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はてなキーワード: WILLとは



We're leaving together

But still it's farewell

And maybe we'll come back

To earth, who can tell?

I guess there is no one to blame

We're leaving ground

Will things ever be the same again?

It's the final countdown

The final countdown


To you, the creator, I sincerely hope this message reaches you.

It's sudden, but right now in Japan, creativity is facing a true crisis. Characters like Uzaki-chan, Onsen Musume, and Tojo Rika are being targeted and flamed, game character designs are being infiltrated by political correctness, Johnny's Entertainment is being dismantled, swimsuit photo sessions in parks are being canceled, Hitoshi Matsumoto is being publicly shamed, and the new AV law was enacted without considering the opinions of those directly involved. Every form of expression in every venue is currently under unreasonable pressure.

How does this connect to the Tokyo gubernatorial election? In fact, a major event directly linked to this is occurring in the 2024 Tokyo gubernatorial election. As a creator, I hope this message reaches you.

What I am about to share is a story about someone named Himasora Akane, who you should know about to resist such pressures. But before I dive into that story, I want to express my deep gratitude to my old friend Nozomi for giving me the opportunity to post this article in a place where many creators will see it. As someone who also loves manga, anime, and games, I hope this information will benefit Japanese society and support Nozomi's activities.

Himasora Akane Should Be the Governor of Tokyo

First, I would like to make a straightforward request to you as a creator: please support Himasora Akane for governor. In this election, please write "Himasora Akane" on your ballot. The voting day is July 7th. Even if you are not a Tokyo resident, I ask that you at least listen to this story. If you find it interesting, please share it with your friends, family, and acquaintances. You can check Himasora Akane's campaign promises and the background of their candidacy on their Twitter (X) posts linked below:

Himasora Akane (Tokyo gubernatorial candidate)



Himasora Akane Will Not Allow Our Culture to Be Burned

Himasora Akane is an ordinary otaku who loves manga, anime, and games. Known as "Cognitive Profiling Detective Akane Himasora," he has been active on Twitter (X) and YouTube, and now he is running for governor. Akane, who is deeply concerned about the repression and destruction of otaku culture, is challenging those who seek to destroy our culture alone. Akane will never allow those who try to burn our culture.

As mentioned at the beginning, all forms of expression are currently under pressure. Otaku culture, in particular, seems to be a prime target.

Uzaki-chan Blood Donation Poster Controversy (2019): A collaboration between the Japanese Red Cross Society and the manga Uzaki-chan was flamed for allegedly being overly sexual in its PR illustration.

V-Tuber Traffic Safety Video Controversy (2021): A V-Tuber hired by the Matsudo Police Department in Chiba Prefecture was deemed too sexual for public agency PR.

Onsen Musume Controversy (2021): Characters personifying local hot springs were criticized as sexist.

Mie Transport Official Character Controversy (2024): A character in a bus driver's uniform released by Mie Transport was flamed for evoking sexual images.

These controversies are often fueled by so-called political correctness and feminism. For creators, these are direct threats. If these factions label your work as sexual and demand it be burned to ashes, could you resist? How would you feel if your painstakingly created work, like your own child, was trampled by people who have no regard for your efforts? Could you continue your creative activities while constantly shrinking away?

Himasora Akane saw something behind these flaming incidents. He started investigating the key figure behind the Onsen Musume controversy, a representative of a general incorporated association in Tokyo. This association's core business, the Young Female Victims Support Project, received substantial public funds from Tokyo. Akane submitted public document disclosure requests to Tokyo and thoroughly dug into the organization. During his investigation, Akane uncovered many suspicions suggesting this project was unworthy of public funding, which he exposed one by one on social media.

Negligent accounting reports, taking protected girls to the Henoko base protest in Okinawa, Communist Party members waiting in the bus used to protect girls—these revelations drew significant attention online. The investigation extended beyond this general incorporated association to other NPOs receiving public funds, and Akane named this cluster of issues the "WBPC problem" after the initials of these organizations.

Akane's YouTube Channel (WBPC Problem Playlist)


From here, Akane's story expanded to resident audits, resident lawsuits, and national compensation lawsuits concerning the Tokyo Young Female Victims Support Project. Akane discovered that behind many flaming incidents, there is no clear command structure but a group of various political organizations and activists working together like an amoeba. He named this group the "Nanika Group" (Nanika means "something" in Japanese), a reference to the mysterious, ominous "something from another place" in the manga HUNTER×HUNTER, which Akane loves. The Nanika Group is also connected to welfare interests, where public funds flow unchecked. Akane called this phenomenon "Public Fund Chu-Chu" (siphoning).

For creators, this means the tax money they earn through hard work is used to burn their precious works. It's an intolerable situation.

Himasora Akane Is Fighting Against Those Who Burn Our Culture

In November 2022, a major event marked a turning point in this series of controversies. The general incorporated association under scrutiny held a press conference at the parliamentary office building, gathering media and announcing a lawsuit against Akane. This "Legal Harassment Press Conference," as it was called online, involved multiple layers of power: the government, the media, and a team of seven lawyers targeting a single individual.

However, Akane did not back down. Instead, he intensified his pursuit, exploiting the opponent's careless statements as lawsuit fodder. This led to an outpouring of support on social media, with his Twitter follower count skyrocketing and 160 million yen in donations for legal fees.

