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Thanks to our Partner, NAPA Autotech TrainingKey Takeaways:Survey Demographics & LimitationsSkewed Representation: 62% of respondents had 20+ years of experience, while entry-level and mid-career techs were underrepresented. Geographically, responses were heavy in the East/Midwest but sparse in central/western U.S.ASE Certification Bias: 80% of respondents held ASE certifications, contrasting with the broader industry (only ~25% of U.S. technicians are ASE-certified). Fanslow urges broader participation for accurate data.What Technicians WantProper shop equipment (87%) – Includes OE tools (e.g., GTS+ for Toyota/Honda), ADAS calibration tools, and powertrain tables 210.Paid vacation (83%) and retirement plans (72%) – Fanslow notes ambiguity in definitions (e.g., weeks offered) and calls for industry standardization.Paid training (65%) – Despite high demand, many techs underutilize training opportunities.Hourly/salary (majority) > hourly + production bonus (25%) > flat rate (20%). Fanslow attributes this to desire for stability, especially in rust-prone regions where labor guides may be unrealistic.Industry Pain PointsLow Satisfaction: Only 49% would recommend their shop to a friend. Poor communication (30% approval) and inadequate mentorship (
Thanks to our Partner, NAPA Autotech TrainingKey Takeaways:Survey Demographics & LimitationsSkewed Representation: 62% of respondents had 20+ years of experience, while entry-level and mid-career techs were underrepresented. Geographically, responses were heavy in the East/Midwest but sparse in central/western U.S.ASE Certification Bias: 80% of respondents held ASE certifications, contrasting with the broader industry (only ~25% of U.S. technicians are ASE-certified). Fanslow urges broader participation for accurate data.What Technicians WantProper shop equipment (87%) – Includes OE tools (e.g., GTS+ for Toyota/Honda), ADAS calibration tools, and powertrain tables 210.Paid vacation (83%) and retirement plans (72%) – Fanslow notes ambiguity in definitions (e.g., weeks offered) and calls for industry standardization.Paid training (65%) – Despite high demand, many techs underutilize training opportunities.Hourly/salary (majority) > hourly + production bonus (25%) > flat rate (20%). Fanslow attributes this to desire for stability, especially in rust-prone regions where labor guides may be unrealistic.Industry Pain PointsLow Satisfaction: Only 49% would recommend their shop to a friend. Poor communication (30% approval) and inadequate mentorship (
This episode we are covering the end of the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou. We cover the events in the Chronicles, including the death of Nakatomi no Kamatari, the creation of the Fujiwara family, the destruction of Goguryeo, and the continued development of the Baekje refugees. For more, check out the podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-128 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 128: Immigrants, Princes, and High Officials. There was a pall over the house, despite the visiting royal retinue creating something of a stir,. While craftspeople were still hard at work repairing damage from the lightning strike only a few months earlier, that wasn't the reason for the low spirits. Rather, the house was worried for their patriarch, the Naidaijin, Nakatomi no Kamatari. He had fallen ill, and despite all the pleas to the kami and the Buddhas , it seemed the end might be near. And so even the sovereign himself had come. Kamatari was not just a loyal official, but a close friend of the sovereign, someone who had been there since the beginning. And so we can imagine how Naka no Oe felt. He may have been the sovereign of Yamato, but he was still a human being, visiting his friend of some 30 or so years, knowing that for all of the power that he held, there was nothing he could do against the ravages of time and disease. The year is 668—Naka no Oe has moved the capital to Ohotsu, on the banks of Lake Biwa, and has formally assumed the throne. This episode we are going to cover the last several years of Naka no Oe's reign. In contrast to last week's dive into Yamato science, this week is going to be a bit of a grab bag, looking at what was going on in Yamato and talking about what was recorded in the Chronicles. And for the most part, the entries for the rest of the year 668 are fairly normal, and yet there are some oddities… For instance, in the fourth month we are told that Baekje sent Mitosapu and others to offer tribute. And any other time that would be just a normal thing. Except that at this point in history, Baekje was about as going a concern as a parrot in a Monty Python sketch. So if the Kingdom of Baekje was no longer a thing, who was it that was sending the tribute? Most likely it was the Baekje communities in exile living in the archipelago. Remember how many of them had settled around Biwa and in 666, two thousand Baekje people were settled somewhere in the East. These immigrants were still being supported by the Yamato government, who were basically subsidizing their settlement for the first three years, during which time they would be expected to make it into a permanent settlement. Based on the way the Chronicles talk about it, these early Baekje communities sound like they were maintaining a kind of kingdom in exile. With many immigrants from Baekje living together in proximity, they were likely keeping their own groups, with their own language and traditions, at least for now. It would be interesting to know if there were specific Baekje settlements that have been identified through the archaeological record. That said, we definitely see Baekje's mark on the archipelago: Physically, there are the Baekje style castles, and various temples following Baekje style layouts. Of course there were also continental building styles, but some of that was shared across multiple cultures at this point, and one should consider how much Baekje influence might have been found in things that we later see as Japanese. Additionally, Baekje nobles were involved in the court, often given court rank based in part on their rank in Baekje, though it wasn't quite equivalent. Still, in time, some of the nobles would trace their lineages back to Baekje nobles and princes. Speaking of princes and Baekje, on the fifth day of the fifth month of 668 —a day that would come to be known as Ayame no hi, or Tango no Sekku, one of the major days of court ceremony—Naka no Oe went out hunting on the moor of Kamafu, known today as Gamou district, near Kanzaki, where 400 Baekje people had been settled. He was out there with the Crown Prince, his younger brother, aka Prince Ohoama, and all the other princes and ministers. A grand outing. A month later, however, tragedy struck. One “Prince Ise” and his younger brother died on consecutive days. While this was undoubtedly a blow to the court, the interesting thing for our purposes – which also highlights the challenge of interpreting the Chronicles is that we aren't exactly sure who this is referring to. It's not the first time we've seen this title: we first see a “Prince Ise” show up around 650, during the presentation of the white pheasant that ushered in the Hakuho era, but we later see that that individual had passed away in 661. We also see the name show up less than 20 years later in the Chronicles for another prince, so this can't be the same. So this is clearly a position or title for a prince, but it isn't clear if it was passed down or inherited. One possibility is that “Prince Ise” or “Prince of Ise” was a title for one of the royal sons. IAt this point in the narrative, Naka no Oe had three sons. Prince Takeru had passed away at the age of 8, but he also had Prince Kawajima, Prince Shiki, and Prince Iga, aka Prince Ohotomo, all sons of “palace women”. We know, though, that these princes show up later, so I don't think the so-called Prince Ise was one of them. Perhaps another line? The term “Prince” might also refer to something other than a royal son. You see, English translators have often been somewhat cavalier with the way we tend to render titles. The English term “Prince” has been used for “Hiko”, “Miko”, or “Ou” (which was probably pronounced “Miko” in many of these cases). And in English, we often think of “Prince” as the son of a king, but “Prince” can also be an independent ruler of a principality, or may just refer to a person with power in a monarchic state. Even the term “king” is not unambiguous—early European accounts of Japan during the Warring States period often refer to the various daimyou as “kings”, given the often absolute dominion with which they apparently ruled their particular domains. At this time, the term “Miko” (also pronounced “ouji”, or “koushi”, or even “sume-miko”) seems rather unambiguously to refer to a “royal prince”, from the lineage of the sovereign. The term “Ou”, which also seems to be read as “Miko” in some cases, is also the term for “King” and probably more broadly fits the concept of a “prince” as a ruler. However, in this case, it seems to be equal to the term “Miko”, and may have been used almost interchangeably for a time, though later it would be used to refer to members of princely rank who were not directly related to a reigning sovereign—the grandchildren and so forth of royal princes who did not go on to inherit. In this case, I think the best we can say for certain is that Prince Ise—or the Prince of Ise—was someone important enough to be included in the chronicles – but who he was, exactly, will remain a mystery for now. The following month, the 7th month, was chock full of activities. First of all, Goguryeo sent envoys by way of Koshi—meaning they landed on the Japan Sea side, probably around Tsuruga. While this may just have been closer, I suspect it meant they avoided any Tang entanglements traveling through the Bohai sea. They did run into a spot of trouble, however, as the winds and waves prevented their return. Koshi also shows up as presenting some strange gifts to the court: burning earth and burning water. There is some thought that maybe this is something like coal or natural oil deposits. We are also told that in this month, Prince Kurikuma was appointed the governor of Tsukushi. Kurikuma no Ou appears to have been the grandson—or possibly great-grandson—of the sovereign, Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou. The position Kurikuma was given was important, of course, overseeing the Dazai, which meant overseeing anyone traveling to the archipelago from the continent. This would be a relatively short-lived appointment—this time. He would be re-appointed about three years later, which would prove important, as he would be governor there during some particularly momentous events. Stories appear to have continued about him in the Nagasaki region, and various families traced their lineage back to him. Also in that month, we are told that Afumi, home of the new capital, practiced military exercises—likely in preparation in case of a future Tang or Silla invasion. Recall we discussed in Episode 126 how the choice of Afumi as a capital site might have been related to its defensibility in the event of such an invasion. At the same time, the court entertained Emishi envoys, and the toneri, by royal command, held banquets in various places. There is also mention of a shore-pavillion, presumably at Lake Biwa, where fish of various kinds came, covering the water. Interestingly enough, there is another story of a “shore pavilion”, likely the same one, in the Fujiwara Family Record, the Toushi Kaden. We are told that Prince Ohoama – Naka no Oe's younger brother spiked a large spear through a plank of wood in some kind of feat of strength. This apparently shocked Naka no Oe, who saw it aa kind of threat—perhaps seeing that his five-years younger brother was still hale and healthy. Granted, Naka no Oe was only in his 40s, but his brother Ohoama was in his later 30s. We are also told that at this time, in 668, Naka no Oe was apparently not doing so well, with people wondering if he would be with them much longer. The Toshi Kaden account seems rather surprising in that it claims Naka no Oe was so shocked by this proof of his brother's vitality that he wanted to have him put to death, suggesting to me that he felt that Ohoama might be a threat to him and his rule. Ultimately, though, he was talked out of this by his old friend, Nakatomi no Kamatari – the one whom he had plotted with to overthrow the Soga, and whose relationship was initiated by an interaction on the kemari field, as we discussed in Episode 106. Speaking of whom: Nakatomi no Kamatari was still Naijin, the Inner or Interior Minister, and so quite prominent in the administration. In the 9th month, as a Silla envoy was visiting the court, Kamatari sent Buddhist priests Hoben and Shinpitsu to present a ship to the Prime Minister of Silla, which was given to the Silla envoy and his companions, and three days later, Fuse no Omi no Mimimaro was sent with a ship meant for the King of Silla as well. This incident is also recounted in the Toshi Kaden. In this case it says that the people, hearing about the gifts to Silla, were quite upset. After all, it stands to reason: Yamato was still smarting from their defeat at the hands of Tang and Silla forces, and building up defenses in case of an attack. They'd also taken in a number of Baekje nobles and families, who may have also had some influence on the court. We are told that Kamatari himself excused all of this by stating that “All under heaven must be the sovereign's land. The guests within its borders must be the sovereign's servants.” In this case, all under heaven, or “Tenka”, is a common phrase used to describe a monarch's sovereignty over everything in the land. And so, while Silla envoys were in Yamato as guests, they also fell under similar rules, and as such were considered, at least by Yamato, as the sovereign's servants and thus worthy of gifts. The Silla envoys stayed for over a month. They finally departed by the 11th month of 668, carrying even more gifts, including silk and leather for the King and various private gifts for the ambassadors themselves. The court even sent Chimori no Omi no Maro and Kishi no Woshibi back with the envoy as Yamato envoys to the Silla court. This all tells us that just as the Tang were working to woo Yamato, Silla was likely doing so as well. And while Yamato might still begrudge the destruction of Baekje, they also had to face the political reality that Baekje was probably not going to be reinstated again—especially not while the Tang government was occupying the peninsula. So making nice with both Tang and Silla was prudent. Furthermore, though they had been visited by Goguryeo envoys earlier that year, Yamato may have had some inkling that Goguryeo was not in the most powerful position. Ever since the death of Yeon Gaesomun, the Goguryeo court had been involved in infighting—as well as fighting their external enemies. One of Gaesomun's sons had been exiled and had gone over to the Tang, no doubt providing intelligence as well as some amount of legitimacy. What they may not have known was that as Yamato was hosting the Silla envoys, a new assault by the Tang-Silla alliance was advancing on Pyongyang and setting siege to the city. The Nihon Shoki records that in the 10th month of 668 Duke Ying, the Tang commander-in-chief, destroyed Goguryeo. This would dramatically change the international political landscape. Tang and Silla had been triumphant—Yamato's allies on the peninsula had been defeated, and what we know as the “Three Kingdoms” period of the Korean peninsula was over. However, the situation was still fluid. The peninsula was not unified by any sense of the imagination. The Tang empire had their strategic positions from which they controlled parts of the peninsula and from which they had been supplying the war effort against Goguryeo. They also likely had to occupy areas to ensure that nobody rose up and tried to reconstitute the defeated kingdoms. In fact, there would be continued attempts to revive Goguryeo, as might be indicated in the name we use: by the 5th century, the country was actually using the name “Goryeo”, a shortened form of “Goguryeo”, but we continue to refer to it as “Goguryeo” to distinguish it from the country of the same name that would be established in 918, laying claim to that ancient Goguryeo identity. A bit of spoilers, but “Goryeo” is where we would eventually get the name that we know the region by, today: “Korea”. In the Nihon Shoki it is referred to as “Gaori”. But none of that could have been known at the time. Instead, there was no doubt some exuberance on the side of both Silla and Tang, but that would settle into something of unease. With Baekje and Goguryeo destroyed, Silla may have thought that Tang would leave, allowing them to solidify their hold and manage those territories as an ally. If this is what they thought, though, I'm not sure they had run it by the Tang empire just yet. In the Yamato court, there appear to have been separate factions: a pro-Tang faction, and also a pro-Silla faction. We have to assume, based on the actions in the record at this time, that this was a ongoing debate. The last thing I'll note for the year 668 is attempted theft. The Buddhist priest Dougyou stole Kusanagi, the famous sword forming part of the imperial regalia, and escaped with it. Kusanagi, you may recall, was the royal sword. It was named “Kusanagi” or “grass cutter” because it is said that when Prince Yamato Takeru was subduing the eastern lands, he was surrounded in a field that had been set on fire, and he used Kusanagi to create a firebreak by cutting down all of the grass around him. The sword was given to him by Yamato Hime, the Ise Princess at the time, and it was thought to have been first found by the god Susanowo inside of the legendary Yamata no Orochi. We talked about this in Episodes 16, 34, and 35. Yamato Takeru left the sword in Owari, and it would eventually live there, at Atsuta Jingu, Atsuta Shrine, its traditional home. It isn't clear if Dougyou obtained the sword from Owari or if it was being kept in the capital at the time. It would have likely been brought out for Naka no Oe's coronation, but then it would probably have been returned to the shrine that was holding it. Dougyou tried to head to Silla with his illicit goods, but wind and rain forced him to turn back around. This is a fascinating story and there's a lot to dive into here. So first off, let's point out that this is supposed to be a Buddhist priest. What the heck was going on that he was going to try to run a heist on what are essentially the Crown Jewels of the Yamato crown? While the sword, mirror, and jewel were still somewhat questionable as the sole three regalia, they were clearly important. We aren't given Dougyou's motives. We don't know enough about him. Was he anti-Yamato or anti-Naka no Oe? Was he actually a Buddhist priest of his own accord, or was he a priest because he was one of those who had been essentially conscripted into religious orders on behalf of some powerful noble? Was he a Buddhist who wanted to attack the hold of the kami? Was he pro-Silla, or perhaps even a Silla descendant, trying to help Silla? Or was he just a thief who saw the sword, Kusanagi, as a valuable artifact that could be pawned outside of Yamato? That last possibility feels off. While we aren't exactly sure what Kusanagi looked like, based on everything we know, the sword itself wasn't necessarily blinged out in a way that would make it particularly notable on the continent. And if Dougyou and whoever his co-conspirators were just wanted to attack the Yamato government, why didn't he just dump Kusanagi in the see somewhere? He could have destroyed it or otherwise gotten rid of it in a way that would have embarrassed the government. It seems mostly likely that this theft had something to do with pro-Silla sentiment, as if Silla suddenly showed up with the sword, I imagine that would have been some diplomatic leverage on the Yamato court, as they could have held it hostage. In any case, the plan ultimately failed, though the Chronicles claim it was only because the winds were against him—which was likely seen as the kami themselves defending Yamato. On to a new year. At the start of 669, Prince Kurikuma (who we mentioned above) was recalled to the capital and Soga no Akaye was appointed governor of Tsukushi. We mentioned Akaye a couple of episodes back. He was involved in the broken arm-rest incident, where Prince Arima was plotting against Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, and Akaye's daughter Hitachi no Iratsume, was one of the formal wives of Naka no Oe, who would give birth to the princess Yamabe. Now Akaye was given the position of governor of Tsukushi. This position is an interesting one throughout Japanese history. In many ways it is a viceroy—the governor of Tsukushi has to effectively speak with the voice of the sovereign as the person responsible for overseeing any traffic to and from the continent. This also was likely a highly lucrative position, only handed out to trusted individuals. However, it also meant that you were outside of the politics of the court. Early on that was probably less of a concern. At this time, court nobles were likely still concerned with their traditional lands, which created their economic base, meaning that the court may have been the political center, but there was still plenty of ways to gain power in the archipelago and it wasn't solely through the court. Over time, as more and more power accrued to the central court government, that would change. Going out to manage a government outpost on the far end of the archipelago—let alone just going back to manage one's own estates—would be tantamount to exile. But for now, without a permanent city built up around the palace, I suspect that being away from the action in the capital wasn't quite as detrimental compared to the lucrative nature of a powerful position. Later, we will see how that flips on its head, especially with the construction of capitals on the model of those like Chang'an. For now, new governor Soga no Akaye was likely making the most of his position. On that note, in the third month of 669, Tamna sent their prince Kumaki with envoys and tribute. They would have come through Tsukushi, and Soga no Akaye likely enjoyed some benefits as they were entertained while waiting for permission to travel the rest of the way down to the Yamato capital. The Tamna embassy did not exactly linger at the court. They arrived on the 11th of the 3rd month, and left one week—seven days—later, on the 18th. Still, they left with a gift of seed-grain made to the King of Tamna. On their way out, they likely would have again stopped in at Tsukushi for provisions and to ensure that all of their business was truly concluded before departing. A couple of months later, on the 5th day of the 5th month, we see another hunting party by Naka no Oe. This seems to have been part of the court ritual of the time for this ceremonial day. This time it was on the plain of Yamashina. It was attended by his younger brother, Crown Prince Ohoama, as well as someone called “Fujiwara no Naidaijin” and all of the ministers. “Fujiwara no Naidaijin” is no doubt Nakatomi no Kamatari. This is an interesting slip by the Chroniclers, and I wonder if it gives us some insight into the source this record came from. Kamatari was still known as Nakatomi at the time, and was still the Naidaijin, so it is clear they were talking about him. But historically his greatest reputation is as the father of the Fujiwara family, something we will get to in time. That said, a lot of the records in this period refer to him as “Fujiwara”. We've seen this previously—because the records were being written later they were often using a more common name for an individual, rather than the name—including title—that the individual actually would have borne at the time of the record. This really isn't that different from the way we often talk about the sovereigns using their posthumous names. Naka no Oe would not have been known as “Tenji Tennou” during his reign. That wouldn't be used until much later. And yet, many history books will, understandably, just use the name “Tenji” because it makes it clear who is being talked about. This hunting trip is not the only time we see the name “Fujiwara” creep into the Chronicles a little earlier than accurate: we are told that only a little later, the house of “Fujiwara” no Kamatari was struck by lightning. But that wasn't the only tragedy waiting in the wings. Apparently, Kamatari was not doing so well, and on the 10th day of the 10th month, his friend and sovereign, Naka no Oe, showed up to pay his respects and see how he was doing. Ever since that fateful game of kemari—Japanese kickball—the two had been fast friends. Together they envisioned a new state. They overthrew the Soga, and changed the way that Japan even conceived of the state, basing their new vision off continental ideas of statehood, governance, and sovereignty. Now, Kamatari was gravely ill. What happens next is likely of questionable veracity Sinceit is unlikely that someone was there writing down the exact words that were exchanged, but the Chronicles record a conversation between the sovereign and his ill friend. And the words that the Chroniclers put in their mouths were more about the image that they wanted to project. According to them, Naka no Oe praised his friend, and asked if there was anything that he could do. Kamatari supposedly eschewed anything special for burial arrangements. He supposedly said “While alive I did no service for my country at war; why, then, should I impose a heavy burden on it when I am dead?” Hard to know if he actually felt like that or not, or if thr Chroniclers were likening him to Feng Yi of the Han dynasty, the General of the Great Tree. He was so-called because he would often find a tree to take time to himself. He likewise was renowned for his dislike of ostentation, much like Kamatari foregoing a fancy burial mound. Five days later, Naka no Oe sent Crown Prince Ohoama to Kamatari's house to confer on him the cap of Dai-shiki, and the rank of Oho-omi. They also conferred on him and his family a new surname: Fujiwara, and so he became Fujiwara no Daijin, the Fujiwara Great Minister. The next day he died. One source known as the Nihon Seiki, said that he was 50 years old, but according to the Chronicles there was an inscription on his tomb that stated he died at age 55. Three days later, we are told that Naka no Oe went to the house of the now late Fujiwara no Naidaijin, and gave orders to Soga no Akaye no Omi, declaring to him his gracious will and bestowing on him a golden incense-burner. This is somewhat odd, because as we were just talking about, Soga no Akaye had been appointed governor of Tsukushi, though the Toshi Kaden claims that it was actually Soga no Toneri who was in Tsukushi—but these could also mean the same people. Why this happened right after Kamatari's death suggests to me that Soga no Akaye may have had something to do with the arrangements for Kamatari's funeral or something similar. Let's talk about this whole incident. There are many that think the Nihon Shoki has things a bit out of order, and on purpose. Specifically, it is quite likely that the name “Fujiwara” was actually granted after Kamatari's death, and not on the day of, as it has here. He may even have been posthumously elevated. But since the Fujiwara family would go on to be quite powerful, the order of events and how they were recorded would have been very important in the 8th century. By naming Kamatari's line the Fujiwara, the court were effectively severing it from the rest of the Nakatomi. The Nakatomi family would continue to serve as court ritualists, but the Fujiwara family would go on to much bigger and better things. This change also likely meant that any inheritance of Kamatari's would go to his direct descendants, and that a brother or cousin couldn't necessarily just take over as the head of the household. So it's very possible that this “setting apart” of the Fujiwara family immediately upon Kamatari's death is a later fiction, encouraged by the rising Fujiwara themselves, in an attempt to keep others from hanging on to their coat tails, as it were. Also a quick note about the idea that there was an inscription on Kamatari's tomb. This is remarkable because so far, we have not actually found any such markers or tombstones on burials prior to this period. We assume that they would have been stone or wood markers that were put up by a mound to let you know something about the person who was buried there. Over time, most of these likely wore away. But it is interesting to think that the practice may have had older roots. The death of Kamatari wasn't the only tragedy that year. We are also told that in the 12th month there was a fire in the Treasury, and that the temple of Ikaruga—known to us as Houryuuji, the temple built by Shotoku Taishi—also was burnt. It isn't said how bad, but only three months later, in 670, another fire struck during a thunderstorm, and we are told that everything burned down—nothing was left. That said, it seems that they may have been able to reuse some of the materials. I say this because an analysis of the main pillar of the pagoda in the western compound suggests that the tree it came from was felled in 594. The rest of 699 included some less dramatic events. For instance, in the 8th month, Naka no Oe climbed to the top of Takayasu, where he took advice as to how to repair the castle there. The castle had been built only a couple of years earlier, but already needed repairs. However, the initial repair project had been abandoned because the labor costs were too much. The repairs were still needed, though, and they carried out the work four months later in the 12th month, and again in the 2nd month of the following year, and that stores of grain and salt were collected, presumably to stock the castle in case they had to withstand a siege. I suspect that the “cost” of repairing the castle was mostly that it was the 8th month, and the laborers for the work would have to be taken away from the fields. By the 12th month, I can only assume that those same laborers would be free from their other duties. Speaking of costs, sometimes the Chronicles really make you wonder what was going through the mind of the writers, because they noted that the Land-tax of the Home Provinces was collected. Maybe this was the first time it had actually been instituted? I don't know. It just seems an odd thing to call out. There was also 700 more men from Baekje removed and settled in Kamafu—Gamou District—in Afumi. And then there was a Silla embassy in the 9th month, and at some point in the year Kawachi no Atahe no Kujira and others were sent to the Tang court. In response, an embassy from the Tang to Yamato brought 2000 people with them, headed by Guo Wucong, who I really hope was getting some kind of premiere cruiser status for all of his trips. The following year, 700, started out with a great archery meeting, arranged within the palace gate. I presume this to mean that they had a contest. Archery at this time—and even for years to come—was prized more highly than even swordplay. After all, archery was used both in war and on the hunt. It is something that even the sage Confucius suggested that people should practice. It is also helpful that they could always shoot at targets as a form of competition and entertainment. Later, on the 14th day of the 1st month, Naka no Oe promulgated new Court ceremonial regulations, and new laws about people giving way on the roads. This rule was that those of lower status should get out of the way of those of higher status. Funnily enough, in the description of Queen Himiko's “Yamateg”, back in the 3rd century, this was also called out as a feature of the country. It is possible that he was codifying a local tradition, or that the tradition actually goes back to the continent, and that the Wei Chroniclers were projecting such a rule onto the archipelago. I'm honestly not sure which is which. Or perhaps they expanded the rules and traditions already in place. There were also new laws about prohibiting “heedless slanders and foul falsehoods”, which sounds great, but doesn't give you a lot to go on. The law and order theme continues in the following month. A census was taken and robbers and vagabonds were suppressed. Naka no Oe also visited Kamafu, where he had settled a large number of the Baekje people, and inspected a site for a possible future palace. He also had castles built in Nagato in Tsukushi, along the route of any possible invasion from the Korean peninsula. In the third month, we have evidence of the continued importance of kami worship, when they laid out places of worship close to Miwi mountain and distributed offerings of cloth. Nakatomi no Kane no Muraji pronounced the litany. Note that it is Nakatomi no Muraji—as we mentioned, the Nakatomi would continue to be responsible for ceremonial litany while the Imibe, or Imbe, family would be responsible for laying out the various offerings. Miwi would seem to be the same location as Miidera, aka Onjou-ji, but Miidera wouldn't be founded for another couple of years. In the 9th month of 670, Adzumi no Tsuratari, an accomplished ambassador by this point, travelled to Silla. Tsuratari had been going on missions during the reign of Takara Hime, both to Baekje and to the lands across the “Western Seas”. While we don't exactly know what transpired, details like this can help us try to piece together something of the relative importance of the mission. In the last entry for 670, we are told that water-mills were made to smelt iron. If you are wondering how that works, it may have been that the waterwheel powered trip hammers—it would cause the hammer to raise up until it reached a point where it would fall. Not quite the equivalent of a modern power hammer, it still meant that fewer people were needed for the process, and they didn't have to stop just because their arms got tired. The following year, 671, got off to a grand start, with a lot of momentous events mentioned in just the first month of the year. First off, on the 2nd day of the first month, Soga no Akaye – now back from his stint as governor of Tsukushi - and Kose no Hito advanced in front of the palace and offered their congratulations on the new year. Three days later, on the 5th day, Nakatomi no Kane, who had provided the litany at Miwi, made an announcement on kami matters. Then the court made official appointments. Soga no Akaye was made the Sadaijin, or Prime Minister of the Left, and Nakatomi no Kane was made Prime Minister of the Right. Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi were all made daibu, or high ministers. On top of this, Naka no Ohoe's son, Prince Ohotomo, was appointed as Dajodaijin. “Dajodaijin” is a new position that we haven't seen yet, and it is one of those positions that would only show up on occasion. It is effectively a *Prime* Prime Minister. They were considered superior to both the ministers of the left and the right, but didn't exactly have a particular portfolio. The Ministers of the Left and the Right each had ministries under them that they were responsible for managing. Those ministries made up the Daijo-kan, or the Council of State. The Dajodaijin, or Daijodaijin, was basically the pre-eminent position overseeing the Council of State. I suspect that the Dajodaijin seems to have been the evolution of the Naidaijin, but on steroids. Nakatomi no Kamatari had administered things as Naidaijin from within the royal household, but the Dajodaijin was explicitly at the head of the State. Of course, Prince Ohotomo was the son of Naka no Oe himself, and the fact that he was only 23 years old and now put in a place of prominence over other ministers who were quite likely his senior, is remarkable. I wonder how much he actually was expected to do, and how much it was largely a ceremonial position, but it nonetheless placed Ohotomo just below his uncle, Crown Prince Ohoama, in the overall power structure of the court. Speaking of which, following the new appointments, on the 6th day of the year, Crown Prince Ohoama promulgated regulations on the behalf of his brother, Naka no Oe. There was also a general amnesty declared, and the ceremonial and names of the cap-ranks were described in what the Chronicles calls the Shin-ritsu-ryo, the New Laws. Towards the end of the first month, there were two embassies, both from now-defunct kingdoms. The first was from Goguryeo, who reportedly sent someone named Karu and others with Tribute on the 9th day, and 4 days later, Liu Jenyuan, the Tang general for Baekje sent Li Shouchen and others to present a memorial. I'm not sure if the Goguryeo envoys were from a government in exile or from a subjugated kingdom under Tang and Silla domination. The Tang general in Baekje was a little more transparent. That said, that same month we are told that more than 50 Baekje nobles were given Yamato court rank, perhaps indicating that they were being incorporated more into the Yamato court and, eventually, society as a whole. That said, the remains of the Baekje court sent Degu Yongsyeon and others with tribute the following month. This is also the year that Naka no Oe is said to have placed the clepsydra or water clock in a new pavilion. We talked about this significance of this last episode. We are also told that on the third day of the third month, Kibumi no Honjitsu presented a “water level”, a Mizu-hakari. This would seem to be what it sounds like: A way of making sure that a surface is level using water. There is also mention of the province of Hitachi presenting as “tribute” Nakatomibe no Wakako. He was only 16 years old, and yet we are told he was only one and a half feet in height—one shaku six sun, more appropriately. Assuming modern conversions, that would have put him approximately the same height as Chandra Dangi of Nepal, who passed away in 2015 but who held the Guiness World Record for the world's shortest person at 21.5”—or 54 centimeters. So it isn't impossible. The fact that he is called “Nakatomibe” suggests that he was part of the family, or -Be group, that served the Nakatomi court ritualists. Unfortunately, he was probably seen more as an oddity than anything else at the time. Still, how many people from that time are not remembered at all, in any extant record? And yet we have his name, which is more than most. In the following month, we are also told that Tsukushi reported a deer that had been born with eight legs. Unfortunately, the poor thing died immediately, which is unfortunately too often the case. And then the fifth day of the fifth month rolled around again. This year there was no hunting, but instead Naka no Oe occupied the “Little Western Palace” and the Crown Prince and all of the ministers attended him. We are told that two “rustic” dances were performed—presumably meaning dances of some local culture, rather than those conforming to the art standards passed down from the continent. As noted earlier, this day would be one of the primary ceremony days of the later court. The following month, we are told that there was an announcement in regards to military measures requested by the messengers from the three departments of Baekje, and later the Baekje nobles sent Ye Chincha and others to bring tribute. Once again, what exactly this means isn't clear, but it is interesting to note that there were three “departments” of Baekje. It is unclear if this was considered part of the court, or if this was Baekje court in exile managing their own affairs as a guest in Yamato. It is also interesting that they seem to have been traveling to the Yamato court while Li Shouchen was still there, sent by the Tang general overseeing Baekje. That must have been a bit of an awkward meeting. We are told that they all took their departure together on the 11th day of the 7th month. Does that mean they left with the Tang envoy? Was the Tang inviting some of them to come back? Or just that they all left the court at the same time. The same month, Prince Kurikuma was once more made Governor of Tsukushi—or possibly made governor the first time, depending on whether or not you think the Chronicles are accurate or that they pulled the same event twice from different sources. We are also told that Silla sent envoys with gifts that included a water buffalo and a copper pheasant for the sovereign. The 8th month of the year, we hear that Karu of Goguryeo and his people took their leave after a seven month long visit. The court also entertained the Emishi. Two months later, Silla sent Kim Manmol and others with more tribute, but this envoy likely found a different feeling at court. And that is because on the 18th day of the 8th month, the sovereign of Yamato, Naka no Oe, took to his bed, ill. There was a ceremony to open the eyes of 100 Buddhas in the interior of the palace, and Naka no Oe sent messengers to offer to the giant Buddha of Houkouji a kesa, a golden begging-bowl, an ivory tusk, aloeswood, sandalwood, and various objects of value, but despite any spiritual merit that may have accrued, it didn't seem to work. Naka no Oe's illness continued to grow more serious. He would continue to struggle for another two months, until, on the 3rd day of the twelfth month, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, sovereign of Yamato, passed away. For all that we should be careful to avoid the “Great Man” theory of history, it is nonetheless hard to deny that Naka no Oe had an incredible impact on the country in his days. From start to finish, while one could argue that many of the reforms were simply a matter of time as the archipelago absorbed more and more ideas from across the straits, Naka no Oe found himself in the middle of those reforms. The Yamato State would never be the same, and he oversaw the birth of the Ritsuryo state, a new state nominally based on laws and rules, rather than just tradition. It may not be entirely clear, but he also helped inculcate a new sense of the power of the sovereign and of the state, introducing new cultural imaginaries. Yamato's reach wasn't just vague boasting, but by instituting the bureaucratic state they were able to actually expand the reach of the court farther than any time before. And through those changes, Naka no Oe had, in one way or another, been standing at the tiller. Now, he was gone, as were many of his co-conspirators in this national project. Which leaves us wondering: What comes next? Well, we'll get to that, but not right now. For now, let us close this episode with Naka no Oe's own end. Next episode, we can get into the power struggles that followed, culuminating in an incident known as the Jinshin no Ran: The Jinshin war. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
Organic & downtempo glowy set performed on Thursday Afternoon at the Oe-aa-sieS camp, Afrikaburn 2025.
Ela é especialista em automação e estratégias digitais, está há quatro anos no mercado e já faturou R$ 4 milhões de reais vendendo o serviço de gestão de automação e também ensinando três mil alunos a fazerem o mesmo. Agora, ela vem compartilhar um pouco do que sabe no Kiwicast.O nome dela é Luciana Papini e ela conversou com a gente sobre:Quando saber a hora de automatizar?Ferramentas de automação que um negócio precisa terPrimeiros passos para aplicar automação no negócio Apostando na carreira de gestor de automaçõesComo lidar com as frustrações no início do digitalPrincipais habilidades para ser um gestor de automaçõesSaiba prospectar clientes para oferecer o serviço Fazendo a precificação para a gestão de automaçãoE muito mais!Quer saber tudo o que a Luciana Papini disse pra gente?Dá o play no Kiwicast de hoje. E conta pra gente nos comentários o maior insight que você tirou do episódio.
Welcome to Oconee's Own, a podcast production of The Oconee Enterprise. This week's episode features an interview with The Oconee Enterprise Community Engagement Director and Podcast Host Caitlin Farmer, where she discusses how her roles at The OE have changed, what she's been working on in her role and her favorite restaurants in Oconee County. You can find our publication at OconeeEnterprise.com. Please email any questions for Caitlin and any podcast questions or suggestions to Podcast@OconeeEnterprise.com. To fill out the Google Form from The OE's Community Listening Session, visit https://forms.gle/kEUHZc3HxvPc2GtK8.
