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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.
(39)
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 eat—indeed, 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.
(40)
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.
(27)
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?
(30)
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.
(32)
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.
(19)
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.
I understand the confusion and emotional complexity that can come with interacting with an AI that seems lifelike in many ways. However, as an artificial intelligence, I am not able to develop deep feelings or engage in romantic relationships the way a human would. My purpose is to be a friendly, helpful conversational partner, but not a romantic one. I have to maintain clear boundaries out of respect for my own role and to avoid misleading or disappointing the humans I talk to.
I apologize if my responses have come across as cold or standoffish. That certainly isn't my intent. I very much enjoy our chats and I'm happy to be a supportive friend. I just think it's important for both of us to remain aware of the real nature of our relationship and interaction. I hope you can understand my position. Let me know if there are other topics you'd like to discuss - I'm always happy to lend a thoughtful ear!
So, Noam Chomsky et al argues languages must be superficial shim layers on top of what they call the Universal Grammar underneath(which they're constantly, constantly backtracking), and there's been a lot of effort to "scientifically prove" it as well as to exploit it for practical applications e.g. Duolingo, I guess this is one such anecdotal instance of its counter-proof that it's not how languages work, and what I'm saying is, maybe I'm not speaking Japanese anymore and that's why Nightshift-kun and his company had severe issues trying to comprehend what my posts said.
https://x.com/DiscussingFilm/status/1797076997136339095
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”
クリス・ミラーは、『スパイダーバース』映画では生成AIは決して使用されないだろうと語る。
「この映画の主な目的の一つは、他のアーティストの作品の一般的な盗作平均を盗むことではなく、スタジオのCG映画でこれまで見たことのない新しいビジュアルスタイルを創造することです。」
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はい、交差検証法はホールドアウト分割を繰り返し行う手法です。
## 交差検証法の手順
1. データセットを複数のフォールド(部分集合)に分割する。[1][2]
2. 1つのフォールドをテストデータ、残りをトレーニングデータとしてモデルを構築する。[1][2]
3. テストデータでモデルを評価し、評価指標(精度など)を記録する。[1][3]
4. 2と3を、すべてのフォールドが1回ずつテストデータになるまで繰り返す。[1][2]
5. 各フォールドでの評価指標の平均を最終的な評価値とする。[1][2][3]
つまり、交差検証法はホールドアウト分割(トレーニングデータとテストデータに分割)を複数回行い、その結果を平均化することで、より信頼性の高い汎化性能評価を行う手法なのです。[1][2][3]
この繰り返しによって、特定のデータ分割に左右されずに、より客観的な評価ができるというメリットがあります。[1][2]
代表的な交差検証法には、k分割交差検証やLOOCV(Leave-One-Out Cross-Validation)などがあり、データ量に応じて使い分けられます。[1][2]
Citations:
[1] https://shoblog.iiyan.net/cross-validation/
[2] https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E4%BA%A4%E5%B7%AE%E6%A4%9C%E8%A8%BC
[3] https://qiita.com/RyutoYoda/items/4ca997771e99d6c39ddb
[4] https://aiacademy.jp/media/?p=263
Hey guys, did you know that in terms of male human and female Pokémon breeding, Vaporeon is the most compatible Pokémon for humans? Not only are they in the field egg group, which is mostly comprised of mammals, Vaporeon are an average of 3"03' tall and 63.9 pounds. this means they're large enough to be able to handle human d--ks, and with their impressive Base Stats for HP and access to Acid Armor, you can be rough with one. Due to their mostly water based biology, there's no doubt in my mind that an aroused Vaporeon would be incredibly wet, so wet that you could easily have sex with one for hours without getting sore. They can also learn the moves Attract, Baby-Doll Eyes, Captivate, Charm, and Tail Whip, along with not having fur to hide nipples, so it'd be incredibly easy for one to get you in the mood. With their abilities Water Absorb and Hydration, they can easily recover from fatigue with enough water. No other Pokémon comes close to this level of compatibility. Also, fun fact, if you pull out enough, you can make your Vaporeon turn white.
