A. 嵐が丘　B. 高慢と偏見　C. 動物農場　D. 二都物語　E. 蝿の王

F. 指輪物語：王の帰還

First off, we at the Wandering Wordsman have been instructed by Ray Bradbury’s lawyers to inform the audience that he is from Waukegan, Illinois, which has not been part of the British Empire since more than 120 years before Mr. Bradbury was born.

But on to the guesses.  B was a popular choice this week, with both Theoman and A Fan assuming it was Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.  The former identified it based on the inclusion of “and” in the name, and A Fan presumably recognized it based on his extensive knowledge of Austen and her oeuvre.  It is curious that neither of them went for Sense and Sensibility, also a well-known Austen work that follows the “_____ and _____” formula.  Curious and fortuitous, for B is none other than P&P.  Well spotted.

There was also considerable mention of Mr. Orwell’s 1984, which, as Theoman surmised, is not on this list.  People seem to have forgotten about the other Orwell book that they always make kids read in school: Animal Farm.  Well, I guess A Fan didn’t forget about it, he just misplaced it.  Napoleon and Boxer and all their communist buddies are hanging out at C, trapped between Mr. Darcy and . . . whoever is the male lead in A Tale of Two Cities–I never read it–at D.  A Fan’s guess of Animal Farm for E (provided, of course, that we assume he meant to write “E” instead of “F”) is slightly right in that the title does contain the name of an animal.  The symbolism in E, however, is much more Christian than Marxist, as it is William Golding’s Lord of the Flies (similar in that it also tells a story of living beings that really shouldn’t be in charge of anything having to take care of themselves).

Shirley’s devotion to  Trollop and A Fan’s to Greene are inspiring but, in this case, unhelpful.  And there were a couple of Shakespeare guesses as well, though none of his plays appeared either (hmm, might have to consider that for a future quiz).  The final remaining answer, F, is Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings: Return of the King.  This was a hard one, I admit, both because it’s not one that most people read in English class and because the Japanese title is not quite as literal a translation as with the others: Yubiwa monogatari is the “Tale of the Ring(s)” rather than the “Lord of the Rings.”

Oh, and A is Wuthering Heights.  What a terrible book.

And now this week we have the follow-up: American Lit.  To help you guys out, I will say that we have one work by Faulkner, one by Hawthorne, one by Hemingway, one by Melville, one by Steinbeck, and one by Twain.  If I were you, I would take Theoman’s advice and not look for titles featuring people’s names or numbers (though I will say that one of these is not a direct translation of the English title).

A. 怒りの葡萄　B. 王子と乞食　C. 誰がために鐘は鳴る　D. 白鯨

E. 響きと怒り　F. 緋文字

A. 刀自　B. 冬至　C. 杜氏　D. 湯治　E. 統治　F. 蕩児　G. 陶磁

This week’s guessing placed a lot of focus on the end, with both Shirley and Theoman drawn to the complexity of G.  Theoman was correct in his assumption that it was the most complicated (the choices are listed in order based on the number of strokes it takes to write them, going from least to greatest).  As for whether or not governance is complicated, I suppose it depends on who you ask.  If you asked me, I would probably say yes (or, if it’s not, then maybe it should be), but I would also add in an aside that G, at least, isn’t it.  Those interested in ruling should look two to the left at E, amongst the moderately complicated kanji compounds.

Shirley’s impression of G was not so much one of complexity as of disorder.  It looks pretty regular to me, but I have experience with these things, and also if I was looking at a handwritten rather than typed version  even I might have to think that it was time to put the taste-test cup down.  Because of this potential problem, perhaps, the character gurus chose to keep this word relatively simple so there would be less to screw up, and C is therefore our tipsy brewmaster.  According to my dictionary, the word comes from the name of the person who supposedly invented sake.

Shirley can take comfort, however, in the fact that her sentimental choice was, to use an industry term, “dead-on-balls accurate.”  B is the winter solstice, shortest and bleakest day of the year, which apparently isn’t even here yet.  Man, where’s old Toji the Sake Brewer when you need him?  Or, better still, a hot springs cure?  That one can be found at D, which, as you may have noted, shares its second character with E.  As with many kanji, this one has multiple potential meanings; it can refer to ruling or governing (as in E) or curing/healing (as in D).  What’s the connection?  Don’t ask me.