The following year, a resident audit request filed by Akane resulted in Tokyo's official website recognizing some improper points and deciding to audit the organization. However, Tokyo's lenient audit led Akane to file a resident lawsuit. Suspicion also turned towards Governor Yuriko Koike for allocating public funds through dubious sole-source contracts. Tokyo began excessively redacting documents in response to public document requests, attempting to conceal the issue. Koike's promise to end document redaction quietly disappeared from her campaign page.

Throughout this battle, Akane has been a target of criminal complaints and faced threats, yet he persists. His book "Netoge Senshi" was released amid bookstore threats, but only the criminal complaint was widely reported by the media, portraying Akane negatively.

Who Is Himasora Akane?

Himasora Akane is an ordinary otaku, a top-tier online gamer during his student days, and a talented game creator who worked for a major game company and later a venture company. His meticulous work on the game "Shin Goku no Valhalla Gate" was betrayed by the company's CEO, leading to a seven-year legal battle that Akane ultimately won, securing 600 million yen. This experience fuels his fierce opposition to having his creations burned.

Before investigating the Young Female Victims Support Project, Akane exposed fraudulent feminist "knights" on his YouTube channel, shaking the internet. He detests lies and has an uncanny ability to detect them.

Akane is a special individual with extraordinary abilities, honed through his experiences in games, court battles, and extensive document analysis. His pursuit of truth and justice makes him a suitable candidate for governor, promising a world without lies and where honest people do not suffer.

What We Can Do to Protect Our Culture

Creative expression can be crushed if we are not vigilant. Even in modern Japan, otaku culture is on thin ice. The recent cessation of Visa transactions for DMM (Fanza) is a reminder of how a single card company can wield its power to dictate what is deemed appropriate expression. Expression freedom is fragile and constantly under threat.

To those reading this, I urge you to vote for Himasora Akane. Support him to protect our culture. Despite his harsh demeanor and preference for solitary battles, he is now seeking help for the first time. Akane feels the danger in this gubernatorial election and believes that if he does not become governor, everything will end. He has taken a stand for the people of Tokyo and Japan.

I wrote this article to support his spirit and spread the word. Please vote for Himasora Akane and help create a miracle.

To you, the creator, I sincerely hope this message reaches you.

Please, I beg you.









今ならわかるよWOW WOW










Sam Altman (@sama)  

very happy to be partnering with apple to integrate chatgpt into their devices later this year!

think you will really like it.

(今年後半に Apple提携して ChatGPT を同社のデバイス統合できることを大変嬉しく思います













Bob the First, at the head of my long list of robins, having been killed by my pet owl, I very soon bought another. This one was not so gentle nor so handsome as Bob the First, his wings and his tail having their ends sawed off by contact with the wires of too small a cage.

Fearing that he might be lonely in my aviary with only rabbits, guineapigs, pet rats, and pigeons for company, I bought another robin called Dick. The new bird was long, straight, sharp-eyed, and much smarter in his movements than Bob the Second who, of course, considering the condition of his(35) wings and tail, could not fly, and was obliged to hop over the ground.

It was very amusing to see the two robins stare at each other. Both had probably been trapped young, for at that time the law against the keeping of wild birds in captivity was not enforced, and boys and men were perniciously active in their depredations among our beautiful wild beauties.

Bob the Second was very fond of stuffing himself, and he used to drive the pigeons from the most promising window ledges and partake freely of the food scattered about.

Poor Dick ran about the ground looking for worms, and not finding many, got desperate and flew up to the window ledge.

Bob lowered his head and flew at him with open bill. Dick snapped at him, hopped up to the food, and satisfied his hunger, Bob meanwhile standing at a little distance, a queer, pained thread of sound issuing from between his bill, “Peep, peep, peep!”

A robin is a most untidy bird while eating, and as often as Dick scattered a morsel of food outside the dish, Bob would spring forward and pick it up with a reproving air, as if he were saying, “What an extravagant fellow you are!”

Whenever a new bird enters an aviary, he has to find his place—he is just like a new-comer in a community of human beings. Bob, being alone, was in the lead when Dick came. Dick, having the stronger bird mind, promptly dethroned him. They were(36) very amusing birds. Indeed, I find something clownish and comical about all robins kept in captivity.

The wild bird seems to be more businesslike. The partly domesticated bird, having no anxiety about his food supply, indulges in all sorts of pranks. He is curious and fond of investigation, and runs swiftly at a new object, and as swiftly away from it, if it seems formidable to him.

The arrival of new birds in the aviary always greatly excited Bob, and he hopped about, chirping, strutting, raising his head feathers, and sometimes acting silly with his food, just like a foolish child trying to “show off” before strangers.

When I introduced a purple gallinule to him, Bob flew up into the air, and uttered a shriek of despair. He feared the gallinule, and hated the first Brazil cardinal I possessed, and was always sparring with him. One day I put a second cardinal into the aviary. Bob thought it was his old enemy, and ran full tilt at him. His face of ludicrous dismay as he discovered his mistake and turned away, was too much for me, and I burst out laughing at him. I don’t think he minded being made fun of. He flirted his tail and hopped away.

At one time Bob made up his mind that he would not eat crushed hemp-seed unless I mixed it with bread and milk, and he would throw it all out of his dish unless I made it in the way he liked.

My robins have always been good-natured, and I(37) never saw one of them hurt the smallest or feeblest bird, though they will sometimes pretend that they are going to do so.

When Bob took a sun-bath, any member of the family who happened to be near him would always be convulsed with laughter. He would stretch his legs far apart, stick out his ragged plumage, elevate his head feathers till he looked as if he had a bonnet on, and then half shut his eyes with the most ludicrous expression of robin bliss.

