A. 嗅覚　B. 視覚　C. 触覚　D. 第六感　E. 聴覚　F. 平衡覚　G. 味覚

We at the Wandering Wordsman would like to say how much we appreciate Dragon’s enthusiasm.  Every week, it seems, she leaps directly into the fray, fighting to get her guess out there before anyone else.  They say that you can get something done fast or you can get it done right; Dragon, like any good American, chooses fast.  It would be nice if she were also right, but hey, that’s really just icing on the cake at that point.

This week’s first strike was at letter A, supposedly a man with a box in his hand reaching out to touch it in order to determine its identity.  But wait a second.  We already know what the box is: it’s a box.  What good is touching it going to do us at that point?  As physics has famously taught us, we can even blow up the box and not know for sure what’s inside.  Looks like we’re going to have to rely on one of our other senses here.  If the contents of the box are an extremely frightened cat, then hearing would probably be our best bet, but let’s assume it’s food.  Everyone likes food, and really, why would you put a cat in a box in the first place?  For determining the identity of the food, we are going to want to use our sense of smell, and that is exactly what A is.  Technically the square on the left is not a box but a mouth, because, you know, people . . . smell . . . with their mouths.

We were also pleased to see that a minor debate sprung up over the number of senses.  Dragon believes there are only five, and that anything else is mere Wordsman trickery.  Shirley, on the other hand, seemed to be more interested in the non-traditional senses than in the puzzle itself, and we can hardly blame her for that.  What these two participants had in common was their interest in choice D,  which Shirley identified as the juxtaposition of the humor and absurdity inherent in life, while Dragon chose to see a man desperately trying to stay above water as he is being pulled around by a motorboat.  Though they came at it from different angles, when you get down to the heart of it, did they not both see the sense of balance in D?  Wouldn’t it be great if that was what D actually meant?  It sure would, but things don’t seem to work that way on KYPC.  The sense of balance is F, while D is, quite literally, the “sixth sense” that Dragon chose to regard with such scorn (the Japanese for “spidey sense” is supaida sensu).

And now time to clean up and deal with all the other boring senses.  Theoman, in his typical manner, successfully located the sense of touch at C.  Your sense of vision is there at letter B, hearing at E, and taste comes in last at letter G (notice the same mouth that appeared in letter A.  Seems to make a little more sense here).

As some of you might know, the Major League Baseball playoffs start this week, so it’s time to have another baseball-themed challenge.  Last time we had players, and this time we have positions.  Make like a good double-play ground ball and find your way to the shortstop.

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

A. 沖縄　B. 九州　C. 四国　D. 北海道　E. 本州

Clearly this past week’s challenge was much too simple, barely worthy of the name “challenge” at all.  Not only did two of the three guessers come up with the correct answer, but one of them swept the board, an unprecedented KYPC feat as far as I can remember.  Whether by using pronunciation or thinking inside the box, Dragon and Theoman both found their way to C quite easily.  Let’s just hope that they feel considerable shame at having solved the puzzle without bothering to learn anything at all about temples, unlike Shirley.  While she failed to come up with the correct answer, she has probably managed to win the goodwill of the people of Kyushu by saying that B, their island, is so pretty.  And in the end, isn’t that what really counts?  Though as I look back, I notice that she also called Shikoku unattractive, so I guess she’s par for the course.

In case anyone did not tune in to Theoman’s mighty streak, I will point out that A is Okinawa (the “open sea rope,” which means we’re talking about kanji used for sound, not meaning, here), B is Kyushu (the “nine states”), C is Shikoku, (the “four provinces”), D is Hokkaido (the “northern sea road,” though despite the presence of the character for north, I think this name is mainly an attempt to imitate the indigenous people’s name for the island), and E is Honshu (the “origin state”).