So what was G?  Well, appropriately enough, it’s the least complicated thing on the list: clay.  Go figure.

Oops, almost forgot to give A Fan his grades: A. Right B. Wrong C. Wrong D. Wrong E. Wrong F. Right G. Wrong.  Not bad for the shotgun method.

But let’s try for something a little closer to home this time around.  Our next puzzle will be about translated titles of famous works of English Literature.  And when I say famous, I mean famous.  We’re pretty much sticking to big names on this list, your Dickenses and your Orwells and your Austens, etc.  We are not, however, going to go too close to home; this first round is the Twelfth Grade Edition: Brit Lit.  I would encourage those who find one they are pretty sure of to branch out and also attempt one about which they are less certain.

A. 嵐が丘　B. 高慢と偏見　C. 動物農場　D. 二都物語　E. 蝿の王

F. 指輪物語：王の帰還

NOTE: Because of travel plans, next week’s edition of KYPC might not appear as promptly as usual.  Don’t worry, though.  It’ll get there.

A. 愛国者 B. 海賊 C. 巨人 D. 侵略者 E. 聖人 F. 族長 G. 荷造り人

Responses were somewhat sparser than usual this week.  It was almost as if some sort of major event was going on that required a considerable amount of time to be devoted to travel and other activities.  Oh well.  As they say, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade, and if life doesn’t give you very many lemons, make watery lemonade.

Dragon was back this week in her usual role of “First to answer, Last to still be making comments about last week’s puzzle.”  She quickly identified the symbol of the cross in A and assumed it must be the symbol of the saint, but only in that particular instance, because she also noticed the exact same character in D, and they couldn’t both be right . . . or could they?  No, they couldn’t, because neither one of them was right.  The cross-bearing character simply means “person,” so it’s no surprise that it shows up in multiple answers on this quiz, just as the last character in C, E, and G does (this, too, means person.  Why do they need two?  Well, why does English need two different ways to pluralize the word “person”?)  The New Orleans Saint is letter E, with characters meaning “holy person.”  The “holy,” naturally, is a kanji that consists of parts meaning ear, mouth, and king.  New Orleans is a nutty place sometimes.

Theoman may be shocked to discover that his persistence is actually paying off this week.  A is indeed the (New England) Patriot, or “loves-country person.”  Kudos on spotting a kanji you recognize and not being tripped up by the many different ways these things can be interpreted, as has happened so many times in the past.

Now, you could say that, because the Japanese word for Viking (and also for all-you-can-eat buffet-style cuisine) is baikingu and does not appear on this list, Shirley was technically wrong with her guess of C.  But we’re going to go out of our way to convince ourselves that she was actually secretly correct.  While baikingu does not make an appearance, two other words with strongly related meanings do: “pirate” (or, in the football sense, Buccaneer) at B and “Raider” at D.  By picking C, directly in between, Shirley was in fact attempting to indicate a blending of these two meanings.  In addition, as we all know, Scandinavian people tend to be tall, which is why she selected the word that means Giant.

F, by the way, is the Chiefs, hailing from one of America’s most lamentable sports towns, Kansas City, and G, appropriately enough, is the Green Bay Packers.  Perhaps the inclusion of both the Packers and the Vikings on this quiz proved to be too much for A Fan to bear, hence his decision to abstain.

But that’s enough sports for a while.  It’s time to bring back the ever-popular (at least with me) KYPC Homophone Challenge!  This week’s words are all pronounced touji, but their meanings cover the following range: chief brewer at a sake brewery; clay; hot-spring cure; lady, matron, mistress; libertine; rule, reign, governing; and winter solstice.  Theoman, fresh off his recent victory, can see how much he rules at this game, while the rest of you may be reminded of the upcoming shortest day of the year.  Or that you need to make a pot for Christmas.  Whatever works for you.

