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はてなキーワード: YOUとは
Peter Barakanさん（@pbarakan）が9:12 午前 on 木, 7月 06, 2023にツイートしました:
京急さん、あまりのばかばかしさのため、聞くたびにいらいらするこの英語のアナウンスを直してください！
× This train bound for Haneda Airport. Passengers for Haneda Airport should take this train. Thank you.
○ The next train is for Haneda Airport.
（https://twitter.com/pbarakan/status/1676746010012577792?t=cd4plMG48UIbrXCy6elviA&s=03）
Peter Barakanさん（@pbarakan）が9:32 午前 on 木, 7月 06, 2023にツイートしました:
そういえば航空会社さんも、機内の英語のアナウンスの最後にどうしていつもThank youが入るのですか。英語圏では言わないことですし、非常に不自然です。Thank you for putting up with yet another annoying announcement that prevents you from concentrating on your book ということでしょうか。
（https://twitter.com/pbarakan/status/1676750941654224896?t=g2CF61nxAYliNslNWbDYMQ&s=03）
Peter Barakanさん（@pbarakan）が6:19 午後 on 木, 7月 06, 2023にツイートしました:
The doors on the right side will open
「右側のドアが開きます」なら
The doors will open on the right hand side
というべきだと思います。
（https://twitter.com/pbarakan/status/1676883482566623232?t=c1u1MyWiWTNP5oxAHQsn3w&s=03）
Compete? For what?
You are the only one who wouldn't be understood or be laughed at for your *unique English.
No one has to compete for that, don't you think?
Again, your view, expressed in your very own English is, a bit wierd.
you have to try to compete with me by NOT a word but a CONTETNT, can you understand?
even a child can blaming the wrong spell, cause even a fool can do it
i stated social problem, you just pointed out my word, which is more constructive?
your mounting style is typical ugly japanese way, are you aware of your ugliness?
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.
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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.
I must talk about various things regarding the Barbie incident.
I saw a post about it from someone who is neither directly involved nor from Nagasaki or Hiroshima, and it made me realize that there are things I must say.
I was born in Nagasaki and grew up listening to stories from the survivors, being a third-generation survivor myself. Most survivors are no longer with us, so I feel compelled to speak up.
In Nagasaki, kids grow up hearing about the atomic bomb. We were packed like sushi in a gymnasium without air conditioning or even fans during the scorching summer, and we listened to stories about the bomb. It was incredibly tough for me.
I imagine it was even harder for the elderly who spoke about their experiences. As a child, I couldn't fully comprehend their pain, and now, I can hardly remember most of the stories I heard. I can only recall one or two.
Every year during this time, gruesome images that would make PTA elsewhere go crazy were displayed in the hallways. I heard that many of the horrifying exhibits that used to traumatize visitors at the Atomic Bomb Museum have been removed, and the museum has been considerably sanitized. I'm not sure about the current situation, but that's how it was when I was there.
There was one photograph that I could never bear to look at as a child – a picture of Tadashi Taniguchi. You can find it if you search, but it's a shocking image with a viewer discretion warning. Still, I want people to see it.
I couldn't walk down the hallway where that photo was displayed, and I always took a different route, avoiding it so I wouldn't have to see it.
Now, I think of my grandpa who went to the ruins to search for my sister. He couldn't look away or take a different path. The pain must have been unimaginable.
Besides photographs, there were many living people moaning in pain back then, and there must have been even more who succumbed to suffering.
My grandpa walked for miles, pulling a handcart through the debris-laden streets of Nagasaki, searching for my sister.
Even though my grandpa was not a child, I'm sure there were elementary school kids who did similar things. I don't just think they might have been there; they were there. I heard the stories from the people themselves, and I still remember them.
I can't forget the stories I heard as a child, such as the young siblings finding their father's burnt corpse in the ruins and cremating him. They didn't have enough firewood, and their father ended up half-burnt. They ran away after seeing the brain tissue oozing out, and that became their final farewell.
I can never forget those stories I heard as a child, and even now, they still bring pain and suffering, making my hands tremble and tears flow.
I wonder how my grandpa, who ran away from that father's brain tissue, could expose his unimaginable trauma and everlasting scars to the world.
Now, I feel like I understand a little.
Even someone like me, who experienced such unimaginable trauma, has gone through pain that I can't even imagine being compared to being discarded, forgotten, and ignored. Compared to what those people experienced, my suffering means nothing.
My trembling hands and the palpitations and dizziness I experienced are nothing compared to the tremendous pain that many others went through.
Memories fade irreversibly every time they pass through people's lips. The memories that I couldn't bear to be forgotten are almost forgotten now.