Anyway, it’s obvious that you people are too smart for my own good.  It’s time to beat some sense out of you with a really challenging challenge.  Hmm . . . sense . . . I’ve got it!  Another geography puzzle, just for Dragon!  No, wait!  We’ll have a puzzle about senses.  Where would we be without senses?  Completely unable to interact with the world around us, for one thing.  We would also be very bored.  Thus I present a cure for boredom: try to figure out which sense is which.  Feel free to use any of your own senses to help you come up with the answer, though, for the sake of your monitor, I have to recommend against employing your sense of taste.  Because of the recent disappointingly stellar performance, I’ll have you try to pick out the sense of touch, the broadest and most poorly defined of the five senses.  Other than that it should be easy, because there are only five senses . . . or are there?

A. 嗅覚　B. 視覚　C. 触覚　D. 第六感　E. 聴覚　F. 平衡覚　G. 味覚

A. 折り紙　B. 将軍　C. 大君　D. 津波　E. 俳句　F. 盆栽　G. 帝

We at the Wandering Wordsman would like to welcome back Shirley.  Let it never be said that we do not appreciate her attitude (valor is indeed the better part of discretion, at least in this game).  We also would have liked to celebrate her triumphant return, but, unfortunately, it seems like she has a little rust to knock off after her long vacation.  Her numerous guesses, while highly entertaining, were entirely wrong.  But that’s okay.  Experts in second-language acquisition have found that sometimes the best thing your students can do is to make mistakes.

This week provided an interesting variety of viewpoints on character A.  Shirley saw it and reeled in terror.  Dragon, on the other hand, perceived it as simple math.  Theoman thought it looked like folded paper, which is exactly what it is: origami.  Also interesting to note is a fact that I think most of you did not realize, which is that the second character is not a kanji.  The ri in origami is a hiragana character, and it means only that: the sound ri.  Knowing your picture characters is key, but it takes more than that to be able to read Japanese.

B was the only completely ignored item on the list this time, and I don’t think it was particularly wise of you to snub the shogun like that.  On the other hand, the tycoon (or taikun) received plenty of attention.  This was a word used to describe the most powerful man in Japan before they borrowed the Chinese idea of calling him an Emperor, though I believe most people think the alternate pronunciation of ookimi was more commonly used.  And I’m sure he would have appreciated being compared to poetry, as Shirley did.

D is our tsunami, and if you want a way to remember that, you can say that the two characters are images of water (left side) falling against buildings (right side).  Shirley was closest in her attempted identification of E, but she mixed her visual arts up with her written ones: it is not the simple grace of folded paper but the simple grace of the three-line haiku.  I agree that F has a lot going on, and it does almost call to mind the topsy-turvydom of an operetta at the Savoy, but it is, in fact, bonsai (all those little branches needing to be trimmed, I suppose).  Which leaves us with, last but not least, G as the mikado.  He was a little upset at first that no one guessed him, and also that someone thought he looked like a miniature tree, but we talked it over and decided to let the punishment fit the crime: those people who failed to figure out the correct answer will be forced to continue participating in the game week after week after week.

This week’s punishment will be geography, specifically, islands of Japan.  For those of you not familiar with the layout of Japan, it consists of way too many islands to list them all here, so we’re only going to be working with five of the better known ones: Honshu, the big one; Hokkaido, the one up north; Kyushu, the one down south; Shikoku, the one that’s all tucked away down there; and Okinawa, the one that’s far away from all the rest.  Since I believe all of my readers have met at least one person from Shikoku, I’ll have you try to find that one.  (Quick reminder to those with insider information: let other people have a chance to guess before you jump in).

A. 沖縄　B. 九州　C. 四国　D. 北海道　E. 本州

A. 角行　B. 香車　C. 銀将　D. 桂馬　E. 飛車　F. 歩兵

Anyone who knows anything about chess knows that a good opening is crucial to eventual victory.  I’ve never played shogi (and, for that matter, I’ve never played chess effectively), but I assume the same principle applies.  Our opening this week was provided by Dragon, who came out guessing D.  This is known as the “Disregard What the Wordsman Says Opening,” because she chose the one with crosses, saying that it must represent the bishop because he is a holy man.  In fact, her move could be considered a rare form known as the Double DWWS Opening, because not only did she ignore the fact that I said the typical English names of the Japanese pieces are related to how they move rather than what they are called, she also apparently forgot that the cross means “earth” and has no religious significance (remember?)  In any case, it was a bold move, and while I have been told that fortune favors the bold, it did not favor Dragon.  D is the knight, though its name actually means “cassia horse.”