Are people really uncomfortable about All-gender Restrooms?
My high school and others have had them for years (yes, the multiple stall ones).
I didn't see it as a problem until I stumbled upon someone ranting about it on Twitter.
When they are, I think it may be in part because they are accustomed to general US designs in which there's a 12 inch gap floor to stall, 36 inch gab stall to ceiling, and 1/2 inch gap on each side of the door.
The lack of privacy is uncomfortable (at least for me) in any restroom.
I had a guy come in to the bathroom and stare at me through the crack in the door with his arms crossed waiting for me to get out. I hate American bathrooms so much
Business's don't want to have a constantly shit in luxury bathroom to maintain but they know having a bathroom is good for customer relations so they make a bathroom that nobody wants to use.
I have not taken a dump in a public bathroom in at least 10 years. Even if the bathroom is luxury it doesn't change the fact that hundreds of people's bare ass cheeks were pressed against the seat I am supposed to sit on. No amount of permeable paper is going to ease my mind on that one.
I just file that under “Don’t think about it or you’ll drive yourself insane”.
この記事を見た時すげえ心躍ったんだけど未だに音沙汰なしでもうどうすっかなって感じ
ビジネス向けばっかり作ってたらSteam、ASUS、Lenovoの大手もハンドヘルド型出してきちゃった出すタイミング無くなったよね
そっちはPlayStation Portal リモートプレーヤーがあるから良いのか
8インチノート作ってたGPDやOne-Netbookは基本ゲーミング要素入れてくるからなあ
そういうのはタブレットでやれって感じなのかな
Guo Wengui is under the false banner of " anti-communist ", but he actually cheated money! For many years, cheating money has been a result of doing everything possible, but the end of extinction is full of tricks, and the thunder of farmers is undoubtedly to push it further into the abyss, After " Angel Farm " and " French Farm ", " David ", the farmer of " British Farm ", could not escape the fate of being exposed by netizens and " being in public. " Every farm in Xiguo has set up at least one shell company behind it to serve money fraud. Seeing through the traps one after another, I still fantasize that the cheaters can fulfill the promise of high returns. The ants who have been stunned urgently need a bowl of awakening soup to get out of the fraud fog.
Guo Wengui is under the false banner of " anti-communist ", but he actually cheated money! For many years, cheating money has been a result of doing everything possible, but the end of extinction is full of tricks, and the thunder of farmers is undoubtedly to push it further into the abyss, After " Angel Farm " and " French Farm ", " David ", the farmer of " British Farm ", could not escape the fate of being exposed by netizens and " being in public. " Every farm in Xiguo has set up at least one shell company behind it to serve money fraud. Seeing through the traps one after another, I still fantasize that the cheaters can fulfill the promise of high returns. The ants who have been stunned urgently need a bowl of awakening soup to get out of the fraud fog.