The unimaginable pain that existed 78 years ago has mostly disappeared, and we can no longer pass it on.
The people who suffered the most from the atomic bomb perished in the ruins, rotting away without being able to convey it to anyone.
Even those who saw it with their own eyes mostly took the memories with them to their graves. Most of them are now under the tombstones.
Compared to the words of the elderly, my words seem so light. I think that speaking with such light words would be better than keeping silent, as silence has led to this result.
I feel like I might occasionally choose to stop imagining the unimaginable pain and consume the suffering of others in an amusing way to live on.
Before I forget the pain and suffering of those elderly people, whose faces and voices I can no longer recall, I will leave this here.
バービーとオッペンハイマーを合わせた #BARBENHEIMER ハッシュタグについてまとめた
togetter が Hatena のホットエントリに入ってるけど、
問題のある画像と、内容を読めば特に問題ないものが混じってるので翻訳を載せとく。
https://togetter.com/li/2196541
https://twitter.com/MovieMantz/status/1681176592507363328
まず↑については、
Now that I’ve seen #BARBENHEIMER, I highly recommend watching #BARBIE first, then #OPPENHEIMER!
#BARBENHEIMERのハッシュタグを見ちゃったから言っとくけど、まず『バービー』を見てから『オッペンハイマー』を鑑賞することを強くお勧めする。
“Barbie” is really fun, but “Oppenheimer” stays with you —
you don’t wanna be thinking about “Oppenheimer” while watching “Barbie!” (Or maybe you do?)
『バービー』はひたすら楽しいんだけど、『オッペンハイマー』はいつまでも心に残る映画だ。
『バービー』を観てる間も『オッペンハイマー』のことが頭を離れないなんてことになったら嫌でしょ？（気にしない人もいる？）
と述べた上で、例のコラージュ画像です。
これは、心置きなく『バービー』を楽しみたいのに『オッペンハイマー』のことが忘れられなくてダブって見えてしまう図ですよね？
つまり、『オッペンハイマー』を観て、原爆の恐怖、人類の罪が深く心に刻まれて、
『バービー』のようなおバカ映画を観てる最中でさえも、それが頭を離れないという状況…
それって問題ですか？
https://twitter.com/RishiSunak/status/1682812164111728643
The family vote was only ever going one way…
Barbie first it is #Barbenheimer
はい（いつもの通り、妻と娘の要望にしたがって今回も）まずは『バービー』を観るってことで決定
という内容だけど、まずスナク首相は「自分はオッペンハイマーを観て原爆についてじっくり考えたいんだけど…」
また、インド系は男尊女卑という偏見が根強くあるという文脈を押さえておくのも有益でしょう。
家族が妻と娘というのがポイントで、「ちゃんと話しあった上で、女性の意見を尊重してますよ」
ということをユーモアを交えて言っている側面もある。
そういう画像を作ったらどうだと提案したのは親父だ。「いいね」をしたら親父と同じ価値観ということになる、
みたいな説明をしてて、「いいね」するなよと仄めかしてる節がある。
それで、逆にみんなが面白がって「いいね」したというか、最初からそれを狙ってた
（押すなよ！絶対に押すなよ！！と言いながら押されるのを待ってるやつ）
のかもしれないけど…
とにかく、不謹慎（親次世代は許容されたかもしれないが今はダメ）なのはわかってるっぽい
ただ、これについてはアウトだと思う。
バービー公式アカウントが「スタイリストの Ken がここにも」的な反応するのは完全にアウト。
無視すべきでした。
C・ロナウドに「大谷翔平知っている？」ズムサタ国本梨紗の質問が波紋
https://hayabusa9.5ch.net/test/read.cgi/mnewsplus/1690619075/l50
今の日本人はかつての経済的成功による自尊心と現在の国力衰退による劣等感で板挟みの状態になってる
だから「僕たちまだすごいよね？まだ落ちぶれてないよね？みんな僕たちがすごい存在だって言ってよ！」と、海外に対して自国の価値の高さをしきりに確認しようと躍起になっている
「youは何しに日本へ」みたいな日本すごい系のテレビ番組もその一種で、「わざわざ海外から来てくれるなんて日本はまだ価値がある国なんだ」と確認したくてたまらないわけ
幼少期は他の子供より抜きん出ていたのに、成長するにつれて追い抜かされてしまいアイデンティティの危機に陥っている中学生みたいなメンタリティなんだよ今の日本は
アメリカの「俺の国のことなんて知ってて当たり前だろ？」みたいな尊大な態度も考えものだが、少なくとも日本のキョロ充みたいなみっともない精神性よりはマシ
https://b.hatena.ne.jp/site/anond.hatelabo.jp
で動くスクリプトでたとえば投稿後10分以内にブクマされページに乗ったら「1 user」が「1 user セルクマ 1とか5(何分後にブクマされたか)」になる。もしマイナスなら誤判定なので無視して。