Deixa eu te fazer uma pergunta que vai mexer com sua cabeça:Quando foi a última vez que você RECUSOU dinheiro fácil para proteger sua marca?Pois é. A maioria aceita qualquer coisa, vende para qualquer um, e depois reclama que a marca não tem valor.Mas a High Company, lá de Vitória-ES, fez o oposto.Eles disseram "NÃO" mais de 3.000 vezes.E olha só no que deu:
O E-book já está disponível na Amazon, o link para você adquirir já está disponível no nosso site e na foto deste episódio, e para você que acompanha o Projeto Orai Sem Cessar em outro país, o livro com capa comum também já está disponível no site da Amazon. E pra você mora no Brasil, se quiser adquirir o livro físico, basta enviar uma mensagem através do www.projetooraisemcessar.com ou no e-mail: projetoraisemcessar@gmail.com
OCAF has a new director.The OE is hosting a listening session tonight, June 5, from 6-7p.m. at the Oconee County Library.Stuart Steele brings a recruitment update.Check out The Oconee County GuideSubscribe online at OconeeEnterprise.com
This episode we look at time and direction and the influence of geomancy--theories of Yin and Yang and a little bit of how people viewed the world through that lens. For more, check out the blog page: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-127 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is episode 127: Time and Direction in Ancient Yamato Officers of the court stood in the pavilion. The soft trill of water could be heard trickling from one reservoir to the next. They watched closely, as the figure of a court official, one hand out, pointing at a measuring stick, slowly rose along with the water. Eventually, the figure's outstretched arm indicated a line with a single character next to it. On cue, one of the officials began to beat the large drum that was nearby. The rhythm was slow, but deliberate, and the sound was loud, echoing out to the mountains and back, showering the nearby palaces in a layer of sound. Across the palace, people briefly paused, took note of the number of strokes, and by that they knew the time of day. Without giving it much more thought, they then went about their business. This episode we find ourselves partway through the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou—his formal reign started in 668, but he had been pretty much running things since the death of Takara Hime in 661 and, arguably, for much longer than that. 668, however, saw Naka no Oe ascend the throne in his new palace of Otsu no Miya, officially making him the sovereign. And although 645 is the year Naka no Oe and others had started the Taika Reforms, it's not wrong to say that that 668 and the start of Naka no Oe's official reign, brief as it would be, that he finally had the ability to bring it all together and set it into stone. We've talked about many of these reforms before on the podcast, but a lot of them were associated with the continued push to incorporate continental concepts into Yamato society, covering everything from court ranks to how to organize agricultural production. Of course, there was also Buddhism, which we've covered numerous times, but there were other concepts coming across as well, including ideas about history and writing, as well as ancient STEM—Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics. This included architects, and new ways of constructing buildings. And it also meant ways of seeing the world, including things like directions and time. And this is what I want to focus on this episode, taking a break from the primary narrative to spend some time on what we might call Yamato concepts of science, especially how they thought about the structure of reality organization of time and the universe – their cosmology, as it were. After all, to better understand the reasoning and motives of people, it is helpful to try and understand how they saw the world, not just for translation—understanding what it means when an entry says something like the “Hour of the Horse” on an “Elder Wood” day—but also for understanding how things actually worked in their eyes. For instance, the idea of ”auspicious” and “inauspicious” times and directions is something that most listeners probably don't incorporate much into their daily lives, but the Chroniclers and the people of Yamato absolutely did, so understanding concepts like this can sometimes be the key to unlocking why historical people may have taken the actions that they did. In particular, we'll talk about things like yin and yang, five elements, ten stems and twelve earthly branches, and what all this meant for the Yamato ideas of organizing time and space. A large part of Yamato cosmology is tied to something called Onmyoudou, literally the Way of Yin and Yang, which in the organization of the Ritsuryo state fell under a particular ministry, known as the Onmyo-ryo. If you've heard of Onmyoudou before, you likely have heard about the “Onmyouji”, practitioners who studied the flow of yin and yang—and who could reportedly do miraculous things with that. A 10th century Onmyoji, the famous Abe no Seimei, is perhaps the most well-known, with numerous stories about his exploits, which were then turned into a fantastical series of stories by the award-winning author, Baku Yumemakura. Those were then turned into Manga, movies, and more. Abe no Seimei is like Japan's Merlin, or Gandalf, at least in the stories. Back to the organization we mentioned, the Onmyou-ryou was responsible for Yin-Yang theory, or Onmyou-dou, which included divination, as well as astronomy, or Tenmon-dou, and calendar making, or reki-dou. While some of this was based on straight up natural observances, a lot of it was explained through older concepts of Yin and Yang theory. Today, you might encounter a lot of this in the theories around Feng Shui, and this can also be referred to as “geomancy”, or earth divination. To give a broad overview of Onbmyoudou and its origins, it is part of a large corpus of concepts focused around a concept of energy known as qi or ki—which forms the basis for a lot of Chinese and Japanese cosmology, or their concept of how the world worked. Much of this is tied up in concepts that are modernly broadly called “Daoist” or associated with so-called Daoist practices. That term can be a bit misleading, as strictly speaking, Daoism refers to the teachings of the legendary philosopher Laozi, in his book, the Dao De Jing, as well as works attributed to later authors, like the Zhuangzi. There is some controversy as to when and to what extent this strict Daoism came to Japan. However, in the broader sense, the category of “Daoist “ practices includes an entire panoply of various folk practices, including concepts of Yin and Yang – and in the archipelago, many of these concepts were imported with the various books that people had acquired on the mainland, even if they weren't strictly tied to Daoist religious practice. For example, there were aspects that were borrowed by various Shinto shrines, and others formalized into ritual practices under the new government. And of course many of these became linked to various Buddhist teachings and practices, as well. But what did this actually look like in concept and practice for practitioners of Onmyoudo in Japan? Let's start with the idea of yin and yang. One of the earliest references comes from the Zhou Yi, the Zhou Book of Changes, the core of what we also know as the Yijing, the Book of Changes. Here we see the idea that the universe began with a single force that split into two, and those two forces make up all of creation in one way or another. Yin and Yang, or In and You—or even Onmyou—refer to these forces, which are characterized as shadow and light, moon and sun, female and male, cold and hot, etc. So these forces are opposites, but it should be noted that they are not necessarily good or evil. After all, too cold is just as bad as too hot. Likewise too much darkness is as blinding as too much light. As most people have seen, yin and yang are often depicted as a circle divided into two comma shapes, with a smaller circle in each. One side is white with a black circle and the other is black with a white circle. This is the “Tai Chi” diagram, but the diagram itself doesn't seem to have been depicted like this prior to the 11th century, at least that we are aware. But the concepts are much older. Now if you've heard of the Yijing, where it came from is something of a mystery. One theory is that it started as a written account of folk wisdom, and may have even given instructions for things like when to plant and when to harvest, based on changes in various heavenly phenomena. But overall it is organized into 64 chapters, each associated with a particular hexagram. Start with a line, that can either be a full line – representing yang – or a broken line representing yin. Stack three of these on top of one another and you get a trigram. If you chart out every single possible combination of yin and yang lines, you get 8 unique trigrams, sometimes referred to as the baqua. Stack two trigrams atop one another and you get a hexagram, a combination of 6 lines that can have 8 by 8 or 64 unique variants. It's theorized that the Yijing resulted from taking all of the collected sayings or aphorisms and bits of advice and cataloguing and dividing them into 64 chapters, each one associated with a given hexagram. Going further, each line of the hexagram is associated with particular line in Yijing, and various meanings are ascribed to it and its association. It's a complex and fascinating system and I don't have time to go into it fully, but I would note that this was used as a form of divination—yarrow stalks or other means of random lot drawing that gives you a binary outcome – zero or one, yin or yang – could be used to determine the six lines of any given hexagram. This, in turn, would reference a chapter in the Yijing which was then interpreted as a sign as to how to read a given situation that you might find yourself in. What's really important to understanding the worldview of the time is this idea, represented by the hexagrams in the Yijing, that you can encompass everything about the universe by making and cataloging different amounts and arrangements of yin and yang. It's a science, as it were – a systematic approach to understanding the differences in the world by breaking it into component parts. And if this seems preposterous, consider this: today we understand that all things are made up of tiny atoms. And these atoms are all made up of the same material—protons, neutrons, and electrons. And yet, how those atomic particles combine create atoms with wildly different qualities. And how those atoms then combine into molecules and so on and so forth describe how we explain everything around us. So is it really so far-fetched? I'm not saying that we should suddenly start to figure out the measurements of yin and yang in everything, but if we want to understand how the people of the time saw their world, it may be helpful to hold an open mindand understand the assumptions that they were working from and where they came from. As human beings, we naturally look for connections in the world around us, and this was no exception. People would observe facts, know how that it worked, and often then would back into the reason for it. This is a tale told across cultures, and we still see it, today. At the same time, we've developed structured approaches to test out our theories, empirically. So for the moment, let's leave the trigrams and hexagrams, and talk about another idea that also gained traction as people were trying to figure out how the world worked. This was the five elements theory also known as Wuxing, or Gogyou, in Japanese. The five elements in this case are Fire, Water, Wood, Metal, and Earth. Some may notice that these, along with the sun and the moon, are used in Japanese for the days of the week: Nichi (sun), getsu (moon), ka (fire), sui (water), moku (wood), kin (metal), do (earth). Buddhists, by the way, also had an elemental system with only four elements, Fire, Water, Air, and Earth, possibly connected with some Greek influence, and brought along with Buddhist practice. For now, however, let's focus on the five elements. The idea in wuxing is similar to that of yin and yang in that everything in creation is made up of these five elements in some degree and configuration. Furthermore, there are creation and destruction cycles. So fire creates ash, or earth. Earth gives birth to metal. Metal creates water—look at a cold piece of metal in a warm environment and see how the water droplets form on it, and imagine what that looks like without understanding humidity and how there could be water vapor in the air. And then water creates wood, or plants—any farmer could tell you that without water the plants die. And wood is where we get fire from. Of course, the reverse cycle is the opposite. Fire eats the wood. Wood drinks up the water. Water rusts metal. Metal tools plough the earth. And Earth can be used to douse fire. Finally, there is another cycle of weakening. ,. Because fire heats and weakens metal, metal chops down wood, the trees roots break up rocks, the earth soaks up water, and water likewise puts out or weakens fire. So the theory went, if these elements make up all matter, these relationships continue on a more complex scale in everything. So if something was thought to contain a lot of “fire” element, then it would be potentially helpful if you needed “Earth” but destructive or at least weakening to metal and wood. Properly accounting for these elements was important to achieve the results you were looking for, whatever that may be. These were the kinds of things that were incorporated into traditional medicine practices, but also applied to auguries or divination about things like where and how to build a building. Even today, Shrines will sell calendars that help people know the prominence of certain elements, and some folk remedies may look to balance elements, much as medieval European medicine was often designed to balance the four humors that ancient physicians believed were present in the human body. The chart of these five elements and their relationships is something you may have seen. It is a five pointed star, often inside of a circle. Of course this is also similar to a western pentagram, though typically drawn with the point of the star up, but it has nothing to do with Christian values or Satan, or anything similar. Rather, it is just a way to represent these five elements, and you'll see it frequently in reference to Onmyoudou. The elements were used to categorize many different areas into groupings of five. This includes grouping the various directions into five directions. Of course, you may be wondering about that, since most societies usually mark four cardinal directions, and in this case, they did the same, but added the fifth as “center”. And so you get things like the north is water. It is related to cool, or cold weather. It is represented with the color black. To the south, opposite of the north, is fire. It is hot, and the color is red. Of course, this probably doesn't take a huge leap to see the connections they drew: since these civilizations are in the northern hemisphere, the farther north you go, the colder it gets, and the farther south you travel, the warmer it gets, generally speaking, at least until you reach the equator. Meanwhile, the west was related to metal, and the color white, while the east was related to woods and forests, and the color…. Blue. Alright, that last one, in particular, probably doesn't make sense to a lot of us. After all, we likely associate blue with water, and wood, or trees, would be associated with brown or, possibly, green. Well, in this case, it goes beyond that. The north is water, but it is also associated with darkness—shorter days in the winter, and things like that Sothe association of north with black makes sense, but many also look at the ocean and don't necessarily see it as “blue”, or dark or even black, like Homer's famous “wine-dark sea”. Furthermore, although they have a word for it (midori), “green” was not a primary color in Japan, instead considered more of a shade of “aoi”, or blue. Even today they refer to a “green” traffic light as an “aoi shingo, not “midori” shingo. So if you asked someone in the Asuka period to describe the wooded hills and fields, they would have likely used “aoi”. And of course, we are missing the fifth element. In the center we have the element earth and the color yellow. A lot of these different concepts were brought together during the Han period, when they were trying to syncretize all of the various philosophies and attempts to describe the world and bring them all together into a single system. This meant that the Yijing, the wuxing theory, and others were mixed together with various other philosophies and theories of how the world work. Things like the Shanhaijing, the Classic of Mountain and Seas, along with stories about immortals, the Queen Mother of the West, and more were all rolled together, and basically assumed to be true. This included various real-world observations. Therefore, there were many attempts to try and reconcile these various theories together. One of the other concepts, which we've discussed before, was the system of ten heavenly stems and the twelve earthly branches. We've mentioned this before regarding the sexagenary style of counting the years, but we'll recap here. The ten heavenly stems and the twelve earthly branches are concepts that go back to at least the legendary Shang period, and even show up in various bronzes Andit wasn't until later that they would be associated with other ideas. The ten heavenly stems were each associated with one of the five elements, with each element being represented by a greater and lesser, or elder and younger, stem. And then each of the twelve earthly branches were associated with animals—what we often call the Chinese Zodiac. We talked about how this applied to the calendar, in that it was used to track years in 60 year cycles, but also it was used to track days of the year. The twelve earthly branches were also used for earthly directions. The first, the rat, was in the north, and the order continued clockwise to the east, the south, west and then back to the north. Now this means that the four cardinal directions—north, south, east, and west—all match up nicely with one of the twelve earthly branches, but as for northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest? Those were all combinations of two branches. So, for instance, the northeast was a combination of the ox and the tiger, or ushi-tora. Speaking of eight directions, where have we also heard the number eight come up recently? That's right: the eight trigrams, or bagua. So each one of those trigrams, each representing a different concept, got associated with a direction as well. This makes it easier to see where practices of geomancy came from. You had a system with complex, overlapping associations between concepts and the physical world, and in the Tang dynasty, they used all of this to understand not only how things had happened, but also how the world would be in the future—in other words, they tried to use it to make predictions. Hence the “mancy”. In the Yamato state, all of this became an official part of the government under the Onmyoryou: a branch of the government whose job is to make observations and figure things out from there, for the good of the state and the people. They made observations of the heavens to figure out how the calendar should be aligned—which months should come at what time, and when there should be “leap months”, or intercalary months, to keep various astronomical phenomena in the correct seasons, which were also further divided up into 24 periods. They also kept track of the movement of bodies like the various planets, because those planets were also assigned values, and thought to affect the flow of energy within this framework. And so comets, storms, eclipses, and more were all important because of the theory that everything in the heavens impacted and were reflections of how things were happening on the earth. Similarly, these various discussions of white animals and other omens were likely captured and catalogued by these officials as well, attempting to figure out what they meant. All of this also influenced things like how palaces, buildings, and even capitals, would be built and laid out. For the palace, it was important the the sovereign be in the north, looking south. In fact, many maps would have south at the top because that is how a sovereign would be viewing it, were it stretched out before them. And one would need to consider various features, including mountains and streams, as all of those things carried various meanings, but it wasn't as simple as just finding the one thing that could affect a person. As they observed differences they would also have to catalogue what happened and try to determine what the cause could be, based on their understanding of the world. And in the archipelago this would also include an understanding of Buddhist and local kami-based wisdom and knowledge as well. One of the things in the Chronicles that inspired this episode was something I actually mentioned last time, a record from 666 talking about Chiyu, a Buddhist priest of the Yamato no Aya family, who presented a south-pointing chariot to the sovereign, Naka no Oe. this appears to be the same Chiyu from a similar record in 658, which also refers to him building a south pointing chariot. So did it take him eight years, or is he just now presenting it to the sovereign? And what, exactly, is a south-pointing chariot? Well, as the name implies, a south-pointing chariot is a two-wheeled chariot that always points south. More appropriately stated, it is a wheeled device with a figure on top, much like a weather vane, which always points south. This is usually described as the figure of a person or an official pointing in the appropriate direction. This was a mechanical, rather than a magnetic compass. As the chariot, or carriage, is wheeled around, the two wheels spin. The wheels themselves are independently connected to a series of gears. If the wheels spin at the same rate, then their movement cancels each other out. However, if one wheel turns more than the other, then it will cause the figure on the top to rotate. Of course, as the chariot turns to the right, the left wheel, traveling along the outer diameter, will travel farther than the right. This will cause the figure to turn counter-clockwise to the left, but from an outside observer's perspective, it will continue to point in the same direction, even as the chariot itself turns. Turning to the left would cause the opposite effect. Though it may have been used earlier, there appears to be reliable written evidence of a South Pointing chariot starting from the third century. The first one was based on much earlier stories of a similar device, but it is unclear if it was a chariot, some other device, or even just a legend that was told as historical fact. From the third century on the design appears to have been continuously improved upon. I should point out that all we have is descriptions—we don't have any actual south pointing chariots, let alone diagrams showing how the mechanisms worked. There is the possibility that it used a kind of differential gear to work automatically, but we don't have any actual evidence. There are other theories that it may have required some kind of manual switch, so that it would attach to one wheel or the other as needed. That would require that the chariot be moving in either a straight direction or turning in one particular direction, which seems rather unwieldy. I noted some of the problems with this, and even moreso in a place like Japan, where 70% of the terrain is mountains. Up and down hills, along paths that are likely anything but the smooth, paved surface we have for roads today—and even those have plenty of irregularities and potholes that could throw off any such device. And if you want to use it for any real distance, then you have to factor in other things, including the curvature of the earth. After all, with the earth being a sphere, any chariot traveling due west to east or east to west, other than at the equator, would have one wheel traveling farther than the other one. Granted, at the scale we are talking about, it probably is all but negligible, and the rough terrain and simple slippage of what were most likely wooden gears probably entered a lot more variability than the earth's curvature. One of the other issues is that the chariot only points “south” if you set it up to do so. And if you know that, well, why do you need a south-pointing chariot? Ultimately, it seems that this is more of a novelty item, good for impressing crowds and demonstrating some engineering principles, rather than an actual, useful invention. After all, it was forgotten about and recreated multiple times, often centuries apart. Had it been a truly useful invention, it probably would have been kept in constant use. Meanwhile, I suspect that there were a fair number of farmers and others who knew that you could more easily and reliably use the sun and stars, as long as the weather was clear. There is also some evidence of an understanding of magnetic compasses since at least the 2nd Century BCE. Early Han sources suggest that a spoon made of naturally magnetized ore could be placed on top of a polished bronze surface, and it would align itself north to south. We don't have any actual surviving examples, however—there are later versions that you can find, where the plate is divided up into various directions, and then a magnetized “spoon” is placed on top, but nothing has actually come from Han tombs. Furthermore, this seems to mostly be for geomantic purposes. A more practical compass, with a magnetized needle, seems to have been developed by the 11th century, which could then be used for actual navigation. By the way, the “spoon” as a compass pointer may be in reference to the “Big Dipper” constellation, which was envisioned as a spoon, or ladle, in shape. The seven stars were often used in geomancy, likely because of their importance, at least in the northern hemisphere, of pointing to the north. So there's some thought that the “needles” of these early compasses weren't litterally spoon shaped, but symbolically representive of the Big Dipper or the Northern Ladle. Quick astronomy lesson, here. If you are in the northern hemisphere, particularly from the 35th parallel to the north pole, you can see the seven stars that make up the constellation or asterism we know as the Big Dipper. In English we sometimes also refer to this as Ursa Major, though technically the familiar seven stars are just a part of that larger constellation. In Japan, the same constellation is often referred to as Hokuto Shichisei, the Seven Stars of the Northern Ladle. It can be seen further south, but parts of it may dip below the horizon during the autumn season. It is important for several reasons. One is that it is made up of particularly bright stars, which you can generally see even when other stars may not be visible. Second, its distinctive shape lends itself to being easy to find in the sky. And finally, if you draw a line between two of the stars at the end of the “cup” of the ladle, you can follow that line to find Polaris or hokkyokusei, the north star, which means you know which direction is north- and once you know that, you can use it to figure out any other direction. And Polaris is less than a degree off of true north, making it even more accurate than most magnets, as the magnetic pole can be quite different, depending on its current position, and magnetic north changes over time as the magnetic field around the earth fluctuates. That said, this was not necessarily the case in ancient times. Four thousand years ago, the star closest to true north would have been the star Thuban, in the constellation Draco, a star that most of us probably haven't heard of. Polaris, in the constellation Ursa Minor (the Little Bear, also known as the Little Dipper) apparently took over as the north star around 500 CE. However, even before then, the mouth of the dipper could still be used to indicate north. In fact, if you draw a line between two of the stars in the back of the constellation, then you also end up finding Thuban. So even if the north star itself wasn't accurate, finding the dipper would still help you orient yourself, especially if you can find true north during the day and then compare that with the constellation at night. Which helps to understand why astronomy, or Tenmondou, was so important in the Onmyouryou. Though it wasn't just a study of stars, but of the way of the heavens in general. And the changes in the heavens, brings us to another important concept—the flow of energy across the seasons. From the bright days of summer, filled with sunshine and yang energy, to the dark yin energy of winter's long, cold nights. It wasn't enough to just know what happened, and where, but when was also important. Obviously you need to know when to sow seeds, flood the fields, and harvest the rice. Beyond that, though, you have other concepts, such as how the the day and hour of an event could be symbolically important. And of course, all of these had their own associations with various concepts of the flow of yin and yang energy. Now knowing the year, the month, and even the day is largely just a matter of counting. But let's talk about something a little more tricky: How do you know the hour? This brings us to the vignette at the top of the episode, about the clepsydra, or water clock, that Naka no Oe is said to have built. Now we talked about some of the fountains and similar things that have been discovered in the Asuka region back in episode 118. One thing that they believe they also found evidence of is something called a water clock, which is, as its name suggests, a clock powered by water. It is typically depicted as a series of three or more boxes or reservoirs that each hold an amount of water. Water is placed in the top reservoir, and then a hole towards the bottom is unplugged and it is allowed to drain into the box beneath. The hole is of a particular size, and thus the water flows at a constant rate, filling up the container below, which has a similar hole, etc. all the way to a reservoir at the very bottom. The multiple boxes mean that the water level in the intermediate boxes stays relatively constant, resulting in relatively consistent pressure and flow rate. The last reservoir has a measuring stick on a float, so that as the last box is filled with water, the measuring stick raises up. Since it is rising at a constant rate, one can use that to tell how much time has passed, regardless of anything else. Thus you can keep time even at night. There is a record of Naka no Oe making one in the fifth month of 660, and he would have another one built in 671, which we will discuss later. It is interesting that both of these inventions appear twice in the narrative—once during the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenchi Tenno, and once during the previous reign, that of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tenno. In this case it is said that 671 is the first time that the water clock, or roukoku, was actually used. From what I can tell, there is nothing that definitively indicates that the Mizuochi site in Asuka was definitely the site of Naka no Oe's water clock. There isn't much in the Chronicles telling us what it was like or where, exactly, it was built, and there wasn't anything found at the site naming it as the location of the roukoku. However, the site is in a prominent enough place, with channels for water and a pavilion of some sort. They definitely found evidence of pipes, remnants of lacquered wood, and reservoirs for water, among other things, that suggest something to do with moving water happened in this area. So it seems a very strong choice, as it all fits with theoretical archeological reconstructions. A water clock like this is excellent for keeping accurate time at all hours of the day. However, it does have a slight problem in that anyone without a clock is still going to have to use the sun and similar heavenly cues to know what time it is. So how do you let them know? Well, it turns out that the continent had an answer for that as well, and instituted various systems of drums and bells to let people know the hour. In fact, some of these practices continued, in one form or another, right up to the modern day—with or without a water clock. After all, the key was to give the community some sense of the passing of time, but I doubt anyone was using it to time things more precisely than a general idea of an hour—though they did have the concept of their own minutes and seconds. Which brings us to just how they saw time back then. The system of time that the Chronicles seems to use also came over from the continent, where there appear to have been several different methods for telling time prior to accurate clocks. And while there was an idea of dividing the entire day into twelve segments, the time as it was announced was not always consistent with those twelve segments, or hours. Rather, time was based around the key parts of the day. So, for instance there was sunrise, noon, sunset, and midnight. And while noon and midnight remain exactly twelve hours apart, sunrise and sunset change with the seasons. So if you call out sunrise, and then divide the time between sunrise and noon into equal segments of time, the size of those time segments change with the seasons. On top of that, because of the tilt of the earth and our slightly irregular orbit around the sun, the sun appears to “move” across the sky faster or slower throughout the year, with a difference of about 30 minutes total between the extremes. This isn't going to affect most people's daily lives, but would have been noticeable to those taking accurate measurements. In ancient Han, this appears to have been common in cities and towns, with a watch that would call out as they progressed on their rounds at set points in the day and night, relying largely on heavenly cues—which I suspect did not lead to the most accurate timekeeping, but it was sufficient for what most people needed. The telling of time in this manner was partly to help with keeping track of the time of day, but was just as much an announcement that the watch was on duty and a warning to would-be criminals. Now a water clock was an excellent device for keeping track of a standard, absolute time, such as it were, but it required constant maintenance. If you already have a watch calling out the time, perhaps they can also keep the water clock properly set, but you did have to have someone constantly filling it up and draining it at known points of the day. Plus there was the problem that you only knew the time if you could check it, and this wasn't like a clock tower or something similar. And so in 671 it appears that Nak no Oe instituted the continental idea of drums and bells to announce the time to the people—or at least to those at the court. We don't have a record of exactly how they were, used, but we can infer from other sources on the continent, and what we do know that some tradition of announcing the time with drums and bells continued to be employed in Japan until the Meiji era, though perhaps not without interruption: Temples and the like had bell or drum towers, and as the day progressed they would beat out the time. It was not, however, telling time as we might think of it, with one stroke at the first hour, two on the second, etc.. In fact, in many ways they counted backwards, and they only counted 12 hours, not our modern 24. By the Edo period it seems that it was common practice to toll the bells nine times at noon and at midnight. From there, they would count down, with 8 bells at roughly 2 o'clock, 7 bells at 4 o'clock, and 6 bells at 6 o'clock. That would be another issue. From 6 o'clock, the number of bells that would be tolled continued to decrease, so that at 8 o'clock it would be 5 bells, then 4 bells at 10 o'clock. It would then jump back up to 9 and start over again. Why these numbers were used for the different hours we are not entirely sure, and I have no idea if these numbers were the same ones used back in the 7th century—though it does seem to match similar continental traditions. Even the hours themselves were known by the twelve signs that came to be associated with the zodiac: the hour of the rat, the hour of the ox, the hour of the tiger, etc. Midnight fell in the middle of the hour of the rat, and noon fell in the middle of the hour of the horse, with each hour being almost exactly 2 hours by modern reckoning. There were other systems in use as well. One divided the entire day up by 100 and then each of those divisions by another 10. The key was whether or not it was an absolute or relative measurement. Something like the roukoku would indicate an absolute measurement. After all, the fall of water from one reservoir to another was not affected by the change in seasons—at least as long as the water didn't freeze. The flow was constant, as was the measurement of time. For those using other forms of reckoning, such as celestial phenomena or even a sundial, things might be a bit less accurate. This was especially true when using concepts like “sunrise” and “sunset”. Still, through observing the changes over the year, people eventually figured out charts and rules to help reconcile absolute forms of measurement with solar time. There were other methods for telling time, as well. Perhaps one of the more pleasant was the use of incense sticks. By the time of the Tang dynasty, incense in stick form was relatively common, and it had been noticed that sticks of incense could burn at a fixed rate. This meant that you could use incense sticks like candles were used in Europe, counting down how far they had burned to tell what time it was. If you were really fancy, you could make a single stick out of different types of incense, so that as it hit a new hour, the scent would change, alerting you to the time through your olfactory senses. Speaking of time, we are coming to the end of ours for this episode. We do have some more information on this on our website, Sengokudaimyo.com, and we'll have links to those sections of the website accompanying our blog. Next episode we will focus more on the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, from his seat at Otsu no Miya. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
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72 minuter tros det ta innan världen som vi känner den går under vid ett totalt kärnvapenkrig. Dan Jönsson reser till Hiroshima och ser hur ingenting tycks ha hänt och allt förändrats. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. ESSÄ: Detta är en text där skribenten reflekterar över ett ämne eller ett verk. Åsikter som uttrycks är skribentens egna.AtomvårSom ett förfärligt fossil från något av framtidens naturhistoriska museer ligger den där och ruvar i all sin nakenhet: den suddiga konturen, skuggan av en mänsklig kropp. Fortfarande tydligt urskiljbar efter så många år tecknar den sin svartnade silhuett i det slitna brottstycket av den stentrappa som fram till den 6 augusti 1945 utgjorde entrén till bankkontoret i Hiroshima. På morgonen den dagen, som verkade bli varm och solig, hade någon slagit sig ner på trappan i väntan på att banken skulle öppna; någon, som när atombomben briserade klockan kvart över åtta i likhet med tiotusentals andra invånare i denna storstad helt enkelt försvann, förintades i den extrema hettan. Men skuggan blev kvar. Framtida civilisationer till varnagel och besinning.Nu ingår stenen med skuggan bland artefakterna på Fredsmuseet i Hiroshima, bland föremål som smälta klockor, sönderbrända skor, väggbitar med spåren av det svarta, radioaktiva regn som följde senare på dagen – ett museum som i sin krampaktiga saklighet kramar hjärtat ur besökaren. Plötsligt förstår jag precis vad han menar, den japanske mannen i Alain Resnais film ”Hiroshima, mon amour”, när han gång på gång förnekar att hans tillfälliga franska älskarinna skulle kunna förstå något: ”Tu n'as rien vu a Hiroshima.” Du såg ingenting i Hiroshima. Ute i parken blommar körsbärsträden; vid utgången skriver jag en rad i museets gästbok och hajar till vid något som någon har präntat dit ett litet stycke ovanför. ”If only they had surrendered earlier…” läser jag på engelska. Om de bara gett upp tidigare.Föreställningen att atombomberna över Hiroshima och Nagasaki var moraliskt försvarbara eftersom de gjorde slut på kriget och tvingade fram den japanska kapitulationen några veckor senare, hör till den västerländska historieskrivningens mest långlivade myter. Men sann, det är den inte. Bomben bör kallas för vad den var, en förbrytelse; vill man förklara den bör man förstå den som en maktdemonstration inte bara mot Japan utan kanske främst mot Sovjetunionen, vars röda armé i krigets slutskede avancerade mot de japanska öarna. Men förödelsen i Hiroshima ska också ses som det logiska slutsteget i en process som påbörjats nästan femtio år tidigare, en vetenskaplig omvälvning som redan i grunden hade skakat bilden av vår värld och vår plats i den. Människan hade dyrkat upp naturens lås, sprängt den gamla världsbilden i småbitar. Det återstod att demonstrera.Fram till dess hade naturvetenskapen varit överens om att materiens minsta beståndsdelar utgjordes av ett slags rörliga partiklar, atomer. Ordet atom användes första gången av den grekiske naturfilosofen Leukippos på 400-talet före vår tideräkning och betyder odelbar – när den moderna atomläran formulerades i början av 1800-talet var det alltså ett sätt att hävda just att vetenskapen i dessa elementarpartiklar hade identifierat en materiens orubbliga grund, en fast punkt. Den rubbades 1897, när fysikern Joseph John Thomson lyckades visa att atomen förutom sin positiva kärna också består av en mindre, negativ partikel, elektronen. Året innan hade Henri Becquerel upptäckt det som Marie Curie några år senare skulle ge namnet radioaktiv strålning, och decennierna som följde kom genombrotten slag i slag: makarna Curies utforskande av radioaktiviteten, Ernest Rutherfords kartläggning av atomens inre struktur och hans modell – som sedan utvecklades och förfinades av den danske fysikern Niels Bohr – av hur elektronerna kretsar runt kärnan som i ett litet solsystem.Människan öppnade dörren till atomåldern, och världen var förändrad. ”Upplösningen av atomen,” skrev den ryske konstnären Vassily Kandinsky 1913, ”var för min själ detsamma som upplösningen av världen. De tjockaste murar störtade med ens samman. Allt blev osäkert, instabilt, mjukt.” Det var ungefär samtidigt som Kandinsky gjorde sina första helt abstrakta bilder – och känslan av en värld i upplösning var han knappast ensam om. Kubister, futurister, rayonnister: alla försökte de på olika sätt spegla denna söndersprängda verklighet. ”Jag är en atom i universum,” skrev Hilma af Klint om sina målningar i serien ”Atom”, och i Paris uppförde dansösen Loïe Fuller sin experimentella ”Radiumdans” med fosforescerande kostymer och – enligt uppgift – Marie och Pierre Curie som förundrade åskådare.Men fascinationen för det nya och oerhörda bar redan från början på ett mörkt stråk. 1909 publicerade H G Wells sin autofiktiva roman ”Tono-Bungay” där kvacksalvaren George Ponderevo upptäcker det radioaktiva materialet ”quap”, ett ämne med en outsinlig inre energi som också med tiden drabbar dem som kommer i kontakt med det med en dödlig, lepraaktig sjukdom. Detta kärnfysikens janusansikte var alltså tidigt uppenbart för både forskare och konstnärer, liksom för den breda allmänheten. I USA inleddes mot slutet av 20-talet en rättsprocess när en grupp kvinnliga arbetare i en urfabrik, ”the radium girls”, stämde staten efter att många av dem drabbats av cancer på grund av exponering för fluorescerande radiumfärg. Bävande anade man i den nya fysiken samtidigt lösningen på många av mänsklighetens problem – och fröet till dess slutgiltiga undergång.Men någon väg tillbaka fanns inte. Modernitetens bild av den tekniska utvecklingen som ett framåtskridande till varje pris laddade atomteorin med en ödesmättad förening av utopiska löften och dödliga hot. Dadaisten Hugo Ball förkunnade hur ”elektronteorin orsakat en märklig vibration i alla ytor, linjer och former”, hur ”dimensionerna krökte sig och gränser föll”. Men det slutliga genombrottet kom först 1938 när en grupp tyska fysiker gjorde upptäckten att en urankärna kunde klyvas när den besköts med neutroner. Och hur det då frigjordes extrema mängder energi.Det återstod nu sju år till Hiroshima. Om vetenskapen fram till dess stått på tröskeln till atomåldern togs nu de sista stegen in i den – och som så ofta var det vapenindustrin som gick i bräschen. Redan i januari 1939 tog USA:s president Roosevelt emot en rapport som visade hur man med en nukleär kedjereaktion skulle kunna producera en förödande bomb; samma teknik kunde också användas för att producera fredlig elektricitet, men med det krig som snart bröt ut kom andra prioriteringar. Från nyåret 1943 sysselsatte det så kallade Manhattanprojektet mer än hundratusen personer runt om i USA och efter två och ett halvt år, i juli 1945, gjordes den första provsprängningen. Bara tre veckor kvar: vid tvåtiden på morgonen den 6 augusti lyfte bombplanet Enola Gay från sin bas på ön Tinian i Marianerna. Vid spakarna satt piloten Paul Tibbets och i lastutrymmet fanns en fyra ton tung bomb som kärleksfullt fått namnet Little Boy. Knappt sju timmar senare nådde den sitt mål. Framtidens portar hade sprängts. Och ljuset flödade. AtomsommarDet sägs att det första som sker när en atombomb exploderar är att allt blir vitt. Berättelserna från dem som överlevde och kan berätta är fyllda av en vantrogen bävan, en övertygelse om att ha varit med om något som är omöjligt att beskriva. Ändå måste man försöka. Hisashi Tohara var arton år och satt just på ett tåg i väntan på att det skulle lämna perrongen. Dagen var en måndag, skriver han. Höstterminen hade precis börjat. Eleverna i hans gymnasieklass var mobiliserade vid ett stålverk, men den här dagen hade strömmen slagits ut och arbetarna fått ledigt. Pendeltåget in till centrum skulle alldeles strax gå när plötsligt allt flammade upp i ett bländande ljus – ögonblicket efter var det som om jorden skakade i sina grundvalar och hans nacke blixtrade till av en ohygglig smärta.Hisashi Tohara ägnar nästan en sida åt att försöka ge en föreställning om detta oerhörda ljus. Det var, förklarar han, ett ljus som aldrig slutade att strömma ut: ”oräkneliga partiklar av ljus” – ”bländande, gyllene med röda reflexer” – ”mikroskopiska, finare än ett damm av ljus” – ”en stormflod av ljus som översvämmade världen” – ”himmel och jord flöt i ett rött, gult, gyllene skimmer där man urskilde myriader av partiklar, än mer strålande. Under två eller tre sekunder kanske? Men det tycks mig” – minns han – ”som det varade betydligt längre. Och ändå inte mer än ett ögonblick.”