All birds look more or less absurd when taking sun-baths. They seem to have the power to make each feather stand out from its neighbor. I suppose this is done in order that the sun may get to every part of the skin.

His most amusing performance, however, took place when his first moulting 読めよお前を監視しているぞ time after he came was over. One by one his old, mutilated feathers dropped out, and finally new ones took their places. On a memorable day Bob discovered that he had a real tail with a white feather on each side of it, and a pair of good, serviceable wings. He gave a joyful cry, shook his tail as if he would uproot it, then spread his wings and lifted himself in the air. Hopping time was over. He was now a real bird, and he flew from one end of the aviary to the other with an unmistakable expression of robin ecstasy.

Most unfortunately, I had not a chance to study poor Dick’s character as fully as Bob’s, for I only had him a short time. Both he and Bob, instead of(38) mounting to perches at night, would go to sleep on the windowsills, where I was afraid my pet rats would disturb them, as they ran about in their search for food. Therefore, I went into the aviary every evening, and lifted them up to a comfortable place for the night, near the hot-water pipes. I would not put robins in a warm place now. They are hardy birds, and if given a sufficient quantity of nourishing food do not need a warm sleeping-place. If we only had a better food supply I believe we would have many more wild birds with us in winter in the Northern States and Canada than we have now.

Late one evening I went into the aviary to put my robins to bed. I could only find Bob—Dick was nowhere to be seen. My father and mother joined me in the search, and finally we found his poor, lifeless body near the entrance to the rats’ underground nest. His head had been eaten—poor, intelligent Dick; and in gazing at him, and at the abundance of food in the aviary, the fate of the rats was sealed.

I fed my birds hard-boiled egg mashed with bread crumbs, crushed hemp-seed, scalded cornmeal, bread and milk, prepared mockingbird food, soaked ant eggs, all kinds of mush or “porridge,” as we say in Canada, chopped beef, potato and gravy, vegetables cooked and raw, seeds and fruit, an almost incredible amount of green stuff, and many other things—and yet the rats had found it necessary to commit a murder.


Well, they must leave the aviary, and they did, and for a time Bob reigned alone. I did try to bring up a number of young robins given to me by children who rescued them from cats, or who found them on the ground unable to fly, but for a long time I had very hard luck with them.

Either the birds were diseased or I did not feed them properly. I have a fancy that I half starved them. Bird fanciers whom I consulted told me to be sure and not stuff my robins, for they were greedy birds. As long as I took their advice my young robins died. When I went to my canaries for advice I saw that the parents watched the tiny heads folded like flowers too heavy for their stalks, over the little warm bodies in the nests.

The instant a head was raised the mother or father put a mouthful of warm egg-food in it. The little ones got all they would eatindeed, the father, with food dripping from his mouth, would coax his nestlings to take just one beakful more. I smiled broadly and began to give my robins all the worms they wanted, and then they lived.

The bringing up of young birds is intensely interesting. I found that one reason why early summer is the favorite time for nest-making is because one has the short nights then. Parents can feed their young quite late in the evening and be up by early daylight to fill the little crops again. Robins are birds that like to sit up late, and are always the last to go to bed in the aviary.


I solved the difficulty of rising at daylight to feed any young birds I was bringing up by giving them a stuffing at eleven o’clock at night. Then I did not have to rise till nearly eight.

This, of course, was for healthy birds. If I had a sick guineapig, rabbit, or bird, I never hesitated to get up many times during the night, for I have a theory that men and women who cannot or will not undertake the moral responsibility of bringing up children, should at least assist in the rearing of some created thing, if it is only a bird. Otherwise they become egotistical and absorbed in self.

Betsy and Solomon lived happily through that winter and spring, and before summer came we had made up our minds to return to the East. What should we do with the owls? They would be a great deal of trouble to some one. They required an immense amount of petting, and a frequent supply of perfectly fresh meat. No matter how busy we were, one of us had to go to the butcher every other day.

We began to inquire among our friends who would like a nice, affectionate pair of owls? There seemed no great eagerness on the part of any one to(23) take the pets we so much valued. Plans for their future worried me so much that at last I said to my sister, “We will take them East with us.”

The owls, who were to take so long a journey, became objects of interest to our friends, and at a farewell tea given to us, a smartly dressed young man vowed that he must take leave of Solomon and Betsy. Calling for a broom, he slowly passed it to and fro over the carpet before them, while they sat looking at him with lifted ear tufts that betrayed great interest in his movements.

We trembled a little in view of our past moving experiences, but we were devoted to the little creatures and, when the time came, we cheerfully boarded the overland train at Oakland.

We had with us Betsy and Solomon in their large cage, and in a little cage a pair of strawberry finches, so called because their breasts are dotted like a strawberry. A friend had requested us to bring them East for her. We had also a dog—not Teddy, that had only been lent to us; but our own Irish setter Nita, one of the most lovable and interesting animals that I have ever owned.

The chipmunk was no longer with us. He had not seemed happy in the aviary—indeed, he lay down in it and threw me a cunning look, as if to say, “I will die if you don’t let me out of this.” So I gave him the freedom of the house. That pleased him, and for a few days he was very diligent in assisting us with our housekeeping by picking(24) all the crumbs off the floors and eating them. Then he disappeared, and I hope was happy ever after among the superb oak trees of the university grounds close to us.