While this challenge may have seemed impossible when I told you that the actual Japanese names for these pieces generally have nothing to do with their English ones, there is, in fact, one piece whose name is very similar to that of its English equivalent and one piece whose name literally describes its movement.  And the bishop is one of these two.  However, there are also two pieces that have no real equivalent in chess, so let’s get those out of the way.  B, the “incense chariot,” is known in English as the lance.  It is essentially a rook that can only move forward.  C, the “silver general,” is called just that in English.  It moves one space at a time in any of the eight directions except left, right, and backward.  F, by the way, is the “foot soldier,” and therefore the pawn, which you could probably guess pretty easily if you were looking at an actual shogi board, as there are a whole bunch of them out in the front row.

And now we arrive at the endgame.  We are down to two.  One is the bishop, and one not.  It would have been much more appropriately dramatic if our two remaining contestants had picked different answers, but, as so often happens in these challenges, they used completely unrelated strategies to come up with the same result.  Theoman may have been pleased to see that a portion of his hypothesis was confirmed in the description of B, but, if he has been paying attention, he may also have noticed that there is now only one character remaining with the wheel/chariot kanji, and the rook has yet to be introduced.  And A Fan made the all-too-common mistake of expecting kanji to be consistent.  Their choice, E, is the rook, going by its assumed shogi name of “flying chariot.”  Our friend the bishop was right in front all along, as letter A, the “angle goer.”

Okay, that one was hard.  I admit it.  So I’ll cut you guys some slack.  Up to this point, we’ve been working with words that could be considered strictly Japanese (at least as far as you can make such a claim about any language in today’s world).  But there is a nice long list of terms that have worked their way across the Pacific Ocean and now are used with relative ease in English.  Let’s take a look at a few of those.  Here we have three forms of art (bonsai, haiku, and origami), three “titles” (mikado, shogun, and tycoon), and one force of nature (tsunami).  Pick out what you want to identify, though if you’re one of those people who is distressed when given too much freedom, I’ll suggest that you try to find the haiku.

A. 折り紙　B. 将軍　C. 大君　D. 津波　E. 俳句　F. 盆栽　G. 帝

A. 海王星　B. 火星　C. 金星　D. 地球　E. 冥王星　F. 木星

There’s an awful lot of mystery this week, most of it orbiting E.  Theoman says it’s Pluto, but he won’t say why.  Dragon thinks it’s Pluto, but she doesn’t know why.  She cites the box at the center of the first character as representing the former planet, which is an intriguing theory, as the very same box appears at the top of the third character.  Are there, in fact, two Plutos?  Perhaps this is a subtle reference to the fact that Pluto’s moon Charon is much larger relative to its planet than a typical satellite, a fact cited by some astronomers who argue that Pluto and Charon should both be considered dwarf planets rather than the latter being the former’s moon.  Whether this reference is made merely by Dragon or by the Ancient Chinese remains to be seen (though the fact that Charon was discovered in 1978 AD makes the second possibility somewhat less likely).

And let’s not forget A Fan, who believes that the last character in A, B, C, E, and F indicates a real planet, and that D therefore must be Pluto, the dwarf planet.  An interesting hypothesis, especially considering that D is his (presumed) home planet of Earth.  Someone must not have a lot of planetary patriotism.

The eight (formerly nine) planets represent a combination of naming systems.  Excluding Earth (whose name just means “ball of earth”), the first five planets correspond to the five classical elements.  If any of these characters looked familiar, it’s because they’re also the ones used to name most of the days of the week.  Mercury (not on the list) is the water planet, Venus (C) is the metal planet, Mars (B) is the fire planet, Jupiter (F), is the wood planet, and Saturn (not on the list) is the dirt planet.  And if you think that Saturn got the short end of that unnatural, five-pronged stick, I guess that’s something we’ll have to worry about when they invade us in a century or two.