Ögonvittnesskildringarna från Hiroshima har alla det gemensamt att de står mer eller mindre vanmäktiga inför den intensiva intighet som bomben utlöser. Hisashi Toharas minnesbilder är nedtecknade ett år efter bomben, därefter skrev han aldrig något mer. Enligt hans hustru var det heller ingenting han någonsin talade om; först efter hans död 2011 hittade hon berättelsen i en byrålåda. Som hos så många andra som överlevt liknande katastrofer genomsyras den inte bara av försöken att ge konkret gestalt åt det obeskrivliga, utan också av en dov, irrationell skam över att vara den som skonades. De sargade, sönderbrända, fastklämda, drunknande offer som kantar flyktvägen ut ur den förstörda staden hemsöker hans minnen som en kör av tysta, anklagande spöken.Samma dunkla upplevelse av hur skulden på något obevekligt vis faller på de oskyldiga offrens axlar går också som en sugande underström genom den främsta litterära skildringen av katastrofen i Hiroshima: Masuji Ibuses dokumentära kollektivroman ”Kuroi ame” – Svart regn. Ibuse var redan före kriget en av Japans mest uppburna författare, och ”Svart regn” blev bland det sista han skrev. Boken utgavs först 1969 och bygger på ett stort antal vittnesmål som fogats samman till en lågmäld, kollektiv berättelse. Titeln, ”Svart regn”, syftar på det våldsamma skyfall som bröt ut några timmar efter explosionen och som många av de brännskadade offren hälsade med jubel – utan att veta, förstås, att vattnet var radioaktivt och att de som drack det gick en säker död till mötes.Detta historiska markperspektiv är det fina med Ibuses roman. Ingen vet ju riktigt vad som hänt. Men att det är något exceptionellt blir uppenbart redan under de första veckor efter bomben när berättelsen utspelar sig. Ogräsen skjuter fart och blir monsterhöga, mystiska utslag visar sig på de överlevandes kroppar och leder snabbt till döden. Inga förklaringar ges, allt framstår som en obarmhärtig prövning. Frågan är, å andra sidan, om någon alls skulle bli lugnad av att veta vad sådana fenomen beror på, vad som faktiskt sker i en kropp som smittas av akut strålsjuka. Hur vävnaderna i de inre organen faller sönder, hur blodkärlens väggar drabbas av nekros, hur blodet slutar producera antikroppar och immunförsvaret upphör att fungera. Hur vatten tränger ut under huden där det bildar stora blåsor som brister, hur syrebristen i blodet orsakar så kallad cyanos, ett slags lilafärgade utslag som spricker upp och blöder. Hur bakterier från inälvorna tar sig ut och infekterar blodet och leder till akut sepsis.Som sagt, jag vet inte om det gör katastrofen mer begriplig. Men allt detta vet vi idag. Det är helt enkelt några av de nya kunskaper atomåldern fört med sig. Dessutom: med bomben föddes insikter som också utlöste en helt ny etisk diskussion. Den tyske filosofen Günther Anders, som besökte Hiroshima och Nagasaki i slutet av femtiotalet, beskrev det som att det som drabbat dessa båda städer var den första konkreta erfarenheten av hur kärntekniken och dess konsekvenser från och med nu förenar hela mänskligheten i en kuslig ödesgemenskap. Historiefilosofiskt, skriver han, är dessa vapensystem inte längre ett medium utan själva scenen där historien utspelar sig.Efter hemkomsten från Japan tar Anders kontakt med Hiroshimapiloten Claude Eatherly, som vid den här tiden sitter intagen på ett mentalsjukhus för sina samvetsbetänkligheter. Deras korrespondens, som sträcker sig över nästan två år, utkommer så småningom under titeln ”Samvete förbjudet” – och i ett av dessa publicerade brev minns Eatherly hur han på morgonen den 6 augusti slås av den förfärande insikten om vad som är på väg att ske. Han sitter själv inte i bombplanet, utan flyger i förväg för att rekognoscera målet: en järnvägsbro i utkanten av staden. Han ser den tydligt genom de lätta cumulusmolnen. I samma ögonblick som han ger klartecken glider molnen bort, bomben riktas fel och han inser att den nu kommer att träffa stadens centrum.Claude Eatherly kommer så länge han lever aldrig att bli fri från det han varit med om. Samma sak gäller förstås de tusentals överlevande, på japanska hibakusha, som likt offren för de nazistiska förintelselägren bär sitt ofattbara trauma i tysthet mitt i en till synes likgiltig omvärld. Vad är det för mening att berätta? Hur beskriver man det obeskrivliga? Hur förklara skuldkänslorna hos den som överlevt? ”Du såg ingenting i Hiroshima”, som det heter i Marguerite Duras manuskript till Alain Resnais ”Hiroshima, min älskade”. Nej – men på stadens Fredsmuseum finns några konkreta kvarlevor: en bit vägg med långa strimmor av det svarta, radioaktiva regnet, trappstenen med skuggan efter någon som satt och väntade på att banken skulle öppna. Men också mängder med teckningar, utförda av hibakusha under åren efter bomben; bilder som började dyka upp i offentligheten på sjuttiotalet och sedan vuxit till en egen genre av vittnesmål. Enkla, expressiva försök att skildra förödelsen, paniken, massdöden. Mänskliga spöken med håret på ända, kläderna i trasor och skinnslamsor hängande från kroppen. Floden som svämmar över av lik. Vanmäktiga bilder av de första sekundernas intensiva ljus.Barnen som överlevde, skriver Hisashi Tohara, kom att kalla bomben för ”pikadon”: av orden för ”ljus” och ”dån”. Det ljuset, och det dånet, är det som lyser upp och genljuder genom decennierna som följer. Med skuggorna av hundratusen döda. Atomhöst”Din första tanke när du vaknar skall vara 'atom'.” Så inleder Günther Anders sina Atomålderns bud, publicerade i dagstidningen Frankfurter Allgemeine 1957. Den tyske filosofen och författaren hade då sedan ett decennium ägnat sig åt att försöka greppa den moraliska vidden av atombomberna mot Hiroshima och Nagasaki – och kommit till slutsatsen att bombens själva existens i grunden hade förändrat mänskligheten som kollektiv. Som han uttryckte det i sin brevväxling med den olycklige Hiroshimapiloten Claude Eatherly något år senare hade hotet om planetens totala förintelse fört oss alla samman i en ofrivillig ödesgemenskap av ”oskyldigt skyldiga”. Eatherly, med sina förtärande självförebråelser – som till slut drev honom så långt att han upprepade gånger begick våldsbrott och bankrån, bara för att bevisa sig skyldig till något, och slippa ifrån sin roll som krigshjälte – framstod för Anders som en förebild i denna universella olycksgemenskap. Ett offer för bomben, han också.Om någon tycker det här påminner om hur man idag tänker kring klimatförändringarna, ligger det mycket i det. Men detta första decennium efter bomben var det inte många i västvärlden som delade Anders tankar. När han och Eatherly brevväxlade satt piloten inspärrad på ett militärt mentalsjukhus med sina skuldkänslor. I femtiotalets USA fanns ingen plats för sådana som han. Det skulle så småningom förändras – men trots att bilderna och vittnesmålen från Hiroshima nått den amerikanska allmänheten redan 1946, i John Herseys berömda reportage, fick de väldigt liten effekt i offentligheten. Här dominerade den officiella historieskrivningen där det som skett i Hiroshima och Nagasaki var ett nödvändigt ont, närmast framtvingat för att äntligen få den japanska krigsmakten att kapitulera. Den berättelsen gäller till stor del än idag, trots att den faktiskt inte har mycket fog för sig. Som historikern Tsuyoshi Hasegawa kunde visa redan 2005 var Japans kapitulation bara en tidsfråga; det som fick USA att detonera bomberna var att Sovjetunionen efter Tysklands kapitulation fått händerna fria i Fjärran Östern. I en stormoffensiv hade Röda armén ockuperat Manchuriet och var på väg mot Japan över öarna i norr. Vad det handlade om för USA:s del var att inte Sovjet skulle hinna först.Atombombsåldern kom alltså att inledas i en stämning av förnekelse och förträngning. Medan efterkrigstidens optimistiska konsumtionssamhälle tog form började en vanvettig atomkapprustning. Från de första bomberna hade den amerikanska atombombsarsenalen vuxit till 170 stycken 1949, när Sovjetunionen gjorde sitt första kärnvapenprov, och åren som följde gick det slag i slag. 1952 testsprängde USA sin första termonukleära vätebomb, stark som tusen Hiroshimabomber, och redan i mitten av decenniet hade de båda kärnvapenmakterna bomber nog för att med marginal spränga hela den mänskliga civilisationen till grus. Detta samtidigt som politikerna drömde om en framtida teknokratisk utopi flödande av billig energi, där bilarna drevs av små kärnreaktorer. Skulle kriget ändå råka bryta ut fick skolbarnen lära sig att krypa ner under bänkarna, och speciella dräkter tillverkades för att skydda mot strålningen.Under tiden drogs ritningarna upp för den oundvikliga förintelsen. 2008 berättade den pensionerade amerikanske försvarstjänstemannen John Rubel hur han i december 1960 suttit med under ett hemligt möte där ett par höga officerare lade fram de detaljerade planerna för en så kallad förebyggande kärnvapenattack mot Sovjetunionen. Som Rubel mindes det skulle angreppet enligt ingenjörernas beräkningar leda till döden för cirka sexhundra miljoner människor. Rubel erkände att han själv i stunden saknat civilkurage för att protestera, och jämförde med den nazistiska Wannseekonferensen där planerna för den slutliga, industriella lösningen av judefrågan tog form. ”Jag kände,” skrev han, ”att det jag bevittnade var ett liknande nedstigande i mörkrets hjärta, en grumlig underjordisk värld som styrdes av ett disciplinerat, noggrant och livaktigt men hjärndött grupptänkande med syfte att utrota hälften av människorna som levde på nästan en tredjedel av jordytan.”I Japan däremot var de postnukleära stämningarna annorlunda – av naturliga skäl. Trots att det under hela femtiotalet rådde ett offentligt tabu mot att diskutera katastrofen och dess följder är det ingen överdrift att säga att hela den japanska konsten och litteraturen under efterkrigstiden utvecklades i skuggan av Hiroshima och Nagasaki. Bomberna och den amerikanska ockupationen sände chockvågor genom den japanska kulturen och födde experimentella konströrelser som den minimalistiska arte poveragruppen Mono-ha, eller den betydligt våldsammare Gutai, vars medlemmar besköt sina målardukar med kanon: bägge strömningar som i sin tur också gjorde djupa intryck på yngre konstnärer som Yoko Ono, Tetsumi Kudo och Yayoi Kusama. Nobelpristagaren Kenzaburo Oe gav 1965 ut sina Anteckningar från Hiroshima, en samling personliga reportage där de överlevande, som efter tjugo år fortfarande lever i skräck för blodcancer och andra efterverkningar, lyfts upp till en sorts nationella, moraliska förebilder: ”Bara genom liv som deras,” skriver Oe, ”kan människor framträda med värdighet i vårt samhälle.”Och med tiden växte protesterna i styrka även i västvärlden. Precis som man likt Theodor Adorno kunde se det som ”barbariskt” att skriva poesi efter Auschwitz kunde man som Günther Anders spekulera i vad det betydde att bedriva filosofi efter Hiroshima. Hans kollega Hannah Arendt delade synen på bomben som en mänsklighetens vändpunkt – men för henne stod den framför allt för en förlust av politiskt handlingsutrymme, där teknologins råa styrka tog förnuftets plats. Man frestas citera president Trumans tillkännagivande den 6 augusti 1945, där han proklamerar Hiroshimabomben som ”den organiserade vetenskapens största historiska bragd”. Som Arendt uttrycker det i Människans villkor har denna etiskt förblindade vetenskap trätt ut i offentligheten som en av ”de mäktigaste, maktgenererande grupperingar historien skådat.”Atomålderns etik måste med andra ord ta formen av en civilisationskritik. Mot slutet av sextiotalet uppgick antalet atombomber i världen till över 30 000 – men då var också motståndet i full kraft. Ett motstånd som inte bara riktades mot kärnvapenrustningen utan också mot den fredliga atomkraften och hela den teknokratiska kultur som gjort det möjligt att spela med så fruktansvärda insatser. Att en olycka vid ett kärnkraftverk kan få precis samma förödande effekter som en bomb har världen sedan dess tvingats till insikt om, gång på gång: i Harrisburg, Tjernobyl, Fukushima. Namnen hemsöker vår tid, som skuggan av en mardröm. Den där tanken som man nuddar när man vaknar. Och som sedan försvinner. AtomvinterEtt minne från när det kalla kriget var som kallast, början på åttiotalet: jag sitter hemma i soffan i föräldrahemmet och ser på teven där USA:s president Reagan flinande avslöjar att en kärnvapenattack mot Sovjetunionen kommer att starta om fem minuter. Ett skämt, tydligen. Mitt minne av händelsen är lite oklart: eftersom ”skämtet” gjordes inför en radiosändning borde ljudupptagningen ha spelats upp till stillbilder, jag vet inte – men det jag tydligt minns är hur det medan skratten klingar ut i teven ändå hinner gå ett frostigt spöke genom vardagsrummet. Hur mina föräldrar liksom fryser till i tevesoffan och hur vi sedan också skrattar, lättade – och lite chockade: det var nära ögat. Om det är något vi har förstått på sista tiden är det ju hur nära det faktiskt verkar vara. Atomklockan, som den kallas, har länge stått på bara någon minut i tolv.Världen, kanske särskilt Europa, gick i detta tidiga åttiotal nästan bara och väntade på den stora smällen. Om vi idag förskräcks av de klimatförändringar som utsläppen av växthusgaser är på väg att leda till så är de trots allt ingenting emot det som skulle bli följden om ett fullskaligt kärnvapenkrig bröt ut. Inte som en effekt av själva explosionerna – men allt stoft de rörde upp, alla bränder de orsakade skulle lägga sig som ett lock på atmosfären i flera års tid och sänka temperaturen på jordytan till katastrofala nivåer. Fenomenet gick under begreppet atomvinter: ett ord som de här åren låg som ett kylelement under den dystopiska tidsandan med dess undergångsfantasier och nihilistiska yuppieideal. Med dess apolitiska alienering, och en popkultur som manglade ut sin svarta depprock och sina frostiga syntslingor över en ekande posthistorisk avgrund.Men den hotande atomvintern gav också näring åt en växande proteströrelse. Civilisationskritiken, som under sextio- och sjuttiotalen blivit ett allt tyngre inslag i kärnvapenmotståndet förenades på åttiotalet med feministiska, postkoloniala och antikapitalistiska strömningar i en gränsöverskridande skepsis mot den tekniska utvecklingen som filosofen och antikärnvapenveteranen Günther Anders såg som ett senkommet historiskt genombrott när han i början av åttiotalet samlade sina reflexioner i de här frågorna i boken Hiroshima ist überall, Hiroshima är överallt. I England tog ett feministiskt fredsläger form i protest mot utplaceringen av kärnvapen vid armébasen i Greenham Common. I Australien protesterade urbefolkningen mot uranbrytningen på traditionell aboriginsk mark, i New Mexico i USA krävde Navajofolket kompensation för kärnvapenprovens radioaktiva kontaminering. Och i Oceaniens övärld växte rörelsen för ”ett kärnvapenfritt Stilla Havet”, som en reaktion på de franska och amerikanska provsprängningar som gjort många öar obeboeliga. För dem som tvingats bort från sina hem var stormakternas så kallade ”nukleära kolonialism” bara ännu en form av cyniskt imperialistiskt våld.Denna världsomspännande folkrörelse såg för en kort tid ut att faktiskt stå inför ett globalt genombrott. I juni 1982 samlade en demonstration i New York en miljon deltagare i protest mot kärnvapenrustningen; några veckor tidigare hade bortåt hundratusen människor tågat genom Göteborg under samma paroller. Jag var själv en av dem. Liknande fredsmarscher ägde rum över hela den europeiska kontinenten. Vad vi kanske inte riktigt förstod, tror jag – hur vi nu skulle kunnat göra det, där vi vällde fram, mitt i alltihop – var hur snärjda vi alla redan var i den nukleära terrorbalansens världsordning. För om nu ”Hiroshima är överallt”, som Günther Anders skrev – måste det då inte betyda att också protesterna blir en del av systemet: en balanserande motvikt som invaggar oss i tron att den nukleärteknologiska utvecklingen trots allt ska gå att tämja och hantera? Sedda från dagens tidsavstånd kan de ju faktiskt se så ut, som en avledande, kringgående rörelse, en historiens list som tillfälligt öppnade en politisk ventil och lät oron pysa ut, utan att i grunden ändra något överhuvudtaget. Allt medan utvecklingen gick vidare i sina obevekliga spår.Nej, jag vet inte. Men kanske var det en sådan insikt som landade i världens medvetande i april 1986, med haveriet i Tjernobyl. Plötsligt visade det sig mycket konkret – om man nu inte redan hade förstått det – att Hiroshima verkligen var överallt: i luften, i vattnet, i maten vi äter. Helt oberoende av nationsgränser och politiska system. Sociologen Ulrich Beck skrev i sin uppmärksammade bok Risksamhället hur händelser som just den i Tjernobyl tvingar hela samhället att orientera sig efter potentiella risker, försöka förutse och förebygga – och inte minst: uppfostra sina medborgare i riskmedvetenhet, eller uttryckt på ett annat sätt, i oro. Vi får i förlängningen ett samhälle där rädslan är det som binder samman, ett samhälle vars främsta uppgift blir att vidmakthålla en bedräglig illusion om säkerhet.I detta risksamhälle måste till slut också kärnteknologin banaliseras och kläs i termer av säkerhet. Det talas om kärnvapnen som ett skyddande ”paraply”, om kärnenergin som en trygghet i en osäker och föränderlig omvärld. Hiroshima känns mycket avlägset. Att besöka staden idag ger upphov till en märklig svindelkänsla: åttio år efter bomben sjuder staden av liv som vilken modern metropol som helst, de hypersnabba shinkansentågen anländer och avgår på sekunden på den centrala järnvägsterminalen, nästan som om inget hänt. Men det har det. Det har det, verkligen – under ytan ömmar fortfarande traumat, men med sin ärrvävnad av monument och museala artefakter, all denna rekvisita i en minneskultur som hoppas läka det som inte går att läka.Kanske är det det han menar, den japanske mannen i Alain Resnais film Hiroshima, min älskade, när han säger till sin franska älskarinna att hon aldrig har sett något i Hiroshima. För det som skett går inte att se. Med varje gest som återkallar minnet följer en som hjälper till att utplåna det. I filmen är den franska kvinnan själv på flykt undan ett krigstrauma: hennes första kärlek var en tysk ockupationssoldat – och minnet av hur hon blev vittne till hans död för en anonym kula från en motståndsman är, förstår man, det hon nu på ett bakvänt sätt försöker bearbeta genom att vara med och spela in en ”fredsfilm” (som det kallas) i Hiroshima.Men traumat, visar det sig, går inte att förtränga. Det finns kvar. Precis som atomvintern finns kvar – som en iskall, omedveten rysning under kärnvapenparaplyet. Spöket från Hiroshima, skuggan av den okände som satt och väntade på bankens trappa just när bomben föll, har vuxit till ett skymningsdunkel som vi mer eller mindre tycks ha vant oss vid. Om det totala atomkriget bryter ut skulle det, enligt en vanlig uppgift, ta sjuttiotvå minuter innan det mesta av vår civilisation är ödelagd. En dryg timme. Längre är den inte, framtiden.Dan Jönssonförfattare och essäistLitteraturAnnie Jacobsen: Kärnvapenkrig – ett scenario. Översättare: Claes-Göran Green. Fri Tanke, 2024.Tsuyoshi Hasegawa: Racing the Enemy – Stalin, Truman, and the Surrender of Japan. Harvard University Press, 2005.Marguerite Duras: Hiroshima, mon amour – filmmanus och berättelse. Översättare: Annika Johansson. Modernista, 2014.H. G. Wells: Tono-Bungay. (Ej översatt till svenska i modern tid, original: Macmillan, 1909.)Günther Anders: Hiroshima ist überall. C. H. Beck, 1982.Hisashi Tōhara: Il y a un an Hiroshima. översättare: Dominique Palmé. Gallimard, 2011 (postum utgåva från återfunnen text).Masuji Ibuse: Black Rain. Översättare: John Bester. Kodansha International, 1969.Claude Eatherly / Günther Anders: Samvete förbjudet – brevväxling. Översättare: Ulrika Wallenström. Daidalos, 1988.Kenzaburō Ōe: Hiroshima Notes. Översättare: David L. Swain & Toshi Yonezawa. Marion Boyars, 1995.Peter Glas: Först blir det alldeles vitt – röster om atomvintern. Natur & Kultur, 1984.Ulrich Beck: Risksamhället – på väg mot en annan modernitet. Översättare: Svenja Hums. Bokförlaget Daidalos, 2018.Hannah Arendt: Människans villkor. Översättare: Alf Ahlberg. Rabén & Sjögren, 1963.LjudSylvain Cambreling, Nathalie Stutzmann, Theresa Kohlhäufl, Tim Schwarzmaier, August Zirner med Bayerska Radions Kör och Symfoniorkester (München): Voiceless Voice In Hiroshima. Kompositör: Toshio Hosokawa med texter från liturgin, Paul Celan och Matsuo Bashō. Col legno, 2001.Sveriges Radios arkiv.US National archives.Hiroshima mon amour (1959), regi: Alain Resnais, manus: Marguerite Duras. Producent: Argos Films. Musik: Georges Delerue och Giovanni Fusco.
This episode we are looking at the early years of the official reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tenno, including the building of a brand new capital on the shores of Lake Biwa. For more information, see: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-126 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 126: New Beginnings The local farmers couldn't help but talk. There was so much construction, but it wasn't entirely clear what was being built. The land between the mountains and the lake had been neatly groomed fields, but now that the government workmen had moved in, all of those fields were being cleared. This new construction was much larger than anything that people had seen before. Rocks were coming in from far flung quarries, and local kilns were being set up to create tiles, while woodcutters were sent into the forests to bring logs to the site. There were various stories about what was going on—a new provincial government office, or perhaps a new temple, but perhaps the most outlandish was that this was going to be some kind of royal palace. The sovereign himself was taking in interest in this little slice of Afumi, and he was going to abandon the Home Territories of Yamato and bring his entire court to the shores of Lake Biwa. What a far-fetched story! …Wasn't it? Last episode we recapped a lot of the history of Prince Naka no Oe and how he had come to this point: the Isshi Incident, the Taika reforms, as well as the reigns of his uncle, Prince Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, and his mother, Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou. With Takara Hime's death, Naka no Oe was now – finally, as he might have thought -- running things officially. He had prosecuted the war in Baekje, and with that loss, he had turned his focus back to the archipelago. He now had refugees to settle, and defenses to set up. And then there were the embassies that would be coming, in an apparent attempt to normalize relations post-conflict. That could only go so far, however, given that Tang and Silla had simply turned their war efforts against Goguryeo. So one imagines that any diplomatic discussions were held with the understanding that the international order was still in flux. And so we arrive in the 8th month of 665, as some of the first defensive castles were being erected. That same month, Tamna—the kingdom on the modern island of Jeju—sent ambassadors to the Yamato court. The diplomatic ties between Yamato and Tamna were a relatively recent occurrence, but with Baekje gone, one wonders if Yamato wasn't feeling out a new alliance on the continent. That said, Tamna does not appear to have been a major player on the international stage. They had been a tributary of Baekje, and may have even been one of the last holdouts of the proto-Japonic language for a long time. Indeed, a 15th century Joseon history records a foundation myth of Tamna that emphasizes close early ties with the Japanese archipelago. The following month saw another visit by Tang ambassadors, only a year after Guo Wucong had come to the court. Guo Wucong had been wined and dined, and things seem to have gone well, as this time he returned, but he wasn't the one leading the embassy this time. That honor went to Liu Degao, sub-prefect of Yizhou, among his many titles. Yizhou is the same location where the previous missions from Yamato to the Tang court had made landfall. Presumably, Liu Degao would have had experience with the embassies that passed through Yizhou, so he seems a logical choice to be sent over to the archipelago. This seems like an escalation, with a more titled ambassador leading the party. It is possible that the Tang were trying to not only reset their relationship with Yamato, but also attempt to woo them to their side. The Tang likely knew that if they defeated Goguryeo, then they would have another problem to work out: The alliance with Silla. At the moment both Tang and Silla were in a partnership of convenience, but the Tang empire didn't get where it was by just giving up territory. And Silla was, itself, ambitious. It would be in the Tang dynasty's best interest to have Yamato on its side in case Silla became a problem. At the very least, the Tang court could have just been trying to make sure that Yamato would stay out of any continental entanglements, such as by supporting Goguryeo. Within the Yamato court, it is unclear which way, exactly, they were leaning at this point. The court was clearly building defensive positions—fortresses and more. At the same time, there were likely those who welcomed any return to stable relations with the Tang. After all, there were still Wa in Chang'an and elsewhere, and there was still a hunger in the archipelago for the books and other goods that the Silk Road could provide. On the other hand, they may have felt more at home with Goguryeo, or even Silla. The bonds with the Korean peninsula were older and likely stronger. And, as long as the Tang Empire was busy with other states, then perhaps they would be too preoccupied to attack Yamato. Liu Degao and his entourage had arrived at Tsushima on the 28th day of the 7th month. They would have been put up there for a time, and entertained. If this embassy followed later conventions, they would have likely pulled into a harbor, like the one near Kofunakoshi. This is a narrow spot between the two parts of Tsushima, where we know that in the 9th century, ships from the Tang empire would stop, register goods and people, and likely have them transferred to Japanese ships. All of the checking and cataloging would happen at nearby Bairinji temple. Even if they didn't have to transport everything to another ship, it is likely that they would held at Tsushima for a while for security purposes. Tsushima was ideal, both for its distance, halfway between the Korean peninsula and the Japanese archipelago, but also for its shape, with numerous places that ships could sit at anchor in secluded bays away from any weather or rough seas that could otherwise cause problems. We don't know exactly what the Tang embassy's stay was like, but we know that they were at Tsushima for roughly two months, which was probably the time it took to get a message to the Yamato court and back. We know how long it was because we learn that it is on the 20th day of the 9th month that they finally made landfall at Tsukushi, or Kyushu, and two days later they forwarded a letter-case to the Yamato court. Two months later, we know they were at the court, as there was a banquet held for Liu Degao on the 13th day of the 11th month, and then a month after that, Liu Degao and the rest of the mission were presented gifts, after which they left and returned to the Tang court. We are also told that Mori no Kimi no Ohoishi, along with Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwashiki and Kimi no Kishi no Harima all went to the Tang court that same month, no doubt traveling with Degao and Wucong. On the first month of the following year, Neungnu of Goguryeo was sent to the Yamato court to offer tribute. On the same day, the 11th day of the first month, Tamna also sent someone identified as Prince Siyeo to offer presents. Immediately, I'm wondering about the way that this is presented. Both of these states – Goguryeo and Tamna - were allies of the former Baekje kingdom. I have to wonder how the Goguryeo ships made their way—did they come down the western side of the peninsula, through the Bohai sea, and thus past possible Tang patrols between their peninsular and continental territories, or did they head through the East Sea, aka the Japan Sea, where they would have to pass by the coast of Silla, whom they were also not on great terms with? The fact that both missions are mentioned at the same time suggests that maybe the Goguryeo embassy sailed down to Tamna, on Jeju Island, and then the two groups made their way over to Yamato together from there. Other things about this entry to note is that the Chroniclers use different terms for these visits to the Yamato court. Goguryeo uses a term that Aston translates as “offering tribute” while Tamna uses a different term indicating that they were “offering presents”. This may be as simple as the difference in the various relationships between the polities, as viewed by the Chroniclers. After all, there was a long relationship between Yamato and Goguryeo, which was considered one of the three Han, or Samhan. Whether true or not, I could certainly see the Chroniclers feeling that Goguryeo was in a subordinate relationship with Yamato. Tamna, on the other hand, was a more recent addition to the Yamato diplomatic sphere. As such, it would be understandable, to me if the Chroniclers still saw it as a more independent entity. It also may hint at different messages being communicated. As far as we can tell, Tamna wasn't under direct threat by the Tang empire—though they may have been feeling a little bit of heat, given the fall of Baekje and the Tang empire's new outpost on the peninsula. Goguryeo, however, was under more direct threat, and had been in conflict with the Tang for years. On top of that, based on what we can tell, it seems that Yeong Gaesomun, the despot who had been ruling Goguryeo and helping it defend against the Tang, had just passed away. It may have been that the Goguryeo court was seeking support against Tang and Silla, as they were in a moment of instability, themselves. As such, “Tribute” might indicate that they were more formally petitioning Yamato for support. Goguryeo envoy Neungnu left about 5 months later, on the 4th day of the 6th month but then another envoy, this time Minister Eulsyang Oemchu, arrived a little more than four months later. Much like with the Tang, this feels like Goguryeo was upping the ante, sending higher ranking officials to negotiate with Yamato. That lends some credence to the theory that there was something of a bidding war going on for Yamato's involvement in international affairs. For Yamato, however, it would seem that getting involved in continental affairs was hardly something they were itching to do. Instead, they continued their moves to fortify. In local events, we know that on the 11th day of the 10th month of 665, while the Liu Degao delegation was still in Yamato, there was a great “review”, by which they seem to mean a sutra reading, at Uji. It is unclear just where this was held, as I haven't found reference to any particular temple. However, it does indicate that there was activity in the area. Uji is probably most popular, today, for its role as a setting in the Tale of Genji. There indeed numerous reminders there of the Heian period, including the hall of Ujigami Shrine, and the famous Hou-ou-do, or Phoenix Hall, of the Byoudouin. In 1053, Fujiwara Yorimichi inherited the villa from his father, Fujiwara Michinaga, and he converted it into a Pure Land temple. Michinaga is thought to have been one of the people on whom Murasaki Shikibu based the character of the Shining Prince, Hikaru Genji. That's all too late for this moment in the Chronicles, of course., but we do have earlier references to Uji as a place, as well as in various names. It seems to have been part of the territory of the Hata, who controlled much of the area of modern Kyoto and environs. There is a temple, Houjouin, also known as Hashidera, which claims to date back to the 7th century, and may have been the site of the above-mentioned sutra reading in 665. According to the Temple's own legend, it was built around 604, when Hata no Kawakatsu built the famous Uji bridge, or Hashi, on the orders of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. Other sources give the date as 646. The temple was rebuilt in the 13th century, and as far as I can tell, nothing remains of the original temple, but it is possible that it was the site of this review. The next non-Diplomatic record of the Chronicles is from the 3rd month in 666. The Crown Prince went to the house of Saheki no Komaro no Muraji, paying a sympathy call as Saheki appears to have passed away after having been gravely ill. Saheki no Komaro no Muraji was one of those who had helped Naka no Oe in the Isshi Incident. He had been introduced to the plot by Nakatomi no Kamatari, and then critical in the literal execution at the court. He later led forces against Furubito no Oe, assuming that “Sahekibe no Komaro” is the same as “Saheki no Muraji no Komaro”. There is also a relative, possibly his son, Takunaha, who was one of the Yamato court's overseas envoys. Thus, one can understand that he had some importance to the Royal family, and we can probably assume that he had been involved in much more. The Crown Prince, we are told, lamented him on account of his loyal service from the very beginning. One of the confusing things in this part of the Chronicle is the term “Crown Prince”. It doesn't help that the Chroniclers were pulling from different records, and sometimes using anachronistic titles for individuals. Naka no Oe had been known as the Crown Prince since the time of Takara Hime, whether he actually was or not. Now he was in charge of the government, but it isn't clear that he had been formally invested as tennou. More than that, there is mention of an investiture in either 667 or 668, several years after his quote-unquote “reign” had begun. This makes some sense. After all, when Takara Hime passed away, there was a foreign war to prosecute, and that probably took a fair bit of resources. Plus, Naka no Oe had been running things for a while before that, or so we are told. It would make sense if things just kept on going as they had been, and they held the actual investiture when they got around to it. We also know that he was busy with building projects: not just for the defense of the archipelago, but even a new capital and a new palace. We'll talk about it a bit more, later, but suffice it to say that he may have been taking his time and gathering everything together. All of this makes the Chronicles themselves somewhat confusing. They throw around the terms “Crown Prince” and “Sovereign”—well, “Sumera no Mikoto”—almost interchangeably. Meanwhile, they've also stated that the Crown Prince was Prince Ohoama, Naka no Oe's younger brother. Based on my read of things, I believe we can distinguish between the two by whether or not it specifically calls them out as just “Crown Prince”, or “Crown Prince, younger brother to the sovereign”. The latter is clearly Prince Ohoama, and the first is most likely Naka no Oe. After all, in this instance, why would Prince Ohoama be the one so struck by the death of Saheki no Muraji? Based on the story the Chronicles have told us, wouldn't it make more sense that it was Naka no Oe lamenting the death of one who had helped put him on the throne, rather than sending his brother? So keep that in mind as we go through the narrative. I'll try to point out whom I believe they are speaking about, at least until we reach the point where Naka no Oe actually is invested. Getting back to the Chronicles, in the 7th month of the year 666, some four months after the illness and death of Saheki no Komaro no Muraji, another disaster struck—this time a natural disaster. Great floods were reported—how widespread we aren't told. This is often a problem in a land with many mountains that often gets large rains. It is especially problematic when much of your agriculture is based on being just at or below the level of the rivers and streams so that it can be flooded on purpose. We are told that the government remitted the land-taxes and commuted taxes that year, likely as a form of disaster relief to those affected by the flooding. In 666, we are also told a story that actually links this reign to the previous. We are told that a monk, named Chiyu, gave the sovereign something called a south-pointing chariot. I'll talk about what this was in another episode. What's important here is to note that there was a previous entry in the era attributed to Saimei Tennou, aka Takara Hime, where a monk named Chiyu, or something similar, using different characters, also created a south-pointing chariot. Likewise, we are later told in this reign how Naka no Oe installed a clepsydra, a water clock. This is also mentioned in the previous reign. It is possible that these reference completely different accounts. Or they could be connected in some way. The south-pointing chariot is probably not something that we'll have evidence of, as it would have been mobile and probably deteriorated over time. However, the water clock would have been a fixed installation with some clear architectural remnants, and indeed we think we know where at least one was built in Asuka. Both of the water clock entries say that it was the “first” time, so make of that what you will. Also in 666, we see that some 2000 people of Baekje were settled in the East, possibly meaning the Kanto region, though this could be anywhere between modern Nagoya out to the far eastern edge of Honshu. They were maintained at the government expense for three years, after which they were expected to have built new lives for themselves. In later periods, there is much to be said about “Men of the East”. There are those that point to this region as being the origin point of many of the warrior traditions that would arise and become the military samurai. Some of the weapons and fighting styles, especially some of the horse-riding archery seems to point to continental influences that made their way to the Kanto region and beyond. One has to consider just how much did they bring with them and how did it grow, often beyond the view of the court and the court chronicles. For now, though, it seems to have largely been a form of a refugee program, since the Baekje no longer had a kingdom to return to. Finally, we have an omen. In the winter of 666, the rats of the capital, in Asuka, headed north to Afumi. As with previous entries about rats departing a capital for a direction, this is again meant as an omen. It probably didn't happen. But it does foreshadow an account in the following year, when, on the 19th day of the 3rd month, the capital, surprise-surprise, moved to Afumi. And perhaps I shouldn't be flippant. It was a surprise to have the capital move to Afumi. There are accounts of legendary sovereigns that had their palace outside of the Nara Basin or Kawachi area, but at this point Yamato had been really building up those areas. So why would they suddenly relocate to Afumi, of all places? Well, probably because of the same thing that had been driving the rest of their large-scale building projects during this period—from the Water Castle protecting the Dazai to the various Baekje style fortresses from Tsushima down to the Nara Basin. Afumi was a naturally defensive position. And in such an uncertain time, having a well-defended capital must have seen like a very good idea. In fact, though they didn't formally change the capital until the 3rd month of 667, they probably had started work on it as soon as they got back from the loss at Hakusukinoe. As far as locations go, it wasn't necessarily a bad choice. There were still routes to the port at Naniwa, which could still house various delegations when they arrived. There were also routes to the east, leading to Owari and the rest of central and eastern Honshu, as well as mountain passes to get to the Japan Sea. The area where the new palace was located was in the district of Ohotsu. Ohotsu means something like “Big Port” and I don't know if it was already a major port along the banks of Lake Biwa or if that was a name that came from having the capital there. Ohotsu was a long-inhabited area, even well before the 660's, and an important site for trade. In the southern end of modern Ohotsu city is Ishiyama-dera, the stone mountain temple, it which was built in the 8th century, but in front of the temple are the remains of the largest freshwater shellmound in Asia. As you may recall from some of our earliest episodes talking about the prehistoric period in the Japanese archipelago, shell mounds are typically evidence of ancient settlements, remnants of dump sites where they could throw their detritus. This probably included a lot more than just shells, but shells, bones, and sometimes things like pottery sherds, would remain. And while much of the wood and waste of the period would have disintegrated over time, shells do not. These shell mounds accordingly provide important insight into the lives of people back in that day, and the size can also help us understand things about how large a settlement might have been or how long it was there. The sheer size of the shellmound at Ishiyama-dera likely indicates that the region had been settled for many centuries prior to the 600's. In addition to the shellmound, and more closely related to the current times we are discussing, is evidence of a rock quarry found at the temple site and showing evidence of techniques familiar to people of the 6th to 8th centuries. You see, Ishiyama is a source of a particular white stone called wollastonite. The quarry sits below the main hall of the temple, and so it probably would not have been quarried after the hall was built, which was in the 700s, so the site is believed to have been active before that. From the composition of the stone and the markings on the remnants, we can see similarities to stones in the base of one of the buildings at Kawaradera, in Asuka, which we've talked about before and which was one of the pre-eminent temples of its day. So this demonstrates a link between the region and the court even before the construction of the new Ohotsu palace. Speaking of the palace, we've known of its exact position since 1974, when archeologists found evidence of the foundation of a large complex in a residential district in Nishikori. While some initially suggested it was an old temple, further evidence makes it pretty clear that it was the dairi, or inner sanctum, of a palace. This is very much in the same mould as the Toyosaki Palace in Naniwa and the various palaces in Asuka from around the same period. In front of the dairi would have been the actual government buildings, but that area has not been excavated. That brings up another question: was this a full-on capital city, Ohotsu-kyo, or just a palace, the Ohotsu-no-miya? So far we have only found the palace, But since the area is fairly built up, it may take time to find more, assuming it hasn't been destroyed by previous urban development in the area. There are some hints that there was more: while there were already at a couple of temples that had been built by the mid-7th century, we see several temples built in ways that not only borrow features from important Asuka temples, like the layout of Kawaradera, but they also match the alignment of the Otsu palace ruins, hinting that they were built at the same time. For example, there is are the ruins of an abandoned temple in Shiga-Minami – actually once thought to have been the Otsu palace. There was also Soufukuji, a temple in the mountains nearby meant to protect the Northwest from malign influences, likely based on continental geomantic concepts, part of what we might today think of as Feng Shui. This same kind of protective temple building is what we see in later capital cities. Of course, we know that this would not be a permanent capital for the nation of Yamato or of Japan—we aren't that far off from the Nara period, and then, a century later, the capital at Heian-kyo. But that couldn't have been known at the time. There was no way to know how long tensions with the continent would last, and it was just as possible that people at the time expected this to be a permanent move. Its preeminence lasted, too: we do have evidence that even centuries later, the region was still known as an ancient “capital”. No matter what Naka no Oe's intentions were in moving the capital to Afumi, however, it didn't exactly go over well. It was apparently quite unpopular—so unpopular that the move was mocked in song of the time. That said, Naka no Oe's mind was made up, and the move took place regardless. Before moving the capital, however, there was still business to attend to. Takara Hime and Princess Hashibito were reinterred together in the Misasagi on Wochi Hill. We are told that men of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla all mourned along the processional route. The Crown Prince—I'm assuming Naka no Oe, this time given his connection to both of these women—apparently had started the work on a stone sarcophagus. By this was probably meant the actual stone vault of the tomb, rather than just the coffin, which was also likely made of stone. This was in Kuramaki, in Takatori, in the Takaichi District of the Nara Basin. Three months after the move to the new capital, the district of Kadono, in the west of modern Kyoto, presented to the sovereign a white swallow—an omen of some sort. The following month, on the 11th day of the 7th month, Tamna sent another embassy, led by a Minister known as Cheonma, with presents for Yamato. This may have been the first envoy to actually visit the new Ohotsu capital, but certainly not the last. Cheonma stuck around for a few months. In the intercalary 11th month, which is to say the extra 11th month of 667, inserted to keep the lunar and solar calendars at least partially aligned, Cheonma and his companions were presented with brocade and other cloth, as well as axes, sickles, and swords, presumably to take home to Tamna. While Cheonma was at the court, there was apparently another bit of diplomatic ping-pong going on. Liu Jenyuan, the Tang general in charge of Baekje, sent Szema Facong and others to escort Sakahibe no Iwashiki and those with him to the Dazai in Tsukushi. They didn't stay long, though—we are told they arrived on the 9th day of the 11th month and left only 4 days later, on the 13th day of the same. When they left, however, they, themselves, were given escorts of Yuki no Muraji no Hakatoko—the same one whose memoirs we relied on for that previous trip to the Tang court—as well as Kaso no Omi no Moroshi. So I guess they were escorting the escorts? At what point does it end? Hakatoko and others made it back about three months later, on the 23rd day of the first month of 668, and reported on their own escort mission. That suggests that they didn't escort them that far. They may have just seen them back to the Korean peninsula and that was it. Hakatoko's escort mission did mean that he missed a rather important event—the Crown Prince assuming the dignity. That is to say, Naka no Oe finally took the title of sovereign. A note in the text suggests that there were other sources that said it was the third month of the previous year—the same time that the Otsu capital was built. Four days later they held a banquet in the palace for all of the court ministers. A little over a month later, his wife, Yamato bime, was appointed queen. We are then told of his other wives and consorts. To be clear, Naka no Oe had been collecting consorts for ages. So let's talk about a few of them. To start with there was Yamatobime, the Yamato Princess, daughter of none other than Naka no Oe's half-brother, Prince Furubito no Oe, his former rival to the throne. Then there was Wochi no Iratsume, aka Princess Miyatsuko, the daughter of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa Maro. She had a son, Prince Takeru, who died in 651 at the age of 8. That suggests that she and Naka no Oe had been together since at least 643, two years before the Isshi Incident. Another one of her daughters, Princess Uno, would go on to marry Naka no Oe's younger brother, Prince Ohoama, the new Crown Prince. Wochi no Iratsume seems to have died of grief in 649, after her father and much of her family were destroyed on the orders of her husband, Naka no Oe. We are told that Naka no Oe also married Wochi no Iratsume's younger sister as well, Mehi no Iratsume. She had two daughters, Princess Minabe and Princess Abe. At this point Abe was only about 7 or 8 years old, herself, but she would eventually be married to Prince Kusakabe, the son of Prince Ohoama and Princess Uno, whom we just mentioned. Naka no Oe also had two other consorts. Tachibana no Iratsume was the daughter of Abe no Kurahashi no Maro no Oho-omi—he was the first Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, at the start of the Taika reforms, immediately following the Isshi Incident. And then there was Hitachi no Iratsume, the daughter of Soga no Akaye. Soga no Akaye is an interesting figure. You may recall the name from Episode 118. Soga no Akaye was the acting minister in charge in Yamato when Prince Arima tried to start up a revolt against Takara Hime. It was in his house where Prince Arima laid out his plan, but a broken armrest convinced Soga no Akaye to turn against the conspirators and turn them in. And so it is interesting to hear that his daughter was married to Naka no Oe. We are also told of four “palace women” that Naka no Oe is said to have had children with. The implication seems to be that these were women at the palace but they were not formally recognized with the same status as that of the formal consorts and, of course, the queen, his primary wife. This fits in with at least one theory I've seen that Naka no Oe was something of a ladies' man. It seems he got around even more than Murasaki Shikibu's fictional “Shining Prince”, Hikaru Genji. We are told that there were at least 14 children among the nine official wives—and one has to consider that they were unlikely to record many of the women whom he may have slept with that he didn't also have children with. And there is a theory that one of those not mentioned, may have been his own sister, full blooded sister. Specifically, his sister Princess Hashibito, who was married to none other than Naka no Oe's uncle, Prince Karu, aka Jomei Tennou. To be clear: we have no clear evidence that they were anything other than close siblings, but as you may recall how we mentioned back in Episode 114 that there was something that caused a falling out between Prince Karu and Naka no Oe, such that Naka no Oe disobeyed the sovereign's direct order in moving himself and the royal family back to Asuka. That meant Naka no Oe, his wives, his mother, AND his sister, Princess—now Queen—Hashibito. So, yeah, he absconded with Prince Karu's wife who was Naka no Oe's full-blooded sister. And, as we've noted before, ancient Yamato's concept of incest was pretty narrow. It was only if you had the same mother that you were considered full siblings—even if the father were someone else. I suspect that this is related to the matrilineal nature of succession as well, which is why it was so important to insist that the ancient sovereigns had a direct lineal connection to the royal line through their mother as much as through their father. So if Naka no Oe and his sister were having any kind of relationship that was considered wrong or scandalous, then that could also help explain why he didn't take the throne sooner, and why it passed over to his mother. But now, both Takara Hime and Hashibito were quite literally dead and buried, and Naka no Oe had ascended to the throne. Of the so-called “Palace Women” that are listed as being likewise married to—or at least in a relationship with—Naka no Oe, I'd like to focus on one: Iga no Uneme no Yakako. For one, she is specifically mentioned as an uneme—one of the women sent to the court specifically to serve in the palace. But her parentage isn't further illuminated other than the name “Iga” which is probably a locative, possibly referring to the area of Iga. This is also interesting because we are also told that she gave birth to a son named Prince Iga, also known as Prince Ohotomo. Despite his mother's apparently unremarkable status, Prince Ohotomo seems to have been quite the apple of his father's eye. He was born in 648, so in 668 he was about 20 years old, meaning that around this time he was probably just coming into his own at court. He was married to his cousin, Princess Touchi, daughter of his uncle, Crown Prince Ohoama. He was also married to Mimotoji, who appears to have been a daughter of Nakatomi no Kamatari, meaning that he was pretty well connected. But we'll get into that in a future episode. For now, I think we'll leave it here: with the move of the capital to Ohotsu and the formal ascension of Naka no Oe to the throne. We'll talk about what that might mean in the future. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
Joining us for this episode are Christian Ruecker and Gabriel Morley from DEKRA, one of the most trusted names in certification and inspection across the globe. In this episode, we'll unpack what it really takes to pursue and maintain OE certifications, what makes BMW's process so unique, and how to evaluate the ROI of certification—especially for high-volume brands. If you're considering OE certification or want to improve how you leverage the ones you already have, this one's for you. Connect with Gabriel & Christian: gabriel.morley@dekra.com christian.ruecker@dekra.com This episode is sponsored by: asTech asTech is dedicated to safety, precision, and innovation in vehicle diagnostics. With industry-leading scanning and calibration solutions, asTech ensures every repair meets OEM standards, enhancing safety and customer satisfaction. Continuously testing and scanning new vehicles, asTech refines its technology to stay ahead of modern repair challenges. A tool stack covering 40+ brands and a network of 400+ ASE and I-CAR certified technicians provide fast, accurate diagnostics that maximize efficiency. asTech—driven by precision, powered by safety. Visit https://astech.com/ today or call 1-888-486-1166.