When we started for the East, the pets, of course, had to go into the baggage car, and I must say here for the benefit of those persons who wish to travel with animals and birds, that there is good accommodation for them on overland trains. Sometimes we bought tickets for them, sometimes they had to go in an express car, sometimes we tipped the baggagemasters, but the sums spent were not exorbitant, and we found everywhere provision made for pets. You cannot take them in your rooms in hotels, but there is a place for them somewhere, and they will be brought to you whenever you wish to see them, or to give them exercise. We were on several different railway lines, and visited eight different cities, and the dog and birds, upon arriving in eastern Canada, seemed none the worse for their trip.

However, I would not by any means encourage the transportation of animals. Indeed, my feelings on the subject, since I understand the horrors animals and birds endure while being whirled from one place to another, are rather too strong for utterance. I would only say that in a case like mine, where separation between an owner and pets would mean unhappiness, it is better for both to endure a few days or weeks of travel. Then the case of animals(25) and birds traveling with some one who sees and encourages them every day is different from the case of unfortunate creatures sent off alone.

Our Nita was taken out of the car at every station where it was possible to exercise her, and one of us would run into restaurants along the route to obtain fresh meat for the owls. Their cage was closely covered, but whenever they heard us coming they hooted, and as no one seemed to guess what they were, they created a great deal of interest. My sister and I were amused one evening in Salt Lake City to see a man bending over the cage with an air of perplexity.

“They must be pollies,” he said at last, and yet his face showed that he did not think those were parrot noises issuing from within.

I remember one evening on arriving in Albany, New York, causing slight consternation in the hotel by a demand for raw meat. We hastened to explain that we did not want it for ourselves, and finally obtained what we wished.

As soon as we arrived home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the owls were put downstairs in a nice, dry basement. They soon found their way upstairs, where the whole family was prepared to welcome them on account of their pretty ways and their love for caresses.

Strange to say, they took a liking to my father, who did not notice them particularly, and a mischievous dislike to my mother, who was disposed to(26) pet them. They used to fly on her head whenever they saw her. Their little claws were sharp and unpleasant to her scalp. We could not imagine why they selected her head unless it was that her gray hair attracted them. However, we had a French Acadian maid called Lizzie, whose hair was jet black, and they disliked her even more than they did my mother.

Lizzie, to get to her storeroom, had to cross the furnace-room where the owls usually were, and she soon began to complain bitterly of them.

“Dey watch me,” she said indignantly, “dey fly on my head, dey scratch me, an’ pull out my hairpins, an’ make my head sore.”

Why don’t you push them off, Lizzie?” I asked, “they are only tiny things.”

“Dey won’t go—dey hold on an’ beat me,” she replied, and soon the poor girl had to arm herself with a switch when she went near them.

Lizzie was a descendant of the veritable Acadians mentioned in Longfellow’s “Evangeline,” of whom there are several thousand in Nova Scotia. My mother was attached to her, and at last she said, “I will not have Lizzie worried. Bring the owls up in my bathroom.”

There they seemed perfectly happy, sitting watching the sparrows from the window and teasing my long-suffering mother, who was obliged to give up using gas in this bathroom, for very often the owls put it out by flying at it.


One never heard them coming. I did not before this realize how noiseless the flight of an owl is. One did not dream they were near till there was a breath of air fanning one’s cheek. After we gave up the gas, for fear they would burn themselves, we decided to use a candle. It was absolutely necessary to have an unshaded light, for they would perch on any globe shading a flame, and would burn their feet.

The candle was more fun for them than the gas, for it had a smaller flame, and was more easily extinguished, and usually on entering the room, away would go the light, and we would hear in the corner a laughing voice, saying “Too, who, who, who, who!”

The best joke of all for the owls was to put out the candle when one was taking a bath, and I must say I heard considerable grumbling from the family on the subject. It seemed impossible to shade the light from them, and to find one’s self in the dark in the midst of a good splash, to have to emerge from the tub, dripping and cross, and search for matches, was certainly not calculated to add to one’s affection for Solomon and Betsy. However, they were members of the family, and as George Eliot says, “The members of your family are like the nose on your face—you have got to put up with it, seeing you can’t get rid of it.”

Alas! the time soon came when we had to lament the death of one of our troublesome but beloved pets.

Betsy one day partook heartily of a raw fish head,(28) and in spite of remedies applied, sickened rapidly and sank into a dying condition.

I was surprised to find what a hold the little thing had taken on my affection. When her soft, gray body became cold, I held her in my hand close to the fire and, with tears in my eyes, wished for a miracle to restore her to health.

She lay quietly until just before she died. Then she opened her eyes and I called to the other members of the family to come and see their strange expression. They became luminous and beautiful, and dilated in a peculiar way. We hear of the eyes of dying persons lighting up wonderfully, and this strange illumination of little Betsy’s eyes reminded me of such cases.

Even after death she lay with those wide-open eyes, and feeling that I had lost a friend, I put down her little dead body. It was impossible for me to conceal my emotion, and my mother, who had quite forgotten Betsy’s hostility to her, generously took the little feathered creature to a taxidermist.

I may say that Betsy was the first and last bird I shall ever have stuffed. I dare say the man did the work as well as it could be done, but I gazed in dismay at my Betsy when she came home. That stiff little creature sitting on a stick, with glazed eyes and motionless body, could not be the pretty little bird whose every motion was grace. Ever since the day of Betsy’s death, I can feel no admiration for a dead bird. Indeed, I turn sometimes with a shudder(29) from the agonized postures, the horrible eyes of birds in my sister women’s hats—and yet I used to wear them myself. My present conviction shows what education will do. If you like and study live birds, you won’t want to wear dead ones.