A. 刀自　B. 冬至　C. 杜氏　D. 湯治　E. 統治　F. 蕩児　G. 陶磁

A. 海豚　B. 雄羊　C. 熊　D. 獅子　E. 猩猩紅冠鳥　F. 鷲　G. 渡烏

Before we get started, I feel it’s only fair to point out that these are not the words the Japanese actually use to refer to American football teams; they just call them by versions of their English names pronounced Japanese-ily: the shikago beaazu, the barutimoa reibunzu, etc.  But those aren’t nearly as fun.

Theoman once again attempted to put his knowledge of Japanese to use, and once again he was about two-thirds correct.  The second character in D does in fact mean “child,” and the word for colt does contain that character.  But that’s not what we have here.  D, in fact, has nothing to do with children or youth (that second character appears in many compounds unrelated to the meaning “child”).  Theoman unfortunately decided to cast his lot with the hapless Detroit Lions, and, unsurprisingly, they let him down.

It may appear at first glance that A Fan did not make a guess at all, but closer inspection reveals that this is not in fact the case.  His claim that the Bears “rule” was obviously a subtle reference to the fact that he noticed that the second character in B looks like it may be a modified form of the kanji that means “king.”  It actually means “sheep,” however, which means that B is the St. Louis Rams (it’s interesting that the incorrect guesses seem to mostly fall on teams that aren’t very good).  The real Monsters of the Midway are located at C, and that “bear” of a kanji is about as good a one for a team name as I’ve seen; the top four parts form a character meaning “talent, ability” and the four dashes on the bottom are a representation of “fire,” which you need to keep from freezing to death playing games next to Lake Michigan in December.  Also, I can only assume that his reference to the Vikings “sucking” was intended to indicate that he thought they were character F, which sucks to write because there’s a lot to fit in such a small space, but this was another classic Favresque errant throw: F is the Philadelphia Eagles.

As usual, Dragon and Shirley had the same guess, but this time they claimed it meant different things.  Dragon, sensing complexity in the 5-character compound, saw the Bengal Tiger, while Shirley, empathizing with the toughness involved in writing such a word, saw the gritty, determined Bear.  Neither guess was correct, for the last character, the one that appears as a part of F and in a slightly modified form in G, means “bird.”  E is the Arizona Cardinal (another clunker), with the last three characters indicating a “red-crowned bird,” and the repeated first character meaning, for no reason I can figure out, “orangutan.”

Our two wide outs basically got ignored this week as guessers focused on stopping the run game up the middle.  A is the Miami Dolphins (or, as the characters would indicate, the “sea pigs”).  And the last choice, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting, and shall be guessed–nevermore!

Now it’s time for part two, covering the less animalistic half of the NFL.  Your options this time are the Packers, Vikings, 49ers, Buccaneers, Saints, Cowboys, Giants, Redskins, Steelers, Browns, Raiders, Chargers (arguably), Chiefs, Titans, Texans, Patriots, Jets, and Bills.  And, because that’s a lot of choices, I’ll go ahead and say that the following are not included for the sake of political correctness or because they’re just weird: Redskins, Browns, Chargers (because I don’t know if the name refers to war horses or just people who charge), Texans, and Bills.  Identify whatever you want, but I will say that, unless we get some unexpected participants, anyone looking for their hometown team is probably out of luck.

A. 愛国者 B. 海賊 C. 巨人 D. 侵略者 E. 聖人 F. 族長 G. 荷造り人

(no post today.  The Wordsman is taking a holiday.)

Just kidding!  Sure would have been ironic, though, wouldn’t it?  (NOTE: please don’t overload the comments with debate on the definition of “ironic.”  We’ll be here all night.)

A. 敬老の日　B. 建国記念の日　C. 憲法記念日　D. 成人の日

E. 体育の日　F. 天皇誕生日

This week Theoman, who had the hardest task ahead of him, bravely set first foot into the fray.  He correctly identified the two characters forming the compound kinen, which means memorial or remembrance.  This narrowed his intimidating field down to two choices, and, as generally happens in KYPC, he picked the wrong one.  Instead of finding his way to C, when everyone celebrates the Constitution (which the Japanese love for some reason even though the Americans wrote it for them), he ended up at B, the ever-controversial National Foundation Day.  Depending on whom you talk to, it commemorates the day when the fictional Emperor Jimmu–who was a symbol of State Shinto, which, er, was rather a problem around the middle of the 20th century–first came to the throne in 660 BC.  But some people like controversy, so I guess I can’t argue with his choice.