Welcome to Oconee's Own, a podcast production of The Oconee Enterprise. This week's episode features an interview with The Oconee Enterprise Sports Editor Stuart Steele, where he shares insight on his role at The OE and how he got involved in sports journalism. You can find our publication at OconeeEnterprise.com. Please email any questions for Stuart to SportsEditor@OconeeEnterprise.com and any podcast questions or suggestions to Podcast@OconeeEnterprise.com
This is the AHRMM Subject Matter Expert Podcast hosted by Justin Poulin. Tune in every month as we speak with Industry Experts to highlight success stories and solutions from the field that advance the healthcare supply chain. And now, Justin Poulin with this month's Expert… Guest: Joseph Carr, Vice President of Supply Chain at Akron Children's Hospital Topic: Product requisition and value analysis processes Outline: - Intro to Joseph & Background - Tell us about Operational Excellence at Akron Children's - Two Projects for Improvement * Product Requisition * Value Analysis - Product Requisition * Challenge: No hierarchy in the product req process * Kaison Event – full process mapping (OE conducted) * 80k specials per year * Significant opportunity for savings/avoidance addressing a small percentage (5-10%) - Value Analysis * No process in product req to review if VA needs to be involved * Big need for templating and were able to shift the work from SC & Clinician's to suppliers * Next step is automation - What's next – Inventory Logistics and Distribution
Fue una de las actrices más famosas de los años 80 del siglo XX. Sin embargo, a mediados de la década de los 90 dio un portazo a Hollywood y abandonó el cine. Bastantes años después regresaría a él pero desde entonces su presencia en las pantallas ha resultado mucho más discreta. Nos referimos a Debra Winger. La actriz cumple 70 años y nosotros repasamos su carrera en este episodio. El próximo jueves día 15 se celebra San Isidro, la fiesta patronal de Madrid y por tal motivo hemos buscado en nuestra “Enciclopedia curiosa” películas del cine americano rodadas en parte o en su totalidad en la capital de España. Charlamos con las directoras Jone Ibarretxe y Nerea Fálagan, responsables del documental “Esto no es Hollywood” y en la sección dedicada al cine del Oeste tenemos esta semana “El forastero” de William Wyler, con Gary Cooper y Walter Brennan de protagonistas.
The centre of the world. It's a funny concept, really, because on a planet with 8 billion people, the world's attention never settles on any one event or thing for much more than a moment. Most of the time you would probably argue that the world's attention is divided and scattered. It takes an historic moment, something really big, truly significant, to hone those 8 billion sets of eyes to one point. And to be there in person, to actually experience it for yourself is to be an eyewitness to history. I met a guy who was on his OE in Europe in 1989 when he woke up one morning and heard maybe something was stirring. He hustled to a train and ended up with his photograph in the New York Times, tearing down the Berlin Wall. Truthfully, I can't compete with that. But by the nature of my job, I guess I've been fortunate to witness some reasonably significant events, first hand. I sat there as Pope Francis addressed the General Assembly of the United Nations. I've seen Presidential inaugurations, Obama speaking on the mall. I was there in the room in 2016 when Donald Trump strode into a Philadelphia arena and formally accepted the Republican nomination for President of the United States. Something tells me that despite our geographic isolation, New Zealanders are good at sniffing out big historic moments. It could be a regal one – a royal wedding of a funeral? It can be a tragic event like witnessing the 9/11 attacks. Sport can be a good one. I saw Leo Messi score for Argentina at the opening game of the 2014 Football World Cup. That was special. And I was sitting on the finish line when Usain Bolt won the 100m at the Rio Olympic Games. Sometimes it takes luck. Sometimes it takes money. And sometimes it takes an exclusive kind of privilege that almost none of us will ever have. Take a papal conclave. There might be 1.4 billion Catholics on the planet, but only those cardinals who were in the room will ever truly know what it was like to be a part of that conclave. Just being outside in St Peters Square would be an incredible experience; the moment everyone saw the white smoke. But just imagine being inside. If you were to divide the number of followers worldwide by every man in that room, there are more than ten million Catholics for each individual cardinal. But only those cardinals will know what it's like to be there in person, to see the votes tallied, to hear the new Pope choose a name. The world's attention might have been focused on the Vatican, waiting for the smoke, but for this moment, only a tiny few were there. 133 eyewitnesses to a moment in history. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Welcome to Oconee's Own, a podcast production of The Oconee Enterprise. This week's episode features an interview with The Oconee Enterprise Co-Publisher and Editor Michael Prochaska, where he shares insight on his role at The OE and his interests outside of journalism. You can find our publication at OconeeEnterprise.com. Please email any questions for Michael to Editor@OconeeEnterprise.com and any podcast questions or suggestions to Podcast@OconeeEnterprise.com
Following the death of Takara Hime, and the war on the Korean peninsula, Naka no Ōe was taking hold--or perhaps keeping hold--of the reins of government. He wasn't finished with his changes to the government. He also had a new threat--the Tang Empire. They had destroyed Yamato's ally, Baekje, and defeated the Yamato forces on the peninsula. While the Tang then turned their attention to Goguryeo, Yamato could easily be next. The Tang had a foothold on the Korean peninsula, so they had a place to gather and launch a fleet, should they wish to bring Yamato into their empire. For more, especially to follow along with some of the names in this episode, check out our blogpost at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-125 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 125: The Sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom The people of Baekje looked around at the strange and unfamiliar land. They had fled a wartorn country, and they were happy to be alive, but refugee status was hardly a walk in the park. Fortunately, they still knew how to farm the land, even if their homeland was hundreds of miles away, across the sea, and occupied by hostile forces. Here, at least, was a land where they could make a home for themselves. Some of them had to wonder whether this was really permanent. Was their situation just temporary until their kingdom was restored? Or were they truly the last people of Baekje, and what would that mean? Either way, it would mean nothing if they didn't work the land and provide for their families. And so, as with displaced people everywhere, they made the best of the situation. They had been given land to work, and that was more than they could have asked for. They might never return to Baekje, but perhaps they could keep a little of it alive for themselves and their descendants. Greetings, everyone, and welcome back. Last episode we talked about the downfall of Baekje and the defeat of the Yamato forces at the battle of Hakusukinoe, also known as the Battle of Baekgang, in 663. And yet, something else happened as well: the sovereign, Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, died as the Yamato forces were setting out. Immediately Prince Naka no Oe took the reins of government. He would be known to later generations as Tenji Tennou, with Tenji meaning something like “Heavenly Wisdom”. Now Prince Naka no Oe has been in the forefront of many of our episodes so far, so I'd like to start this episode out with a recap of what we've heard about him so far, as all of this is important to remind ourselves of the complex political situation. I'm going to be dropping – and recapping – a lot of names, but I'll have many of the key individuals listed on the podcast website for folks who want to follow along. I would note that this episode is going to be a summary, with some extrapolation by me regarding what was actually happening. Just remember that history, as we've seen time and again, is often more messy and chaotic than we like, and people are more complex than just being purely good or evil. People rarely make their way to the top of any social hierarchy purely through their good deeds. To start with, let's go back to before the year 645, when Naka no Oe instigated a coup against Soga no Iruka and Soga no Emishi. In the Isshi Incident, covered in Episode 106, Naka no Oe had Soga no Iruka murdered in court, in front of his mother, Takara Hime, when she sat on the throne the first time. And yet, though he could have taken the throne when she abdicated in apparent shock, he didn't. Instead, he took the role of “Crown Prince”, but this wasn't him just sitting back. In fact, evidence suggests that he used that position to keep a strong hand on the tiller of the ship of state. Prior to the Isshi Incident of 645, the rule of the Yamato sovereign had been eroded by noble court families. These families, originally set up to serve the court and its administration, had come to dominate the political structures of the court. The main branch of the Soga family, in particular, had found its way to power through a series of astute political marriages and the support of a new, foreign religion: Buddhism. Soga no Iname, Emishi's grandfather, had married his daughters to the sovereigns, and thus created closer ties between the Soga and the royal line. He also helped ensure that the offspring of those marriages would be the ones to take over as future sovereigns. Soga no Iname, himself took the position of Oho-omi, the Great Omi, or the Great Minister, the head of the other ministerial families. As Prime Minister, he held great sway over the day-to-day running of the court, and execution of much of the administration. Much of this was covered in previous episodes, but especially episodes 88, 90, 91, 92, 95, 98, 99, and 103. Soga no Umako, who succeeded his father as Oho-omi, was joined in his effort to administer the government by his grand-nephew, Prince Umayado, also known as Shotoku Taishi, son of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, and thus grandson of Umako's sister, Kitashi-hime, and the sovereign known as Kimmei Tennou. Umayado's aunt, sister to Tachibana no Toyohi, was Kashikiya Hime, or Suiko Tennou. The three of them: Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and Kashikiya Hime, together oversaw the development of Yamato and the spread of Buddhism. Buddhism was also controversial at first, but they turned it into another source of ritual power for the state—ritual power that Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and even Kashikiya Hime were able to harvest for their own use. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince, Umayado, died before Kashikiya hime, suddenly leaving open the question of who would take the throne. Soga no Umako himself, passed away two years before Kashikiya Hime. When she in turn passed away, there was another struggle for the throne, this time between the descendants of Crown Prince Umayado and Soga no Umako. Eventually, Soga no Umako's son and heir, Soga no Emishi, made sure that a more pliant sovereign, Prince Tamura, would take the throne, and Prince Umayado's own son, Prince Yamashiro no Oe, was cut out of the succession. Soga no Emishi, serving as prime minister, effectively ran things much as his father had. When Tamura diedhis queen, Takara Hime, took the throne, rather than passing it back to Umayado's line—no doubt with Emishi's blessing. He was careful, however, not to provoke direct action against Yamashiro no Oe, possibly due to the reverence in which Yamashiro's father, Prince Umayado, aka the Buddhist Saint Shotoku Taishi, was held. Meanwhile, Emishi appears to have been cultivating his grandson by way of Prince Tamura, Furubito no Oe, to eventually succeed to the throne, trying to duplicate what his own father Umako and even grandfather had been able to accomplish. Soga no Emishi's son, Soga no Iruka, was not quite so temperate, however. Who would have thought that growing up at the top of the social hierarchy might make one feel a bit arrogant and entitled? When Soga no Emishi was ill, Soga no Iruka took over as Prime Minister, and he didn't just stand back. He decided that he needed to take out Furubito no Oe's competition, and so he went after Yamashiro no Oe and had him killed. Unfortunately for him, he apparently went too far. There were already those who were not happy with the Soga family's close hold on power—or perhaps more appropriately, this particular line of the Soga family. This kind of behavior allowed a group of discontented royals and nobility to gain support. According to the popular story recounted in the Nihon Shoki, the primary seed of resistance started with a game of kickball, or kemari. Nakatomi no Kamako, aka Nakatomi no Kamatari, was the scion of his house, which was dedicated to the worship of the traditional kami of Yamato. The Nakatomi were ritualists: in charge of chanting ritual prayers, or norito, during court ceremony. This meant that their powerbase was directly challenged by the increasing role of Buddhism, one of the Soga patriarchs' key influences on the political system. Kamatari was feeling out the politics of the court, and seemed to be seeking the support of royal family members who could help challenge the powerful Soga ministers. He found that support in two places. First, in Prince Karu, brother to Takara Hime, the current sovereign, who had been on the throne ever since her husband, Tamura, had passed away. And then there was the Prince Katsuraki, better known to us, today, as Prince Naka no Oe. A game of kemari, where a group of players tried to keep a ball in the air as long as they could, using only their feet, was a chance to get close to the Prince. When Naka no Oe's shoe flew off in the middle of the match, Kamatari ran over to retrieve it. As he offered the shoe back to its owner, they got to talking, and one of the most impactful bromances in Yamato history was born. The two ended up studying together. The unification of the Yellow River and Yangzi basin regions under the Sui and Tang, and the expansion of the Silk Road, had repercussions felt all the way across the straits in Yamato. Naka no Oe and Kamatari were both avid students and were absorbing all that the continent had to throw at them about philosophy and good governance. As is so often the case, it seems like idealistic students were the fertile ground for revolutionary new thoughts. There were problems implementing their vision, however. Although the Nihon Shoki claims that Naka no Oe was the Crown Prince, that honor was probably given to Prince Furubito no Oe, who would have no doubt perpetuated the existing power structures at court. This is something that the Chroniclers, or perhaps those before them, glossed over and may have even tried to retconned, to help bolster the case that Naka no Oe was actually working for the common good and not just involved in a naked power grab for himself. There is also the question as to where Yamashiro no Oe had stood in the succession, as he likely had a fair number of supporters. With the destruction of Yamashiro no Oe's family, however, the balance of power shifted. Although Soga no Emishi had long been an influential member of the court, and not solely because of his role as Prime Minister, Soga no Iruka was relatively new to power. Yamashiro no Oe's family, in turn, likely had a fair number of supporters, and even neutral parties may have been turned off by Iruka's violent methods to suppress an opponent who had already been defeated politically. Naka no Oe and Kamatari seem to have seized on this discontent againt the Soga, but they needed at least one other conspirator. They achieved this by offering a marriage alliance with Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, a lesser member of the Soga household, whose own immediate family had been supporters of Yamashiro no Oe, and so likely had plenty of grievances with his cousins. Naka no Oe married Ishikawa no Maro's daughter, Wochi no Iratsume, also known as Chinu no Iratsume. Together, these three—Naka no Oe, Kamatari, and Ishikawa no Maro—brought others into their plot, and finally, in 645, they struck. Soga no Iruka was killed at court, in front of a shocked Takara Hime and Prince Furubito no Oe. By the way, this is another thing that suggests to me that Furubito no Oe was the Crown Prince, because why was he front and center at the ceremony, while Naka no Oe was able to skulk around at the edges, tending to things like the guards? After the assassination at the court – the Isshi Incident -- Naka no Oe gathered forces and went after Soga no Emishi, since they knew they couldn't leave him alive. With both Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka dead, and Takara Hime having abdicated the throne in shock at what had just occurred, Naka no Oe could have taken the throne for himself. However, in what was probably a rather astute move on his part, he chose not to. He recognized that Furubito no Oe's claim to the throne was possibly stronger, and those who had supported the Soga would not doubt push for him to take the throne. And so, instead, he pushed for his uncle, Prince Karu, to ascend as sovereign. Karu was Takara Hime's brother, and they could use Confucian logic regarding deference to one's elders to support him. Plus, Karu's hands weren't directly bloodied by the recent conflict. As for Prince Furubito, he saw the way that the winds were blowing. To avoid being another casualty, he retired from the world, taking the vows of a Buddhist monk. However, there were still supporters who were trying to put him on the throne and eventually he would be killed, to avoid being used as a rallying point. Prince Karu, known as Jomei Tennou, ruled for around a decade. During that time, Naka no Oe and his reformers helped to cultivate a new image of the state as a bureaucratic monarchy. Naka no Oe was designated the Crown Prince, and Nakatomi no Kamatari was made the “Inner Prime Minister”, or Naidaijin. Ishikawa no Maro was made the minister of the Right, while Abe no Uchimaro was made Minister of the Left, and they ran much of the bureaucracy, but the Naidaijin was a role more directly attached to the royal household, and likely meant that Kamatari was outside of their jurisdiction, falling into a position directly supporting Naka no Oe. They instituted Tang style rank systems, and set up divisions of the entire archipelago. They appointed governors of the various countries, now seen as provinces, and made them report up to various ministers, and eventually the sovereign. After all, if you were going to manage everything, you needed to first and foremost collect the data. This period is known as the Taika, or Great Change, period, and the reforms are known as the Taika reforms, discussed in episode 108. They even built a large government complex in the form of the Toyosaki Palace, in Naniwa, though this may have been a bit much—for more, check out episodes 112 and 113. Years into the project, though, things seem to have soured, a bit. Rumors and slander turned Kamatari against his ally, Ishikawa no Maro, resulting in the death of Ishikawa no Maro and much of his family. Naka no Oe and other members of the royal family eventually abandoned the Naniwa palace complex, leaving now-Emperor Karu and the government officials there to run the day-to-day administration, while much of the court made its way back to the Asuka area. Karu would later pass away, but the throne still did not pass to Crown Prince Naka no Oe, despite his title. Instead, the throne went back to Takara Hime. This was her second reign, and one of only two split reigns like this that we know of. The Chroniclers, who were creating posthumous titles for the sovereigns, gave her two names—Kogyoku Tennou for her reign up to 645, and then Saimei Tennou for her second reign starting in 655. During her latter reign, Naka no Oe continued to wield power as the Crown Prince, and the Chroniclers don't really get into why she came back into power. It may be that Naka no Oe, in his role as Crown Prince, had more freedom: although the sovereign is purportedly the person in power, that position can also be limiting. There are specific things which the sovereign is supposed to do, rituals in which they are expected to partake. In addition, there were restrictions on who was allowed into the inner sanctum of the palace, and thus limits on who could interact with the sovereign, and how. That meant that any sovereign was reliant on intermediaries to know what was going on in their state and to carry out their orders. As Crown Prince, Naka no Oe may have had more flexibility to do the things he wanted to do, and he could always leverage the sovereign's authority. When Baekje was destroyed, and Yamato decided to go to their aid, Naka no Oe appears to have had a strong hand in raising forces and directing movements, at least within the archipelago. When Takara Hime passed away rather suddenly, he accompanied her funerary procession much of the way back, and then returned to Tsukushi—Kyushu—to direct the war. This is the same thing that Toyotomi Hideyoshi would do when he sent troops to Korea in the late 16th century. Moving headquarters closer to the continent would reduce the time between messages. Theoretically he could have moved out to the islands of Iki or Tsushima, but I suspect that there were more amenities at Tsukushi, where they even built a palace for Takara Hime—and later Naka no Oe—to reside in. It was likely not quite as spectacular as the full-blown city that Hideyoshi developed in a matter of months, but the court could also leverage the facilities previously created for the Dazaifu. The war took time. This wasn't like some “wars” that were more like specific military actions. This was a war that dragged on for several years, with different waves of ships going over to transport people and supplies. Things came to a head in the 9th month of 663, roughly October or November on the Western calendar. The Baekje resistance was under siege, and their only hope was a fleet of Yamato soldiers coming to their aid. The Yamato fleet met with a much smaller Tang fleet at the mouth of the Baek River—the Hakusukinoe. They attempted to break through the Tang blockade, but the Tang had positional advantage and were eventually able to counterattack, destroying the Yamato fleet. Without their relief, the Baekje resistance fell. The remnants of the Yamato army, along with those Baekje nobles that were with them, headed out, fleeing back to the archipelago. One presumes that there may have been other Baekje nobles, and their families, who had already made the trip. After the entry describing this rout, on the 24th day of the 9th month of 663, we have a gap in the Chronicles of just a little more than 4 months. We then pick up with Naka no Oe's government starting to look at internal affairs. For one thing, we are told that he selected his younger brother, the Royal Prince Ohoama, as Crown Prince, and he made updates to the cap-rank system, changing it from 19 ranks to 26 ranks. The first six ranks remained the same, but the name “kwa”, or “flower”, for the 7th through 10th ranks was changed to “Kin”, meaning “brocade”. Furthermore, a “middle” rank was added between the Upper and Lower ranks, further distinguishing each group, and adding 6 extra ranks. Finally, the initial rank, Risshin, was divided into two: Daiken and Shouken. We aren't told why, but it likely meant that they could have more granular distinctions in rank. At the same time that was going on, the court also awarded long swords to the senior members of the great families, and short swords to the senior members of lesser families. Below that, senior members of the Tomo no Miyatsuko and others were given shields and bows and arrows. Furthermore, the vassals, or kakibe, and the domestic retainers, or yakabe, were settled, to use Aston's translation. The kanji used in the text appears to refer to settling a decision or standardizing something, rather than settling as in giving a place to live. It seems to me to mean that the court was settling servants on families: determining what kind and how many servants that various houses could have based on their position in the hierarchy. I can't help but notice that all of these gifts were very martial in nature. That does not mean, of course, that they were necessarily because of the war over Baekje, nor that they were in response to the concern about a possible Tang invasion -- we've seen in the past where swords were gifted to people who had served the court --but it is hard not to connect these gifts with recent worries. We also know that this year, Naka no Oe turned his focus on building defenses, setting up guards and beacon fires on the islands of Tsushima and Iki. Should any unknown fleet be seen coming to the archipelago, the fires would alert the forces at Kyushu, so they could send word and prepare a defense. In addition, the court built an impressive defense for Tsukushi—for the Dazai itself, the seat of the Yamato government in Kyushu. It is called the Mizuki, or Water Castle, though at the time “castle” was more about walls and fortifications than the standalone fortress we tend to think of, today. Along those lines, the Mizuki was an earthen embankment, roughly 1.2 kilometers long, extending from a natural ridgeline to the west across the Mikasa river. Archeological evidence shows it had a moat, and this line of fortifications would have been a line of defense for the Dazai, should anyone try to invade. This construction was so large and impressive that you can still see it, even today. It stands out on the terrain, and it is even visible from overhead photographs. In the third month of 664, we are told that Prince Syeongwang of Baekje and his people, were given a residence at Naniwa. In fact, even though Baekje was no longer an independent kingdom, there appear to have been thousands of Baekje people now living in Yamato, unable to return home. Many of these were former nobles of the Baekje court, which Yamato treated as a foreign extension of its own. Resettling these people would be a major theme for the Chronicles, but we will also see, as we read further on, how their talents were leveraged for the state. Also in the third month, a star fell in the north—it says “in the north of the capital”, but I suspect that anywhere north, south, east, or west of the capital would have seen the same thing “in the north”. There was also an earthquake, which isn't given any particular significance, beyond its mention as a natural phenomenon. On the 17th day of the 5th month of 664, so roughly 2 months later, we are told that Liu Jen'yuan, the Tang dynasty's general in Baekje, sent Guo Wucong to Yamato with a letter and gifts. We aren't told the contents of the letter, but one imagines that this may have been a rather tense exchange. Yamato had just been involved in open warfare against Tang forces on the peninsula, and they still weren't sure if the Tang empire would come after them next. Their only real hope on that front was Goguryeo, since the Tang and Silla were still trying to destroy the Goguryeo kingdom, and that may have kept the Tang forces tied up for a while. No doubt Guo Wucong would have seen some of the defenses that Yamato was constructing during his visit. Guo Wucong would hang around for about seven and a half months. He was given permission to take his leave on the 4th day of the 10th month. Naka no Oe had his friend and Inner Prime Minister, Nakatomi no Kamatari send the Buddhist Priest, Chisho, with presents for Guo Wucong, and he and his officers were granted entertainments before they left as well. Finally, Guo Wucong and his people returned to the Tang on the 12th day of the 12th month. While the delegation from the Tang was in Yamato, we are told of several tragedies. First was that Soga no Murajiko no Oho-omi had passed away. Soga no Murajiko appears to have been another son of Soga no Kuramaro, and thus brother to Soga no Ishikawa no Maro. Unfortunately, we don't have much more on him in the record. Just a month later, we are told that the “Dowager Queen” Shima passed away. Aston translates this as the Queen Grandmother, suggesting that she was Naka no Oe's grandmother. We are also told, that in the 10th month of 664, around the time that Guo Wucong was given leave to depart, that Yeon Gaesomun, the Prime Minister—though perhaps more correctly the despotic ruler—of Goguryeo, died. It is said that he asked his children to remain united, but, well, even if we didn't know how it all turned out, I think we would look somewhat skeptically on any idea that they all did exactly as they were told. Sure enough, in 667 we are told that Gaesomun's eldest son, Namseng, left the capital city of Pyongyang to tour the provinces, and while he was gone his younger brothers conspired with the nobility, and when he came back they refused to let him back in. So Namseng ran off to the Tang court and apparently helped them destroy his own country. This is largely corroborated by other stories about Goguryeo, though the dates do seem to be off. Tang records put Gaesomun's death around 666 CE, which the Samguk Sagi appears to follow, but on his tomb the date would appear to be 665. Confusion like this was easy enough given the different dates and trying to cross-check across different regnal eras. Sure, there were some commonalities, but it was very easy to miscount something. One last note from the twelfth month of 664—it seems that there were omens of apparent prosperity that came to the court from the island of Awaji. First, there was rice that grew up in a farmer's pig trough. The farmer's name is given as Shinuta no Fumibito no Mu, and Mu gathered this rice and stored it up, and thus, every day his wealth increased. Then there was the bridal bed of Iwaki no Sukuri no Oho, of Kurimoto district. They claimed that rice grew up at the head of his brides' mattress during her first night's stay with him. And this wasn't just some brand new shoot, but overnight it formed an ear, and by the morning it bent down and ripened. Then, the following night, another ear was formed. When the bride went out into the courtyard, two keys fell down from heaven, and after she gave them to her husband, Oho, he went on to become a wealthy man. The exact purpose of these stories is unclear, but it seems to be that the Chroniclers are choosing to focus on stories of wealth and growth, which speak to how they wanted this reign as a whole, including the sovereign, to be remembered. However, more tragedy struck the following year, in 665, when Hashibito, another Dowager Queen – this time the wife of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou - passed away on the 25th day of the 2nd month. On the first day of the 3rd month, 330 people took Buddhist vows for her sake. We are also told that in the second month the ranks of Baekje were cross-referenced with the ranks of Yamato, and then ranks were given out to some of the Baekje nobles that had come over to Yamato. Kwisil Chipsa, who was originally ranked “Dalsol” in Baekje, was accorded “Lower Shoukin”. That was rank 12 of the 26. In comparison, “Dalsol” seems to have been the 2nd rank of 16 in Baekje. Along with handing out rank, over 400 Baekje commoners, both men and women, were given residence in the Kanzaki district in Afumi. This appears to be an area along the Aichi river, running from the Suzuka Mountains, west towards Lake Biwa. The court granted them rice-lands in the following month. At the same time, several high ranking Baekje nobles were put in charge of building castles at strategic points around the archipelago. These included one castle in Nagato, as well as the castles of Ohono and Woyogi, in Tsukushi. Two years later, in 667, we also see the building of Takayasu castle, in Yamato and Yashima castle in Yamada, in Sanuki—modern Kagawa, on Shikoku, facing the Seto Inland Sea passageway. Kaneda castle in Tsushima was also a Baekje-built one. We mentioned something about these castles last episode. They were in the Baekje style, and as I said, the term “castle” here is more about the walls, which were largely made of rammed earth ramparts. This means that you pile up earth and dirt in a layer and then the laborers use tools specifically to tamp it down until it is thick and hard. Then another layer is piled on top and the process is repeated. These walls were often placed on mountain tops, and they would follow the terrain, making them places that were easy to defend. Beyond that, they didn't necessarily have a donjon keep or anything like that—maybe a tower so that one could see a little further, but being at the top of a mountain usually provided all the visual cues that one needed. We know there were other castles made as well. For example, I mentioned last week about Kinojo, in Okayama, the ancient Kibi area. Kinojo is not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, but it clearly existed back then, and matches the general description of a 7th century mountain castle as built in Baekje. The name means Demon Castle, and there is a story about it that is connected to the local Kibitsu Jinja—the Shrine to Prince Kibi. According to legend, Kibitsu Hiko, aka Prince Kibitsu or, perhaps more appropriately, the Prince of Kibi, came to the area around the time of the Mimaki Iribiko, so probably about the 3rd century, at the head of a large force. Kibitsu Hiko had come to defeat the demon, Ura, who lived in the nearby castle, hence Kinojo, and legend says that he freed the people from the demon's rule. As I also mentioned, last week, this particular castle may have ended up in the Momotaro story. There are those who believe that the story of Momotarou is based on the story of Prince Kibitsu Hiko, and his defeat of the so-called demon, “Ura”. Certainly the story has grown more fantastical, and less connected to the ancient history of the Kibi region, but it still may have its origin in a much more standard legend of a founding prince of the ancient Kibi kingdom that was later changed into a fairy tale. More likely, the castle was built by a Baekje nobleman, often thought to be a prince, who settled in the area. There is the possibility that the demon's name “Ura” came from a mistranslation of his name, or it is also possible that he was unrelated to the story at all. The Kibitsu Hiko legend may have incorporated the castle, Kinojo, at a later date, once people had forgotten when and why the castle was actually built. It would make sense if Kinojo had been built as part of the defenses for Yamato, as that area overlooks a large part of the fertile plains of Okayama and out beyond Kojima to the Seto Inland Sea -- it is perched over a key overland route from the western edge of Honshu to Yamato, and there would have been several ways to signal boats to put to sea to intercept forces on the water. . This all suggests to me that Kinojo was probably part of Naka no Oe's castle-building effort, even if it isn't specifically remembered in the Chronicle. But building castles wasn't enough to bring peace of mind that Yamato would survive a Tang invasion, and it is possibly as a defensive measure that Naka no Oe would go on to do something truly incredible—he would eventually move the capital from Asuka and Naniwa all the way to the shores of Lake Biwa itself, establishing the Ohotsu palace. This was a truly extreme step that didn't endear Naka no Oe to the court, but it had several advantages. For one thing, this move pulled the capital further away from the sea routes, meaning that if they were attacked, they had a more defensible position. Even more so than Yamato, the Afumi region around Lake Biwa is surrounded by mountains, with a few narrow passes that restricted movement in and out. One of these is the famous Sekigahara, which remained a choke point even up to modern times. The name even means the Field of the Barrier, indicating the barrier and checkpoint that had been set up there in ancient times. Moving the capital also pulled the court away from some of the previous political centers, which may have been another feature that made it attractive to Naka no Oe. Many capital moves have been made, at least in part, to get farther away from strong Buddhist temples, and this certainly would have moved things out of the Asuka region, which by now was a hotbed of Buddhist temple activity. But we'll talk about that all more, next episode. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan
In this episode of DriveTime, Russ Stebbins, VP and GM, North American Aftermarket at PHINIA, talks about the company's vision to lead the transformation toward a sustainable, carbon-free future in the automotive aftermarket. The company has historically focused on internal combustion engine (ICE) solutions. It is now actively advancing new initiatives to support the industry's shift toward sustainability, Stebbins explained. Additionally, PHINIA is focusing on AI training for technicians.From OE Expertise to Aftermarket Agility PHINIA bases its approach on a philosophy of OE expertise and aftermarket agility. “We don't shy away from the fact that we're an OE company; rather we embrace it and take that to the aftermarket with the speed that's needed for our aftermarket channel partners,” Stebbins said.PHINIA is focused on delivering the right parts at the right time, supported by relevant training and information for its channel partners down to the technician. Multilingual Support in 2025 PHINIA sees future growth in Canada, Mexico and Central America.In 2025, it will launch websites for French Canadian and Mexican Spanish-speaking audiences. Additionally, innovation remains a priority, especially through the integration of AI, explained Stebbins. Driving Global Innovation Through AI Training for Technicians PHINIA is launching global AI-driven training programs. These will let the company create content in one language and translate it easily for global technician education. To hear more about PHINIA's initiatives, be sure to watch the video above. Episode Overview: • Stebbins' career and how he landed at PHINIA (1:10);• PHINIA's vision and value proposition to customers across the North American aftermarket (3:22);• How PHINIA is strengthening customer relationships (6:56);• Details about how PHINIA is leveraging emerging technologies to become a more recognized and trusted name in the aftermarket (13:36);• Insights into the Delphi Training Academy (19:14);• Lightning Round (22:29).