After Betsy’s death Solomon seemed so lonely that I resolved to buy him a companion. I chose a robin, and bought him for two dollars from a woman who kept a small shop. A naturalist friend warned me that I would have trouble, but I said remonstratingly, “My owl is not like other owls. He has been brought up like a baby. He does not know that his ancestors killed little birds.”

Alas! When my robin had got beautifully tame, when he would hop about after me, and put his pretty head on one side while I dug in the earth for worms for him, when he was apparently on the best of terms with Sollie, I came home one day to a dreadful discovery. Sollie was flying about with the robin’s body firmly clutched in one claw. He had killed and partly eaten him. I caught him, took the robin away from him, and upbraided him severely.

“Too, who, who, who who,” he said—apologetically, it seemed to me, “instinct was too strong for me. I got tired of playing with him, and thought I would see what he tasted like.”

I could not say too much to him. What about the innocent lambs and calves, of which Sollie’s owners had partaken?


I had a fine large place in the basement for keeping pets, with an earth floor, and a number of windows, and I did not propose to have Sollie murder all the birds I might acquire. So, one end of this room was wired off for him. He had a window in this cage overlooking the garden, and it was large enough for me to go in and walk about, while talking to him. He seemed happy enough there, and while gazing into the garden or watching the rabbits, guineapigs, and other pets in the large part of the room, often indulged in long, contented spells of cooing—not hooting.

In 1902 I was obliged to leave him for a six months’ trip to Europe. He was much petted by my sister, and I think spent most of his time upstairs with the family. When I returned home I brought, among other birds, a handsome Brazil cardinal. I stood admiring him as he stepped out of his traveling cage and flew around the aviary. Unfortunately, instead of choosing a perch, he flattened himself against the wire netting in Sollie’s corner.

I was looking right at him and the owl, and I never saw anything but lightning equal the celerity of Sollie’s flight, as he precipitated himself against the netting and caught at my cardinal’s showy red crest. The cardinal screamed like a baby, and I ran to release him, marveling that the owl could so insinuate his little claws through the fine mesh of the wire. However, he could do it, and he gripped the struggling cardinal by the long, hair-like(31) topknot, until I uncurled the wicked little claws. A bunch of red feathers fell to the ground, and the dismayed cardinal flew into a corner.

“Sollie,” I said, going into his cage and taking him in my hand, “how could you be so cruel to that new bird?”

“Oh, coo, coo, coo, coo,” he replied in a delightfully soft little voice, and gently resting his naughty little beak against my face. “You had better come upstairs,” I said, “I am afraid to leave you down here with that poor cardinal. You will be catching him again.”

He cooed once more. This just suited him, and he spent the rest of his life in regions above. I knew that he would probably not live as long in captivity as he would have done if his lot had been cast in the California foothills. His life was too unnatural. In their native state, owls eat their prey whole, and after a time disgorge pellets of bones, feathers, hairs, and scales, the remnants of food that cannot be digested.

My owls, on account of their upbringing, wanted their food cleaned for them. Betsy, one day, after much persuasion, swallowed a mouse to oblige me, but she was such a dismal picture as she sat for a long time with the tail hanging out of her beak that I never offered her another.

I tried to keep Solomon in condition by giving him, or forcing him to take, foreign substances, but my plan only worked for a time.


I always dreaded the inevitable, and one winter day in 1903 I looked sharply at him, as he called to me when I entered the house after being away for a few hours. “That bird is ill!” I said.

No other member of the family saw any change in him, but when one keeps birds and becomes familiar with the appearance of each one, they all have different facial and bodily expressions, and one becomes extremely susceptible to the slightest change. As I examined Sollie, my heart sank within me, and I began to inquire what he had been eating. He had partaken freely of boiled egg, meat, and charcoal. I gave him a dose of olive oil, and I must say that the best bird or beast to take medicine is an owl. Neither he nor Betsy ever objected in the l


peace and quietness of the night after the turmoil of the day, were hooting persistently and melodiously.

“The landlady and the boarders,” gasped my sister; “they will hear and wake up. Can’t you stop the little wretches?”

I sprang out of bed, and addressed a solemn remonstrance to Solomon and Betsy. They were exceedingly glad to see me, and distending their little throats, continued to hoot, their clear, sweet young voices carrying only too well on the still Californian night air.

Then the chipmunk woke up and began to slide up and down an inclined piece of wood in his part of the cage. We were in despair. We could not sleep, until I had the happy thought of giving the owls a bath. I seized Betsy, held her in a basin of water, and wet her feathers considerably. Then I served Solomon in the same way, and for the rest of the night the tiny little things occupied themselves in smoothing their wet plumage. The chipmunk quieted down, and we had peace.


When we got into the cottage I had a carpenter build a small aviary at the back of it, with a box for rainy weather. The nights were not too cold for my hardy birds. Indeed, they were not too cold for many semi-tropical ones. I found a bird fancier not far from me, who had built a good-sized, open-air aviary, where he kept canaries and foreign finches all the year round, with only a partly open, glass shelter for the birds to use when it rained.

My sparrowhawk did not seem unhappy in my aviary, but he never had the contented, comfortable expression that the owls had. His apathy was pathetic, and the expression of his beautiful, cruel eyes was an unsatisfied one. In time, I should have allowed him to go, but suddenly he fell ill. I think I overfed him, for I got him into the habit of taking a late supper, always leaning out the window and handing him a piece of meat on the end of a stick before I went to bed.