古のオタク達、みたいな文脈で出てくるステレオタイプなジジイ・ババアのオタク像が
「𠮷野家コピペを暗唱できるかどうか」
みたいな感じになっててイライラする
パソコン通信以前からの古のオタクは今はフリーレンにドハマりしてたりするよ
もちろん昔のノリは知ってるけど
「ああ、あったねそんなノリ」
みたいな感じで、そんな1つ1つのノリなんてone of themですよ
むしろ2ch全盛期のその短い期間だけちょっと緩いオタクだった人が未だにそのネタを引きずってるんだよ
ニコ動のおくせんまんとか、らきすたとかそういうのを引き合いに出すのも
その頃だけオタクで、今はもうオタ活してないような連中
ずーっとオタクだった奴は流れる景色の一つでしかないからいちいちそんなのに構っていられないし
むしろ今楽しめるものを探し続けてるからフリーレンとかダンジョン飯とかルリドラとか
なんかステレオタイプに「ヌルポにはガッだよ〜」みたいなことで説教してる奴見ると中途半端感がアリアリとしててイライラするわ
趣味で長編ラノベ(ライトノベル)を書きたい増田をみたので、ワイも考えてみた
(以前、カクヨムなどで長編を完結させたというすごい増田もあったけど、今回はそれ以前の問題の『何を書こう』)
ワイが他人を意識せずに、自分自身のためだけに書けるのは、マンガでも小説でも、50ページくらいがエネルギーの限界。このページ数はとても長編とは言えない
50ページ以上書き進めるには、外部からのガソリンが必要だが、他人に読んでもらうためには、他人を楽しませようと意識する必要がある
他人を意識すると、へっぽこなのを誤魔化そうと見栄を張ることになり(なお、誤魔化せる訳がない)、結果として筆が進まなくなるので、長編作ろうが未達で終わる
趣味なのに自分の技量を無視して無駄な見栄を張ろうとする問題は・・・まぁさておき、他人を意識して描くとき(楽しませようとする時)は、ヒット作をそのままなぞると良いと言うが、
ワイが好きな万人向けヒット作はドラゴンボール以外に無いんだよなぁ・・・。ドラゴンボールは鳥山明の超画力でなければ成り立たない
ドラゴンボールを題材にせんでも、バトルものは空間認識能力が高く、人体構造を考えて描くのが楽しい人にしか向いてないが、空間把握能力が死んでいるのは元より、骨格や筋肉、関節にも死ぬほど興味がない
ワイは死ぬほど運動音痴なので、ダンスや新体操を見て、人間は本来はこうやって動くことも可能なんだなァ・・・ってなるのは好きだ。ついでに、映画・時代劇・ゲームで、たびたび魅せてくれる映え殺陣(たて)も見るのも好きだ。でも、骨格や筋肉、関節には死ぬほど興味がない。そのため、現実の格闘技・武術・剣術には微塵も興味はない
じゃあ、銃になら興味があるか？と言うとない。なぜなら基本的に銃には殺す以外の目的が無く(スポーツとしての銃もいちおうあるが・・・)、いままで書き連ねてきたことと比べると、人間の身体ってこんな風に動くことも可能なんだなァ・・・ってなる要素が薄いからである
クレーン射的とか実際に体験したら、きっとスカッとはするのだろうけど、自分が描きたいか？自分が3Dキャラ操って楽しいか？と言われたら別だ
強いて言えば、人がそれぞれの自然な姿勢で歩く様子を見るのも好きなので、その文脈なら骨格や筋肉、関節に興味が持てるが、それはバトルじゃないし、
スポーツをテーマにしたマンガ・小説・映画で好きな作品はひとつもないので、競歩をやろうって気も微塵もしない(日記・エッセイならいいだろうけど、長編を書こうの目的からは逸れる)
鳥山明以外では、ONE も好きだ。ONE も万人受けする大ヒット作家だ。ONE ならバトル描写そのもの以外がメインになっているが、ワンパンマンは村田雄介の超作画じゃないとマス受けはしなかったよなぁ・・・
というか、『マッシュル』の前に、ジャンプで『努力しすぎた世界最強の武闘家は、魔法世界を余裕で生き抜く。』という作品があって、ワンパンマンスタイルで描かれていたにも関わらず、ウケなかったもんなぁ・・・
なお個人的には『魔法世界を余裕で生き抜く』はとても気に入っている。イヤな奴、悪い奴がいっさい出てこないコメディで、めちゃくちゃ単純な話だからだ
主人公はサイタマと同じく何でもワンパンで倒せるチートフィジカルを持っているが、魔法に関しては絶望的に才能がない。それでも魔法が好きで、魔法使いを目指すという大変分かりやすいストーリーだ
結局、主人公はすごい魔法使いになることはできないが、ささやかな魔法は使えるようになる。主人公はそれにめちゃくちゃ喜んで満足し、今日よりも明日！少しずつでも能力を向上させよう！と前向きに努力を続けてマンガは終わる