At the other end of the controversy spectrum we have E, Health and Sports Day, identified by Scott (we’re going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume his finger slipped when he typed “D,” because we’re pretty sure he knows better).  Ping-pong is an excellent sport because you don’t need a lot of fancy practice or expertise to play it (you just need these things to play it well).  This means that E is not Coming of Age Day, as Shirley thought; you don’t have to be a certain age to play sports.  Nor is it A, the Respect for the Aged Day that so alarmed her.  And the only answer up there that has to do with a birthday is F, the Emperor’s Birthday.  Kind of like Presidents’ Day in the U.S., I guess, except that it changes every time there’s a new emperor.  Also, there probably aren’t as many used car sales.

It seems I can’t write a paragraph this week without mentioning controversy.  When A Fan identified D as Coming of Age Day, he aroused a certain amount of debate regarding the difference between “cheating” and “research.”  While the Wordsman chooses to withhold definitive judgment on the subject, I will say that if you’re going to make the argument that you did research, you’d better go the whole ten yards.  For example, at what age to the Japanese come of age? (It’s not 18 or 21).  When is Coming of Age Day?  What can you do once you’ve come of age?  Come back with that, and then we’ll talk about research.

But anyway, on to a topic which everyone can always agree on: football.  Now that we find ourselves in the midst of the football season, I felt like doing a puzzle on NFL teams.  Since there are 32 teams we’ll split it up into two puzzles, with this one being about teams that are named after animals.  For those of you not up on your football, the possibilities are as follows: Bears, Lions, Rams, Seahawks, Cardinals, Panthers, Falcons, Eagles, Ravens, Bengals, Broncos, Chargers (arguably), Colts, Jaguars, and Dolphins.  A Fan, I think you already know what to look for.  Everyone else is on their own.  And if you want to do any “research,” be prepared to turn in an essay.

A. 海豚　B. 雄羊　C. 熊　D. 獅子　E. 猩猩紅冠鳥　F. 鷲　G. 渡烏

A. 川崎　B. 東芝　C. 日産　D. 任天堂　E. 日立　F. 本田　G. 三菱

Before we dive into this, it was brought to my attention that I did not explain all the choices in the puzzle from two weeks ago.  I thought that I had covered them over the course of the entry, but apparently one or two got left out.  So, the answers to the historical period puzzle were: A. Edo B. Kamakura C. Jomon D. Nara E. Heian F. Muromachi.

Now let’s get to work.  Our first guess, as always, came from Dragon, who identified E as Honda.  She felt that the character on the left represented a window, and cars have windows, and Honda makes cars, ergo, E is Honda.  It was a good plan, except that she made the fatal mistake of assuming that the kanji for “window” looks anything at all like a window.  But even if that were not the case, could it not also have been Toshiba?  They make computers with Windows.  Get it?  Get it?  Anyway, E is Hitachi, a company that does not make cars but does make something even cooler: bullet trains (and yes, they do have windows).

Next up was Theoman, who immediately spotted B as Toshiba.  We can’t even be mad at him, though, for we know that his long struggles as the owner of a Toshiba-made laptop must have given him infinite familiarity with the company, a familiarity that I am certain bred a fair amount of contempt.  “Know thine enemy,” said Sun Tzu, or one of those guys; now Theoman knows their name.  A Fan, on the other hand, owns a Honda (and a Toshiba computer), so it would seem like he was ideally positioned to sweep this puzzle.  But he made the curious choice of D, implying that his Honda had a wide enough front seat to fit two humans and a large dog.  While we can give him minor points because the character in the middle is somewhat similar to the one for dog, his theory falls short.  The characters actually represent him and his wife playing a game on the Nintendo Wii, with the dog lying between them in the most inconvenient position possible to prove how much he loves them.  D is Nintendo.