*sneezes* W-WEGMANS! Gazuntite. I'm not gonna lie, if I lived closer to this place I'd be there all the time. Whole Foods Trader Joe's Wegmans. Honestly? Ranked? Trader Joe's Wegmans Wegmans. lol. Whole Foods is a necessary evil. {Enter The Multiverse} No, I want the half Can't go all the way Enough is enough And a hand is a hand And a handout is ransom, Spare me the note Spare me the selfish suicide concepts Spare me the alter The coaxial The collar The caller— Whatever you call me Spare me the mantras Stop talking. Long throat violence, Oh, I onkybhope to know you (Or I don't) I only hope to notice m Oh long Johnson Quick sermons and a few soft passwords A couple ardvsrks on a long top showman A couple bad barks from the dog And work for the foreman Who are you after (Not god) Have been forgiven? Is fhat a question. I marked it as such And still j walked up The lock in the bathtub did honors Did honors Did run today Who are you for Not the office Not the John Not the forerunner Oe the forward Who are you, god talker? Who are you Was often the question asked And you want to do all you want Home alone The devil runs From behind her nothing soft Anymore Awkward And then unearthed I saw you were watched, stalking Also Pulled back on my reigns, the horse Does bit the bite down And then some soaked offer Was Half you are, where Wear the volume down Wear your art hard Or suffer, Gaga! GAGA WHERE ARE YOU? LADY GAGA I'M ON A HORSE target GAGA! LADY GAGA I'M ON A HORSE, I SAID. BUT WHERE?! NEAR ENOUGH THET YOU CAN HEAR ME, LIKE, OBVIOUSLY, BUT FAR ENOUGH AWAY THAT YOU CAN'T SEE ME ON A HORSE. ARE YOU COMING?! NEGATIVE. WELL— WHY NOT?! THE HORSE WONT MOVE! JUMP OFF THEN. IMPOSSIBLE. WHY IS JUMPING OFF A HORSE IMPOSSIBLE WHEN YOURE LADY GAGA ITS BECAUSE I'M LADY GAGA THAT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR MULTIPLE REASONS WHAT— JUMP OFF OF THE— NEGATIVE. THERE ARE MULTIPLE FACTORS CONTRIBUTING TO THIS IMPOSSIBILITY. WHY ARE THEY YELLING. Omg shut up 2 bit horse jumper Target Target Stalker Stalker Obi wan kanobi! Sheeeeeeer forces! What is this? Bad cheerleaders. WHY ARE WE YELLING?! Oh. We're fighting. Oh, that makes sense, What kind of fighting. Sword— unh— FIGHTING. Oh, okay. Why is lady Gaga on a horse?! Cause she's just like that sometimes. *shrugs, but on a horse— obviously dressed elaborately enough that yes, jumping off of the horse would be practically LADY GAGA No, completely. —Completely impossible. I wanna watch you eat spicy hot wings. In a sweater. But I left handed magic to Can't- that Cancelled I hope it was cashmere Or Calvin Klein I'll retract, Meditate and then Redact that Maybe Fantasize Glamourize that for a lifetime Pull the knife out of my back, And then sample it. I wanna watch you eat hotwings. That's—- What I want. GAGA. PLEASE! LADY GAGA I'm sorry— he's not moving. THIS IS URGENT. LADY GAGA I know it's urgent. My lack of yelling does not negate that it isn't, but. BUT WHAT? *yawns* I'm getting sleepy. [LADY GAGA falls asleep atop the horse; only then does the horse begin to move, however— it appears as though GAGA is now completely unconscious. But those shoes. Egad. Bro. lol. Why is this? I'm… my writers blocks are not fun, practical, or progressive. They're just. [LADY GAGA fights and defeats an entire battle completely unconscious atop a horse.] Isn't technically the horse… fighting. No, and I'll explain to you why. Omgz *spoiler* [lady Gaga IS the horse] Why. What the fuck. Fuck these shapeshifters. Fuck everything right now. What the fuck did I just watch. WHAT DID I JUST SEEEEEEEEEE Dedede…fleetleum, fleetleflum… “Fleedleflum?” Ahem!? Dude, you are a villain. WHAT, BECAUSE I SAID “FLEETLEFLUM” *fleedleflum AHEM! I SETH MEYERS is revealed as the villain… Again. WHAT! WHY! I THOUGHT I WAS THE VILLAIN. you said you didn't want it! THEN I ADJUSTED. Well, too late. WHAT. Nice. Hehe. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK! I WENT METHOD. A-for effort, I guess? WHATEVER A-FOR-EFFORT. I JUST COMMITTED A LOT OF EVIL SHIT For what FOR THEATRICAL AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. Well. “WELL?” Like what. Like— Tax Fraud. Ahem. Nice. [beat] Seth, you got the part. Yesssss! Booyah. Maybe you can take some method lessons and pointers from your friend here— Salt of the earth! — Mr. Evil tax fraud man. RYAN REYNOLDS *deflates* Later. Where are you going? I'm going to do Pilates. Because I'm rich. (Everyone just kind of nods in agreement.) L E G E N D S STEPHEN COLBERT runs at full speed down the street towards the house at which his formerly youthful self “recently” disappeared during a thunderstorm. Oh look. It's little Stevie! You recognize me?! OF COURSE I DO! You're the big hotshot anchorman on TV, but I remember… I don't have—time— Suddenly, he sees it— the radio tower which apparently transported him into this, a distant future, but also a remarkably odd parallel of reality which seems to have been sprung from his own timeline. Where is this going? We'll see. Apparently, I'm reanimated; Certain parts just don't work, I'm factory reset And radiated Aggrandized to carry out this task And then cease to be A zombie, if you will A corpse responding to light energy inside of me So when I leave, I'm not sleeping I'm decomposing Deteriorating I stay hydrated to keep my eyes involved In the light almost as if The illusion is existence— However, I know better It's simply a simulation I mutated against my better judgement Just for this focus Aspirations as if Aggressions could be achiviments At any rate A talking head Who are you? Done for now. Who are you! Done for now. Who are you? A far cry Dust in the wind, And I'm sure so for aure That the places I've been Are more often television location sequences Than not. Aha, who are you? The plot. Then who are I? A handsome damsel. Hark. But not to wake, I form again To dream of you And then Cease to be, My honor, So that may I call To wish a gasp upon a cantered breath, I scream to wake And then you, a glisten, Never to count time I waking, Them as sheep, And she who calls I— There, the canter, And there I wake to know I, Call I, My bare and lay truth So that There waking, calls I now The scream of shadow Mercy, yonder But not waiting, I cherish To bark. …. …. Wt— Now I could see how my energy was moving; I had to write as much as I could before my media update. Intentional brainwash. Suddenly, it all made me so nervous. Programming. Then again, It didn't matter, really, in the end. 6 hours. There was nothing more daunting Than the approaching courier for Whole Foods market And Instacart simultaneously because it meant Somehow, That I had an album coming out. Eagle eye, And to say the brown soul May go extinct Eagle eye Give me a bite of your Adam's Apple I want to taste you I want to know fortune Through the glory of love In the wonder of your arms I want to know nothing but Love in your eyes And in your mind, My heart MAYA RUDOLPH I feel weird. FRED … ARMISEN This is getting intense. That's probably it. AMY POEH—LER No. AMY PH— No. OF COURSE IT IS. ITS SUPPOSED TO BE. why are you yelling? IM NOT YELLING. I'M SPEAKING IN CAPITAL LETTERS. TINA FEY …there's a difference! RACHEL WITH A ‘T'? Maybe DRATCH YEAH there IS. Okay, where are we going with this? Shh. Not yet. I AM PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG. WHY? It's sketch comedy. Does it HAVE to have motive? You're right— but it at least has to have a plot. Meanwhile… SETH MEYERS'S wand has been stolen. Hey. Yes? There was..a… ??? There was a, like a— like a — ?? There was like, a number two pencil here. …there still is. No, like a very— like, a specific— There's— a bunch of them here. No— Just like always. No, it's. [Blank stares] N—nevermind. Wait— What's up. 1, 2, 3, 4– who am I forgetting? ARSENIO HALL Not yet, Arsenio; We're still on strike force 5! Where's Jimmy Kimmel! Meanwhile, in Jimmy Kimmel's lair. JIMMY KIMMEL (MWAHAHA MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH) Uh. Wow. Yeah. Okay. For Shits and giggles— Oma goash. Waw. Yah. I knuh. Just waw. Uhh… Idk. The weird SNL sketches all apparently have their own time— AANG APPA, YIP YIP! APPA FUCK OFF— WOAH. OKAY. Yeah, not everything should be live action. Seconded. — lines…. Ahem. Waw. Srsly. However, this live action magic school bus. [SCHOOL BUS CARAPULTING TOWADS FIREY DEMISE WITH NO POSSIBLE RESOLVE IN SIGHT]. *doom* Wild. Why. Yoooooo. The world needed that. Anyway. JIMMY KIMMEL MWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GUILLERMO JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJA JIMMY KIMMEL MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GUELLERMO Wait— —is that his name? Maybe. I might just be racist. Well, it's not Carlos. U MEANWHILE, ALSO, ON WISTERIA LANE GABBI CARLOS! GET BACK HERE! Damn. How are these people still at it? Apparently wer're in TV WORLD. Ahem. It's TV LAND. No, it's {Enter The Multiverse} AHEM. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2025 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. [REDACTED]
*sneezes* W-WEGMANS! Gazuntite. I'm not gonna lie, if I lived closer to this place I'd be there all the time. Whole Foods Trader Joe's Wegmans. Honestly? Ranked? Trader Joe's Wegmans Wegmans. lol. Whole Foods is a necessary evil. {Enter The Multiverse} No, I want the half Can't go all the way Enough is enough And a hand is a hand And a handout is ransom, Spare me the note Spare me the selfish suicide concepts Spare me the alter The coaxial The collar The caller— Whatever you call me Spare me the mantras Stop talking. Long throat violence, Oh, I onkybhope to know you (Or I don't) I only hope to notice m Oh long Johnson Quick sermons and a few soft passwords A couple ardvsrks on a long top showman A couple bad barks from the dog And work for the foreman Who are you after (Not god) Have been forgiven? Is fhat a question. I marked it as such And still j walked up The lock in the bathtub did honors Did honors Did run today Who are you for Not the office Not the John Not the forerunner Oe the forward Who are you, god talker? Who are you Was often the question asked And you want to do all you want Home alone The devil runs From behind her nothing soft Anymore Awkward And then unearthed I saw you were watched, stalking Also Pulled back on my reigns, the horse Does bit the bite down And then some soaked offer Was Half you are, where Wear the volume down Wear your art hard Or suffer, Gaga! GAGA WHERE ARE YOU? LADY GAGA I'M ON A HORSE target GAGA! LADY GAGA I'M ON A HORSE, I SAID. BUT WHERE?! NEAR ENOUGH THET YOU CAN HEAR ME, LIKE, OBVIOUSLY, BUT FAR ENOUGH AWAY THAT YOU CAN'T SEE ME ON A HORSE. ARE YOU COMING?! NEGATIVE. WELL— WHY NOT?! THE HORSE WONT MOVE! JUMP OFF THEN. IMPOSSIBLE. WHY IS JUMPING OFF A HORSE IMPOSSIBLE WHEN YOURE LADY GAGA ITS BECAUSE I'M LADY GAGA THAT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR MULTIPLE REASONS WHAT— JUMP OFF OF THE— NEGATIVE. THERE ARE MULTIPLE FACTORS CONTRIBUTING TO THIS IMPOSSIBILITY. WHY ARE THEY YELLING. Omg shut up 2 bit horse jumper Target Target Stalker Stalker Obi wan kanobi! Sheeeeeeer forces! What is this? Bad cheerleaders. WHY ARE WE YELLING?! Oh. We're fighting. Oh, that makes sense, What kind of fighting. Sword— unh— FIGHTING. Oh, okay. Why is lady Gaga on a horse?! Cause she's just like that sometimes. *shrugs, but on a horse— obviously dressed elaborately enough that yes, jumping off of the horse would be practically LADY GAGA No, completely. —Completely impossible. I wanna watch you eat spicy hot wings. In a sweater. But I left handed magic to Can't- that Cancelled I hope it was cashmere Or Calvin Klein I'll retract, Meditate and then Redact that Maybe Fantasize Glamourize that for a lifetime Pull the knife out of my back, And then sample it. I wanna watch you eat hotwings. That's—- What I want. GAGA. PLEASE! LADY GAGA I'm sorry— he's not moving. THIS IS URGENT. LADY GAGA I know it's urgent. My lack of yelling does not negate that it isn't, but. BUT WHAT? *yawns* I'm getting sleepy. [LADY GAGA falls asleep atop the horse; only then does the horse begin to move, however— it appears as though GAGA is now completely unconscious. But those shoes. Egad. Bro. lol. Why is this? I'm… my writers blocks are not fun, practical, or progressive. They're just. [LADY GAGA fights and defeats an entire battle completely unconscious atop a horse.] Isn't technically the horse… fighting. No, and I'll explain to you why. Omgz *spoiler* [lady Gaga IS the horse] Why. What the fuck. Fuck these shapeshifters. Fuck everything right now. What the fuck did I just watch. WHAT DID I JUST SEEEEEEEEEE Dedede…fleetleum, fleetleflum… “Fleedleflum?” Ahem!? Dude, you are a villain. WHAT, BECAUSE I SAID “FLEETLEFLUM” *fleedleflum AHEM! I SETH MEYERS is revealed as the villain… Again. WHAT! WHY! I THOUGHT I WAS THE VILLAIN. you said you didn't want it! THEN I ADJUSTED. Well, too late. WHAT. Nice. Hehe. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK! I WENT METHOD. A-for effort, I guess? WHATEVER A-FOR-EFFORT. I JUST COMMITTED A LOT OF EVIL SHIT For what FOR THEATRICAL AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. Well. “WELL?” Like what. Like— Tax Fraud. Ahem. Nice. [beat] Seth, you got the part. Yesssss! Booyah. Maybe you can take some method lessons and pointers from your friend here— Salt of the earth! — Mr. Evil tax fraud man. RYAN REYNOLDS *deflates* Later. Where are you going? I'm going to do Pilates. Because I'm rich. (Everyone just kind of nods in agreement.) L E G E N D S STEPHEN COLBERT runs at full speed down the street towards the house at which his formerly youthful self “recently” disappeared during a thunderstorm. Oh look. It's little Stevie! You recognize me?! OF COURSE I DO! You're the big hotshot anchorman on TV, but I remember… I don't have—time— Suddenly, he sees it— the radio tower which apparently transported him into this, a distant future, but also a remarkably odd parallel of reality which seems to have been sprung from his own timeline. Where is this going? We'll see. Apparently, I'm reanimated; Certain parts just don't work, I'm factory reset And radiated Aggrandized to carry out this task And then cease to be A zombie, if you will A corpse responding to light energy inside of me So when I leave, I'm not sleeping I'm decomposing Deteriorating I stay hydrated to keep my eyes involved In the light almost as if The illusion is existence— However, I know better It's simply a simulation I mutated against my better judgement Just for this focus Aspirations as if Aggressions could be achiviments At any rate A talking head Who are you? Done for now. Who are you! Done for now. Who are you? A far cry Dust in the wind, And I'm sure so for aure That the places I've been Are more often television location sequences Than not. Aha, who are you? The plot. Then who are I? A handsome damsel. Hark. But not to wake, I form again To dream of you And then Cease to be, My honor, So that may I call To wish a gasp upon a cantered breath, I scream to wake And then you, a glisten, Never to count time I waking, Them as sheep, And she who calls I— There, the canter, And there I wake to know I, Call I, My bare and lay truth So that There waking, calls I now The scream of shadow Mercy, yonder But not waiting, I cherish To bark. …. …. Wt— Now I could see how my energy was moving; I had to write as much as I could before my media update. Intentional brainwash. Suddenly, it all made me so nervous. Programming. Then again, It didn't matter, really, in the end. 6 hours. There was nothing more daunting Than the approaching courier for Whole Foods market And Instacart simultaneously because it meant Somehow, That I had an album coming out. Eagle eye, And to say the brown soul May go extinct Eagle eye Give me a bite of your Adam's Apple I want to taste you I want to know fortune Through the glory of love In the wonder of your arms I want to know nothing but Love in your eyes And in your mind, My heart MAYA RUDOLPH I feel weird. FRED … ARMISEN This is getting intense. That's probably it. AMY POEH—LER No. AMY PH— No. OF COURSE IT IS. ITS SUPPOSED TO BE. why are you yelling? IM NOT YELLING. I'M SPEAKING IN CAPITAL LETTERS. TINA FEY …there's a difference! RACHEL WITH A ‘T'? Maybe DRATCH YEAH there IS. Okay, where are we going with this? Shh. Not yet. I AM PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG. WHY? It's sketch comedy. Does it HAVE to have motive? You're right— but it at least has to have a plot. Meanwhile… SETH MEYERS'S wand has been stolen. Hey. Yes? There was..a… ??? There was a, like a— like a — ?? There was like, a number two pencil here. …there still is. No, like a very— like, a specific— There's— a bunch of them here. No— Just like always. No, it's. [Blank stares] N—nevermind. Wait— What's up. 1, 2, 3, 4– who am I forgetting? ARSENIO HALL Not yet, Arsenio; We're still on strike force 5! Where's Jimmy Kimmel! Meanwhile, in Jimmy Kimmel's lair. JIMMY KIMMEL (MWAHAHA MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH) Uh. Wow. Yeah. Okay. For Shits and giggles— Oma goash. Waw. Yah. I knuh. Just waw. Uhh… Idk. The weird SNL sketches all apparently have their own time— AANG APPA, YIP YIP! APPA FUCK OFF— WOAH. OKAY. Yeah, not everything should be live action. Seconded. — lines…. Ahem. Waw. Srsly. However, this live action magic school bus. [SCHOOL BUS CARAPULTING TOWADS FIREY DEMISE WITH NO POSSIBLE RESOLVE IN SIGHT]. *doom* Wild. Why. Yoooooo. The world needed that. Anyway. JIMMY KIMMEL MWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GUILLERMO JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJA JIMMY KIMMEL MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GUELLERMO Wait— —is that his name? Maybe. I might just be racist. Well, it's not Carlos. U MEANWHILE, ALSO, ON WISTERIA LANE GABBI CARLOS! GET BACK HERE! Damn. How are these people still at it? Apparently wer're in TV WORLD. Ahem. It's TV LAND. No, it's {Enter The Multiverse} AHEM. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2025 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. [REDACTED]
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon has met with King Charles III at Buckingham Palace in London, just hours after the death of Pope Francis. Luxon confirmed he spoke to the King about the death of the Pope during his meeting, but would not divulge further details. A spokesperson for the Prime Minister said Luxon “enjoyed discussing New Zealand issues with the King”. Luxon said discussions with British Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer in coming days will revolve around the Ukraine-Russia war and trade. He and Starmer will travel to meet New Zealand soldiers who are training Ukrainian troops. “I certainly welcome any efforts around just and lasting peace for Ukraine … we'll keep discussing options about being involved in peacekeeping support once the conflict concludes. “We, as a small country with limited resources a long way away, aren't going to be the ones to end that war, obviously … but, regardless, we stand beside our set of values which we think Ukraine, Zelensky, embodies.” Luxon said trade would also be a hot topic given the UK had recently become NZ's seventh-largest trading partner. “We just need to keep pushing forward on it and keep pushing food and beverage and tourism.” King Charles had a busy few days ahead of Luxon's arrival, with various Easter-related events. Late last week, he attended the annual Maundy Service, during which he awarded gifts to individuals in recognition of outstanding Christian service. Maundy Thursday takes place on the Thursday prior to Easter and commemorates the Washing of the Feet and the Last Supper of Jesus Christ. On Easter Sunday, Charles was joined by other members of the royal family at St George's Chapel in Windsor for a traditional church service. In his Easter message, the King said: “The abiding message of Easter is that God so loved the world – the whole world – that He sent His son to live among us to show us how to love one another, and to lay down His own life for others in a love that proved stronger than death. “There are three virtues that the world still needs – faith, hope and love. ‘And the greatest of these is love'. It is with these timeless truths in my mind, and my heart, that I wish you all a blessed and peaceful Easter.” Luxon met with the King for the first time at the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Samoa in October. The Prime Minister gave away little about what the pair discussed during that meeting, but said it was obvious King Charles had a “deep, deep affection for New Zealand” and was “very knowledgeable about a number of issues”. “It was a very natural conversation; it was just the two of us sitting outside and having a chat on a couple of seats.” This is Luxon's first visit to the UK as Prime Minister. He touched down late on Sunday night (NZT). Ahead of the trip, Luxon highlighted that trade was likely to be a key talking point. “New Zealand is a champion for free trade, and I look forward to talking to Sir Keir Starmer about what our countries can do together to support the rules-based trading system,” Luxon said. “The UK is one of NZ's closest and most trusted partners, and, for many Kiwis, it is where they base themselves on their OE. The UK is also important to NZ's prosperity. Our exports there grew by more than 20% in 2024 and are still growing.” Two-way trade with the UK, which NZ signed a free-trade agreement with in 2022, was worth $7.27 billion in the year ending December 2024, making it our seventh-largest trading partner. LISTEN ABOVE See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
This episode is a bit long--we are talking about the last elements of the reign of Takara Hime, the fall of Baekje, and the attempt to restore the kingdom, which culminated in the Battle of Hakusukinoe, aka the Battle of Baekgang. For more, check out our blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-124 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 124: The Battle of Haku-suki-no-e. Echi no Takutsu looked out from where he stood on the deck of his ship. The horizon seemed to bob up and down, but he knew that was just an illusion caused by the waves. And upon those waves, hundreds of Yamato ships floated, ready to do battle. As a veteran of this and other wars, Takutsu was used to surveying flotillas of ships, and yet, none of his years of experience had quite had this kind of impact upon him. Yamato's ally, Baekje, had fallen in battle to the combined might of the Tang and Silla forces, and now they were assisting a band of rebels who were trying to once again restore their kingdom. Silla was, of course, an all too common adversary for the Yamato court, but the Tang: now that was another matter. The Tang dynasty had only grown in the four and a half decades since it was founded. They had destroyed their enemies and continued to expand. They had defeated the Gokturks and expanded into the heart of Eurasia. Even in cases like Goguryeo, who had so far managed to hold out against their attacks, it was clear that they had an effect. The Tang dynasty was the superpower of its day, and for whatever airs Yamato may have put on, they were still a backwater in comparison. And yet, on this day, that backwater seemed, by all rights, to have the upper hand. In response to the destruction of Baekje, Yamato had marshalled all of their forces. Their boats greatly outnumbered those of their opponents, and if they could defeat the Tang navy, then they could make landfall and connect with the remaining Baekje forces attempting to restore their kingdom. And so here they were, at the mouth of the Baengma River, also known as the Baekgang, or, in Japanese, the Haku-suki-no-e. The Tang forces were bottled up, and the greater Yamato forces seemed poised to take them out. The only problem was that the river mouth narrowed quickly, so that only a few ships could attack at any given time. Still, with overwhelming numbers, Echi no Takutsu and his fellow soldiers expected that they would still be able to overcome their enemies and place their allies back in control of their territory. With confidence in their victory, the Yamato ships sailed forward, prepared to crush their enemies, and restore Baekje… Greetings, everyone, and welcome back. As you may have figured out we are still in the later half of the 7th century. During the last episode we talked about the embassy to the Tang dynasty court that got delayed—placed under house arrest for a year—because the Tang dynasty was conducting their special military operations over on the Korean peninsula. That was in the year 660. Specifically, the Tang were working in conjunction with Silla to destroy the Kingdom of Baekje, and they even returned to the Tang capital with prisoners, including the royal family and many high-ranking nobles. That they didn't want the ambassadors leaving, and presumably informing Baekje on their way back, would seem to speak to the strong ties between Baekje and Yamato. After all, several times in the Nihon Shoki we have seen where the Baekje royal line was endangered and a prince that had been living at the Yamato court was brought across the strait with Yamato support to place them back on the throne. This episode, we are going to look a little closer at what happened on the peninsula and what happened when news of the event reached the Yamato court. This would culminate in one of the most famous naval battles in east Asia—certainly one of the most famous in Japanese history. It is recorded in records from various sides, so unlike many of the raids on Silla, and other conflicts on the peninsula, we have multiple accounts documenting it, and if the Japanese account is to be believed than it may have been among the largest naval conflicts in the world at that time. So let me take you through what the Chronicles have to say up until the battle and then we can talk about what happened and a little bit about what it would mean for Yamato in the years to come. We'll start a bit before the conflict, while Baekje was still going strong. The Chronicles are filled with portents and omens, and of course, they already knew what had happened. Still, let's talk about some of what they mentioned leading up to the battle, as well as some of the remaining accounts demonstrating the cross-strait exchanges. We'll start in 655, the year after Takara Hime had assumed the throne, being given the name Saimei Tennou by the Chroniclers. On the first day of the 5th month we are told that a “man of Tang” was seen riding a dragon in the sky. He is described as wearing a broad hat of blue—or green—oiled cloth. He rode fast from the peak of Mt. Katsuraki and disappeared on Mt. Ikoma. At noon he galloped over the pines of Sumiyoshi and disappeared into the west. This is obviously a fantastical story, but let's talk about what we can. It is hard not to see in this some of the importance that the Tang dynasty would play in this reign, especially given the fact that this occurred in the first year after Takara hime had ascended the throne. It would seem to have been meant here as an omen. I have not seen specific comments about this, though I'm sure someone has looked into it. But for me, I am struck by the fact this person was, first and foremost, identifiable as Tang, likely meaning because of his clothing. And he was riding a dragon. Dragons were known in Japan, but not quite as popular in folklore as they are shown to be on the mainland. The Dragon was the imperial symbol of the Tang and other dynasties. Japan had its own stories of dragon kings and other such things, but in this case I can't imagine that the connection with the imperial throne would be ignored. The hat is also interesting. The color is listed as “blue” though Aston translates this as “green”. The term “aoi” was used for any color on the spectrum from blue to green. In fact, it is still the case that the “green” light on a Japanese traffic signal is still referred to as “blue”. There were more specific colors, but the word “midori” would have been more like a specific word, like “teal”, “cerulean”, or “aquamarine”, rather than a core color like we would use blue, yellow, or, in this case, green. The fact that it was made of oiled stuff suggests to me that it was waterproofed. It is noted specifically with the character for “kasa”, which typically refers to a wide brimmed hat used to keep the rain off. I suspect that in this case it was the kind of hat that we often see on Tang dynasty figurines of riders. They often have a tall, wide-brimmed hat, often with drape of sheer fabric around the edge. This kind of hat would eventually be popular in Japan amongst traveling noblewomen, as it helped keep them out of the sun and away from the bugs and, well, it also acted as a barrier between the them and the rest of the world. The versions seen on the Tang figurines are usually somewhat short, probably just enough to obscure the face, and may have helped to cut down on glare. These often aren't obviously oiled, but that certainly could have been the case, and that may have been another method of protecting travelers from anything that nature could throw at them. It does seem a very particular image. The course of the rider is somewhat interesting. From Katsuraki, on the southwestern edge of the Nara basin, north to Mt. Ikoma. Then west to Sumiyoshi and off to the far west—in other words, back to the Tang dynasty. Sumiyoshi is also of particular interest. The pines of Sumiyoshi are a particular poetic trope, or utamakura. They help to conjure famous imagery of a place, and so it is hardly surprising that they would be found in this context. In this case I suspect that is the main reason they are mentioned. However, Sumiyoshi also has its own importance. Sumiyoshi was once on the seashore, and Sumiyoshi was a common shrine for travelers to pray at for safe travels. In fact, there are Sumiyoshi shrines across the archipelago that all are tied back to the Sumiyoshi in the modern Ohosaka area, and they often found near the shore as places where travelers could pray for safe passage before they headed off on the sea. And so it would make sense that the rider would head off over Sumiyoshi and to the west, much as the various ambassadors would travel off to the west. There may be more to it, but I suspect that this was either referencing the growing links between Yamato and the Tang, or perhaps simply referring to the various kentoushi—the ambassadors who crossed the seas to the Tang court and brought back so much to the archipelago. The next obvious omen seems to come in 657. In this case it was a white fox seen in the land of Iwami. It was mentioned in the same record as when ambassadors Adzumi no Tsuratari and Tsu no Kutsuma came back from the Western Seas via Baekje. It isn't clear that the two are connected, though. Perhaps there is something I'm missing. It is notable that this seems to be the only mention of Iwami that I could find, at least doing a quick search for the characters in the electronic version of the text. Iwami is the land to the west of Izumo, on the western end of modern Shimane prefecture, and the western end of the San'in-do, along the northern edge of western Honshu. It is a mountainous region on the edge of the Japan Sea, the Nihonkai. We've talked about many of the other accounts after that, until the following year, 658. We have a note about a south-pointing chariot, which we'll discuss in a later episode, but that was clearly another connection to continental technologies. After that we have an account from Izumo. Huge numbers of dead fish were washing ashore, up to three feet, or roughly a meter, deep. The fish were apparently the size of a pufferfish, with beaks like a sparrow and thorny scales, several inches long. I wonder if, by the description, they could be referring to triggerfish or parrotfish, which are found in the Japan Sea. Fish kills, or mass die-offs, are unfortunate events that occasionally happen for a variety of reasons. The most common is actually asphyxiation—algae blooms or other such events that eat up the oxygen, causing fish to die off in an area. Fish kills might also happen because of disease, undersea quakes, and other factors. Of course, to anyone in Izumo, this would have been a terribly random event. I can't tell whether or not it was an omen, but it certainly could have been. If so, I doubt it would have been a very good one. The strange fish that were brought up were called “sparrow fish” by the locals. They believed they were sparrows that had gone to the ocean and turned into fish. Immediately after that, in the Chronicle, we get a somewhat odd entry in that it seems out of place. We are told that Baekje had sent to Japan requesting aid. Tang and Silla had teamed up and captured King Wicha, his queen, and the heir to the throne. It is probably notable that this is written as “one book says”. Also, recall that dates were still somewhat problematic at this time. They were based on the regnal years of the monarch or the dates according to the sexagesimal cycle, either of which could have been off, particularly at this time, in different sources. I suspect that the fact that they mention it as “one book says” indicates that even the compilers of the Nihon Shoki weren't quite sure that this was in the right spot, but it was an account of what did eventually happen—just not until two years later. This position is bolstered by the fact that the next account talks about how Azumi no Muarji no Tsuratari had returned from what was apparently another trip to the Western Seas and Baekje, just a year after the previous. Again, this could be the same expedition, with accounts misplacing the dates, or with dates according to when he left and others when he arrived back. Still, it brings us yet another omen. Apparently, around this point, Baekje had been successful against Silla. This is a good reminder that Baekje was not exactly an innocent bystander in everything that had happened. King Wicha was rather famous in his own day, seen as a paragon of courage, largely because he was taking the fight to Silla, often allying with Goguryeo to block Silla from their access to the Tang and others. Silla, who had been adopting Tang culture and style, and even claimed some distant descent from ethnic Han immigrants during the time of the Han commandries on the peninsula, were still able to forge close ties with the Tang, who seemed to preference them over Baekje and Goguryeo. This may have been part of the general diplomatic game of the Middle Kingdom going back to the Han times, where they would often look to ally with those states beyond the immediate border states, so that those on their immediate border would have to defend themselves on two fronts. This was likely more aimed at Goguryeo than Baekje, at least initially, but the alliance meant that Baekje, whom the Tang regularly chastised for their actions against Silla, was also in the crosshairs. However, up through 658, it seems Baekje's actions were largely successful. Both the Baekje and Silla annals mention attacks by Baekje against the country of Silla in the following year, which otherwise correlate with the record in the Nihon Shoki. Here we should remember that the author of the Samguk Sagi, which preserved these records, was writing centuries later, and had a clear pro-Silla bias. There are several years missing from the Baekje annals at this time, but the idea that Baekje was attacking Silla is hardly controversial. In the Silla Annals, in 659, we also get word that Silla sent envoys to the Tang court protesting Baekje's aggression and asking the Tang court for aid. Aid that would soon come, unbeknownst to others—even Silla wasn't quite sure until they showed up. And this is likely why the Nihon Shoki records a strange incident in Baekje, where a horse, of its own accord, started circling the Golden Hall of a Buddhist temple in the Baekje capital, continuing day and night, and stopping only to graze. In some regions, walking around a sacred temple or stupa was considered a particular form of prayer, and perhaps the horse knew something and was trying to make merit. In the text we are told explicitly what this meant: the downfall of Baekje was nigh, and it would fall in the coming year, 660. In a similar fashion, the Baekje annals, and the Samguk Yusa, likely pulling from the same sources, go through a series of omens, from birds to fish, to various ghosts, all saying that Baekje was about to fall. The annals at this point paint Wicha as consumed with the material world and debauchery, likely a largely later indictment to add a moral explanation to the events that would soon occur. In Yamato, there were other omens as well. Things were not entirely well in the Yamato capital. Remember, this was Takara Hime's second reign, and her son was fully grown, himself, so she was no spring chicken. On the 13th day of the 7th month of the year 659, she had the ministers expound the Urabon sutra in all the temples in Asuka and had a requital made to the ancestors for 7 generations. We are also told that in that same year, the Miyatsuko of Izumo was made to repair the Itsuki god's shrine. I have to wonder if these were to help make merit, or were just regular occurrences, but we are also told that fox bit at the head of a creeper that a man was carrying and ran off with it, and a dog found a dead man's hand and forearm and dropped them at Ifuya shrine. The chroniclers claim these omens were not about Baekje, but rather about Takara Hime herself—claiming that she was not long for this world. It is good to remember that it is only now that we can look back and see where things were leading. At the time, nobody really knew what the future held, and business went on as normal. The omens and portents were all well and good, but they are being interpreted after the fact. There is no indication that people were telling Takara Hime that her time was about to come. This is illustrated by the fact that there are plenty of regular accounts in here as well. We have a few episodes that actually reference the “shiguma”—the polar bear or the brown bear—and Gogureyo. The first is of Goguryeo merchants—likely part of an embassy—trying to sell a shiguma fur in the local markets for 60 pounds of floss silk, a price that was apparently laughable, as the market commissioner turned them down. And here I'll digress briefly because this is rather a remarkable entry, even though it seems like almost nothing, because it demonstrates something we rarely see but often suspect. For all that the ambassadors to various courts were performing their diplomatic functions, they were also there to trade. This is part of how they funded the journey. They would bring some goods for the court and the sovereign, of course, and hopefully get as much or more in return. But they would also trade in the local markets. This is probably part of what the embassy to the Tang was doing when they made landfall and then stayed put for a month or so. I suspect they were working with the local government to ship off the tribute, but also availing themselves of the local markets. You didn't necessarily exchange currency, but you would sell your trade goods and that would likely help fund the embassy for the time they were in the country, at least for anything the host nation didn't provide. It is also interesting that we talk of a market commissioner. We've mentioned markets before, and their existence is likely more than just a random assortment of shops with goods to sell. They were overseen by local officials, and they would have been regulated to some extent by the larger state, probably with taxes and other goods making their way up to the government. I don't know that we have a clear idea of what it looked like until later, and so an entry like this just gives us a little hint at what was going on in the day to day administration of the entire country. Continuing with the shiguma theme, apparently a painter named Komaro—a Japanese name, but he's described as a “Goguryeo” painter, which could mean that he trained in Goguryeo, or came from there and changed his name. It is also possible, I supposed, that he was simply trained in the Goguryeo style. Anyway, he was apparently quite successful because he entertained guests from his own uji—his own surname—and so borrowed 70 official shiguma skins for them to sit on. Apparently this was a garish display that left the guests astonished and ashamed to even be part of the event, so they went away. So sitting on fur rugs was apparently not a thing to do—or perhaps just not that many. But I would note that he apparently borrowed them from the government—they were “official” after all. So what was the government doing with them? They were probably tribute from the Emishi in the north, or perhaps just the result of regular trade. And Komaro must have had some pull to be able to request them for his own private use. Unfortunately, I don't have any further details, so we are left to guess at most of the rest. But we do continue on with the Goguryeo theme in the following year, the first month of 660, with envoys from Goguryeo arriving in Tsukushi. They likely had no idea that while they were in Yamato, big changes were about to take place back on the peninsula. It would take them four months to get to Naniwa, arriving on the 8th day of the 5th month. They couldn't have known everything that was happening on the peninsula, behind them. And that's because it was in the third month of tha year that Tang Gaozong commanded Su Dingfang, along with Kim Inmun and Liu Boying, to take 130,000 land and see troops to subdue Baekje. They landed at Teongmul islands, west of Baekje, and, word having reached their court, the King of Silla sent the renowned general Kim Yusin in charge of a force of 50,000 troops to lend their support. Kim Yusin was a veteran of fighting between Baekje and Silla, and he had already face the enemy on the battlefield, but now he had the aid of the Tang troops. King Wicha had heard of their advance, and asked his court for advice. One suggestion was to try to crush the Tang soldiers as soon as they came ashore—force them to stay on their boats and destroy them before they could get on land and organized. Another suggested that the Tang army, for all its size, was built for speed and a decisive victory. If Baekje could simply harry them long enough, it would wear them down, and they would have to return. They could then turn their sights on Silla, an enemy they knew how to deal with. One noble, Heungsu, who had been out of favor in the court, and even exiled at one point, offered his advice—that they should fortify the Baek river and Tanhyeon Pass, so that they could not approach. It would be a near suicidal task, but brave soldiers could defend those narrow points against larger forces, since they would be forced to engage with fewer forces at a time. Heungsu was ridiculed, however, and his ideas were abandoned. Instead, they devised a scheme whereby they would let the Tang ships enter the river, until they could only go two abreast, and then they would attack them from the shore and destroy them. Likewise, at the pass, rather than fortifying it, as suggested, they would wait in ambush until the Tang forces could not maneuver, and they would then destroy them as well. This seemed like a plan, and it was given to the general Kyebaek to carry out. At first, it looked like it would work. General Kyebaek took five thousand soldiers to Hwangsan as soon as the heard that the Silla soldiers were advancing through the pass. They engaged the Silla forces four separate times, defeating Silla each time. However, every assault took its toll. The five thousand troops could not prevail against a force 10 times their size, and eventually they were wiped out, along with general Kyebaek. Without opposition, the Silla forces met up with the Tang, and the two armies joined forces. They actually were able to use the mountainous terrain, which otherwise would have been used to keep them out, to their own advantage. Eventually they were able to advance on the capital. The Baekje forces fought to exhaustion, but they were