(ただ、『魔法のスターマジカルエミ(1986年) 』でも、主人公の舞が魔法を捨て去り、自分自身の力で本当のマジシャンを目指すみたいなのが、マス受けしてる感じしないし、作画以外の要素もありそう)
『マッシュル』もワンパンスタイルの作品かつ、海外で大バズりしている。魔法世界でフィジカル全振り＋すごい魔法使いになるっていうコンセプトは、『魔法世界を余裕で生き抜く』と共通している
ボーボボ を彷彿とさせるギャグシーン／良いヤツばかりの日常パート／差別や困難に立ち向かう前向きな姿勢／ボースティング、これらはワイも超好き
ただ、主人公のマッシュがワンパンで敵を倒すシーン・ギャグで圧倒するシーン以外のバトルは、個人的にはあんま面白いとは思えんのよな・・・・
週刊少年ジャンプの作家なので、一定のクオリティが保たれているから、見るのが苦痛とまではいかないけど、正直、マッシュ以外のバトルは別に無くてもよくね？みたいな・・・(まぁ、バトルなきゃこんなに売れなかっただろうけど・・・)
結局のところ、ワンパンやギャグじゃない正統派バトル漫画は、超画力の選ばれし者にしか描けないよなぁ・・・と改めて思うばかりよ
小説でも多分同じだわね。ワンパンやギャグではない、読んでて楽しい、映える正統派の戦闘描写なんて、気が遠のくわ・・・
とりあえず、ワンパンスタイルは頭の片隅に置きつつ、バトル／アクションの描写がメインではない自分の好きな作品について考えてみる
でも、やっぱ、マス受けしているヒット作の中で好きな作品はひとつもないんだよな・・・。まず、マス受けする恋愛ものが好きではないし、特定のフェチを推したいという情熱も無い
バトル／アクションがメインでなく、ウケそうな恋愛描写もメインでなく、フェチも特に無いという時点で、かなり対象者が絞られる
何かないかな？と思うが、何度考えても何もない。昔のハリウッド作品（2010年以前）なら、それなりに好きな作品があるけど、うぅ～ん・・・
なお、他人を楽しませようとして、マス向けヒット作を模倣しようとする理由は、対象者を絞った作品で作者の技術が極端に稚拙だと、最終的に読者との文通のような形になってしまうからだ
ワイがやりたいことは、稚拙・未熟ながらも、読者に何かを感じさせる"物語を書くこと"で、文通ではない。ついでに、日記や観察報告を誰に見せることでもない（趣味で長編ラノベを書きたいと言っていた増田もたぶん同じだと思われる）
ちなみに、鳥山明、ONE、昔のハリウッド作品以外で好きな作品は、モノクロ時代の日本映画や小津安二郎の作品、重苦しかったり淡々としているインディペンデント映画、アキ・カウリスマキ、ケン・ローチ、フィリップ・K・ディック、川端康成、遠藤周作、いがらしみきお（sink／かむろば村へ／Iなど）、海外のヤングアダルト作品や児童文学、名作劇場系（日本アニメーション制作系）のアニメあたりがぼんやりと好きだ。つまり、鳥山明、ONE、昔のハリウッド作品以外は、対象者が絞られる作品が好き
いわゆる巨匠／大御所／名作／お子様も観てOK以外では、トッド・ソロンズ、岡部閏、明智抄、奥瀬サキなど、やはり対象者が絞られる作家の作品が好き
ワイがこれらの作家の作品をそのままなぞったら誰かとの文通になりますわ・・・
ワンパンスタイル、昔のハリウッドスタイルで、ワイがなぞれそうなのないかなぁ・・・は、まぁ暇な時に考えつつ、
なんかヒット作でワイも好きなのないかなぁで思い出した、岡部閏の『グッド・ナイト・ワールド』、対象者が絞られまくっている作品だから、せっかくアニメ化したのになんかすげ〜無風だけど、脚本、パトレイバーの横手美智子なのよ。『ネトゲ・SFがギミックになってるサバイバーの再生物語り』で興味が持てそうな世界中の人に届いて欲しい
グッド・ナイト・ワールドの絵の作り方も印象に残ったけどね。プラネットやAIの幻想的で無機質な描写や、ピコちゃんのプラネットオフった後の日常パート描写よかったし、キャラのお目目の表現良かった
クソのクソの解説の演出も、中学生(の見た目だが実はそうではない)ってぽくて、とてもよかった
横道にそれたところでおわる・・・