Our final contestant was Shirley, who went for G.  She had the right idea but the wrong corporation.  There were in fact three car companies on the list: C, Nissan, which nobody was interested in; G, Mitsubishi, which might be better for cruising down a two-lane highway than your stereotypical Honda; and F, the elusive Honda itself, with that “window” on the right side.  As we all know, windows are the defining feature of an automobile.  Just ask A Fan’s dog.

This week’s You Forgot About Poland Award goes to A, Kawasaki.  What have they ever done for us?

But after all that work, you must be exhausted.  Isn’t it time for a break?  Luckily for you, the upcoming puzzle is about holidays.  You get to learn all about the days that the Japanese get to take off but we don’t.  Theoman’s task will be to locate Constitution Memorial Day, while the rest of you can concentrate on Coming of Age Day.

A. 敬老の日　B. 建国記念の日　C. 憲法記念日　D. 成人の日

E. 体育の日　F. 天皇誕生日

A. 江戸　B. 鎌倉　C. 縄文　D. 奈良　E. 平安　F. 室町

It seems I need to make a couple things clear here.  1. This is not an exhaustive list of Japanese historical periods.  These are just most of the interesting ones.  Well, Jomon’s probably not that exciting unless you’re really into pottery shards, but the rest all have their fun stuff.  I would not be surprised if, sometime down the road, a second challenge involving some of the other eras surfaces in this vicinity.  2. Periods of Japanese history are named for the center of government in most instances.  This statement is true of 5 of the 6 on this list.  Jomon refers to the signature rope-like pattern found on pottery from that era, because there probably wasn’t much of a government 40,000 years ago.

Finally, finally I have managed to stump Theoman.  He was correct on two counts: one, that “kama” means “scythe,” and two, that the “kama” in Kamakura is in fact the same “kama” that means scythe.  And then he tripped at the finish line, misread the first character in E, and ended up in the Heian period.  There are worse places to end up, I suppose.  What’s that, you say?  You’ve never heard of a place in Japan called Heian?  No surprise, I guess.  It was only the capital for, oh, over a thousand years.  Nowadays most of us call it Kyoto.

We also got to encounter a typical example of A-Fan-style logic, which bears the Wordsman Seal of Approval.  There may have been some trains in Japan by the very end of the Edo period, though they wouldn’t have really gotten going until the era that followed it . . . but we’ll talk about that later.  If that really is the Boston T, then presumably the left part of the right character is a window, through which the person represented by the character on the left is attempting to hand a sandwich.  Or maybe it’s just the Muromachi period, named for a district in Kyoto where the shoguns liked to hang out.

Shirley decided to engage in a bit of prognostication, predicting a dramatic shift in the function of the Japanese government following World War Eleven.  We’ll give her bonus points for that, if it comes true, but she too ended up drawn to Heian, the heart of classical Japanese literature, as so many scholars have been before her.  And we’re sure that the good people of Nara appreciate being described as, “Um, I don’t know.”  But the real answer was her other choice, picked up on successfully by her one-time co-conspirator Dragon.  Edo is A.  Nowadays most people call it Tokyo.  Not me, though.  And the Hagia Sophia is located in Constantinople.

Now it’s time to get back to work, so here is a list of places where you could work, if you were in Japan.  Feel free to identify as many as you wish (“This is the twenty-first century.  Many people hold down several jobs.”), but if you’re looking for guidance, try to pick out Honda.  Most of you should be familiar with that.  Except you, Theoman.  That’s right, I’m talking to you.  You get to look for Toshiba.

A. 川崎　B. 東芝　C. 日産　D. 任天堂　E. 日立　F. 本田　G. 三菱

A. 大阪　B. 京都　C. 神戸　D. 東京　E. 名古屋　F. 福岡

First off, to respond to Dragon’s persistent rice fixation: yes, the concept of sushi refers more specifically to the preparation of the rice.  You can have sushi without the raw fish.  People over here just tend to fixate on the raw fish because, well, it’s raw fish.  Also, delicious.