I brought him into the warm kitchen, where he moped about for a few days. Just before he died he came hopping toward the parlor, where I sat entertaining a friend. I often took him in there on the broad windowsill and talked to him as I sat sewing.

He stood in the doorway, gave me a peculiar look, as if to say, “I would come in if you were alone,” hopped back to the kitchen, and in a short time was no more.

My sister and I mourned sincerely for our pretty bird, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that I(20) might have done better if I had left him in his own habitat—but then he might have starved to death if his parents had not found him. Would death by starvation have been any more painful than his death with me? Possibly some larger creature might have killed him swiftly and mercifully—it was a puzzling case, and I resolved to give up worrying about it. I had done what I considered was best, and I tried to console myself for his death in petting the dear little owls that had become so tame that they called to my sister and me whenever they saw us, and loved to have us take them in our hands and caress them.

About them I had no misgivings. They would certainly have died if I had not adopted them, and there was no question about their happiness. They were satisfied with a state of captivity. They had so far lost one of their owl habits, for they kept awake nearly all day, and slept nearly all night—and they could see quite well in the most brilliant Californian sunlight, and that is pretty brilliant. A cat or a dog many yards distant would cause them to raise excitedly the queer little ear tufts that play so prominent a part in the facial expression of some owls, and they would crack their beaks together and hiss angrily if the enemy came too near.

Cats and dogs frightened them, and a broom merely excited them. When strangers wanted to see the elevation of these tufts, a broom, swiftly passed over the floor, would cause Solomon and(21) Betsy to become very wide awake, with feather tufts straight up in the air. I never saw them abjectly and horribly frightened but once. A lady had brought her handsome parrot into the room where the owls were. The poor little mites put up their ear tufts, swayed to and fro on their perch, and instead of packing their feathers and becoming thin and elongated in appearance, as they did for cats and dogs, they puffed themselves out, snapped their beaks, and uttered the loudest hissing noise I had ever heard from them.

From their extremity of fear I concluded that their instinct told them this danger was so imminent that they must make themselves as formidable as possible.

The parrot was of course quickly removed, and I took care that they should never again see another one.



plane wave tube(PWT)について補足


以下のpdfを見ればわかるように、徐々にテーパーの掛かったツノ型の吸音材(Eckel wedge)が用いられることが多い(無響室の壁に貼ってあるものと同型)






An anechoic wedge is considered to be anechoic if it can absorb 99% of the incident energy (absorption coefficient of 0.99 or a pressure reflection coefficient of 0.1). 3 The length of the anechoic wedge is the primary factor that determines the low frequency limitations of an anechoic wedge but the taper angle also matters. A commonly used criterion is that the low frequency anechoic limit of a wedge occurs when the wedge length is approximately 1/3 the length of a wavelength. Further design considerations are given in Reference 3.



The end of the receiving side tube was fitted with a 1.35 m anechoic termination designed to be anechoic to 60 Hz [22]. the absorption coefficient is greater than 0.90 all the way to 50 Hz.

→1.35mのツノ形吸音材をパイプ内に配置したところ、50Hzまで0.90の吸音係数となった(注: An absorption coefficient of 1 means that all acoustic energy striking the surface will be absorbed and none reflected)


a 1.5 m anechoic termination was located at the far end of the receiving tube. The source consisted of a 10 cm full-range moving coil driver with a sealed rear enclosure. The anechoic termination consisted of a tapered wedge cut from a solid cylinder of open-cell foam rubber and situated inside another section of 10 cm diameter acrylic tube. An air gap behind the wedge was filled with loose fiberglass insulation and the tube was capped with a thick steel plate.

→1.5m長、10cm口径アクリルチューブ内にツノ形吸音材を配置。その後ろにはファイバーグラス。67 Hzまで吸音係数0.99(ほぼすべて吸音)、40Hz以下でも0.70以上。





Building a Plane Wave Tube Experimental and Theoretical Aspects(要購入)

On the acoustic wedge design and simulation of anechoic chamber(要購入)

Plane wave analysis of acoustic wedges using the boundary-condition-transfer algorithm(要購入)












→奥行きが長いほうが吸音効率高い(低域カットオフ周波数: fc=c/4h hはツノの高さ(奥行き))




















→小型スピーカー場合200Hz以下は点音源となり無指向性となるがダンプされたパイプの低音はa unidirectional gradient sourceとなり指向性を持つ











plane wave tube

impedance tube

acoustic black hole

anechoic termination tube

anechoic wedge









KEFはwith some delayと、共鳴による遅れを認めている



As a result of our partnership with Acoustic Materials Group we have developed a first-of-its-kind structure that has proven to eliminate 99% of all the unwanted sound that radiates from the rear of a driver. This rearward firing energy reflects back with some delay to the driver interfering with the sound currently being produced by the driver. Standard technologies can reduce or eliminate up to 60% of this energy.





Chris Miller says there will never be generative AI usage for the ‘SPIDER-VERSE’ films.