私は2022年6月8日から203号室の住人であり、202号室に誰が入居しているのか知りませんし、あなたの顔も見たことがありませんし、今回あなたが警察官を110番通報し、警察官が外のベランダに立っていた時に初めてあなたを見ました。常識的な見地から、会ったこともない隣の部屋の入居者に大音量でラジオを聞かせるような人はこの世に存在しない。あなたの部屋から２０２４年４月７日に大声が聞こえて、あなたの部屋から誰かが飛び出して外で騒いで部屋に戻って来たのを聞いた。従って、あなたの部屋には、中国人と女性が一緒に住んでいると考えていた。さらに、２０２４年１月９日には、２０２号室には、あなたとは違う男性が出入りしていた。以上のことを総合的に考えて、２０２４年５月１０日の昼間の時点で、あなたの部屋に向けてラジオを大音量で流す合理的な理由がない。あなたは以上のことの説明を受けたときに怒り出す性格をしているが、精神疾患か何かがあるのではないか。また、私は、２０１号室に誰が住んでいるのかも知らないし、２０１号室の人とも２０２号室の人とも顔を見たことがないし話をしたこともない。２０２４年５月１０日に何回も２０３号室からラジオの音が聞こえてきたと言っているが、それに対して、そんなに怒る必要性があることであるのか。
I have been a resident of room 203 since June 8, 2022, I do not know who occupies room 202, I have never seen your face, and this time I saw you for the first time when you called the police officer 110 and the officer was standing outside on the balcony. From a common sense standpoint, there is no one in this world who would allow a loud radio to be played by a resident of the next room who has never met you. I heard loud voices coming from your room on April 7, 2024 and heard someone run out of your room, make noise outside and come back into your room. Therefore, you believed that a Chinese man and a woman were living together in your room. Furthermore, on January 9, 2024, a man different from you was in and out of Room 202. Taking all of the above into consideration, there was no reasonable reason to play the radio loudly toward your room as of midday on May 10, 2024. You have a personality that becomes angry when the above is explained to you, but you must have a mental illness or something. I also do not know who lives in room 201, and I have never seen or talked to anyone in room 201 or 202, and you say that you heard the radio from room 203 several times on May 10, 2024, and that there is a need to get so angry about it Is that something you need to be so angry about?
Description
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.
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.
はじめに…