But now we have bigger fish to, um, not fry.  With typical quickness, Dragon leapt right out at B, identifying it as . . . well, we’re not sure.  The challenge for this week, as you may recall, was to identify either Tokyo or Kyoto, to which Dragon responded, “It’s B.”  Presumably if a waiter in a sushi restaurant were to ask her if she preferred tuna or salmon, she would respond “Yes.”  Lacking further clarification, we at the Wandering Wordsman are forced to assume that she believed that the characters in B represent both Tokyo and Kyoto.

And she is right . . . to a certain extent.  As Shirley discovered accidentally, B is in fact Kyoto (we would accuse her of cheating, but then again she was able to look at a map of Shikoku without stumbling on the answer, so I guess we can’t fault her too much).  The two kanji in Kyoto can both mean “capital city” on their own, which certainly applies to Tokyo as well.  However, together they function only as a proper noun.  Tokyo is hiding out at D, the land of windy days blowing away people’s hats, as A Fan astutely noted.  The person on the right, a tourist unaware of the city’s blusteriness, watches in stunned horror as his precious beret flies upward.  The guy on the left is a Tokyoite, born and raised, and he has taken the common precaution of nailing his hat to his head to prevent catastrophe.  Or, if you want to be technical, it just means “Eastern Capital.”

Theoman, of course, claims to have known all of this already, and also that A is Osaka, the city of the “large slope.”  But we can forgive him for all of his illicit knowledge, because he chose a strategy much more appropriate to KYPC in making his own guess; he picked F because, “the second character in C looks funny to me.”  Fukuoka, as we all know, is an extremely serious place, whose people would not dare associate with a silly character the likes of which is to be found in C.  Or perhaps he did it because F is the first letter in Fukuoka, and he thought that it was not impossible for someone to refer to the city by the first letter of its name (when written with the English alphabet).  Either way, he is correct.  Fukuoka is indeed F City, the “hill of good fortune.”  That wacky place between Kyoto and Tokyo is the home of really expensive beef, Kobe.  The character that tickled Theoman so thoroughly represents one of the funniest objects in the history of the human experience: a door.  I’m barely able to stay upright myself, just thinking about it.  The other kanji in Kobe refers to gods or spirits.

Oh yeah, and E is Nagoya.  Nobody likes Nagoya.

Now it’s time to shift away from geography to history.  Japanese history is divided into periods that are almost always named for where the seat of government was at the time (so I guess it’s still kind of geography after all).  Here we have six of the major eras: the Jomon period (approx. 14,000-300 BC), the Nara period (710-794 AD), the Heian period (794-1185), the Kamakura period (approx. 1185-1333), the Muromachi period (approx. 1336-1573), and the Edo period (approx. 1603-1868).  And I’m not going to write “period” every time because that’s just silly.  Splitting up the tasks seemed to work well last week, so we’ll try it again.  Theoman can try to find Kamakura, when Japan’s first shogunate rose to power.  Everyone else can work their way back to Edo, the era of Japan’s last shogunate.

A. 江戸　B. 鎌倉　C. 縄文　D. 奈良　E. 平安　F. 室町

A. 銀杏　B. 酒　C. 寿司　D. 照り焼き　E. 豆腐　F. 松茸　G. 山葵

Hopefully all this talk about food has made you hungry.  Hungry for answers, that is (answers are, sadly, all I have to provide).  I’m not sure where Dragon heard that “sushi” means “rice”–like many traditional Japanese words, there’s some argument about the exact etymology, though the theory I’ve heard most commonly is that it comes from an adjective meaning “it’s sour,” referring to the vinegar used to make it.  But this has nothing to do with why she was wrong when she said that B meant sushi.  As a matter of fact, she picked the closest thing to vinegar that appears on this list: sake, which is pretty important too, I suppose, depending on who you talk to.  The real sushi is hiding out at C, which is only one of several ways to write it, some of which are one character: 鮓 and 鮨.

Theoman–for whom my suggested responses were not crazy enough, apparently–leapt upon D, the only answer to contain non-kanji characters.  KYPC has clearly taught him to seek out whatever hints he thinks he can find, and, for once, these hints did not lead him astray.  D is indeed teriyaki.  I was also glad to see that everyone agrees with me that tofu and mushrooms are gross, because none of you went for E or F, which represent the bean-curd and the fungus, respectively.