One of the main goals of the films is to create new visual styles that have never been seen in a studio CG film, not steal the generic plagiarized average of other artists’ work”







ではなんと言えば良いのか。「ファイアー!!!」ですね。「彼はファイヤーされた」などのように言いますいくらat will employmentであるアメリカと言えどそんなに簡単解雇できるわけではないですね。いきなり解雇して訴えられても困りますから。訴えられても大丈夫なように解雇をしていくというのがアメリカ企業のやり方です。これこれこういう理由会社はこんなに頑張って尽くしたけど改善が見られなかった、だから会社はこの人を手放すしか無かったのだ、という体にしたいわけです。

これが悪名高いPIPですね。PIPはPerformance Improvement Planの略で「パフォーマンス向上計画」ということですね。この人はパフォーマンスが低いから向上させようというプログラムです。表向きは前向きな名前ですが基本的にここに入れられたらおしまいです。普通の人は無給休暇を取得し転職先を探します。PIPはクビにする最終段階にあります。その前からfocusだのdevelopment planだの色々な名前緩衝期間が設けられパフォーマンスが厳しく監視されるようになりそれでも改善しない場合にPIPに突っ込まれるわけですね。よくあるのが処理できない量のタスクを課し「この人はこれを達成できなかった」という事実を作り出すことです。この事実があれば解雇やすいし訴えられても会社も言い分ができるわけですね。

さて、どの会社にもパフォーマンスが低い人は一定度いるわけです。アメリカ会社では毎年下位の何%は切り捨てていこうという目標があったりします。これをURAなどと呼びます。URAはUnregretted Attritionの略で「後悔しない離職」とでも訳しましょうか。要するに「後悔しないクビ」ということです。「こいつを切っても会社としては後悔しない」という人を見つけてどんどんクビにしていくことが奨励されています。URAのターゲットに入ってしまった場合あなたは終わりです。PIPされて消されることでしょう。この数字を満たすためだけにクビにされる人もいます

URAを満たすためだけに行われる採用をhire to fireと良います。クビにするために採用するということですね。Hire to fireされた人は可哀想ですがPIPするために採用されたということですね。



Hit points are a combination of actual physical constitution, skill at the avoidance of taking real physical damage, luck and/or magical or divine factors. Ten points of damage dealt to a rhino indicated a considerable wound, while the same damage sustained by the 8th level fighter indicates a near miss, a slight wound, and a bit of luck used up, a bit of fatigue piling up against his or her skill at avoiding the fatal cut or thrust. So even when a hit is scored in melee combat, it is more often than not a grazing blow, a scratch, a mere light wound which would have been fatal (or nearly so) to a lesser mortal. If sufficient numbers of such wounds accrue to the character, however, stamina, skill, and luck will eventually run out, and an attack will strike home...

(Gygax, Dragon Magazine #24, 1979)




個人パフォーマンスによるレイオフ場合、通常は事前に何度かフィードバックマネジャーからある。ビッグテック場合はPIPという再トレーニングプログラムがあるが、昔いたテックカンパニーでは自分の周りでPIPを受けている人を見かけたことがなく、その後は中堅 - 小規模なスタートアップしか勤めたことがないので、詳しくない。


レイオフが決まると、まずはオフボーディングのための準備が行われる。基本的At will employment (理由を示さずに雇用契約を解消できる)なのだけど、雇用契約で2 weeks noticeにしている場合が多いので、残りの給与支払いの計算保険に関する書類の用意など、人事やアシスタントを通じて行う。





次に、レイオフのためのミーティングセットアップする。1 on 1 という形にすることもあれば、ミーティングのインバイトに気づかれないこともあるので、定例の時間を調整して(他のメンバーには来ないでもらって)、レイオフの告知に使うこともある。ちなみに会社の規模によってはHRも一緒にミーティングに参加する。





具体的に何が問題だったのか、と聞いてくる人もいる。先日のxyzプロジェクトのことか、あれはこういう理由問題があったり、時間がかかったんだ、など説明を始める人がいる。デリバリー速度も品質もどちらもいくらでも問題点を指摘できるのだけど、それをしたところで何も変わらないし、それに関する言い訳が出てきて平行線をたどるのが目に見えるので、"われわれの基準を満たしてなかった" 以上の返答はしないようにしている。


あと、最後に "We appreciate your contribution" と"これまでどうもありがとうございました"的なノリで言うことがあったんだけど、"感謝してるならこんなことにはならないだろ" と言われたことがあるので、パフォーマンス理由ときは言わないほうがいい気がする。正解がよくわからない。


2,3個質問には答えて、適当に wrap up する。時間にするとおよそ15分くらい。






I want to display mathematical formulas with SSG, so I'm having trouble using it in conjunction with the KaTeX plugin.

I want to display mathematical formulas in SSG, so I have installed the KaTeX plugin.

In the case of SSG (honkit) that I use, I want to convert the part to a mathematical formula into

Enclose it in $ (dollar mark) and write the contents in so-called TeX.

In fact, the github site also supports math rendering.

I think it's pretty familiar.

I wanted to mention Excel's built-in functions. What are Excel functions?

I use the dollar mark when I want to keep the cell fixed even if it gets copied and pasted.

I want the dollars to remain dollars inside the code block.

Problems/Errors occurring

For example on the markdown source side




I thought I could escape it by adding a backslash, so that's what I did.

In the case of the SSG that I use, when converted to html,


\{% math_inline %}A\{% endmath_inline %}2


It will become. _| ̄|○

As for the hosting method, I also store the html files in a GIT repository and host them on the `vercel.app` site. Regarding markdown → html, I do it in the local environment instead of using GitHub Actions.

Things I tried myself

I confirmed that if I use full-width instead of half-width for the dollar, it would not be recognized, so I confirmed that it would work.

But this isn't a fundamental solution, is it?

Also, open the html file and use the batch replacement function to replace `{% math_inline %}` and `{% endmath_inline %}` with dollars. It seems that you need some wisdom to selectively replace only the fence code blocks at once.

Do I have no choice but to ask the plugin author?


