for me, but I'm going to say this because there are very few survivors left.
In Nagasaki, children grow up hearing stories about the atomic bombing. They were stuffed into sushi for nearly an hour in the gymnasium of an elementary school in the middle of summer, with no air conditioner or fan, and told stories about the atomic bombing. That was a hard time for me. I think it must have been even harder for the old people who told the stories, but there was no way an elementary school kid could imagine such a thing, and I had forgotten most of the stories I had been told for a long time. I have forgotten most of the stories I was told. I can only remember one or two at most. There is one more hard thing. Every year around this time, a row of grotesque images that would drive the PTA crazy in other areas are prominently displayed in the hallways. These days, I hear that the atomic bomb museum has been bleached out and many of the radical and horrifying exhibits that traumatized visitors have been taken down. I don't know if they are still there, but they were there when I was in elementary school.
There was one photo that I just couldn't face when I was in elementary school. It is a picture of Sumiteru Taniguchi. If you search for it, you can find it. It is a shocking picture, but I would like you to take a look at it. I couldn't pass through the hallway where the photo was posted, so I always took the long way around to another floor of the school building to avoid seeing the photo.
Now I'm thinking that my grandfather, who headed into the burnt ruins to look for his sister, couldn't have turned away or taken a different path. There would have been a mountain of people still alive and moaning, not just pictures, and a mountain more who would have given up at the end of their suffering. He walked for miles and miles, towing his handcart through the narrow streets of rubble-strewn Nagasaki in search of his sister. My grandfather was not a child at the time, but of course there were children who did similar things. Not that there wouldn't have been. There were. I heard the story from him, and I still remember it. A young brother and sister found their father's body in the ruins of a fire and they burned it. They didn't have enough wood to burn his body, and when they saw the raw brain that spilled out, they ran away and that was the last time they ever saw him anymore.
I can never forget the story I heard when I was a kid, and even now it is painful and painful, my hands are shaking and I am crying. I keep wondering how the old man who escaped from that father's brain could have been able to unravel the most horrible trauma imaginable and expose it to the public with scars that will never heal.
Now I think I can understand a little.
The reason I can't help but talk about my grandfather and that old man, even if I have to rehash my own trauma, is that this level of suffering is nothing compared to the fact that their words will be forgotten. My hands shaking, my heart palpitating and dizzy, my nose running with tears, it's nothing compared to the tremendous suffering that was once there and will be forgotten.
My grandfather, who went through an unimaginable hell, lived to see his grandchildren born, and met his sister's death in the ruins of the fire. In other words, my grandfather was one of the happiest people in the ruins of the fire. My grandfather and that old man were, after all, just people wading in the depths of hell. I think that the suffering that even people who had experienced unimaginable pain could not imagine was lying like pebbles in Nagasaki 78 years ago, and no one paid any attention to it. Their suffering, which I can't even imagine, is nothing compared to the countless, tremendous suffering they witnessed, which they pretend never happened.
Memories fade inexorably every time people talk about them. The memories that those people could not allow to be forgotten are now largely forgotten; the tremendous suffering of 78 years ago is mostly gone, never to be recounted again. Those who suffered the most from the atomic bombing died rotting in the ruins of the fire, unable to tell anyone about it. Many of those who saw it with their own eyes kept their mouths shut and took it with them to their graves. Most of those who spoke a few words are now under the grave.
Compared to the words of the old men, my own words are so light. I would rather keep my mouth shut than speak in such light words. But still, someone has to take over. I realize that even my words, which are so light, are only the top of the voices that are left in this world to carry on the story of the atomic bombing. I know how it feels to wonder if someone like myself is allowed to speak about this. Still, I hope that you will not shut your mouth. This is the result of our silence.
Sometimes I almost choose to stop imagining the unimaginable suffering and live my life consuming other people's suffering for the fun of it. I am writing this while I still have some imagination of the suffering of the old people whose voices, faces, and even words I can no longer recall.
Translator's note: The original post in Japanese is a response to a post by a Japanese contributor who wondered if he was qualified to speak out on the subject of the A-bomb when he was not from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but still spoke out about Barbie and the A-bomb. I translated it here because I think it deserves to be read by the world.
アド街(与野回)見てたら「kiss of death」がかかったので、これ、誰の曲だっけ?と思って検索
Dokkenの曲なんだが、それよりも上位候補として中島美嘉のやつが出てきた。ダリフラの曲
しらねえ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAi2R9NxMnU&t=2s
このいにしえ感、たまらんわ
80年代なのかな?
ゆっくりだし、うるさすぎないし、メロディアスだし。vo.も「低」より「高」を重視してる
アニメとの親和性も高いと思うので、是非とも80年代90年代HR/HMを主題歌に使って欲しいっすわー