Shirley, it seems, had classic comedy on the brain.  Not only did she want to make sure that everyone remembered Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on First?” routine, she was also clearly thinking about the movie Some Like it Hot, because instead of ginkgo she accidentally grabbed some wasabi.  In this case the stuff at the top of the second character might not represent the faulty memory burdening the small person but rather the clouds of steam shooting out of his ears as he takes a bite of the green stuff.  And yes, I understand that wasabi is not really “hot” or “spicy” in the same way as we usually think of it, but as long you don’t take some of the ginkgo over there at A, you probably won’t remember what I said here anyway.

It’s been a few weeks since we had a geography-themed puzzle, and I know that Dragon loves geography, so I think it’s about time we had another.  This time let’s try to identify some Japanese cities.  And to avoid any wild cards, I’ll tell you what to look for.  Theoman, you get to try to pick out Fukuoka.  Everyone else can hunt down either Tokyo or Kyoto.  They’re more famous, so they should be easier to recognize, right?  Right?

A. 大阪　B. 京都　C. 神戸　D. 東京　E. 名古屋　F. 福岡

A. 指名打者　B. 代走　C. 中堅手　D. 投手　E. 捕手　F. 遊撃手

I like to think that I am teaching something in these weekly challenges.  Is it actual knowledge of Japanese?  No, not really.  Guessing techniques?  Perhaps.  Psychology?  Somewhat.  But the more I think about it, the more I come to believe that the primary lesson imparted by KYPC is that life is cruel and unfair.  This week we had Shirley looking for patterns, Dragon performing in-depth analysis of one character, and Theoman attempting to use actual knowledge.  And then in came A Fan, who hasn’t participated as much over the past few weeks and who seems to guess almost entirely at random.  Now I ask you, to see if you’ve learned anything at all: which of these four do you think correctly identified not only the shortstop but also the pitcher and the catcher?  A Fan, naturally.  Who ever said life was fair?

My favorite guess from this week was Shirley’s identification of A as the pitcher because she could see that he had all four pitches.  I couldn’t help but wonder which pitch was which.  The first, I feel, has to be the knuckleball, both because it looks a little funky and because, on its own, it means “finger.”  Next comes the curve, with that gentle slope as it passes over the plate.  The third is obviously the fastball shooting straight down the pipe, powerful and unsubtle.  Shirley seemed to feel that the last one might be the spitball, but I prefer to give the pitcher the benefit of the doubt and call it the slider- watch as it cuts sharply past the outline of the crouching catcher.  Now, in a perfect world, this combination of four characters would actually mean “pitcher,” but it doesn’t work that way.  However, they do indicate a position that is closely associated with the pitcher.  Whether you think it’s an abomination or the only sane way to play, you have to admit that if it wasn’t for the pitcher, there would be no designated hitter.

Dragon and Theoman both settled on C as the shortstop, Dragon because she likes puns and Theoman because he thought he had cracked the code.  The first character does in fact mean middle, though if he had remembered that a synonym for middle is “center,” he might have had a better chance at spotting the center fielder.  D and E make up your battery (the “throwing player” and the “catching player.”)  B is a pinch runner–see that little bit of something being pinched up at the top?–which may not technically be a “position,” but I don’t care.  F is the shortstop, with the characters indicating a sort of “raider,” I guess because he goes around and snatches up baseballs.

Whew!  All that talk about baseball made me hungry.  I think it’s time for the second, specially food-themed edition of the “Japanese words used in English” puzzle.  I’ll leave the choice of target up to you this time.  If you like vegetables and gross stuff like that, hunt for tofu or matsutake.  If you want to give this challenge a little extra kick, grab some wasabi.  If puzzles like this make you worry that your memory is failing you, you might want to look for some ginkgo.  I personally would go for the sushi, but it’s your choice.

A. 銀杏　B. 酒　C. 寿司　D. 照り焼き　E. 豆腐　F. 松茸　G. 山葵