The remaining planets, however, have names that correspond to their English ones.  Neptune, for example, was named for the Roman god of the oceans, so its Japanese name (A) is the “sea king planet.”  And now, as you have presumably noticed, E is the only choice left, so it must be correct.  Tada!  But, if you want to believe that language is based on something more than simple process of elimination, you could see that it shares the same second character as A, and that it therefore represents the lord of the underworld, Pluto.  Personally, I would have lobbied for “cartoon dog planet,” but I guess now that it’s no longer a planet anyway, the point is moot.

Also of interest is the fact that the final character, on its own, means star.  This presumably helps explain why the other planets, which appear much like stars to the naked eye, were named differently from Earth, which even ancient peoples could pretty easily tell was made of, well, earth.

I’m having a little trouble thinking of a clever transition here, so I’m just going to blurt out a word and you’re going to follow: shogi!  Shogi is a game sometimes known as “Japanese chess” because it uses a checkered board, a set of pieces that move in different ways, and it ends when someone pins down the king.  The pieces are commonly referred to in English by names that reflect their similarity to chess pieces, though these often have nothing to do with the meanings of their Japanese names.  But let’s give it the old college try anyway, shall we?  See if you can pick out the bishop.

A. 角行　B. 香車　C. 銀将　D. 桂馬　E. 飛車　F. 歩兵

A. 会葬　B. 改装　C. 回想　D. 開創　E. 階層　F. 海藻

Hmm . . . this past week’s challenge featured a decrease in the number of respondents and an increase in the number of correct answers.  I suppose that says something about my teaching skills . . . or at least it would, if I were trying to teach.

It does certainly help when one of the contestants decides to take a blind, sweeping stab at everything (the Wandering Wordsman staff would like to remind Theoman that we encourage being lost.  It’s often more fun that way).  In remarkable A Fan-like fashion, he chose to ignore the appearance of the characters and guess randomly.  And he scored . . . not too badly, considering.  Two for six is probably better than the KYPC average, though I can’t say I’ve been keeping close track.  For his sake, I will repeat his correct guesses, because his was a stunning double-blind guess, where even the guesser most likely did not know exactly what he was saying.  His right answers came at the beginning (attendance at a funeral) and the end (seaweed).  Dragon inserted herself in the middle, and while she did not come up with as many right answers, she had a significantly better average.  C is reminiscence, but since I feel the need to criticize somehow, I will say that the character representing the memories that are the subject of reminiscence is the second rather than the first.

As for the rest, B is remodeling, D is grand opening, and E is class or level.  I hope you all repeated kaisou over and over to yourselves as you were coming up with your guesses.  It may not have helped, but it probably did look funny if anyone was watching you.

And now it’s time to move on, and on, and on.  We’re going way out for this next challenge, all the way to outer space.  The following list contains six of the planets in our solar system.  Well, five planets and one former planet, really.  You know the one I’m talking about.  That’s right, it’s Ceres!  Just kidding.  I want you to pick out everyone’s favorite recently demoted dwarf planet.  Feel free to engage in rampant speculation about what the last character does or does not mean.

A. 海王星　B. 火星　C. 金星　D. 地球　E. 冥王星　F. 木星

A. 酸素　B. 水素　C. 炭素　D. 窒素　E. 弗素　F. 硼素

We had a couple contestants jump out quickly this week.  Dragon spotted a familiar character and immediately latched onto it, because really, what’s more familiar than oxygen?  She was promptly backed up by Theoman, who hinted that he was making use of his mysterious insider knowledge.  Surely it seemed that the puzzle was over before it even started!  Or was it?  Let’s take a look.

Dragon presumably recognized the first character in B from way back in the second edition of KYPC, the days of the week challenge.  She may or may not have remembered that it was the character for Wednesday (though why should she?  No one like Wednesday.  It’s essentially a second Monday).  What we can be sure of, however, is that Theoman identified its true meaning: water.  “Aha!” he thought to himself.  “Water is H₂O.  The O stands for oxygen, and I’m pretty sure that H business is just filler, so this must mean oxygen!”