outmatched by the Tang-Silla alliance. Eventually, they marched on the city, and King Wicha knew that they would be defeated. Four years before this, an official had spoken up against King Wicha, and had been thrown in prison, where he died, emaciated. However, before he died he offered advice that if an enemy were ever to come, the army should be deployed to the passes and to the upstream banks of the rivers, and that no enemy should be allowed to pass those points. Looking at the enemy at his gates, King Wicha regretted that he had not listened to that advice. He grabbed his son and fled to the northern border of Baekje while Su Tingfang and the combined forces besieged the capital. He sought refuge at Ungjin fortress, in modern Kongju. This all happened in the 7th lunar month of the year 660. With King Wicha fled, along with the crown prince, his second son, T'ae, declared himself king and led the defense of the city. However, several others of King Wicha's sons looked at this and were afraid that it now didn't matter what happened. If T'ae defended the city, then they would be next on his hit list, as they were clearly his rivals to power, and if the Tang defeated them, well, it didn't look good, either. So they and their retainers all fled the city as well. This sparked a mass exodus as other citizens tried to do the same, and T'ae could not stop them. Eventually, the forces weakened, Su Tingfang took the city and raised the Tang banners. T'ae opened the gates and pleaded for his life. When King Wicha heard all of this, he knew there was no escape. He and his sons surrendered themselves and the fortresses to the Tang-Silla alliance. He and his sons, and many of his people, were taken captive and taken back to the Tang court, where the Yamato ambassadors saw them being paraded around. Now the king may have been captured, but Baekje was not completely subdued. A few of the remaining citizens held out hope that they could gather their forces and kick out the Tang and Silla and take back their country. They knew that, although most of the royal family was captured there was still one more: Prince Pung. Prince Pung, as you may recall from previous episodes, was residing in Yamato, a royal hostage—or perhaps more of a restrained guest. The rebels acknowledged him as their king and sent word to Yamato asking that he come back, along with reinforcements, and retake the kingdom. In the meantime, they gathered and fought as they could, wearing down the Tang and Silla forces. The rebels, after all, knew the land, and the invaders were still reliant on their supply lines. This situation persisted for several years. Back in Yamato, in the 5th month of 660, they still were likely unaware of what had happened on the peninsula. There was no social media to alert them to the dangers, and it would still be a few months before the Baekje capital actually fell. They were busy entertaining the envoys from Goguryeo, or preparing 100 raised seats an one hundred kesa, or Buddhist vestments, for a Benevolent King ritual. They were focused on their wars in the north, with the Mishihase, which they had been successful in Praising Abe no Hirafu for his successful campaign. There is one record that says that in the 5th month people started carrying weapons around with them for no good reason, because they had heard of the destruction of Baekje, but that hadn't actually happened yet, so this is likely out of place—possibly by a couple of years. There is a note about the destruction of Baekje in the 7th month, but that is from the “Records of the reigns of Japan” or Nihon Seiki, a work that is no longer extant that was apparently written by a Goguryeo priest, who noted Baekje's destruction in his history, but this was probably not exactly information available to Yamato at the time. And no, I don't want to gloss over the fact that we are given another source that was likely being used by the Chroniclers. I want to delve into the fact that this was by a Goguryeo priest, known in Japanese as Doken. I want to talk about how this work pops up throughout the reigns of Saimei, Tenchi, and apparently even in the Fujiwara Kaden. It seems like he was close to Nakatomi no Kamatari and the Fujiwara house, which probably explains how he had access to the events mentioned and why his work was known. However, I don't really have time for all of that because we are trying to focus on what was happening with Baekje and what was happening Yamato at the time. And in Yamato it wasn't until the 9th month that word finally arrived via a Buddhist novice named “Kakchyong”, according to Aston. He carried word of the defeat, but also word that Kwisil Poksin had taken up arms and was leading a rebellion against Tang and Silla control. The royal city, which some records say had fallen in mere days, was once more under Baekje control, according to the word that reached Yamato. It does seem that Poksin held it for a time, but they weren't able to set in for any kind of prolonged fight in any one spot. It seems that the fighting was going back and forth, and the rebels were remaining on the move while fighting actions against the invading forces. Poksin had apparently captured some of the enemy troops, though, and sent them to Yamato, possibly as tribute and payment for future reinforcements, and possibly to demonstrate their victories. And if that was the case, it seemed to have worked. Takara Hime agreed to help Baekje. She agreed to send troops, commanding them to go from a hundred directions and meet up in Sateok—likely meaning that this was an emergency deployment and rather than everyone gathering in Kyushu and heading over together, they were getting there as fast as they could, however they could, to try and come to Baekje's aid. She also released Prince Pung to return as well, and basically named him the King of Baekje herself. As for Takara Hime and the main force, they moved first to Naniwa and gathered there. She was considering going on to Tsukushi and then traveling with the bulk of the navy from there. Omens were also coming in, and it wasn't good. In the province of Suruga, they built a boat, but apparently, overnight, the bow and stern switched places, which the Chroniclers saw as a bad omen. And then there were a swarm of insects reported in Shinano as coming from a westerly direction. Another bad sign, especially given that Tang and Silla were both west of Yamato. Although they started preparing in the 9th month of 660, it took them until the first month of 661 to have the royal ship ready to go. It is likely that much of what was happening was not just a waiting navy putting to sea, but rather there were emergency build orders to build or repair ships and make them ready for the crossing and eventual attack. The royal ship made its through the Seto Inland Sea, past Bizen, the nearer part of ancient Kibi, and on to Iyo, on Shikoku. They seem to have had a few setbacks in their journey, and it wasn't until the 5th month that they reached the Asakura palace, though to be in Chikuzen, in Tsukushi, aka northern Kyushu. The month before, Poksin had written and asked to wait upon the prince, which I suspect was a polite way of asking when the reinforcements would finally arrive. Unfortunately, at Asakura, disaster struck. The Chroniclers claim this was because they had cleared sacred trees in order to make room for the palace and the kami were none to pleased. The palace itself was demolished and several notable people, including the Grand Treasurer, took ill and died. Not a great start to things. It was here that they met up with the envoys coming back from Chang'an who no doubt told them about their house arrest and everything else. On top of this, we are told that in the 6th month Prince Ise, of whom little more is given, died, and then, a little more than a month later, he was followed by the sovereign herself: Takara Hime. I suspect that Prince Ise may have been one of Takara Hime's sons, possibly in line for the throne, otherwise, why make mention of his death. However, Takara's passing would have no doubt thrown the war plans into disarray. It is quite likely that she wasn't actually the one doing most of the heavy lifting—in all likely that was her son, Prince Naka no Oe, who was handling a lot of that. But still, the death of the sovereign just before you head off to war, was not great. They had to send a funeral procession back to Naniwa and Asuka. Prince Naka no Oe accompanied it as far as the Iwase Palace, but didn't go all the way back. As the procession headed for Naniwa, he composed a poem: Longing as I do For a sight of thee Now that I have arrived here, Even thus do I long Desirous of a sight of thee! Prince Naka no Oe had just lost his sovereign and his mother, and he was now fully in charge of the armada headed to try and relieve Baekje. He would have to continue the plans while Takara Hime's remains headed back to Asuka. The funeral procession arrived in the 10th month, and her body was put in temporary interment for at Asuka-gahara as 9 days of mourning began. Her son, however, would continue to mourn from afar. He put on white clothing—a symbol of purity and associated with funerals and death, at least in Buddhist tradition. He had no time, though. By the 8th month, Prince Naka no Oe was sending Adzumi no Hirafu no Omi and Kawabe no Momoye no Omi, as generals of the Front Division, while Abe no Hirafu no Omi and Mononobe no Muraji no Kuma took up the mantle of generals of the rear division. They sent men, along with arms and grain to help relieve the Baekje forces. After sending the initial forces to make way, in the 9th month he conferred a cap of woven stuff on Prince Pung, indicating his high rank in the Yamato court, and gave to him as a wife, the sister of a high ranking court official. He then sent him off, with the help of Sawi no Muraji no Ajimasa and Hada no Miyatsuko no Takutsu, along with 5,000 troops to escort him back. They made it to Baekje and were able to meet up with Poksin and their forces. On the Korean peninsula, one of the strategic objectives of the Tang was to create a foothold on the peninsula so that they could finally take out the Kingdom of Goguryeo. That year was particularly cold, and apparently Tang forces tried to invade Goguryeo again, attacking with siege weapons and other war machines. The Goguryeo soldiers fought valiantly, but appear to have reached a stalemate. In 662, some of the Yamato material started appearing for Poksin. It included 100,000 arrows, 500 kin of raw silk, 1000 kin of floss silk, 1000 tan of cloth, 1000 hides of leather, and 3000 koku, or over 15,000 bushels, of seed rice. The next month, he sent another 300 tan of silk to the king. The Silk may not make much sense, but it would have likely been a form of currency that they could use to purchase other goods, and it could be used for clothing. The leather may have even been useful for armor and other accoutrements. But mostly, this was probably economic aid, outside of the 100,000 arrows. That same month, the 3rd month of 662, the Tang-Silla alliance was trying to body Goguryeo, and Goguryeo reached out for aid. Yamato troops were reportedly sent to help, and the attacks against Goguryeo were blunted. This really was, now, the Goguryeo-Baekje-Yamato alliance against the Tang-Silla alliance. Poksin and the rebels had holed up in a place called Chuyu, which they were using as their base of operations. King Pung had arrived, and Poksin was officially made his Minister, but they decided to move out from Chuyu. It was fine for defense, but the land was not fertile, and they wanted to establish a base where they apparently had more resources, so they found Phisyeong, with rivers to the north and west, and large earthworks to the south and east. It had fertile land for growing crops, which could then feed the army. However, one of the veterans pointed out the Phisyeong was less than a day's march from their enemies' encampment, and it would be a simple nights march and the army could be at their doorstep. Chuyu, for all it was not the most appealing place, was much more defensible. In the end, though, they decided that they would move the capital to Phisyeong. In the 2nd month of the following year, in 663, Silla troops were ravaging southern Baekje, setting fire to the land, possibly trying to starve out any resistance. Sure enough, they moved in close to Phisyeong, and King Pung and his troops realized they were in danger, and moved back to the defensive position of Chuyu. In the following month, the Yamato and Baekje forces began to take the fight to Silla. They advanced on Silla territory with 27,000 troops. They took some cities and fortresses. As all of this was going on, King Pung was beginning to wonder about Poksin and his loyalties. After all, Poksin had been running things before Pung showed up, and why wouldn't he think he could run things just fine without Pung once this was all over? He had raised the soldiers, right? So who would they be loyal to? Would they be loyal to Pung, who barely knew Baekje, having lived for so long in Yamato. Or would they be loyal to Poksin, who had rallied them together at the brink of defeat? And so in the 6th month he conferred with his other ministers. Now it isn't stated in the text, but I suspect that his other ministers were Baekje nobles, and Poksin, well, there really isn't much indication that he had started this out as a man of high station. They all agreed that Poksin should be dealt with, and so Pung had Poksin taken into custody and beheaded. Now I don't know if it needs to be said, but putting your own top general to death in the middle of a war is not exactly the best thing for morale. Silla heard about it, and made plans to attack, hoping to catch Baekje offguard. Baekje heard about it, and they also knew that about 10,000 reinforcements were supposed to be arriving soon from Yamato. Those were reinforcements that could turn the tide of any fight. They just needed to make it up the Baek river, known in Japanese as the Haku-suki-no-e. The Silla and Tang troops surrounded the fortress of Chuyu, and Baekje desperately needed the reinforcements from Yamato. The Tang navy had 170 ships sitting at the mouth of the Baek River, ready to prevent any reinforcements from getting in. On the 17th day of the 8th month, according to the Nihon Shoki, the first ships of the Yamato fleet arrived, but they could make no headway against the Tang forces. Based on other records, it appears that the Yamato fleet swelled to more than 400 ships, well over twice the size of the defending Tang navy. They attacked at least four separate times, but despite their smaller size, the Tang ships had the advantage of the terrain, using the narrowing at the river, and they also had superior tactics. Although the Yamato soldiers fought ferociously, they couldn't move the Tang fleet. Speaking of fighting, let's talk about what it meant. There were no cannons or anything like that. It is likely that the projectile weapons of the day were arrows, and based on the ship designs, it was likely that ships would need to get close and grapple with each other so that soldiers could actually do the fighting. In this way, ships were like floating battlefields. If you could burn the ships, then that was something, but fire would also be a danger to your own wooden vessel. And so it is likely that ships would have to engage with each other and effectively let the other side grapple if you wanted to fight, unless you just wanted to exchange arrows. After being repulsed four times, ten days after they had first engaged, the Tang vessels finally counterattacked. They were able to swarm out and envelope the right and left flanks or the Yamato ships. Four hundred ships were burned and sent to the bottom of the sea. The Yamato forces were unable to break through the blockade and had to turn around. The Battle of Haku-suki-no-e was a total defeat, and only ten days later, Chuyu fell. King Pung was able to escape, fleeing to Goguryeo, but the writing was on the wall: The Kingdom of Baekje would never be reconstituted. The Yamato forces departed the continent and headed back to the archipelago. They met up at Honye on the 24th day of the 9th month and started out for the archipelago on the following day, eventually returning to Yamato, along with some of the Baekje nobles and ministers who had fled with them. The results of this defeat were resounding. The battle of Haku-suki-no-e, known in Korean as the Battle of Baekgang, or the Battle of the Baek River, would change the political landscape. The Tang-Silla alliance would eventually continue to pressure Goguryeo, and the dictator, Yeong Gaesomun, would die three years later, in 666. He had held out against Tang and Silla, but with his death, there was a moment of chaos as an internal struggle broke out in the Goguryeo court. The divisions this caused weakened the country, which fell to the Tang-Silla alliance in 667. With both Goguryeo and Baekje gone, suddenly Silla was now the country on the Tang empire's borders. Without their shared enemies, there was not longer an alliance between the two, and Silla would push back against the Tang. The Tang held out on the peninsula for another decade, but without Silla support, it became too costly to continually ship supplies to the troops. Silla was eventually able to force the Tang forces off of the peninsula, and thus began the period on the Korean peninsula known as Unified Silla, where Silla ruled all of the what is now north and south Korea. In the archipelago, in the aftermath of their ally's defeat, there was worry in the Yamato court. They were afraid that the Tang empire would come after them, next, and they began building fortresses from Tsukushi all the way along Kyushu and the Seto Inland sea area. These are peninsular style fortresses, often using earthworks and walls that were built up around the tops of mountains, using the terrain. A large earthwork was put up between the coast and the Dazaifu, in case Tang troops landed in Hakata bay. Today, many of these earthworks still exist. Some were even repurposed for gun emplacements in the lead up to what would become World War II, as they were still highly defensible positions. The feared invasion never came, and the fortresses would eventually be abandoned, but they are still a testament to just how seriously Yamato took this threat. Next up, we'll take a look at Naka no Oe's reign. Naka no Oe is known in the Chronicles as Tenchi Tennou, the sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom. We'll talk about that some more as we get into his time on the throne. Since 645 he had been a force in the Yamato court, but he had not taken the throne at a younger age. Now, however, his power seemed secure. He took the throne upon his mother's death, and we'll talk about that and more in future episodes. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan
RN Especial: Sobre la Orden Ejecutiva 10-2025 El 11 de marzo la Gobernadora de Puerto Rico, Jenniffer Gonzalez, firmó la Orden Ejecutiva (OE) número 10 para crear la «Unidad para la Atención Integral del Adulto Mayor» y establecer la política pública del Gobierno de Puerto Rico dirigida a la población adulta mayor. Los primeros párrafos de la OE contienen datos y estadísticas acerca de la población adulta mayor en Puerto Rico y esto nos trae una oportunidad excelente para reflexionar acerca del poder inmenso de usar datos y estadísticas para tomar decisiones informadas. En este episodio contamos con la participación de la Dra. Idania Rodríguez Ayuso: subdirectora ejecutiva del Instituto de Estadísticas de Puerto Rico, el Sr. Alberto Velázquez Estrada, gerente senior de proyectos estadísticos. Más información Orden Ejecutiva Numero 10 de 2025 Página del Instituto de Estadísticas de Puerto Rico Inventario de Estadísticas – Demografía Perfil de Migrante Podcast del Instituto de Estadísticas (Spotify)
This episode we will discuss various embassies to and from Yamato during the reign of Takara Hime, with a particular focus on the embassy of 659, which occured at a particularly eventful time and happened to be extremely well-recorded fro the period by Iki no Hakatoko, who was apparently on the mission to the Tang court itself. For more, check out our blog post at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-123 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is episode 123: Embassy Interrupted. Iki no Hakatoko sat in his room, gazing out at the city. It was truly an amazing place, filled with all kinds of people from around the world. And yet, still, after 9 months of confinement, the place felt small. Sure, there he hadwere visits from ranking nobles and dignitaries, but even the most lenient of house arrests was still house arrest. But that didn't mean that he had nothing to do. There were books and more that he had access to—many that had not yet made it to the archipelago, and some of which he no doubt hoped he could bring back with him. And of course, there was paper, brush, and ink. And then there were the experiences he and others had acquired on this mission to the Great Tang. From the very beginning the missionit washad been plagued with disaster when they lost half of their ships and company mission to rogue winds on the open seas. Now they were trapped because the Emperor himself wouldn't let them return home. They had experienced and seen so much, and that provided ample material for one to catalogue. As the seasons changed, and rumors arrived that perhaps his situation would also something would change soon, Iki no Hakatoko spread out the paper on the desk in front of him, dipped his brush in the ink, and began to write. He wrote down notes about his experiences, and what had befallen him and the others. He had no idea who It is unclear whom he thought might read it, and if he was intending this to be an official or personal record, but he wrote it down anyway. Hakatoko He couldn't have known then that his words would eventually be captured in a much larger work, chronicling the entire history of Yamato from its very creation, nor that his would be one of the oldest such personal accounts records to be handed down. His Itwords wwould only survive in fragments—or perhaps his writing was simply that terse—but his words they would be preserved, in a format that was still being read over a thousand years later. Last episode we finished up the story of Xuanzang and his Journey to the West—which is to say the Western Regions -- , and thence on to India, or Tianzhu, where he walked in the footsteps of the historical Buddha, studied the scriptures at the feet of venerable teachers, such as Silabadhra at the Great Monastery of Nalanda, and eventually wound up bringingbrought back hundreds of manuscripts to Chang'an to , which he and others be translated and disseminated, impacting Buddhist thought across East Asia. HisXuanzang's travels lasted from around 629 to 645, and he was still teaching in Chang'an in the 650s when various student-monks from Yamato arrived to study and learn from him, eventually bringing back his teachings to the archipelago as part of the Faxiang, or Hossou, school of Buddhism. Before that we talked about the visitors from “Tukhara” and “Sha'e” recorded in the Chronicles. As we noted, these peopley were morest likely from the Ryukyuan islands, and the names may have been conflated with distant lands overseas – but regardless, . Whether or not it was a mistake, this it does seem to indicated that Yamato had at least an inkling of the wider world, introduced through the continental literature that they had been importing, if not the direct interactions with individuals from the Korean peninsula and the Tang court. This episode, we're going to talk about some of the relations between Yamato and the continent, including the various embassies sent back and forth, as well as one especially detailed embassy from Yamato to the Tang Court that found itself in a bit of a pickle. After all, what did you do, back in those days, when you were and ambassador, and your country suddenly went to war? We'll talk about that and what happened. To reorient ourselves in time, we're in the reign of Takara Hime, called aka Kyogoku Tennou during her first reign, who had reascended to the throne in 655, following the death of her brother, Prince Karu. The Chroniclers would dub her Saimei Tennou in her second run on the throne. From the very beginning of her second reign, Takara Hime was entertaining foreign envoys. In 654, the Three Han of the Korean Peninsula—Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla—all sent ambassadors to express their condolence on the death of her brother, and presumably to witness her ascension. And in the 8th month of her reign, Kawabe no Maro no Omi, along with others, returned from Chang'an. He Kawabe no Maro no Omi had been the Chief Ambassador to the Tang on an embassy sent , traveling there in the 2nd month of the previous year. Originally he had been He was under the command of the controlling envoy, Takamuku no Obito no Kuromaro, but Kuromaro who unfortunately died in Chang'an and so Kawabe no Mari no Omi took over his role. That same year, 655, we know that there were about 100 persons recorded in Yamato from Baekje, along with envoys of Goguryeo and Silla. These are likely the same ones we mentioned back in episode 117 when 150 Baekje envoys were present at court along with multiple members of the Emishi. Silla, for their part, had sent to Yamato a special hostage , whom we know as something like “Mimu”, along with skilled workmen. Unfortunately, we are told that Mimu fell ill and died. The Chronicles are pretty sparse on what this meant, but I can't imagine it was great. After all, the whole idea of sending a hostage to another nation was as a pledge of good behavior – the idea being that the hostage was the idea that they werewas valuable enough that the sending nation wouldn't do anything too rash. The flip side of that is if the hostage died, Of course, if they perished, the hosting country lost any leverage—and presumably the sending nation would be none too pleased. That said, people getting sick and passing away was hardly a hostile action, and likely just considered an unfortunate situation. The following year, in 656, we see that Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla again all sent ambassadords were all sent to offer “tribute”. The Chronicles mention that dark purple curtains were drawn around the palace site to entertain the ambassadors—likely referring to the new palace site at Asuka no Wokamoto, which probably was not yet fully built out, yet. We are given the name of the Goguryeo ambassador, Talsa, and associate ambassador, Ilchi, in the 8th month, Talsa and Ilichi, with 81 total members in the Goguryeo retinueof the embassy. In seeming response, Yamato sent an embassy was sent to Goguryeo with the likes of Kashiwade no Omi no Hatsumi as the Chief Ambassador and Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwasuki as the Associate Ambassador. Other names mentioned include We also see the likes of Inugami no Shiromaro, Kawachi no Fumi no Obito—no personal name is given—and Ohokura no Maro. We also see thea note in the Chronicles that Yamato ambassadors to the quote-unquote “Western Sea”—which seems to refer to the Tang court, but could possibly refer to anything from the Korean Peninsula west—returned in that same year. The two are named as Saheki no Muraji no Takunaha and Oyamashita no Naniha no Kishi no Kunikatsu. These are both families that were clearly involved in cross-strait relations , based on how they are frequently referenced in the Chronicles as being associated with various overseas missions. but However, we don't seem to have clear evidence of them when these particular individualsy leavingft on this mission. “Kunikatsu” mightay refer to an earlier ambassador to Baekje, but the names are different, so that is largely just speculation. In any case, Uupon their return, they are said to have brought with them a parrot. This wasn't the first parrot the court had seen—that feathery traveler had arrived in 647, or at least that is the first parrotinstance we have in the written record -- . Aand that one came from Silla as part of that embassy's gifts. Continuing on, in 657, The following year there was another group of ambassadors returned coming from the “Western Seas”, in this case coming back from—or through—Baekje. Thisese wasere Adzumi no Muraji no Tsuratari and Tsu no Omi no Kutsuma. The presents they brought back were, of all things: one camel and two donkeys. And can you imagine bringing a camel back across the sea at this point? Even if they were using the larger ships based on continental designs, it still must have been something else to put up with a camel and donkeys onboard, animals that are not exactly known for their easy-going and compliant nature. Speaking of boats, we should probably touch on what we *think* they were usinghas been going on here. I say *think* because we only get glimpses of the various boats being used in the archipelago, whether from mentions in or around Yamato, archaeology, or artistic depictions, many of which came from later periods., and wSo while it is generally assumed that they the Yamato were using Tang style vessels by the 8th and 9th century, there does not appear to be clear evidence of exactly what kind of boats were being used during the early earlier periods of contact. A quick note on boat technology and navigation: while travel between the Japanese archipelago and the Korean Peninsula, and up the Yellow Sea, wasn't safe, it would have been possible with the vessels of the time. Japan sits on the continental shelf, meaning that to the east where the shelf gives way to the Pacific Ocean with the Phillippine Sea to the south, the waters are much, much deeper than they are to the west. In deep waters, waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor, meaning they can build up much more energy and require different kinds of technology to sail. In shallower areas, such as the Sea of Japan, the Yellow Sea, the East China Sea or the Korean Straits to the west of the archipelago, there's more drag that dampens out the wave effect – it's not that these areas are uniformly shallow and calm, but they are calmer and easier to navigate in general. Our oldest example of boats in the archipelago of any kind are dugout canoes, . These are logs that are hollowed out and shaped. , and tThese appear to be what Jomon era populations used to cross to the archipelago and travel between the various islands. Though they may be considered primitive, without many of the later innovations that would increase stability and seaworthiness—something I'll touch on more a bit later—, they were clearly effective enough to populate the islands of the Ryukyuan chain and even get people and livestock, in the form of pigs, down to the Hachijo islands south of modern Tokyo. So they weren't ineffective. Deep waters mean that the waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor. Once it hits shallower water, there is more drag that affects larger waves. This means that there can be more energy in these ocean waves. That usually means that shallower areas tend to be more calm and easier to navigate—though there are other things that can affect that as well. We probably should note, however, that Japan sits on the edge of the continental shelf. To the west, the seas are deep, but not nearly as deep as they are to the east, where continental shelf gives way to the Pacific ocean, with the Philippine Sea to the south. These are much deeper waters than those of the Yellow Sea, the East China Sea, or the Korean Straits. The Sea of Japan does have some depth to it, but even then it doesn't compare in both size and depth. Deep waters mean that the waves are not necessarily affected by the ocean floor. Once it hits shallower water, there is more drag that affects larger waves. This means that there can be more energy in these ocean waves. That usually means that shallower areas tend to be more calm and easier to navigate—though there are other things that can affect that as well. All this to say that travel between the Japanese archipelago and the Korean Peninsula, and up the Yellow Sea, were all things that were likely much easier to navigate with the vessels available at the time, but that doesn't mean that it was safe. Later, we see a different type of vessel appear: . This is a built vessel, made of multiple hewn pieces of wood. The examples that we see show a rather square front and back that rise up, sometimes dramatically, . There are with various protrusions on either side. We see examples of this shape , and we've seen examples in haniwa from about the 6th century, and we have some corresponding wooden pieces found around the Korean peninsula that pretty closely match the haniwa boat shapesuggest similar boats were in use there as well, . Nnot surprising given the cultural connections. These boats do not show examples of sails, and were likely crewed by rowers. Descriptions of some suggest that they might be adorned with branches, jewels, mirrors, and other such things for formal occasions to identify some boats as special -- , and we even have one record of the rowers in ceremonial garb with deer antlers. But none of this suggests more than one basic boat typevery different types of boats. In the areas of the Yellow and Yangzi rivers, area of modern China, particularly in the modern PRC, the boats we see are a little different. They tend to be flat bottomed boats, possible evolved from which appear to have been designed from rafts or similar . These vessels would have evolved out of those used to transport goods and people up and down the Yellow and Yangzi rivers and their tributaries. These boats y had developed sails, but still the boats wwere n'ot necessarily the most stable on the open ocean. Larger boats could perhaps make their way through some of the waves, and were no doubt used throughout the Yellow Sea and similar regions. However, for going farther abroad, we are told thatcourt chronicles note that there were other boats that were preferred: . These are sometimes called the Kun'lun-po, or Boats of the Kunlun, or the Boats of the Dark-skinned people. A quick dive here into how this name came to be. Originally, “Kunlun” appears to refer to a mythical mountain range, the Kunlun-shan, which may have originated in the Shan-hai-jing, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, and so may not have referred to anything specific terrestrial mountain range, ally. Italthough the term would later attach be used to describe to the mountain chain that forms the northern edge of the Tibetan plateau, on the southern edge of the Tarim Basin. However, at some point, it seems that “Kunlun” came to refer to people -- . Sspecifically, it came to refer to people of dark complexion, with curly hair. There are Tang era depictions of such people, but their origin is not exactly known: it might . It is thought that it may have have equally referred to dark-skinned individuals of African descent, or possibly referring to some of the dark-skinned people who lived in the southern seas—people like the Andamanese living on the islands west of modern Thailand or some of the people of the Malay peninsula, for example. It is these latter groups that likely were the origin, then, of the “Kun'lun-po”, referring to the ships of the south, such as those of Malay and AsutronesianAustronesian origin. We know that from the period of at least the Northern and Southern Dynasties, and even into the early Tang, these foreign ships often , which were often plyingied the waters from trade port to trade port, and were the preferred sailing vessels for voyages to the south, where the waters could be more treacherous. Indeed, the Malay language eventually gives us the term of their vessels as “Djong”, a term that eventually made its way into Portuguese as “Junco” and thus into English as “junk”, though this terms has since been rather broadly applied to different “Asian” style sailing vessels. So that leaves us with three ship types that the Yamato court could have been using to send these embassies back and forth to the continent: . Were they still using their own style of native boat as seen on haniwa,, or were they adopting continental boats to their needs? If so, were they using the flat-bottomed boats of the Tang dynasty, or the more seaworthy vessels of the foreign merchants?. Which were they using? The general thinking is that IMost depictions I have seen of the kentoushi, the Japanese embassies to the Tang court, depict them as t is generally thought that they were probably using the more continental-style flat-bottomed, riverine vessels. After all, they were copying so much of what the Sui and Tang courts were doing, why would they not consider these ships to likewise be superior to their own? At least for diplomatic purposes. I suspect that local fishermen did their own were keeping their own counsel as far as ships are concernedthing, and I also have to wonder about what got used they were using from a military standpoint for military purposes. Certainly we see the Tang style boats used in later centuries, suggesting that these had been adopted at some earlier point, possibly by the 650s or earlier. Whatever they used, and while long-distance sailing vessels could Sailing vessels could be larger than short-distance riverine craft, this was not a luxury cruise. , but conditions on board were not necessarily a luxury cruise. From later accounts we know that they would really pack people into these shipspeople could be packed in. It should be noted that individual beds and bedrooms were a luxury in much of the world, and many people probably had little more than a mat to sleep on. Furthermore, people could be packed in tight. Think of the size of some of these embassies, which are said to be 80 to 150 people in size. A long, overseas journey likely meant getting quite cozy with your neighbors on the voyage. So how much more so with a camel and two donkeys on board a vessel that was likely never meant to carry them? Not exactly the most pleasant experience, I imagine – and this is not really any different than European sailing vessels during the later age of exploration.. So, from the records for just the first few years of Takara-hime's second reign, we see that there are lots of people going back and forth, and we have a sense of how they might be getting to and from the continent and peninsula. Let's dive into Next, we are going to talk about one of the most heavily documented embassies to the Tang court, which set out in the 7th month of the year 659. Not only do we get a pretty detailed account of this embassy, but we even know who wrote the account: as in our imagined intro, , as this is one of the accounts by the famous Iki no Muraji no Hakatoko, transcribed by Aston as “Yuki” no Muraji. Iki no Hakatoko's name first appears in an entry for 654, where he is quoted as giving information about the status of some of the previous embassies to the Tang court. Thereafter, various entries are labeled as “Iki no Muraji no Hakatoko says:”, which This would seem to indicate that these particular entries came are taken directly from another work written by Iki no Hakatoko and referred to as the “Iki Hakatoko Sho”. Based on the quoted fragments found in the Nihon Shoki, itthis appears to be one of ourthis oldest Japanese travelogues. It , and spends considerable time on the mission of 659, of which it would appear that Iki no Hakatoko was himself a member, though not a ranking one. Later, Iki no Hakatoko would find himself mentioned in the Nihon Shoki directly, and he would even be an ambassador, himself. The embassy of 659 itself, as we shall see, was rather momentous. Although it started easily enough, the embassy would be caught up in some of the most impactful events that would take place between the Tang, Yamato, and the states of the Korean peninsula. This embassy was formally under the command of Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwashiki and Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza. It's possible In the first instance it is not clear to me if this isthat he is the same person as the previously mentioned associate envoy, Sakahibe no Iwasuki—but the kanji are different enough, and there is another Sakahibe no Kusuri who shows up between the two in the record. However, they are both listed as envoys during the reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, and as we've abundantly seen, and it wouldn't be the first time that scribal error crept in. has taken place, especially if the Chroniclers were pulling from different sources. The ambassadors took a retinue with them, including members of the northern Emishi, whom they were bringing along with them to show to the Tang court. TheThey also embassy ttook two ships—perhaps because of the size of the retinue, but I suspect that this was also because if anything happened to the one, you still had the other. A kind of backup plan due to the likelihood something went wrong. And wouldn't you know it, something did go wrong. You see, things started out fine, departing Mitsu Bay, in Naniwa, on the 3rd day of the 7th month. They sailed through the Seto Inland Sea and stopped at Tsukushi, likely for one last resupply and to check in with the Dazai, located near modern Fukuoka, who would have been in charge of overseeing ships coming and going to the archipelago. They departed from Ohotsu bay in Tsukushi on the 11th day of the 8th month. A quick note: Sspeedboats these were not. Today, one can cross from Fukuoka to Busan, on the southeast corner of the Korean peninsula, in less than a day. The envoys, however, were taking their time. They may have even stopped at the islands of Iki and Tsushima on their way. By the 13th day of the 9th month—over a month from leaving Kyushu behind -- , the ships finally came to an island along the southern border of Yamato's ally, Baekje. Hakatoko does not recall the name of the island, but o On the following morning, around 4 AM, so just before sunrise, the two ships put out to sea together to cross the ocean, heading south, towards the mouth of the Yangzi river. Unfortunately, the following day, the ship Iwashiki was on met with a contrary wind, and was driven away from the other ship – with nothing known of its fate until some time afterwards. Meanwhile, the other ship, under the command of Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza, continued on and by midnight on the 16th day, it arrived at Mt. Xuan near Kuaiji Commandary in the Yue district, in modern Zhejiang. Suddenly a violent northeast wind blew up, and p. Tthey were saileding another 7 days before they finally arrived at Yuyao. Today, this is part of the city of Ningbo, at the mouth of the Qiantang river, south of Shanghai and considered a part of the Yangzi Delta Region. This area has been inhabited since at least 6300 years ago, and it has long been a trade port, especially with the creation of the Grand Canal connecting between the Yangzi and the Yellow River, which would have allowed transshipment of goods to both regions. The now half-size Yamato contingenty left their ship at Yuyao and disembarked, and made their way to Yuezhou, the capital of the Kuaiji Commandary. This took them a bit of time—a little over a month. Presumably this was because of paperwork and logistics: they probably because they had to send word ahead, and I suspect they had to inventory everything they brought and negotiate carts and transportationfigure out transportation., since Tthey didn't exactly have bags of holding to stuff it all in, so they probably needed to negotiate carts and transportation. The finally made it to Yuezhou on the first day of the 11th intercalary month. An “intercalary” month refers to an extra month in a year. It was determined by various calculations and was added to keep the lunar and solar years in relative synch. From Yuezhou, things went a bit more quickly, as they were placed on post-horses up to the Eastern Capital, or Luoyang, where the Emperor Tang Gaozong