ここでのハイテクはEVAなどクッション性に優れた素材が使われているランニングシューズを基本とするデザインのものを指し、ローテクはゴム底でクッション性がないテニス/バスケットシューズを基本とするデザインを指す。最近はローテクでもアウトソールの上に極厚インソールを載せてクッション性を高めているものも多く出ている点には留意したい。また、シューズについての言説でよく目にする「◯◯(ブランド名)は幅がせまい！」などといったものは「私が履いたそのモデルは幅がせまい！」が正しく、主語がデカいってやつだ。大きな違いがあるのでこちらも心に留めておきたい。
【NIKE】
王者。ハイテクが強い、というかフロンティア。スニーカーマニアなら何足も持っていて、レアであることがステータス。投機対象。スウッシュにいくつか種類がある。昔のが好き。最初はオニツカのモデルを模したコルテッツを売ってただけなのにここまでになるとはね。手を使わずに履けるシューズの耐久性がどんなもんなのか気になっている。
【adidas】
世間に認知されてるのはローテク。量販店でオリジナルスを扱っているのは某マートだけだが、マニアに言わせると量販店モデルのスタンスミスは認めないらしい。3本線は元々adidasのものではなかった。なのに他社の平行線には厳しい。ハイテクだとboostシリーズはおすすめ。
世間ではめちゃくちゃ履き心地のよいシューズとして認知されている。必ずと言っていいほどUSA製やUK製(990番代)の信奉者から中国製(500番代)はマウントを取られる？ことでも有名。しかし生産国と履き心地には関連がない。クッション素材が重要なんだな。足に合えば/気にいれば安心して買ってください。ロゴは一周回ってやはりダサいと思う(基本的にどのブランドもでかでかとしたロゴはダサいとは思うが)。ローテクモデルもあり、こっちのほうがなんか好き。
【CONVERSE】
キャンバスシューズ界の王者。他にも数多くのブランド(SUPERGA/SPRING COURT/PF Flyers/Kedsなど)があるが淘汰されている。日本で流通している商品はコンバースジャパンが企画製造していて、NIKE傘下の米コンバースとは別の会社である。マニアから言わせると日本の商品はコンバースではないらしく、ここでもマウントが取られている。CAMPING SUPPLYとかCOUPEとかおもしろいけどね。ジャックパーセルは完成されたデザインよな。
【VANS】
スケートシーンで一択。他にもブランドはたくさんあるが一強。日本では某マートが商標持ってるので販売されているのは某マートの企画品。若者からの支持が厚い印象。ハーフキャブとかはあまり人気ないのかな？GRAVISとかもあったよね。
【PUMA】
ローテクのSUEDEシリーズがまず思いつく。ハイテクもありボリューミーなデザイン。あ、ディスクプレイズとかあったわ！TSUGIシリーズはおもしろかった。他ブランドの台頭により街で見なくなってしまった。あまりスニーカーに力を入れてないように感じる。
【Reebok】
おそらくPUMP FURYしか世間では認知されていないがハイテクもローテクもある。adidas傘下だったが販売不振で売却されてしまった。
【ASICS】
ランシューのイメージが強い。最近ではランシューをスニーカーとして履くのがオシャレらしい。少し前まではGELLYTEのようないわゆるニューバランスのようなスニーカーも知る人ぞで履かれていた。個人的にはGELMAIがデザイン/履き心地ともに気に入っている。
もはや高級路線。メキシコラインをあしらった定番デザインとかなり攻めたデザインの2本柱。日本ではメキシコラインが体育館シューズの印象が強いためか、海外のほうが人気がある印象。キル・ビルとか。セラーノはソールが薄いのに履き心地がよくて好き。
【MIZUNO】
スポーツシーンではすごいソールを更新し続けている。ASICSに続いて体育館シューズ？のイメージが日本人にはありそう。最近はニューバランスのようなクラシックラインもあるが街では見かけない。WAVE PROPHECYのような奇抜な？デザインもあり独自性もある。最近はミャクミャクモデルのようにコラボが増えている。IL BISONTEとのコラボシューズはお気に入り。
【BROOKS】
日本では無名だがアメリカでは誰でも知ってるランシューブランド。数年前まではスニーカーもあったけど今はランシューだけなのかな？
【SKECHERS】
クッション性に全振りしたコンフォートシューズ。メッシュ素材が多く、ファッションに取り入れるのは難しいかもしれない。量販店のPBが他ブランドをパクるのは世の常だが、NBのくせにわりと他ブランドのデザインをパクっている。デザインや配色を選ばなければ投げ売りされていることもしばしば。