A well thought out, scientific approach, to be sure.  Yes, water, or as the Ancient Greeks called it, hydor, from which we get the prefix “hydro-” that we use in so many water-related words: hydroelectric, hydrate, and there’s one more I’m trying to remember . . . ah yes.  Hydrogen.  B is not the O; it’s the H.  Once again another good idea has not panned out for the readers, which just proves that we should always expect kanji to be cruel rather than kind.

The characters used to represent the chemical elements display a mix of those chosen for their meaning and those chosen for their sound.  C, carbon (see what I did there?), is an example of the former, with the first character meaning “coal.”  A Fan’s guess of E, on the other hand, is the latter, but unfortunately for him it does not sound anything like oxygen.  E is fusso, fluorine, with the first character meaning–you’re gonna love this–dollar.  Get it?  Because it’s a dollar sign?  It sounds silly, but that’s what my dictionary tells me.  And still others are unclear, such as D.  It means nitrogen, but it doesn’t sound like it (chisso), nor is the first character’s meaning obviously related: to plug up or obstruct.  Maybe if I knew more about chemistry that would make sense.

But let us all tip our caps to Shirley as she departs with head unbowed, for she has gone out on top.  Her answer of A was absolutely correct.  It is oxygen, sanso, the “acid element” (for, as I’m sure we are all aware, the name comes from the Greek oxys, referring to the sharp taste of acids).

Oh, and it appears that I have forgotten about boron, all the way over at the end.  And it doesn’t seem at all pleased about it, because my dictionary tells me that that character means “the sound of stones being struck together.”  Let’s just back away quickly and quietly, shall we?

Anyway, it’s time to announce the very first KYPC Homophone Challenge!  In previous weeks the list of choices were related by meaning or usage, but this week what they have in common is their pronunciation.  I have decided to do this to give you a sense of just how confusing kanji can be.  Every one of these words is pronounced kaisou, but they have the following range of meanings: attending a funeral; class, level, or stratum; grand opening; reminiscence; remodeling; and seaweed.  Choose whichever of these interests you most and try to pick it out.

A. 会葬　B. 改装　C. 回想　D. 開創　E. 階層　F. 海藻

A. 歩 B. 行 C. 来 D. 出 E. 入 F. 走

Okay.  I’ll admit it.  I was kind of hoping to trick you guys with this one.  And it appears I have succeeded.  Both Dragon and Shirley, who most likely were not colluding, went for E, which does look like a man walking (I will not comment on how many arms he appears to have).  This, however, means “enter.”  I did not prepare this grand plot from the get-go, but once I had set up the list, I did notice the potential trap, and I did nothing to remove it.  There, an admission of guilt.  Hopefully that’s “un-Republican” enough for Shirley to forgive me.

A Fan had the right idea this week, which was to guess randomly, thus eluding the snare.  His answer wasn’t correct, but at least he had the right idea.  He gets an A for . . . lack of effort, I suppose.  A is, in fact, the correct answer.  B means go, C means come, D means leave, F means run, and Yellow means, depending on your mood, either slow down or give it all you’ve got.

That ended up not being very exciting to explain.  Hmm . . . what shall we have for next week?  Wait, stand back: I’m going to try . . . SCIENCE!  The next challenge will be on the periodic table of elements.  Fortunately, you don’t have to memorize all of them.  In fact, you only need to worry about one, which, compared to what the chemistry students have to deal with, is remarkably simple.  And hopefully this time people will believe me when I tell them not to worry about the last character, because it appears in every single answer.  It’s elementary, dear readers.  Now, I understand that all the elements are important (with the possible exception of boron), but I can’t see us getting very far without oxygen, so I’ll have you hunt for that.  And if all you aggrieved boron fans want to track your favorite element down, then you can go ahead and do that too.

A. 酸素　B. 水素　C. 炭素　D. 窒素　E. 弗素　F. 硼素

A. 車 B. 自転車 C. 新幹線 D. 地下鉄 E. 電車 F. 飛行機 G. 船

The responses to this week’s challenge featured displays of logic, a tactic not often utilized in KYPC.  The proofs were arranged thusly: 1. Assume that “A” is the basic character for train. 2. Assume that the shinkansen, which is a type of train, will contain this character.  3. Ergo, the shinkansen must be either “B” or “E,” as these are the only compounds which contain “A.”  Q.E.D.  Based on this analysis, A Fan elected to go with B, and Shirley chose E, presumably to increase their chances of at least one of them being right.  It may not seem fair of me to accuse my readers of conspiracy, but if they are going to continue to believe that I am trying to fool them, it is only natural for me to think that they are trying to fool me.

