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はてなキーワード: Topとは
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.
https://www3.nhk.or.jp/news/html/20230626/k10014110071000.html
https://b.hatena.ne.jp/entry/s/www3.nhk.or.jp/news/html/20230626/k10014110071000.html
市場価格の６割に怒って
と揶揄してるわけだが
ちょっとググれば
ボロ家（というか経年劣化）は減額されるのが分かる
２割までもっていける
６割と比べたら、すごいことだよな、２割だぜ、２割
でも、「そういう事を知らない」し、そういう事をちょっと調べてみようともしないから、「ボロ屋の評価額も～」って言っちゃう
それはしょうがない
でもそれに、★が130付くのは流石になぁ
実際問題、こういうのが「市民感覚」とか言われて有難がられちゃうわけだろ？
・リツイートが何件あった
・コメントが何件付いた
・トレンドに入った
ポリコレをお気持ち棒だと叩くようなアカウントも★つけてない？
大丈夫？
はてサもさ
ボロ家に新築同然の評価額がついてたら、もっと問題視されてるでしょうに
流石にヤバくない？
Best Sellers Rank: #139,130 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
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そんな売れてるように思えんが 誇大広告じゃね
序盤に誰が反応したか見たら答え分かるよな
PENLIGHTジャニーズ事務所 until:2023-04-19_9:0:0_JST since:2023-04-18 filter:nativeretweets
トプロはやたら良い子ちゃんなキャラ付けで面白みが全く無く、語られる内容もウマ娘なら誰にでもあてはまりそうなものばかりだ。
アヤベは完全にメンヘラとなってしまっていて、目の前のレースにも人間にも集中せず自分の脳内にしか存在しないものに延々と執着している。
オペラオーはオペラを引用して諳んじる割合の大幅ナーフにより芝居がかった態度を取るだけのキャラクターとなった。
非常に残念だ。
競走馬の歴史を擬人化するというコンセプトにおける解像度が大幅に下がっている。
というか、自分たちで一度は作り上げたウマ娘像への思い入れも薄くなっているのではないか。
ウマ娘第１・２シーズンにあったそれぞれの競走馬のイメージに対する集合意識を描き切ろうという執念が失われているように見える。
主役でないウマ娘が雑多なキャラクター性に埋もれてしまうことに対して諦めはつく。
ドトウがオペラオーの太鼓持ちみたいになっているのも今回はモブだから仕方がない。
主要３人の描き方に奥行きが感じられないのは流石に問題だろう。
アドマイヤベガを「双子だったから片方を潰した」というストーリーを中心に描くこと自体がどうなのかというのがまず疑問で、ウマ娘というワンアイディアで作品を作ること自体がもう限界に近いのではとさえ感じさせる。
オペラオーのキャラ付自体は成功していたと思っているのだが、その尊大さを見ていて楽しいものとして描くことが出来ておらず、王道を外したキャラクターの魅力の出し方自体が共有されていないのではないのだろうか。
ウマ娘初期の頃にあった何を描いても競走馬の擬人化というコンテンツの目新しさのおかげで評価されるという時代は過ぎた。
今度は個々のウマ娘の個性によってユーザーがまだ耐性のついてない刺激を見つける必要があるというのはよくわかる。
トップロードの物語は他の２人と比べてもバランスがよく王道の安定感はあったが、それは既にウマ娘の世界において見飽きたドラマの再上映でもあったからだ。
ウマ娘RTPにはその壁を突破できるコンテンツ力を期待していたのだが、結果としては完全に弾き返される形になった。
これ作った。
YouTubeベストコメントTOP 5 [2023.05.11] #shorts
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/p1MTCvbwwdE
デイリーでYoutubeのおもしろコメントをランキング形式で紹介する動画。
インプットとなるデータはこないだ作ったYouTubeのコメントを収集してランキング形式で表示するサイトから引っ張ってきてる。
その際の日記：ChatGPT使ってずっと作ってみたかったWebサイト作った
動画つくるところは全部pythonで書いてて、そいつにランキングの順位の数字を５つ入力するとそれをもとに動画を作ってくれる仕組み。
こないだ作ったサイトがあんまり望んだ結果にならなかったため、もう少し面白いもの作れないか考えた。
サイトに表示されるコメントのうち秀逸なコメントを主観でピックアップしてまとめたらそこそこ面白くなるのではないかと考えた。
人が集まる場所でそのまとめを公開しようと思い動画化してyoutubeにアップロードすることにした。
ChatGPTに以下を教えてもらった
Niji journeyに以下を作ってもらった
ChatGPTは相変わらず自分が全然知らない領域の案内役として重宝した。最初にやりたいことの実現手段をいくつか提示してもらって、次に自分が決めた実現手段の骨格となるサンプルコードを提示してもらってそれを動かし、コードを自分で肉付けしつつエラーが出たらデバッグも手伝ってもらうという使い方をした。たまに間違ったことを言ってくるのでそのときにググったり公式リファレンスを見たりした。でも最初からググって調べるよりサクサクと事が運ぶし、なによりChatGPTに「こんなん作りたいんだけど？」と聞くとスッと正解に近いものを提示してくれるので最初の動き出しの心理的障壁がだいぶ減ってありがたかった。
AIイラスト生成サービスとしてNiji journeyは今回初めて使ってみたけど人物、動物、背景、小物の秀逸なイラストが出力できるので使い道がかなり幅広いと思った。今回スマホを持ったかわいい女の子の画像をたくさんかつ似た絵柄で欲しかったので以下の戦略で画像出力した。
これで似た絵柄でかついい感じにバリエーションの異なる画像が得られた。