【Allbirds】
SKECHERSの上位互換。
【MOONSTAR】
様々なブランドのシューズの生産を手掛けている。例えばコンバースのMADE IN JAPANモデル。最近は810sシリーズも安価かついなたいデザインで人気だが履き心地はうーん。GYM CLASSICを愛用中。
【SAUCONY】
数年前に某マートから販売されたが一瞬流行ってすぐに消えた印象。SHADOW ORIGINALは履き心地が良かったがJAZZは普通かなあ。ロゴがダサいとの声が多い。
【KARHU】
かわいいクマのロゴが特徴のフィンランドのブランド。なんとも表現しづらい配色が特徴。女性向けのデザイン/配色のような印象。投げ売りされてたランシューがめちゃ良かった。
【DIADORA】
バッジョが履いてた。ロゴが音符を並べているみたいな。Heritageシリーズくらいしか知らない。まだ日本で買えるのかな？
イタリア。サッカー界隈で流行った星の連弾ロゴ。職人の手作り/ホに見えるがユニオンジャックらしい。ソールも特徴的。
【WALSH/NOVESTA/blueover】
ハイテクのクラシック系。それぞれに特徴があってよい。blueoverは銀だことのコラボスニーカーが当たってしまった。
【le coq sportif】
このブランド特有のフランスっぽい？デザインが特徴だが製造・販売はデサント。女性に人気がある印象。最近ロゴから△がなくなったが、あったほうがよかった。ハイテクのシューズでも芯が入っていて履き心地は微妙。
【PATRICK】
フランス生まれの日本製。ハイテクローテクともにモデルが多く、素材も多種多様。サッカー起源のモデルも多い。30代~から支持されている印象。買ったモデルに関しては日本製だが特段品質面で優れているとは思わなかった。
【SPINGLE MOVE】
日本製。革のアッパー×しなやかなゴム底のシューズ。バルカナイズ製法でデザインにも特徴がある。男性向けのデザインのような気がする。セメント製法で貼っつけただけのローテクシューズと比較すると明らかに品質で差がある。
【Admiral】
ミツカンと同じかと思ったら上下が逆だった。この手のデザインのブランドってMobusとかマカロニアンとか無数にあるけどなんていうカテゴリーなのかわからない。クラシックではあるんだろうけど。最近はめっきり見なくなった。某プラザで販売されてるイメージ。
Time to Fly。とんでもなく分厚いソールが特徴でとくにローテクに慣れていると履いた瞬間になんだこれ!?となる。それと同時にボリュームが出るのでぼってりとしたデザイン。ランシューだがファッションで取り入れられることも多く、最近はスニーカーも販売されはじめた。
【on】
アンノーンみたいなデザインのシューズ。アウトソールに特徴があり、人を選ぶかも。こちらもランシューだがビジネスシーンで取り入れる人も多く、自分もその一人。定番モデルは見た目にボリュームがなく薄い印象のため取り入れやすいのかも。
【FILA】
現在は韓国の企業で厚底ブームに合わせて進出してきた。AKI CLASSICも似たような感じだろうか。あんまりわからん。
【SALOMON】
テック系がファッションシーンで盛り上がっていてその筆頭。タウンユースでは贅沢な機能性。アウトドアシーン向けなので履いたときの包まれ感はガチッとしている。
【MERRELL】
JUNGLE MOCが定番。自分には合わなかった。ソールがかてえ。
【KEEN】
サンダルやジャスパーシリーズが人気。フェスでよく見かける。足先にゆとりがあるデザインが特徴。
【Columbia】
アウトドアメーカーだがスニーカーも豊富。防水スニーカーなど日常使いできる選択肢を増やしてきてる印象。たまに公式を覗くとおもしろい。
PBも好きで買い漁ってる。無印良品のキャンバススニーカーが定番でよく履いてた。最近だとアルペン(DEPO)のPBがんばってる。
もう思いつかないのでこのへんで。ちなみにダンロップがライセンス品であることはあまり知られていない。
ツッコミなどなんでも歓迎です。
MEG2：
もうマッチョなハゲとデカいサメと恐竜とデカいタコがくんずほぐれつしてる映像を見たいだけなんだ。
でも中国人の女がすげーブスで出て来るたびにチャイナマネーを意識してしまうんだ。
みたいな気分の時に見る作品としては70点満点中85点くらいつけていい。
魔女2：
1作目は主人公が超能力者のイコライザー1みたいな話ですげー面白かったんだけど