時間を置いたセルクマには効かないし普通のファーストブクマカがどれぐらいの頻度で確認してるかしらないけど5分以内や1分以内もポロポロあるのでまあ目安に。
.forEach(div => {
('.entrylist-contents-title > a')
とかの
を
<>
に変えてね
他にも見落としあるかも
誤判定が減るから非公開ファーストブクマを判定できたらいいんだけどね。
// ==UserScript== // @name hatebu masuda selkmark // @namespace http://tampermonkey.net/ // @version 0.1 // @description 特定時間以内にブクマされた増田を強調する // @author You // @match https://b.hatena.ne.jp/site/anond.hatelabo.jp* // @grant none // ==/UserScript== (function() { 'use strict'; const threshold = 60 * 10 // 何秒以内か const domain = 'https://anond.hatelabo.jp/' const dateTemplate = '202301020304' // 時分まで urlの時刻表記 const dateTest = new RegExp('\\d{' + dateTemplate.length + '}') document.querySelectorAll('div.entrylist-contents').forEach(div => { const masuda = div.querySelector('.entrylist-contents-title > a') const dateStr = masuda.href.substring(domain.length + dateTemplate.length, domain.length) if (!dateTest.test(dateStr)) { // キーワードとか console.log('not diary', dateStr) return } // new Dateできるように変換 // https://amateur-engineer.com/javascript-date-yyyymmddhhmm/ const year = parseInt(dateStr.substring(0, 4)) const month = parseInt(dateStr.substring(4, 6)) const day = parseInt(dateStr.substring(6, 8)) const hour = parseInt(dateStr.substring(8, 10)) const min = parseInt(dateStr.substring(10, 12)) const date = new Date(year, month - 1, day, hour, min) const bukumaDate = new Date(div.querySelector('.entrylist-contents-date').textContent) // 2023/01/23 00:00 const diffSec = (bukumaDate - date) / 1000 // ms to sec if (diffSec > threshold) { return } // ブクマ数 user const user = div.querySelector('span.entrylist-contents-users a').lastChild user.textContent += ' セルクマ ' + (diffSec / 60) // 古い記事がマイナスになる でも2015年ぐらいの記事までかな？新着はセーフ臭い /* if(diffSec < 0) { user.textContent += ' 異常差分:' + diffSec } */ }) })();
「All your base are belong to us.」は、2001年から2002年にかけてインターネットで流行した言葉の一つであり、インターネット上で起こった現象（ミーム）の中で最も有名なものの一つである[1]。短縮して「All Your Base」、「AYBABTU」または「AYB」とも呼ばれる。
この文は、「君達の基地は、全て我々がいただいた。」という日本語の文の稚拙な英訳からきている。原典は日本の東亜プランによって1989年に作られたコンピュータゲーム『ゼロウィング』の、1992年に発売されたヨーロッパ向けのメガドライブ版のオープニングデモである。なお、元々のアーケード版やPCエンジン版にはこの語句はない。また、北米ではアーケード版はウィリアムスより発売されていたが、家庭版はリリースされていない。
東亜プランのゲーム開発者だった弓削雅稔は、当時同社の貿易担当の営業員にかなり英語力が怪しい人物がおり、その人が考えた文かもしれないと語っている[2]。
“All your base are belong to us.”という英文は、英語を母語とする人にとっては片言であり、シリアスな画面との対比のおかしさ、企業がこんな間違った英語を校閲せずに載せたものを売ってしまうという意外性、あるいはその文章自体のインパクトによって一気に流行することになった。一部では「その言葉は間違っているよ」という意味合いを込めて使われる。
https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_your_base_are_belong_to_us
2003年にPC向けに発売されたカーアクションゲーム『Big Rigs: Over the Road Racing』で表示される文言。文法的には「You're the Winner」または「You're a Winner」と冠詞を付けるのが正しい。『Big Rigs』は史上最悪のクソゲーとして名高いタイトルであり、ネット上のレビューでも、最低点、もしくは皮肉を込めて最高点（嫌いな知人への贈り物に最適、など）を付けられているものが大半である。この英語も本作のクオリティーの低さが垣間見えるテキストとして頻繁にネタにされている。開発を手がけたStellar Stone社（2006年に閉鎖）はカリフォルニア所在であったが、ロシアの開発会社へ外注したためにこのような Engrish が生まれたといわれている。
http://wearebottoms.blog53.fc2.com/blog-entry-481.html