Of course, the problem with this logical approach is that it is based on assumptions.  If either part 1 or part 2 proves to be incorrect, then the conclusion falls flat.  And it goes without saying that, if both propositions are untrue, as they are in this case, you might have been better off picking one at random without even looking at them first.  As it turns out, A by itself means “car,” though this is derived from its original meaning of “wheel.”  Thus, while it does not mean “train,” it does appear in the names of trains:

汽車  列車

The first is a steam train, and the second is a more general term for “train,” referring to something made up of linked cars that travels on tracks.  So, while proposition 1 was not technically correct, it was close enough that they almost got away with it.  But once proposition 2 collapsed, they really had no chance.  Shirley came closer, picking out the “electric train,” which is generally the word that a typical person would use when talking about taking the train.  And she was also correct about it being sleeker than B, A Fan’s older, more utilitarian “bicycle.”

Not that they necessarily would have been any better off ignoring character A.  Let’s take a second to wave to Dragon, who’s way out there on G, hanging out with T-Pain.  Sing it: “SHE’S ON A BOAT!”  She can see F from there, a compound that was entirely forgotten by readers.  Apparently you don’t like traveling by plane any better than I do.  Our other misfit this week is D, the subway.  Theoman, using his hidden technique of actual knowledge, outstripped the bicycles, the boats, and the planes to end up on C, the mighty bullet train.  And, in case you’re curious, shinkansen literally means “new trunk line”- the word refers to both the train itself and the route it travels.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.  How can I quiz you on ways to go places if you don’t even know how to go?  So we’ll look at some basic verbs of motion: come and go, walk and run, enter and exit.  We know that you can all talk the talk, but let’s see if you can spot the walk.

A. 歩 B. 行 C. 来 D. 出 E. 入 F. 走

Unlike many blogs out there, we at the Wandering Wordsman do not see it as our role to engage in social commentary.  That being said, I will make an observation.  I ask you to look for politics, and what do I get?  Shirley, the self-proclaimed expert, hunts for something murky.  Dragon suspects subterfuge.  Theoman is drawn to the unfamiliar, and A Fan concurs.  I don’t know what this says about the state of politics in society today, but whatever it is must be difficult to state explicitly.

Now, for a refreshing change of pace, let’s be blunt: you’re all wrong.

A. 外国語 B. 心理学 C. 数学 D. 政治学 E. 文学 F. 歴史学

On several occasions, participants in KYPC have decided that I am trying to trick them, that I, like an infamous teacher at my high school, feel that I am not doing my job unless people fail.  Not that I have been keeping close track, but I have the impression that guesses based on this assumption have, so far, invariably been wrong.  However, I am pleased that Dragon’s misguided ways led her to guess my particular area of expertise: A, foreign language.  A Fan wandered off on a bizarre tangent, meaning that perhaps he should consult with experts in the field that he guessed: B, psychology.  Theoman’s possible insider knowledge did not lead him to the correct answer, though it did perhaps prevent him from being lured by his own specialty: C, mathematics.  And it seems plain that none of the participants is at all interested in what were called “Textual and Historical Studies” at my university, having completely ignored E, literature, and F, history.  Political Science is D.

We at the Wandering Wordsman understand that the journey is more important than the destination, especially in a feature like KYPC, where so often people don’t end up where they expected.  So this week, instead of concentrating on where you’re going, let’s focus on how you get there.  The topic is modes of transportation.  Since I recently wasted away a few more hours of my life on airplanes, I will ask you to pick out a method of cross-country transportation that I much prefer: the shinkansen, or, as it is better known in English, the “bullet train.”

A. 車 B. 自転車 C. 新幹線 D. 地下鉄 E. 電車 F. 飛行機 G. 船