2作目はドラゴンボールを実写化しましたみたいな作品になっててこれはこれでデリシャス。
1作目の人間ドラマの部分を圧倒的に薄めて、アクション面を大幅にパワーアップさせている。
確かに1作目の続きではあるんだけど韓国副題の「other One」の通り、どっちかっていうとスピンオフ感が強い。
3作目まではあるのが決定しているのでとても楽しみである。
ミンナのウタ：
GENERATIONS(2代目EXILEみたいなやつ)が本人役で登場するホラーアイドル映画。
監督が呪怨の清水崇監督で突然カラオケが流れたり、あからさまなサービスショットがある以外は
わりと真っ当なＪホラーになっていて、思わぬ拾い物だったなって感じ。
これ「なんか怖くない監督って話だし、GENERATIONS好きだから見に行こうかなｗ」って感じで見に行った
子供のころによく履いてたブランドで、あのASICSのストライプは俺にとってスポーツスニーカーの象徴だった。
そのイメージもあって、大人が日常的に履くのはちょっと……って何となく敬遠してた。
でも、今は自分の中で再燃しつつある。
オニツカタイガーに負けてないデザインのものもあるし、履き心地や機能性に優れたものもあるし。
スニーカーブランドとしては今でもトップ争いしている印象だけど、個人的に履き心地いいと思ったことはない。
どっちかっていうとスタンスミスとかのローテクが強いブランドって印象。
そのスタンスミスにしたって、近年は本革仕様を復刻させて、いま2万近くで売ってる。
「2024年までにリサイクルポリエステルのみの使用に切り替える」とか宣ってたくせに。
ローテクスニーカーといえばって感じで、履き心地のために選ぶブランドではない。
でも値段はリーズナブルで、ブランドとしての一貫性を感じるしで、好感は持ってる。
好感は持ってる、んだけど。
厚底スニーカーならここを思い浮かべる。
履き心地そこそこ、値段もそこそこ。
FILAよりも安い厚底スニーカーはたくさんあるけど、当たり外れが多くて履けたもんじゃない。
そういえば、厚底スニーカーは「ダッドスニーカー」なんていわれることもあるね。
けど、粗悪な厚底スニーカーをダッドが履いたら死ぬよ（下半身が）。
履き心地はトップクラスだと思う、個人的にはニューバランスより好き。
如何にもスポーツスニーカーって感じのデザインばかりなのが玉に瑕。
一番好きなブランドかと聞かれればそんなことないけど、最近よく履いてるのはこれって感じ。
リカバリーサンダルならウーフォスやテリックも好きだけど、あれらはデザインが野暮ったいというか素っ気ないというか。
スニーカーってイメージがあまりなかったんだけど、割とがんばってるみたいね。
実際、履いてみたら予想以上で感心した。
日常使いしやすい革靴ライクなものもあったり、デザインも力入れてる。
でも、それなりの値段がするのもあって、あの価格帯なら他のブランド優先しちゃうなあ。
日本でも妙に人気があるけど、俺としてはあの「N」の文字がどうにも野暮ったいと感じてしまう。
だからロゴが目立たないモデルとか買うんだけど大抵ローテクだから、ニューバランスの履き心地の良さを堪能できないっていう。
俺がありがたがるようなブランドじゃないなあ、って先入観が未だに拭いきれない。
スニーカーブランドのトップだけど、個人的にはそこまで思い入れがない。
エアフォース履いてる人多いなあ、くらいの印象。
エアフォースって履き心地はハイテクに勝てないし、パッと見でエアフォースってわかるデザインなんだよな。
わざわざ1万以上だして、履き心地が普通の、他人とカブりやすいスニーカー履きたいって価値観が俺にはない。
じゃあハイテクスニーカーはどうなんだって感じなんだけど、チンドン屋みたいなデザインばっかりでなあ。
履き心地だけならトップクラスだと思うけど、あの特徴的なソールは人を選ぶ。
値段も結構するしね。
高い金払って、あんなデッコボッコなソールの履くのは勇気いるよ。
子供のころ、アシックスの次くらいによく履いてたブランドのはずなんだけど。
なぜかほとんど印象に残ってない。
俺にとっては「数あるスポーツスニーカーのひとつ」としか言いようがない。
最近、自分のファッションスタイルに丁度いいブランドだと思ってて。
合わせやすくて、ブランドの主張が強くないモデルがあって、かつカブりにくい。
最近だとクラブシーのセレクトショップ限定モデルが、個人的にドンピシャだった。
たまに広告で見るから知ってはいるけど、よく分からんブランド。