Markdown's fence code block is a guy who repeats backticks three times.

In some cases, the only option is to ask the author to ignore the dollar sign conversion.

Don't you have any hands?

The author of the plugin seems to have stopped development a long time ago.

It seems like they won't be able to respond.

Also, in the case of inline math, it says to surround it with two dollars each, and in the case of block math, it says to surround it with two dollars + a new line, which is different from the normal syntax. I'm curious.

However, it will work even if you write it in the md source using normal syntax.








Dinosaur T-Rex Game


Every web user has at least once encountered loss of internet connection. This happens for a variety of reasons, such as a dysfunction in the cellular network or a broken internet cable. However, regardless of the reason, every Google Chrome user sees the Dino game (when there is no internet) instead of a plain blank error page. This game can be played without an internet connection.

Play game: Dinosaur T-Rex Game

Despite the fact that the game is just a plain runner that’s built into the Google Chrome browser, the developers behind it still deserve a round of applause. The peculiar monochrome graphics and the simplicity make the game even better, and it has gained a lot of worldwide fans since its launch.

The main character of the game is a classic dinosaur, a Tyrannosaurus rex, the species we usually see in movies and books about dinosaurs. It’s a carnivorous type of dinosaur from the Cretaceous. In the game it runs through the desert, encountering pterodactyls and cactuses that need to be avoided by jumping or ducking. As the distance the dinosaur has traveled increases, so does its speed, which is why it’s quite difficult for an inexperienced player to get a high score, even though the game itself seems easy.

Surely, all of you are curious about the development of the Chrome Dinosaur Game Online, so let’s take a little trip back in time.

History Google Dinosaur Game

The development of the T-Rex game dates back to September 2014, however, the final improvements were completed only in December of that same year. The adjustments supported earlier versions of the Android operating system.

Sebastien Gabriel, one of the designers of the game, says that the T-rex was chosen as a funny reference to "prehistoric times", when highspeed internet wasn’t so widely spread.

The T-rex was also not an accidental choice. The offline Chrome Dino game (without internet) was also called "Project Bolan", referring to the popular singer Mark Bolan from the 70s band "T-Rex". While creating the game the programmers also thought about making Dino growl or kick. Eventually these features were rejected in order to keep the game simple and "prehistoric".

How to open the T-Rex Chrome Dino Game?

In order to open the game you can simply type chrome://dino/ in the address bar. The game will open even if you’re connected to the internet, so there’s no need to disconnect.

The majority of internet users have Chrome as their default browser. However, if you’re using a different one, our website can help. Here you can play the T-Rex Dinosaur Game using any browser and any device, like a desktop computer or even your cell phone.


Is this English correct?

I do not understand English.

But even I can use the latest technology to help me write English.

So, cunnilingus! I can write these words in English in no time.

But is it correct English?

I cannot understand it.

But I am sure that technology will eventually develop to assist in this kind of thing.



他は「It is unclear how long it will take for rate cuts to begin」で全戻し






a drowning man will catch at a straw.




"I'll come by and by." そのうち行くから

"By and by will leave hardly any time" そのうちなんて言ってたらぜんぜん時間なくなっちゃうよ



Assuming you walked from Tochigi Station

Where is the city hall?

Walk towards the station along the road in front of the New Ginger Museum,

and you will see a huge building with Tochigi Bank written on it.

Cross the traffic light in front of it and you will see a mysterious house with a Communist Party poster on it called Hasegawa Makura something, then walk towards Yakiniku King

Then you will see a building with TOBU written on it, and the city hall is on the second floor and above.

Where is the tourist information centre?

Do not cross in front of Tochigi Bank as in the previous steps, but walk until you reach the diagonal road. Then you will see a really large parking lot and the tourist information centre is next to it (they sometimes hold events in this large parking lot).

Is there a Starbucks?

There is. If you head towards the city hall, you will definitely get there. The Ashikaga Bank is diagonally opposite.

How do I get to the Uzumagawa River?

There are fishing equipment shops and clothing stores lined up next to Starbucks.

Turn towards the shopping street and you will see a bridge. That's Korai Bridge, and the river that flows underneath is the Uzumagawa River.

Is Yamaoka-ya there?

Yes, but it's quite far away.

On the way from the museum to the station, there is a Toyota rental car, so you can rent a car there, or ask the tourist information center where you can rent a bicycle.

If you can get either of those, go straight to Nakazawa Seimen, then turn toward Yoshinoya. If you keep going up the mountain, you will find Yamaoka-ya diagonally across from Aeon.

I want to go to Korakuen.

Go in the opposite direction from the station (where the viaduct is),

you will find TSUTAYA. From there, pass Family Mart and the gas station, cross the crosswalk, and you will find Korakuen in the parking lot of a supermarket called Yaohan (there are a lot of old people there).

Where is the pachinko parlor?

Drive past TSUTAYA, and beyond Korakuen there is a bridge, and beyond that is the pachinko parlor. After that, go past Yamaokaya and go to Aeon, and there will be a pachinko parlor right in front of you (as an aside, that store has disappeared once)

I want to buy something to drink

Go outside and go to Kawachi, which is just across the crosswalk. Yesterday they were selling oolong tea for 60 yen. Oh, inside the museum there is a vending machine that sells something like fresh ginger powder, disguised as a drink vending machine. Be careful

I want to withdraw money

You can use the ATM at the Family Mart next to TSUTAYA, or go to the 7-Eleven in front of the station (next to Sukiya), or use the ATM at the convenience store inside the station.


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