was in residence. The Tang kept a capital at Luoyang and another to the west, in Chang'an. The trip to Luoyang was long—over 1,000 kilometers, or 1 megameter, as it were. The trip first took them through the Southern Capital, meaning the area of modern Nanjing, which they entered on the 15th day of the month. They then continued onwards, reaching Luoyang on the 29th day of the 11th month. The following day, on the 30th day of the 11th intercalary month of the year 659, the Yamato envoys were granted an audience with Emperor Tang Gaozong. As was proper, he inquired about the health of their sovereign, Takara Hime, and the envoys reported that she was doing well. He asked other questions about how the officials were doing and whether there was peace in Yamato. The envoys all responded affirmatively, assuring him that Yamato was at peace. Tang Gaozong also asked about the Emishi they had brought with them. We mentioned this event previously, back in Episode XXX117 , how the Emishi had been shown to the Tang Emperor, and how they had described them for him. This is actually one of the earliest accounts that we have describing the Emishi from the Yamato point of view, rather than just naming them—presumably because everyone in Yamato already knew who they were. From a diplomatic perspective, of course, this was no doubt Yamato demonstrating how they were, in many ways, an Empire, similar to the Tang, with their own subordinate ethnicities and “barbarians”. After answering all of the emperor's questions, the audience was concluded. The following day, however, was something of its own. This was the first day of the regular 11th lunar month, and it also was the celebration of the Winter Solstice—so though it was the 11th month, it may have been about 22 December according to our modern western calendars. The envoys once again met with the emperor, and they were treated as distinguished guests—at least according to their own records of it. Unfortunately, during the festivities, it seems that a fire broke out, creating some confusion, and . Tthe matters of the diplomatic mission were put on hold while all of that went on. We don't know exactly what happened in the ensuing month. Presumably the envoys took in the sites of the city, may have visited various monasteries, and likely got to know the movers and shakers in the court, who likely would have wined and dined them, inviting them to various gatherings, as since they brought their own exotic culture and experiences to the Tang court. Unfortunately, things apparently turned sour. First off, it seems clear that the members of this embassyy weren't the only Japanese in the court. There may have been various merchants, of course, but and we definitely know that there were students who had come on other missions and were still there likely still studying, such as those who had been learning from studying with Master Xuanzang, whose journeys we mentioned in the last several episodes. But Wwe are given a very specific name of a troublemaker, however: Kawachi no Aya no Ohomaro, and we are told that he was aa servant of Han Chihung, who . Han Chihung, himself, is thought to have possiblymay have been of mixed ethnicity—both Japanese and ethnic Han, and may . Hhe may have traveled to the Tang court on or around 653. , based on some of the records, but it isn't entirely clear. For whatever reason, on the 3rd day of the 12th month of the year 659, Kawachi no Aya no Ohomaro slandered the envoys, and although . Wwe don't know exactly what he said, but the Tang court caught wind of the accusations and found the envoys guilty. They were condemned to banishment, until the author of our tale, none other than Iki no Hakatoko himself, stepped up, . He made representation to the Emperor, pleading against the slander. , and tThe punishment was remitted, . Sso they were no longer banished. However, they were also then told that they could no't return home. You see, the Tang court was in the middle of some sensitive military operations in the lands east of the sea—in other words they were working with Silla to and invadeing the Kingdom of Baekje. Since Yamato was an ally of Baekje, it would be inconvenient if the envoys were to return home and rally Yamato to Baekje's defense. And so the entire Yamato embassy was moved to the Western Capital, Chang'an, where they were placed under individual house arrest. They no doubt were treated well, but they were not allowed to leave, and . Tthey ended up spending the next year in this state. of house arrest. Unfortunately, we don't have a record of just how they passed their time in Chang'an. They likely studied, and were probably visited by nobles and others. They weren't allowed to leave, but they weren't exactly thrown in jail, either. After all, they were foreign emissaries, and though the Tang might be at war with their ally, there was no formal declaration of war with Yamato, as far as I can make out. And so the embassy just sat there, for about 9 months. Finally, in the 7th month of 660, the records tell us we are told thatthat tThe Tang and Silla forces had been successful: . Baekje was destroyed.. The Tang and Silla forces had been successful. News must have reached Chang'an a month later, as Iki Hakatoko writes that this occurred in the 8th month of the year 660. With the Tang special military operation on the Korean peninsula concluded, they released the envoys and allowed them to return to their own countries. They envoys began their preparations as of the 12th day of the 9th month, no doubt eager to return home, and left were leaving Chang'an a week later, on the 19th day of the 9th month. From there, it took them almost a month to reach Luoyang, arriving on the 16th day of the 10th month, and here they were greeted with more good news, for here it was that they met up once again with those members of their delegation who had been blown off course. As you may remember, the ship carrying Iwashiki was blown off-course on the 15th day of the 9th month in the year 659, shortly after setting out from the Korean peninsula. The two ships had lost contact and Tsumori no Muraji no Kiza and his ship had been the one that had continued on. Iwashiki and those with him, however, found themselves at the mercy of the contrary winds and eventually came ashore at an island in the Southern Sea, which Aston translates as “Erh-kia-wei”. There appears to be at least some suggestion that this was an island in the Ryukyuan chain, possibly the island of Kikai. There, local islanders, none too happy about these foreigners crashing into their beach, destroyed the ship, and presumably attacked the embassy. Several members, including Yamato no Aya no Wosa no Atahe no Arima (yeah, that *is* a mouthful), Sakahibe no Muraji no Inadzumi (perhaps a relative of Iwashiki) and others all stole a local ship and made their way off the island. They eventually made landfall at a Kuazhou, southeast of Lishui City in modern Zhejiang province, where they met with local officials of the Tang government, who then sent them under escort to the capital at Luoyang. Once there, they were probably held in a similar state of house arrest, due to the invasion of Baekje, but they met back up with Kiza and Hakatoko's party. The envoys, now reunited, hung out in Luoyang for a bit longer, and thus . Thus it was on the first day of the 11th month of 660 that they witnessed war captives being brought to the capital. This included 13 royal persons of Baekje, from the King on down to the Crown Prince and various nobles, including the PRimiePrime Minister, as well as 37 other persons of lower rank—50 people all told. TheThese captives y were delivered up to the Tang government and led before the emperor. Of course, with the war concluded, and Baekje no longer a functioning state, while he could have had them executed, Tang Gaozong instead released them, demonstrating a certain amount of magnanimity. The Yamato envoys remained in Luoyang for most of the month. On the 19th, they had another audience with the emperor, who bestowed on them various gifts and presents, and then five days later they departed the Luoyang, and began the trek back to the archipelago in earnest. By the 25th day of the first month of 661, the envoys arrived back at Yuezhou, head of the Kuaiji Commandery. They stayed there for another couple of months, possibly waiting for the right time, as crossing the sea at in the wrong season could be disastrous. They finally departed east from Yuezhou on the first day of the fourth month, coming to . They came to Mt. Cheng-an 6 days later, on the 7th, and set out to sea first thing in the morning on the 8th. They had a southwest wind initially in their favor, but they lost their way in the open ocean, an all too commonall-too-common problem without modern navigational aids. Fortunately, the favorable winds had carried them far enough that only a day later they made landfall on the island of Tamna, aka Jeju island. Jeju island was, at this point, its own independent kingdom, situated off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula. Dr. Alexander Vovin suggested that the name “Tamna” may have been a corruption of a Japonic or proto-Japonic name: Tanimura. The island was apparently quite strange to the Yamato embassy, and they met with various residents natives of Jeju island. They, even convincinged Prince Aphaki and eight other men of the island to come with them to be presented at the Yamato court. The rest of their journey took a little over a month. They finally arrived back in Yamato on the 23rd day of the fifth month of 661. They had been gone for approximately two years, and a lot had changed, especially with the destruction of Baekje. The Yamato court had already learned of what had happened and was in the process of drawing up plans for an expedition back to the Korean peninsula to restore the Baekje kingdom, and pPrince Naka no Oe himself was set to lead the troops. The icing on the cake was: Tthe reception that the envoys received upon their return was rather cold. Apparently they were had been slandered to the Yamato court by another follower of Han Chihung—Yamato no Aya no Atahe no Tarushima—and so they weren't met with any fanfare. We still don't know what it was that Tarsuhima was saying—possibly he had gotten letters from Chihung or Ohomaro and was simply repeating what they had said. Either way, the envoys were sick of it. They had traveled all the way to the Tang capitals, they had been placed under house arrest for a year, and now they had returned. They not only had gifts from the Tang emperor, but they were also bringing the first ever embassy from the Kingdom of Tamna along with them. The slander would not stand. And so they did what anyone would do at the time: They apparently appealed to the Kami. We are told that their anger reached to the Gods of the High Heaven, which is to say the kami of Takamanohara, who killed Tarushima with a thunderbolt. Which I guess was one way to shut him up. From what we can tell, the embassy was eventually considered a success. Iki no Hakatoko's star would rise—and fall—and rise again in the court circles. As I noted, his account of this embassy is really one of the best and most in depth that we have from this time. It lets us see the relative route that the envoys were taking—the Chronicles in particular note that they traveled to the Great Tang of Wu, and, sure enough, they had set out along the southern route to the old Wu capital, rather than trying to cross the Bohai Sea and make landfall by the Shandong peninsula or at the mouth of the Yellow River. From there they traveled through Nanjing—the southern “capital” likely referring, in this instance, to the old Wu capital—and then to Luoyang. Though they stayed there much longer than they had anticipated, they ended up living there through some of the most impactful events that occurred during this point in Northeast Asia. they And that is something we will touch on next episode. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan
Jeep Talk Show, EGR USA interview, Gladiator bed cover, RollTrac retractable cover, VSL LED cowl lights, Jeep sports bar, in-channel window visors, Jeep off-road accessories, secure Jeep storage, overlanding gear, Jeep community podcast, EGR RollTrac review Description: Join Tony on the Jeep Talk Show for an exclusive interview with Pat Johnson from EGR USA!
Lene Hellstern, director of engineering at PEAK Wind, discusses the critical importance of thorough technical, commercial, and financial due diligence before investing in wind farm projects. She shares insights from her 24 years of experience on how developers can avoid common pitfalls, manage risks, and build better relationships with turbine manufacturers to ensure more accurate power production estimates. Fill out our Uptime listener survey and enter to win an Uptime mug! Sign up now for Uptime Tech News, our weekly email update on all things wind technology. This episode is sponsored by Weather Guard Lightning Tech. Learn more about Weather Guard's StrikeTape Wind Turbine LPS retrofit. Follow the show on Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, Linkedin and visit Weather Guard on the web. And subscribe to Rosemary Barnes' YouTube channel here. Have a question we can answer on the show? Email us! Allen Hall: Wind farm developers often face a challenging reality. Projected power output doesn't match actual performance. This gap can mean millions in lost revenue and unexpected challenges. This week we speak with Lene Hellstern director of engineering at PEAK Wind. With over 24 years of experience analyzing wind projects worldwide, Lene brings crucial insights about what developers need to know before investing millions in wind farm development. This is a great interview. Stay tuned. Welcome to Uptime Spotlight, shining Light on Wind Energy's brightest innovators. This is the progress Powering tomorrow. Allen Hall: Lene, welcome to the program. Lene Hellstern: Good to be here. Allen Hall: We've been wanting to talk to you for a long time. So I'm glad you're on the podcast because your interaction with developers is remarkable and the process that you go through I think is eye-opening. 'cause I don't see that process happening at all wind sites and in Europe I think it happens more commonly. But in the United States not so much. Why or when developers not consulting experts like you before, they spend hundreds of millions of dollars. What is the problem with that? Lene Hellstern: It actually, it does happen, but yeah, sometimes it don't. And yeah, I might not be the right one of asking to ask this question. Maybe you should ask them as well why don't you do it? But I, so for some it's it's budget constraints, right? Because you're a consultant and then they don't immediately see, how this money that I'm paying the consultant, how does that convert into a gain? Profit. It could be seen as some loose and money just because they're asking a lot of questions on technical stuff. It could also be that they are unaware, many are more into the financial part of it. And they have this perception that it's not needed, the the technical due diligence or the commercial due diligence as the financial, because it's like buying a car. It is really not like buying a car. So maybe that is, that's the reason. And that they think, the wind always blows, so it's gotta go the turbine. But that's just not how this world. Joel Saxum: Would it be fair to say that some of your customers have felt the pain or they've gotten burned and that's why they're there? Lene Hellstern: Yes. Yeah. Yeah. And you also, we can ask a lot of questions in the process before you buy the turbines. And then we can cover a lot of risks and you can mitigate before everything falls apart. Right. And that gives them a really good advantage, right? They can cover their themself and take all kind of scenarios into consideration, right? And you get a much, if you ask kindly to the OE em, you do get some answers and you get a better collaboration with the OEM. If you conduct these technical due diligence, if you yell and scream at them, it's not gonna go well. No. Kill with kindness. That's much better than threats. And I want this, and demand that and just ask, right? Allen Hall: So what are they missing? Generally,
Send us a textLee and Simon talk about things that bother them about themselves and learning to live with them. Things covered: Apple iCloud shared accounts and how shit they are, a ladybird backflip a la Jackie Chan, ladybugs, speaking all Northern, living in Lancaster, Blackpool, depressed British seaside towns, PIGS acronym (Portugal, Italy, Greece, Spain), Bob and Lee's ladybirds experience, finding out what ladybirds taste like, Torch Song Trilogy, the difference between hardware and software, knitting stick count in, Simon getting high on his own (bread) supply, Oliver Burkeman's Meditation for Mortals, learning to live with the the things that bother them, people pleasing, Totnes street folk singer who hates Lee, Lee sounding a bit more unhinged, chaos in the world of Bob and Lee (and singing a Christmas Carol), Bob and Lee teaching with Henry and William (their dogs at the time), performing "like me", pay them bitches no mind, self-absorption, Simon's clunking dogging him until he dies, Antipodeans going overseas to see the world (their big OE), risky humour in Turkey, the line between getting it right and getting it very wrong, squaring ourselves with ourselves, being aspirational, human beings recognising their shapes, saying goodbye. Get in touch with Lee and Simon at info@midlifing.net. ---The Midlifing logo is adapted from an original image by H.L.I.T: https://www.flickr.com/photos/29311691@N05/8571921679 (CC BY 2.0)
An overseas experience has long been considered a rite of passage for young New Zealanders - but it could be losing its appeal. A new survey by Auckland Airport shows the days of years-long OEs could be over with most Kiwis opting to return to New Zealand within just a few months. The survey also revealed how many young people are putting off an OE - until they are much older. Felix Walton has more.
On today’s radio show: Do you have such good control over your pelvic floor that you could urinate a recognisable tune? And where is everyone going on their OE... Don’t forget, we drop two new podcast episodes daily, right where you found this one!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Have you ever felt like the traditional overseas experience (OE) or short-term travel just wasn't the right fit for you? Well here is my alternative for long-term, flexible travel that allows for independence, and HUGE self-discovery. We are discussing how to design a lifestyle that works for you, one that goes beyond hostels and fast-paced itineraries. I chat the highs, the challenges and the unexpected lessons that come with remote work and slow travel - my life for the last year! What we discuss:✅ How choosing the right style of travel can change your experience entirely✅ How to know if the digital nomad life and remote work is the right choice for you✅ The difference between doing what you want vs. what you should while traveling✅ The unexpected lessons this lifestyle teaches you✅ Why solo travel might be the best way to start or are you best suited to solo travel?✅ The realities of balancing work, travel, and personal growth✅ What this lifestyle has given vs. what it has taken awayEpisodes I mentioned:"How I Afforded 9 Months of Travel: The Real Story Behind Being a Digital Nomad"Keen to learn more about personal growth, career and money? Find me on Instagram or Tik Tok Thank you for listening, it means so much to me. Please leave a comment, rating or review if you're enjoying and we will chat in the next episode. Need help creating a CV? Here's one of the best FREE CV creators. Want to get in touch directly? sarah@theoneupproject.nz
This episode we kick off a series of episodes following the famous monk Xuanzang, aka the Tripitaka Master of the Law, Sanzang Fashi. Known in Japanese as Genjo, and founder of the Faxiang school of Yogacara Buddhism, also known as the Hosso school, it was brought back to the archipelago by students who studied with the master at his temple north of the Tang capital of Chang'an. He was particularly famous for his travels across the Silk Road to India and back--a trip that would last 16 years and result in him bringing back numerous copies of sutras from the land of the Buddha, kicking off a massive translation work. It also would see his recollections recorded as the Record of the Western Regions, which, along with his biography based on the stories he told those working with him, give us some of the best contemporary information of the various places along the Silk Road in the 7th century. Part 1 focuses on Xuanzang's journey out of the Tang empire, braving the desert, and somehow, against the odds, making it to the country of Gaochang. For more, check out the blogpost page: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-120 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 120: Journey to the West, Part 1 The monks from far off Yamato were enthralled. They had journeyed across the waves on a foreign vessel, traversed a greater distance than they probably thought possible growing up in the archipelago, and had finally arrived at the capital of the Great Tang Empire, Chang'an. They had then been sent north, to a temple where they met others from Yamato. They had come to study the Law, the Dharma, with some of the most famous teachers of the Tang dynasty, and there were few more famous than the Tripitaka Master Genjou himself. Everyone in the monastery knew his story—he had traveled all the way to India, the birthplace of the Buddha, and returned with copies of the sutras in Sanskrit, which he and the other monks were translating. In between sessions of meditation, sutra readings, and various lectures, the students would gather round the feet of the master as he recounted his journeys. The stories themselves were fantastic stories, telling of far off cities and people. There were stories of bandits, and meetings with kings. The students must have thought about how it mirrored what they, themselves, had gone through—their own Journey to the West. Last episode we talked about Tukara and what that mysterious placename might mean—and where it could be referring to. For that we traveled all the way to the end of the Silk Road. In this episode and continuing into the next, we are going to travel that same road with a different perspective, as we take a look at one of the most famous travelers of the Silk Road: the monk Xuanzang, or Genjou in Japanese. And as I hinted at in the introduction, if you're at all familiar with the famous Journey to the West, well, this and the following episodes will explore the actual history behind that story, and how intertwined it is with the history of the archipelago. For those who don't know, Xuanzang was a monk, born Chen Hui near present-day Luoyang in Henan. He is known by many names, but one of his most famous comes from the title “Sanzang Fashi”, aka “Tripitaka Master of the Law”, from which we get the simplified name in some English sources of just “Tripitaka”. Sanzang, or “Tripitaka”, literally translates to “Three baskets” or “Three storehouses”, referring to the Buddhist canon. It is quite fitting, given Xuanzang's incredibly famous Journey to the Western Regions and, eventually, to India, where he journeyed to obtain the most accurate version of the Buddhist scriptures to ensure that they had the most accurate versions. On his journey, Xuanzang apparently took detailed records of the trip, and his “Records of the Western Regions” provides a lot of what we know of the towns and cultures that existed there back in the 7th century – even if not all of it was experienced firsthand and may have come through translators and second or third-hand sources. In addition, Xuanzang's biography and travelogue add a lot more information to his journey, even if they weren't necessarily written by him, but instead by his fellow monks based on his recitations to them combined with various records that they had access to at the time. As such, it isn't always the most reliable, but it is still highly detailed and informative. Xuanzang would return to China and teach for many years, translating the works that he had brought back, and founding a new school of Yogachara Buddhism, known as Faxiang in Chinese, but “Hossou” in Japan. The Hossou school was particularly popular in the 8th and 9th centuries, having been transmitted by Yamato students who had actually studied at the feet of the venerable teacher. These included the monk Doushou, who travelled over to the continent in 653. In 658, there are two others who came over, named Chitatsu and Chiitsu. They had travelled to the Tang court in the 7th month of that year, where they are said to have received instruction from none other than Xuanzang himself. If this indeed was in 658, it would have been only 6 years before Xuanzang's death. Their journey had almost not happened. The year previous, in 657, envoys were sent to Silla to ask that state to escort Chitatsu to the Tang court, along with Hashibito no Muraji no Mimumaya and Yozami no Muraji no Wakugo, but Silla refused. They must have relented, however, as they apparently were escorting at least the monks a year or so later. Chitatsu and Chiitsu would eventually return to Yamato, as would Doushou. Doushou is also said to have been introduced to a student of the second patriarch of the Chan, or Zen school as well. He would return to teach at Gango-ji, the later incarnation of Asukadera, spreading the Hossou teachings from master Xuanzang. In fact, Xuanzang's impact would be felt across Asia, and much of the Buddhist world. He would continue to be known in Japan and in the area of China, Korea, and beyond. Japanese translations of his journeys were made between the 8th and 10th centuries from texts that had come from Xuanzang's own monastery. Nine centuries after his death, during the Ming Dynasty, Xuanzang would be further immortalized in a wildly popular novel: Journey to the West. The “Journey to the West” is an incredibly fantastical retelling of Xuanzang's story. In it, Xuanzang is sent on his task by none other than the Buddha himself, who also provides three flawed traveling companions. There is Zhu Bajie, aka “Piggy”—a half human half pig who is known for his gluttony and lust. Then there is Sha Wujing, aka “Sandy”—a man with a red beard and blue skin who lived in a river of quicksand. Despite a rather frightful backstory, he was often the straight man in the story. And then there is the famous Sun Wukong, aka “Monkey”, the most famous of the three and often more famous than Xuanzang himself. In fact, one of the most famous English versions of the story is just called “Monkey”, an abridged telling of the story in English by Arthur Waley in 1942. “Journey to the West” is perhaps the most popular novel in all of Asia. It has spawned countless retellings, including numerous movies and tv series. The character of “Monkey” has further spun off into all sorts of media. Of course, his addition was all part of the novel, but nonetheless, that novel had an historical basis, which is where we really want to explore. Because for all of the magic and fantasy of the Ming novel, the real story is almost as fascinating without it. We are told that Xuanzang was born as Chen Hui—or possibly Chen Yi—on the 6th of April in 602 CE in Chenliu, near present-day Luoyang. Growing up, he was fascinated by religious books. He joined the Jingtu monastery and at the age of thirteen he was ordained as a novice monk. However, he lived in rather “interesting times”, and as the Sui dynasty fell, he fled the chaos to Chengdu, in Sichuan, where he was fully ordained by the age of 20. Xuanzang was inspired reading about the 4th century monk Faxian, whom we mentioned back in Episode 84. Faxian had visited India and brought back many of the earliest scriptures to be widely translated into Chinese. However, Xuanzang was concerned, as Faxian had been, that the knowledge of the Chinese Buddhist establishment was still incomplete. There were still works that they knew about but didn't have, and there were competing Buddhist theories in different translations of the texts. He thought that if he could go find untranslated versions of the texts then he could resolve some of the issues and further build out the corpus of Buddhist knowledge. Around the age 25 or 27, he began his journey. The exact date is either 627 or 629, based on the version that one reads. That has some importance for the events that his story tells, as some of the individuals whom he is said to have met are said to have died by 627 CE, meaning that either the dates of the journey are wrong or the dates we have in other sources are wrong. As you can imagine, that's rather important for an accurate history, but not so much for our purposes, as I think that we can still trust the broad brush strokes which paint an image of what the Silk Road was like at the time. For context, back in Yamato, this was around the time that Kashikiya Hime—aka Suiko Tenno—passed away, and Prince Tamura was placed on the throne, passing over Prince Yamashiro no Oe, the son of the late Crown Prince, Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. Whoever was on the throne, Soga no Emishi was actually running things, and the Soga family were heavily involved in the establishment of Buddhism in the archipelago. This is relatively around the time of Episode 103. When Xuanzang took off to the West, his intentions may have been pure, but truth be told, he was breaking the law. Tang Taizong had come to power in 626, and the routes along the Tarim Basin were under the control of the Gokturks, whom the Tang were fighting with. As such, travel to the Western Regions was strictly controlled. Xuanzang and several companions had all petitioned Emperor Taizong for permission to leave, but the Emperor never replied. So Xuanzang did not have permission to leave—but he decided to head out, anyway. His companions, however, lost their nerve, and so he set out alone. Of course, he didn't simply set off for the West. At first he went city to city, staying at local Buddhist monasteries and sharing his teachings. To all intents and purposes, this probably seemed like normal behavior for a monk, traveling from monastery to monastery, but it was actually taking him towards the western border. And it was going well until he reached Liangzhou—known today as Wuwei. Li Daliang, governor of Liangzhou, enforced the prohibition that "common" people were not permitted to go to the regions of the western tribes. Word had spread about Xuanzang, and when the governor caught wind of what was going on, he called Xuanzang into an audience to find out what he was planning to do. Xuanzang was honest and told him he was going to the West to search for the Dharma, but the governor ordered him to return to Chang'an instead. Fortunately, there was a Buddhist teacher, Huiwei, who heard about all of this this and decided to help Xuanzang. He had two of his own disciples escort Xuanzang to the west. Since the governor had told him not to go, this was illegal, and so they traveled by night and hid during the day until they reached Guazhou. In Guazhou, the governor, Dugu Da, was quite pleased to meet with Xuanzang, and either hadn't heard about the order for him to return to Chang'an or didn't care. From there, Xuanzang's path was largely obstructed by the deep and fast-flowing Hulu river. They would have to travel to its upper reaches, where they could go through Yumenguan--Yumen Pass--which was the only safe way to cross, making it a key to the Western regions. Beyond Yumenguan there were five watchtowers, roughly 30 miles apart. These watchtowers likely had means to signal back and forth, thus keeping an eye on the people coming and going from Yumen Pass. Beyond that was the desert of Yiwu, also known as Hami. Xuanzang was not only worried about what this meant, his horse died, leaving him on foot. He contemplated this in silence for a month. Before he continued, though, a warrant arrived for his arrest. They inquired with a local prefect, who happened to be a pious Buddhist. He showed it to Xuanzang, and then ended up tearing up the document, and urged Xuanzang to leave as quickly as possible. Yumenguan lies roughly 80-90 kilometers—roughly 50 miles or so—from the town of Dunhuang, the last major outpost before leaving for the Western Regions. Dunhuang had a thriving Buddhist community, and the paintings in the Mogao caves are absolutely stunning, even today—one of the most well-preserved of such collections, spanning the 4th to the 14th century. However, at this point, Xuanzang was a wanted man, and stopping in at Dunhuang might very well have curtailed his journey before it had even begun. Instead, he would likely need to find a way to sneak across the border without alerting anyone and then, somehow, sneak past five watchtowers, each 30 miles or so apart, with no water except what he could carry or steal at each point. At this point, one of Xuanzang's escorts had traveled on to Dunhuang, and only one remained, but Xuanzang wasn't sure his remaining companion was up to the strain of the journey, and he dismissed him, deciding to travel on alone. He bought a horse, and he fortunately found a guide--a "Hu" person named "Shi Pantuo". "Hu" is a generic term often translated simply as "foreigner" or "barbarian" from the western lands, and the name "Shi" referred to Sogdians from Tashkent. The Sogdians were a people of Persian descent living in central Eurasia, between the Syr Darya and Amu Darya rivers. That latter was also known as the Oxus river, hence another name for the region: Transoxiana. Sogdiana appears as early as the 6th century BCE as a member of the Achaemenid Empire, and the region was annexed by Alexander the Great in 328 BCE. It continued to change hands under a succession of empires. The Sogdian city-states themselves were centered around the city of Samarkand, and while they did not build an empire themselves, the Sogdians nonetheless had a huge impact on cultures in both the east and the west. Sogdians became famous as traders along the silk roads, and they built tight knit communities in multiple cities along the route. Families kept in touch over long distances, setting up vast trading networks. In fact, there were even Sogdian communities living in Chang'an and elsewhere in the Tang Empire. The Sogdian An Lushan would eventually rise through the ranks of the Tang dynasty court—but that was almost a century after Xuanzang's travels. There are many material items that the Sogdians helped move across the silk road, but perhaps one of the most striking things were a style of patterned textiles. Sassanid Persia was known for its silk textiles, often woven in images surrounded by a border of pearl-shapes: Small circles in a circular pattern around a central figure, often duplicated due to the way the fabrics were woven. This pearl-roundel pattern was especially taken up by the Sogdians, and their fashion sense made it popular across Eurasia. Large pearl roundel designs were used on caftans, popular throughout the Gokturk qaghanate, and the Tang court would eventually pick up the fashion of these foreigners—generally classified as “hu” by those in Chang'an. With a round neck, closing at the side, this western-style caftan-like garment eventually found its way into Japan as the people of the Japanese archipelago adopted Tang dynasty clothing and fashion. In fact, Japan boasts one of the most impressive collections of silk road artifacts at the Shosoin repository of Todaiji temple in Nara, and it includes clothing and fabric that show the influence of Sogdian and Turkic merchants. The Shosoin collection contains multiple examples of those pearl roundel patterns, for example, and you can even buy reproductions of the design today in Nara and elsewhere. The garments themselves would continue to influence the fashion of the court, indeed giving rise to some of the most popular court garments of the Nara period, and the design continued to evolve through the Heian period until it was almost unrecognizable from its origins. Sogdians were so influential that their language—an Eastern Iranian language known simply as “Sogdian”—was the lingua franca, or the common tongue, through most of the Silk Road. If you knew Sogdian, you could probably find a way to communicate with most of the people along way. Today, Sogdian is extinct, with the possible exception of a single language that evolved from a Sogdian dialect. Sogdians are often known in Sinitic sources by their names—by the time of the Tang dynasty, it was common practice to give foreigners, whose names didn't always translate well into Chinese dialects, a family name based on their origin. For the Sogdians, who were quite well known and numerous, they weren't just classified with a single name, but rather they were divided up by seven names based on where they were from. So the name “Shi”, for instance, indicated that someone was from the area of Tashkent, while the name “An” referred to a Sogdian who was descended from people from the Bukhara, and so on. This was a practice that went at least as far back as the Han dynasty. So, returning to the story, Xuanzang's new Sogdian guide's name is given as “Shi Pantuo”. The name "Pantuo", which would have likely been pronounced more like "b'uan d'a" at the time, is likely a version of the name "Vandak", which was indeed a very common Sogdian name meaning something like “servant” and was often used to indicate things like religious devotion, which could be related to his status as a devout Buddhist, though it also might just be coincidental. Xuanzang was so happy with his guide's offer to help, that he bought him clothes and a horse for his troubles. And so they headed out towards Yumenguan, the Jade Pass or Jade Gate, so called because of the caravans of jade that would head out from the Middle Country ever since the Han dynasty. In fact, the Jade Gate was originally established as part of the western end of the Han dynasty “Great Wall”. This was not necessarily the famous Ming Dynasty wall that most people are familiar with, but the Han Dynasty wall would have been impressively high enough, with regular patrols and beacon towers. So if you tried going over the wall, someone was likely to see you and give chase. There is also the issue that if you had any amount of supplies you have to bring those as well—this isn't just hopping a fence. The wall was augmented by natural features—mountains and deep and fast-flowing rivers, for example, which made walls unnecessary. And then there was also the fact that in many places, it was just open wilderness, which was its own kind of barrier. Trying to go off the beaten path meant wandering through uncharted territory, which someone like Xuanzang was probably not prepared to do. It isn't like he had GPS and Google Maps to help him find his way, and if you got lost in the desert, then who knows what might happen to you. By the way, this was true even in relatively settled places, like the Japanese archipelago, up until modern times. While there were some areas where it was relatively flat, and you could navigate by certain landmarks, if you left the roads and trails you might easily find yourself lost without access to food or shelter. Maps were not exactly accurate. The safest way to travel was to stick to the more well-traveled routes. Unfortunately, that meant going through the Yumen Gate itself. There was a garrison where the road left the territory of the Tang Empire , and that garrison would be responsible for checking the papers of anyone coming into or leaving the empire. Xuanzang, of course, didn't have the proper papers, since he didn't have permission to be there. Fortunately, he had a guide, who seemed to know the area, and that would allow him to bypass the official checkpoint, which Xuanzang recalls seeing off in the distance. Together, Xuanzang and Vandak snuck past the Yumen gate, and traveled several miles up the river. There, they found a spot where the river was only about 10 feet across, near a grove of trees, and so they chopped down a few of them and made an impromptu bridge for them and their horses to cross. From that point on, until they reached Yiwu, they would have to get past the watchtowers. Not only were these watchtowers garrisoned with men of the Tang army, but they were also the only place to get fresh water. The travelers would need to sneak in at night to steal water from the watchtowers without getting caught. The farther they traveled, the more Vandak seemed to be getting cold feet. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue had they been normal travelers, but in trying to avoid the watchtowers they were making themselves into fugitives. If they were caught they could both be killed. He protested several times that they should just go back, and at one point Xuanzang seemed worried that Vandak was contemplating how much easier this would be for him if he just killed the old monk. Finally, Xuanzang told Vandak that he should leave, and solemnly swore that if he was caught he wouldn't rat out Vandak for his help. Vandak, who had been worried about just such a scenario, nonetheless took Xuanzang's word and the two parted ways. From that point on, Xuanzang recounted that the trail through the desert was marked by nothing but skeletons and horse droppings. He thought at one point he saw an army in the desert, but it turned out to be a mirage. Finally, he saw one of the watchtowers he had been warned about. Not wanting to get caught, he lay down in a ditch and hid there until the sun went down. Under cover of darkness, he approached the tower, where he saw water. He went to have a drink, and maybe wash his hands, but as he was getting out his water bag to refill it and arrow whizzed through the air and he almost took an arrow to the knee. Knowing the jig was up, he shouted out: "I'm a monk from the capital! Don't shoot!" He led his horse to the tower, where they opened the door and saw he really was a monk. They woke up the captain, who had a lamp lit so he could see whom it was they had apprehended. Right away it was clear that this traveler wasn't from around those parts—not that anyone really was, it seems. The Captain had heard of Xuanzang, but the report that had been sent said Xuanzang had gone back to Chang'an. Xuanzang, for his part, showed a copy of the petition he had sent to the Emperor--one that he hadn't actually heard back from. He then told the captain what he planned to do. The captain was moved, and decided to look the other way. He gave him a place to stay for the night and then showed him the way to the fourth watchtower, where the captain's brother was in charge, and would give him shelter. Sure enough, Xuanzang made it to the fourth watchtower, but he wasn't sure if he could entirely trust the captain, so again he tried to just secretly steal the water, but again he was caught. Fortunately, the captain there was also sympathetic. He let Xuanzang stay and then actually told him how to get around the fifth watchtower, since the captain there might not be as lenient. He also told Xuanzang about an inconspicuous oasis where he could get water for himself and his horse. Reinvigorated, Xuanzang had another challenge to face. Beyond the watchtowers was a long stretch of desert. It was a journey of several hundred miles, and it started poorly. First off, he missed the oasis that the captain of the fourth watchtower had indicated he could use without anyone firing arrows at him. Then, he dropped his water bag, such that he was left with nothing. He thought of turning back, but he continued, chanting mantras to himself. He was dehydrated and exhausted, but he continued onward. Some days into his journey, his horse suddenly changed course of its own accord. Despite his efforts, it kept going, eventually coming to a pasture of grass around a pond of clean, sweet water. That ended up saving him, and he rested there for a day, before traveling on. Two days later, he arrived at Yiwu, aka Hami. He had made it. He was free. Or at least, he was until he returned to the Tang empire. After all, Xuanzang did plan to come back, and when he did, he would have to face the music. That was a problem for future Xuanzang. Of course, he was also a lone traveler. He might be free, but he was far from safe. He was now entering the Western regions, and he would need to be on the lookout. The people of Hami, also known as Yiwu, were known to the Han dynasty as members of the Xiao Yuezhi—the kingdom or coalition that once controlled much of the northern edge of the Tarim basin. They had been displaced by the Xiongnu, and the area would go back and forth between different hegemons, so that by the time of the Sui and early Tang dynasties they were under the sway of the Gokturks. Still, as close as it was to the Tang borders, they no doubt had contact, and indeed, Xuanzang was given lodging at a monastery with three other monks who were “Chinese”, for whatever that meant at the time. If you've heard of Hami today you may know it for something that it was famous for even back in the 7th century: their famous melons. You can sometimes find Hami melons in stores to this day. Regarding the melons and other such fruits and vegetables—the area of Hami is a fairly arid land. Hami does get some water from the Tianshan mountains, but in order to have enough for agriculture they instituted a system that is still found today in Hami, Turpan, and other parts of the world, including arid parts of northwest India and Pakistan through the middle east to north Africa. It is called a Karez, or in Persian it is called a Qanat, and it is thought to have originated in ancient Persia around the first millennium BCE and spread out through the various trade routes. The idea is to basically create underground aqueducts to take water from one place to another. This would keep them out of the heat and dry air above ground to allow them to continue to flow without losing too much to evaporation. To do that, however, required manually digging tunnels for the water. This would be done by sinking wells at regular intervals and connecting the wells to each other with tunnels. But it wasn't enough for the tunnels to be connected, they had to also slope slightly downwards, but not too much. You want enough flow to keep the water clear, but if it flows too quickly or creates waves, the water might erode the underground channels in ways that could cause problems, such as a collapse. All in all, they are pretty amazing feats of engineering and they can carry water a great distance. Many are under 5 km, but some are around 70 km long. These karez would have been the lifelines of many towns, creating a reliable oasis in the desert. Rivers were great, but the flow could vary from floods to a mere trickle, and the karez system provided relatively constant flow. This allowed for agriculture even in the dry areas of the Western Regions, which helped facilitate the various kingdoms that grew up in this otherwise inhospitable region. While eating his melons in Hami and chatting it up with his fellow eastern priests, Yiwu was visited by an envoy from the neighboring kingdom of Gaochang. Now Hami, or Yiwu, sits at the eastern edge of the Turpan-Hami basin, aka the Turfan depression, a large desert, much of which is actually so low that it is below sea level. In fact, the basin includes the lowest exposed point in the area of modern China at Ayding Lake, which is 158 meters below sea level. From Yiwu to Gaochang, you would follow the edge of the mountains west, to an area near a small break in the mountain range. Follow that break northwest, and you would find yourself at the city of Urumqi, the current capital of the Xinjiang Autonomous Region in modern China. Xinjiang covers much of the area known in ancient times as the “Western Regions” that remains within the modern political boundaries of the PRC. The envoy from Gaochang heard about Xuanzang, and reported back to his lord, King Qu Wentai, who immediately sent a retinue out to escort the Buddhist monk across the desert to his city. They included multiple horses for Xuanzang, so he could change at regular intervals. His own horse was left behind, to be brought along later. After six days on the road, they came to the city of Paili, and since the sun had already set, Xuanzang asked to stop for the night, but the escorts urged him on to the Royal City, which was not much farther on. And so he arrived around midnight, which means he likely couldn't immediately take in the size of the city. Gaochang was an immense walled city, and even today, ruined as it is, the site of it is quite formidable, and it is so well preserved it is considered a UNESCO world heritage site. Perhaps since wood was relatively scarce, this is why so much of the construction was made of brick and earthworks. Fortunately, this means that many of the walls remain, even today—eroded and crumbling, but still towering over those who come to see them. In places they have also been rebuilt or reinforced. And in a few, very rare instances, you can still see some of the traces of paint that would have once been so prevalent throughout a city like this. At this time in history, Gaochang, also known as Karakhoja, was under the command of the Qu family. The population was largely Han Chinese, and it had often been overseen or at least influenced by kingdoms in the Yellow River basin. But it was also the home of Turks, Sogdian merchants, local Turfanians, and more. It was even called “Chinatown” by the Sogdians, and yet attempts to further sinicize the region had provoked a coup only a couple of decades earlier. Even though he showed up in the middle of the night, Xuanzang is said to have been welcomed by the ruler of Gaochang, Qu Wentai, as he entered the city. Perhaps this is why the escorts had been pushing so hard—the King himself was awake and waiting for Xuanzang to make an appearance. The King and his attendants came out with candles in their hands, and they were ushered behind curtains in a multi-storey pavilion. The king apparently grilled him through the night, asking about his journey until it was almost daybreak, at which point Xuanzang requested rest. He was finally shown to a bedroom that had been prepared for him and allowed to sleep. The next day king assembled the leading monks of his kingdom before his guest. These included the monks Tuan Fashi and Wang Fashi. Tuan Fashi had studied in Chang'an for many years, and he knew his Buddhist scholarship. And Wang Fashi was a superintendent, and it was his duty to look after Xuanzang and butter him up with the hope that he might stay and provide the king with the prestige of having such an esteemed monk. They put him up at a monastery next to the royal palace—the “daochang”, aka “dojo” in Japanese, which would be a whole different diversion. Ding Wang suggested that this might be the same as the Chongfu Monastery mentioned in a colophon on a 7th century copy of the Sutra of Perfection of Wisdom for Benevolent Kings. It was found by a German expedition at a site in the Turfan basin in the early 20th century, and now sits in the possession of Shitenno-ji, in Osaka—rather appropriate given that Shitenno-ji was around at the same time all of this was happening. The colophon is attributed to a “Xuanjue”, and a “Xuanjue” from Gaochang, in the Turpan basin, was associated with helping Xuanzang in his later years. Perhaps this Xuanjue first met Xuanzang during this first trip to Gaochang. Qu Wentai tried his best to dissuade Xuanzang from continuing on. This may be simple platitudes from his biographers, but it also may have been genuine. Having a learned foreign monk from the Tang dynasty staying at the palace monastery would likely have added to Qu Wentai's prestige by association, and it would have potentially brought more individuals to the city of Gaochang. Speaking of which, all of this first part of the journey—up to Gaochang—comes primarily from Xuanzang's biography by the monk Huili. Xuanzang's own “Records of the Western Regions” didn't include much on it, probably because by the time that he returned to the Tang empire, Tang Taizong had annexed Yiwu and Gaochang, so all those were now considered part of the empire, rather than foreign regions to the West. After staying a month at Gaochang, Xuanzang decided it was time to continue his journey. Disappointed though Qu Wentai may have been that his guest would be leaving, he nonetheless outfitted him handsomely. He provided goods, including coins, as well as 24 letters to the 24 countries that he would pass along the road, adding a roll of silk to each as a sign that they came from the King of Gaochang. He also gave him food, a small retinue, and horses to help carry everything. Letters of introduction would have been important across the Silk Road. There was, after all, no way to contact someone ahead of time, unless you sent runners. Merchant communities, in particular, would often be connected across long distances through regular caravans, which carried letters to their relatives, facilitating communication across vast distances. Merchants who were bringing in a caravan of goods would know that there was a friendly community waiting to help them when they arrived, and would likely even have an idea of what was happening and what to bring. For someone traveling alone, however, having a letter of introduction would have been important, as they didn't necessarily have access to those communities by themselves. The letters would provide introduction and let people know who you were and may even ask for assistance on your behalf. It may seem a small thing, but it was the kind of gesture that was likely a great help to a traveler like Xuanzang. Remember, he was not on an official mission from the Tang court—almost expressly the opposite, as he had not been given permission to leave. So he wouldn't have had anything identifying him, and after Gaochang he likely couldn't count on being able to communicate with his native tongue. And so he was sent on his way. As he left the city of Gaochang, the king and others accompanied Xuanzang about 10 li, or about 3 or 4 miles, outside of the city. As they watched him head off, who could have known if he would complete his quest? Or would he just end up another ghost in the desert? Next episode, we'll pick up Xuanzang's story as he strikes out for Agni and beyond. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
An Unspoken Creed By Sune Kroghansen Enjoy this special Story in Ciderville from Denmark! “Roedding The restart of the cider adventure in Rødding. In the mid-00s, the villagers of Rødding had begun making cider. It faded due to the focus on grafting, planting and nursing the thousands of apple trees in the apple village. In the fall of 2018, focus was about to change again, apple trees was maturing and a decrease nursing left time for something else. Organized by the association: “Æblets by” — “The Apple Village” a congregation was held, 2 score of interested participants met in the community house of the small village of Rødding in Salling. Amongst was participants living close by in the parish, living in the municipality, the region, and a scarce few from far away. The desire to use the apples for more than just planting. Apple juice production was already a major activity in the village, inspiring the entreprenant townsfolks to move further. Creating activity, community and jobs from the apples grown. Those present discussed opportunities of diversifying activities, moving into cider production along with vinegar, jam, jelly. During the fall of 2018 and winter of 2019, the first cider was fermented. Apples from the gene bank Pometet Nursery part of, University of Copenhagen. Was used I these ferments. Inspired by, among others: Andrew Lea, Cider Chat, Cold Hand Winery, University of Copenhagen Department of Plant Sciences. Fermentation and experimentation started with a steep learning curve: Oe, capsules, corks, aglets, disgorging, remuage, tirage, liquere de expedition, brownhat, so2, eggysmell, ester, alcohol taxes, VAT, tankcleaning, oak, food safety control, acid. We tasted, laughed, spit, drank, smelled with a focus on the experience and excitement of the taste experience. We try to greet a new taste or flavour: “I don't know you, what can you do? What makes you shine?” Of course, everyone has a favorite taste. But experience has taught us. That there is great variation, and “good taste” depends on what the cider is to be used for. The Cider Club meets regularly. Both with a focus on cozy togetherness but also with a focus on technical details, training cider crafting techniques and in taste and sensory. Promoting spreading the joy of fermented apples. I don't know if the word “Creed” or “credo” was discussed, I don't think so! however a “spirit” has been underlying everything though unspoken: The unspoken creed It should taste good. It should be as local as possible. It should preferably be in unmanipulated. Although “natural” is a well-worn word. It is the idea/spirit/dream that we should strive to find: The apple or apple cultivars that make good cider. The cultivar should also be able to: Grow on a healthy, unpruned, untended tree, where we live. They should be easy to press into apple juice. The juice should ferment alone without adding anything other than time. It should be able to keep without any other preservation than a lid. It may be construde as a naive dream that does not abide into modern production society, nor does it fit efficient agriculture. And probably not even practically possible. So there have been deviations from the idea along the way. Mostly to follow the first part of the unspoken creed: “it must taste good” Like a vanilla bean, that tastes fantastic but is not particularly widespread growing in the Danish landscape. So if kakifruits, sulfur, sugar, oak, pineapple, oranges, erythritol, lactose, pasteurization, elderflowers. Are necessary to achieve “good cider” then so be it. The Cider Club is a spirit, and a loose part of an international movement of cider from pure apple juice. We strive to include everyone, and avoid selfishness, selfsufficientness. We are not signers of the “New Nordic Food Manifesto of 2004” but looking back it has influenced us tremendously. With a mixture of epicurean joy of life and the joys of the table. Sustainable thinking and naive optimism. The best we can do, each thing in its own time. BUT we originate from the village of apples so the foundation is the diversity of the old apple cultivars. The hope is to, create something people will choose to enjoy. And It should be fun along the way. Without ruining anything for the world of tomorrow. Wasalling!” Have a story to tell for the “Stories in Ciderville” segment? Must be 3000 words or less or under 4 audio minutes Apples and pommes must be integrated into the story line Send your essay and a recording of yourself reading your essay to info@ciderchat.com Mentions in this Cider Chat Totally Cider Tour to the UK – send an email to info@ciderchat.com to get on the wait list for this 2025 tour taking place August 25-31, 2025 Chicago Cider Week Chicago Cider Summit CiderCon2025
A young French soldier cut off from his unit is beguiled by a mysterious woman, whom he learns is the wife of the local Baron - and that she seemingly died twenty years earlier.To download, right-click here and then click SaveJoin the Journey Into Patreon to get early Outfield Excursions episodes.Episode Art courtesy of Gino Moretto.To comment on this or any episode:Send comments and/or recordings to journeyintopodcat@gmail.comPost a comment on Facebook or on X
We're kicking off Season 5 of the Solder & Soot Podcast with new host Nathan Ingrao who joins veteran host Bobby Duran. This episode will certainly appeal to all engineering and radiator geeks as we sit down with Matt Moore of TitanX who has more than 36 years in the cooling systems industry. From durability testing to the future of electric vehicles, Matt gives us real insight into the OE side of manufacturing. This episode is sponsored by Johnson Manufacturing and 4RFasteners.
Though it may not seem like it on first glance, across Asuka there are various remnants of a much grander period. Postholes tell the story of palaces built over and over on the same spots. In addition, there are the various temples and various carved stone statues and other features. This episode we'll talk about some of the stonework and palace complexes built during Takara Hime's reign, as well as the deadly politics that were still the currency of the court. For more, check out our blogpost at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-118 Rough Transcription Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 118: Stonework and Treason Before we dive into the episode, a quick shout out to thank Bodil for supporting us on Ko-Fi.com. For information on how you can also help support the show, we'll have information at the end of the episode or go check out our podcast page at SengokuDaimyo.com. And now, on with the episode: Soga no Akaye's mansion was busily quiet. There was plenty of chatter, but it was mostly in hushed tones as servants busied themselves with their work, but wondered what was going on. They couldn't help but notice the high ranking visitors that had come. It was to be expected, though. After all, their master was in charge while the rest of the court was away on a retreat, comforting the sovereign in her grief. And so why wouldn't people be showing up to meet with him? But nobody was quite sure what all of these visitors were discussing. They had all gone into an upper story of the building, but the crowd included some powerful figures, including, some said, a royal prince. Who's who and where people stood in the court were always topics of discussion, but especially now. After all, what they were dealing with was unprecedented: who had heard of a sovereign stepping down in the first place, let alone stepping back up because they then outlived their successor? But she was no spring chicken, either. Surely it would be her son that would finally ascend the throne next, right? But that was never guaranteed. Either way, some of the servants grumbled, a change would be nice. Ever since the royal family had moved back to Asuka, formally making it the capital again, there had been a flurry of activity. Sure, it meant that a certain amount of prestige returned to that region, and houses that had been in disrepair were suddenly occupied again. But there was so much more. Just about all of the available labor pool that wasn't working the fields was working on this project or that—there was almost nothing left for anyone else. How was anyone else supposed to get things done when all of the able-bodied people were already toiling on the sovereign's own vanity projects? And after building that giant government complex in Naniwa, no less! Such was, I imagine, the hushed rumor-mongering going on in the house when suddenly there came a loud “crack” as of a piece of wood snapping in two. Later they would learn that an old wooden rest had broken, but that wasn't immediately obvious. The servants did notice that shortly thereafter, their visitors began to depart, heading back to their own mansions. As for Soga no Akaye, he said nothing, but he seemed drained. He had a heavy look, as though he was bearing an incredible weight. Soon thereafter, he requested a brush and some paper, and he began to write out a letter… So we are talking about the second reign of Takara Hime, who came back to the throne in 655, following the death of her brother, Prince Karu, known as Koutoku Tennou. For the first time she reigned, the Chroniclers gave her the name “Kougyoku Tennou”, but for her second reign she would be known in the Chronicles as “Saimei Tennou”. We already discussed some of what was recorded as happening in the north during Takara Hime's second reign, with the Emishi and the Mishihase and the expeditions by Abe no Omi no Hirafu. This episode we are going to focus more on what was going on in the Home Provinces of Yamato—and most specifically the impact that Takara Hime's reign would have on Asuka. I've noted in the past how modern Asuka can seem like your typical rural Japanese town. Roads weave between rice fields, flanked by densely packed neighborhoods at the foot of the green hills or lining the shores of the Asuka river. To the north, the valley opens onto the vast Nara basin—a largely flat region that is much more heavily populated but still would be considered “inaka”, or rural country, by anyone from a metropolis like Tokyo or Ohosaka. To the south, the land rises up into mountain peaks. Beyond that ridge, the land drops into the Yoshino River Valley, but otherwise the rest of the Kii peninsula, to the south, is covered in a sparsely populated mountain range, where small villages carve out a life in the nooks and crannies between the numerous ridges, finding the rare spot of flat land to build houses and plant their fields. Looking at it today, Asuka might seem idyllic, rural, and calm. And yet, back in Takara Hime's day, it was anything but. When Takara Hime moved back to Asuka, she went on a building spree. In fact, the Chronicles actually complain about all of the building that she was doing, and we'll get to that. Much of this episode is going to revolve around her building projects, as well as her comings and goings. While we'll talk about what the Chronicles say, I also want to talk about some of what still remains in Asuka. Certainly the grand palaces are gone, for the most part leaving little more than post-holes, lying beneath the rice fields. A bit more obvious are the various kofun, scattered across the landscape, but beyond that there we also see stone works, including numerous carved stones, which range from crude statues, which may have been minimally worked, to elaborate fountains, which would have used natural water pressure to create impressive waterworks. These latter works demonstrate the sophistication of the masons of the time, and hint at the grandeur of the various palaces, gardens, and mansion complexes that once populated the landscape. And if you want a little feeling of what it is like, I talked a bit about walking through Asuka in a bonus episode back in March of 2024—if you are interested, look up “Traveling Through the Ancient Nara Basin, Part 2. So along with what we see in the Chronicles, I want to talk about some of these other features, even if we aren't entirely sure of when, exactly, they were built. There are a few, though, that we do suspected were built in this period, by Takara Hime, or at least at her order. So we'll talk about those as we get there. Her reign wasn't all about building things, though. Politics in the Yamato court remained as cutthroat as ever. Although Prince Naka no Oe, Takara Hime's son, had been designated as “Crown Prince” he had not taken the throne, despite being of age, and we aren't told why, though the fact that Takara Hime had previously abdicated because of the events of the Isshi Incident, back in 645 (see Episode XX) may have meant that she was still considered the senior eligible member of the royal line. Then there was the case of Prince Arima. Prince Arima was the son of Karu, aka Koutoku Tenno, which made him Naka no Oe's cousin. This wouldn't have meant anything had his father not ascended to the throne. And under the succession practices of the time, although Naka no Oe was designated as the Crown Prince, that wasn't a guarantee that he would be next in line, so Prince Arima may have been a potential candidate. However, there is at least one source that says Prince Arima was not yet of age, but still a teenager. Still, that was no doubt old enough for some in the court to support him—and as we'll see in later centuries, age limits could be negotiable. So we'll also discuss that, as well. So let's get into it. When the royal family first moved back to Asuka, in 653, they took up residence in the temporary palace of Kahabe no Miya. Unfortunately, this name doesn't tell us much about where the palace was located. There is one theory that the Kawabe no Miya might be at what is known as the Asuka Inabuchi Palace site, up in the Asuka river valley, in the modern Iwaido district, a little south of the famous Ishibutai kofun site. This is believed to have been a palace—or at least the mansion of some very wealthy family—given its layout, including what appears to be a cobblestone courtyard, and the lack of any roof tiles, which would have been reserved for temples, at that time. The term “temporary” palace comes up a lot in the Chronicles. In most of the cases where it is used, it suggests that there was already a building in place and the sovereign took up residence there, hence the term “temporary” palace. Often times we see that a temporary palace is said to have been “built”, at which point I have to wonder if that is truly the case—did they actually build a brand new structure to temporarily house the sovereign and the royal family—or does it just refer to the fact that they may have taken an existing compound and perhaps made some slight changes to accommodate the royal dignity? Unfortunately, the Chronicles don't really go into much detail. Wherever the Kawabe no Miya happened to be, it does seem to have been temporary, as we later see Takara Hime back at the Itabuki palace, and indeed she reascended the throne there in 655. The Itabuki palace first shows up in Takara hime's first reign, and seems to be one of at least two royal palaces in Asuka at the time, the other one being the Woharida Palace. The Woharida palace had been around for a while – it was noted as early as 603, in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno, and there is the suggestion that it was still around in the time that Karu, aka Kotoku Tenno, was reigning. We know that Takara Hime took up residence there at some point during her own reign as well. But in 643 she had the Itabuki palace built, though apparently that didn't mean that the Oharida palace was completely torn down and abandoned – it just was no longer the primary site of court ritual. Of course, the Itabuki palace wouldn't be the seat of the government for long, either, as the Isshi Incident took place there in 645, and Karu would subsequently move the capital to Naniwa, building the Toyosaki palace. And so the Itabuki palace remained, but was not exactly kept up, so that when the royal family returned to Asuka, it wasn't ready for them to inhabit, and likely required extensive renovation. Nonetheless, it was being inhabited two years later, when Takara hime again ascended the throne. A quick note here about the name “Itabuki”, because we think that this likely referred to a very specific style of construction that was used. Up to this point, as far as we can tell, the primary roofing material for all major buildings was a kind of local thatching – we still see this today on some shrines and other buildings. “Itabuki”, in contrast, refers to a roof made with wooden boards. Today, we have buildings with rooves where the roof shingles are overlapping boards of wood or bark from the cypress tree: thin layers stacked one on top of the other. Even today, the modern Imperial Palace in Kyoto uses wood shingles rather than the curved roof tiles that many people think of when they think of Asian architecture. So that's the Itabuki palace, all spruced up and ready for Takara hime to occupy again. That said, remember the older Woharida palace, the other one in Asuka? Later in 655, a project was started to update that palace as well. We are told that as of the 13th day of the 10th month there had been a plan to add roof tiles to one of the buildings at the Woharida palace, but unfortunately much of the timber from the mountains and valleys that was designated for the project was found to be too weak from rot, and so they decided to not go forward with that plan. I would note here that tiled rooves, while they might seen somewhat easier to put together—after all, you only need a layer of interlocking and overlapping tiles—are extremely heavy. They are known to deform the wooden structures underneath them, and can weigh hundreds of pounds per square foot. Much of the classic shape of these tiled rooves developed over time to compensate for some of that weight, so this makes me wonder if the wood the palace craftspeople brought in was really that rotten, or if it was just not strong enough for the work that they were trying to do. After all, were they applying the same techniques as for a temple, or were they simply trying to replace traditional thatching or shingles with clay tiles? Either way, the project failed, even after all of the work that had gone into it. This is a small entry in the Chronicles, but it would have meant levying corvee labor that had to go out to the designated regions to source the timber, not to mention setting up the kilns to make the tiles, as well as other preparations that would have been necessary. In other words, a lot of work, for apparently no payoff. On top of that, we are told that around that time, in the winter of that year—which would have been the 10th, 11th, or 12th month, roughly corresponding from late November to February of the following year—the Itabuki palace caught fire and burned down, and so the sovereign and her retinue decamped to the temporary palace of Kawara – the River Plain or Field. “Kawara” could theoretically refer to just about any flat area by a river. Aston points out that “Kawara” can also mean “rooftile”, which is interesting given what we just talked about, the entry immediately before that deals with attempting to add new rooftiles to a part of the Oharida palace. However, there is some thought that this refers to the Kawara Temple, Kawaradera, and you can find claims that Kawaradera was built on the site of the temporary palace. There is a reference to Kawaradera in the previous reign, in the year 653, though another source apparently says it was talking about Yamadadera, instead. There isn't another mention of “Kawaradera” that I can find until 673, so it is entirely possible that the temple started its life off as a mansion or even a temporary royal palace of some kind, and was later turned into a temple. Kawaradera itself is rather interesting. If you visit the site, today, you can see large stone bases that help to demonstrate the size of the ancient temple. It was one of the four Great Temples of Asuka, along with Asukadera, Kudara Ohodera, and Yakushiji. And yet, unlike the other three, we don't have clear indications about its founding in the Chronicles. When the capital eventually moved to Heijo-kyo, in Nara city, many of the other temples were removed to the new capital, but not, as far as I can see, Kawaradera. Donald McCallum suggests that this is because it was replaced, instead, by Koufukuji, a temple with deep ties to the descendants of Nakatomi no Kamatari, the Fujiwara clan. He suggests that mention of the temple in the official records may have even been suppressed by individuals such as Fujiwara no Fubito. Kawaradera remained in Asuka. Eventually it fell to ruin, but there is still a small temple on the site, known as Gu-fuku-ji. As for the Kawara Palace, if Kawaradera really was in operation by 653, it is possible that the sovereign took over some of the buildings at Kawaradera, or perhaps the temporary palace was simply somewhere nearby. In any case, they don't seem to have stayed there for too long—they started work on a new palace the following year. This was the later Okamoto Palace, and from what we can tell it was built on the same site as the Itabuki Palace, south of Asukadera. This site would see multiple palaces over the years, and even today you can go and see some of the post-holes that they have found, indicating the size of the complex through the years. Based on the layout and size of the Asuka palaces, it seems that these early palaces focused on the “dairi”, the private quarters of the sovereign. This seems to have ignored the reforms made with the Toyosaki palace design in Naniwa in the early 650s. That palace, which was built on an incredibly grand scale, consisted of both the private quarters and the public government offices. But in Asuka the royal family's “palace” appears to have only consisted of the private quarters, for the most part. So where was the actual bureaucracy happening? Were there other facilities we don't know about? Or perhaps, the Toyosaki palace itself was overly ambitious, and there wasn't actually the staff for such a grand complex? After all, they were just setting up the bureaucracy and perhaps their reach had exceeded their grasp. Or was it the case that things werestill being run out of the palace complex in Naniwa while the sovereign lived in Asuka? That seems to have been roughly 10 hours away, by foot, though perhaps only half that by horse. The northern end of the Asuka valley is not as well suited to a large palace complex. Not only was it already full of temples and the like, but the ground itself rises to the south, and the hills on either side start to come together. It certainly isn't the kind of place to layout a grand city. But perhaps that was not the intent—at least not immediately. It didn't matter much, though, because the Later Okamoto palace, as it came to be known, was not long for this world. Scarcely had it been built and occupied but that it caught fire and burned down—another expenditure of funds and labor that were once more counted as nothing. In fact, Takara hime was apparently on a tear, and went ahead and initiated quite a few projects that happened in 656. We are told that nearby Tamu Peak was crowned with a circular enclosure, close to where two “tsuki” trees grew. A “lofty” building was erected and called both Futatsuki no Miya (the Palace of the Two Tsuki) and Amatsu Miya (the Palace of Heaven). She also had a new palace erected in Yoshino, possibly as a seasonal retreat. And with this she was just getting started. She also had laborers dig a canal all the way from the western end of Mt. Kaguyama all the way to Mt. Isonokami. We are told that 200 barges were then loaded with stone from Mt. Isonokami and hauled to the mountain east of the palace, where the stones were piled up to form a wall. This last one had people up in arms. They called the canal the “mad canal” and said that it wasted the labor of over 30,000 people. On top of that, she used 70,000 men to build the wall. To top it all off, the timber for the palace rotted away and the top of the mountain where they were building collapsed. We are told that people cursed it all, crying out: “May the mound built at Iso no Kami break down of itself as fast as it is built.” So, yeah, people weren't too happy. We, however, just might be – because all of this building work? It leaves traces in the landscape. We aren't always sure about locations in the Chronicles, as it is very easy for names to shift over time or for things to be renamed at a later date. But what we do know is that there are quite a few examples of stone work in the Asuka region. There is the kame-ishi stone that looks only vaguely carved—it appears to have two carved eyes, but otherwise appears to use the natural shape of the stone to evoke a tortoise—that sits near the site of Kawaradera and Tachibana-dera. There are the various saruishi—carved figures that are purportedly based on saru, or monkeys, but are likely meant to represent people. They may have once adorned an elite family's garden or similar, and they were since moved to the tomb of Kibitsu hime. There are various fountains and waterworks. And then there are the Sakafune-ishi ruins, sitting along a ridge east of the palace site. This consists of a large stone up on the hill, with carved channels that appear to be made to channel water poured into the grooves. At the bottom of the hill there is a turtle shaped stone basin, filled from a boat-shaped water tank. Across the hill is example of stone work, including possible walls. Given the apparent age of everything, and its location, it is thought that this may all be part of the Futatsuki no Miya complex that Takara hime built. Unfortunately, it is still not clear how it was meant to operate. After Asuka was abandoned as the capital, knowledge of the site also disappeared. There were some stories that arose about the stone that it was used for some kind of sake-brewing, hence the name, but nothing truly concrete has arisen. There may have been other structures, perhaps made of wood, that are no longer present, and the stone itself appears to have broken and eroded away over the years. It may have been meant as a ritual site, or perhaps it was just built as some kind of wonder for the people. It doesn't fit into any clear model of any Buddhist or even ancient Shinto practice, nor is it clearly connected to other continental practices. We certainly know that they did plenty with water, given the number of waterworks and other carved stones, including a model of Mt. Sumera, we are told was built to the west of Asukadera on the 15th day of the 7th month of the following year—657. Maybe these are remnants of that project Whatever its purpose, the Sakafune-ishi site does seem to compare favorably with what is described in the Nihon Shoki, and perhaps it was considered such a waste of resources just because it didn't fit in with the prevailing ritual culture. Maybe Takara hime was too artistically avant-garde for her time. “Wasting resources” would, in fact, become a chief complaint against Takara Hime during her time on the throne. And that takes us from seemingly harmless construction projects into the court politics of the day. Now as you should recall, Prince Naka no Oe, Takara Hime's son, was the Crown Prince at this point, and quite influential. He was supported by various courtiers, such as Nakatomi no Kamatari, the Naidaijin, but his eventual ascendancy to the throne was not entirely assured. We've seen plenty of examples where someone would seem to be in line for the throne and they didn't ever make it. We know that there were several other royal princes at this time. One of the youngest was Prince Takeru, a grandson of Takara Hime, who was born around 651. Then there was Prince Naka no Oe's brother, Prince Ohoama. He was also one of Takara Hime's sons, and while we haven't heard much of him in the narrative, we will definitely see more of him in the future. On top of the two of them, there is Prince Arima, whom I talked about at the beginning of the episode. Prince Arima was mentioned as the son of Karu and Wotarashi Hime, but his mother was not Karu's Queen—that was Hashibito, daughter of Okinaga Tarashi-hi Hironuka, aka Jomei Tennou, and Takara Hime. Yup, Karu basically married his own niece, though that may have been an attempt to keep the most direct connection possible to the royal line. Arima's mom Wotarashi Hime, on the other hand, was the daughter of Abe no Kurahashi no Oho-omi—the Minister of the Left, or Sadaijin, during Karu's reign. Strictly speaking, based on the way that the succession has been depicted so far, Prince Arima wouldn't technically meet the requirements. That said, we've seen where that has been bypassed in the past, and no doubt people were aware just how easily it would be to rewrite the history, if they had to. He was young—but not so young that he couldn't be involved in the politics of the court. Other than a note about his parentage at the start of Karu's reign, Prince Arima isn't mentioned again until the ninth month of 657, and right off the bat you can tell where the Chroniclers fall on his personality. They describe him as deceitful, and claim that he pretended to be insane—a term that doesn't really show up elsewhere, so it is hard to know what exactly is meant. Is he the Hamlet of his age? Arima used this as an excuse to go to Muro Onsen—thought to be modern Shirahama Hot Springs, on the southwestern end of the Kii Peninsula. When he came back he sang its praises, claiming that “scarce had I seen that region, when my complaint disappeared of itself.” The Queen wanted to go and see for herself. Overall, this hardly seems to be very “deceitful”, though it is suspected that Arima may have feigned an illness to avoid some of the politics around the start of the new reign. Given his father Karu's recent death, it would likely have been easy enough to claim that he was greatly depressed. We aren't told how long he stayed at Muro Onsen, but presumably it was for some time. At the start of the following year, on the 13th day of the first month, Kose no Tokuda no Omi, the Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, passed away. This would have no doubt created some ripples, but little more is said—we don't even have the name of who succeeded him in the position, at least not in the Nihon Shoki. Four months later, which is to say in the fifth month of that same year, 658, Prince Takeru passed away. He was only 8 years old, but as the grandson of Takara Hime a temporary tomb was constructed in the Imaki valley. Takara Hime lamented his death greatly, and in the 10th month, she took Arima's advice and went to visit the Ki Onsen. She had several poems composed and handed them to Hata no Ohokura no Miyatsuko no Mari to record them for posterity. While she was away, Soga no Akaye no Omi was the acting official in charge. And several weeks in, he addressed Prince Arima. He noted that there were three problems with Takara Hime's government. First – She builds treasuries on a great scale, collecting the riches of the people. Second – She wastes the public grain revenue in digging long canals. Third – She loads barges with stones and transports them to be piled up into a hill. This may have been popular opinion, but it was also rather treasonous talk. Prince Arima simply smiled and said: “I have only now come to an age where I am fit to bear arms.” So, yeah, he was basically saying that he was old enough to take up arms—and presumably lead others in a rebellion, if that was the case. Two days later, on the fifth day of the 11th month, Prince Arima met Akaye at his mansion. They went into one of the upper stories, where they wouldn't be interrupted, and there they conspired together. Others were also involved, it seems—Mori no Kimi no Oho-ishi, Sakahibe no Muraji no Kusuri, and Shihoya no Muraji no Konoshiro. There are a few different books that claim to record what the plans were. One says that Soga no Akaye, Shihoya no Konoshiro, Mori no Oho-ishi, and Sakahibe no Kusuri divined the future of their conspiracy by drawing slips of paper, to see how it would turn out. Another book states that Arima claimed he would burn down the palace and take 500 men to march down south. There he would waylay Takara Hime at the harbour of Muro. They were going to exile her to Awaji island, setting up a fleet of ships to ensure she could never leave. As they were discussing what to do—no doubt talking about how the Prince could take the throne, a leg-rest that they were using broke. Another book claims it was an arm-rest, instead, but otherwise the details are the same. They both agreed that was a bad omen, and decided not to proceed any further with their plans. Prince Arima returned home, but apparently Soga no Akaye had a change of heart. He apparently figured that his only way out was to turn in the others and admit everything. And so, that night, Akaye sent Mononobe no Enowi no Muraji no Shibi, who was in charge of the labourers working on the palace. They surrounded the palace and then Akaye sent a mounted courier to inform Takara Hime. That letter must have laid everything out. Takara hime had the conspirators arrested and brought to Ki Onsen. Arima's servant, Nihitabe no Muraji no Yonemaro, followed them. Prince Naka no Oe himself questioned Arima about why he plotted treason. Arima's answer is a bit cryptic: “Heaven and Akaye know.” He responded, “I do not understand at all.” In the end, all of the conspirators were found guilty, and executed. Tajihi no Wosaha no Muraji no Kuniso was sent to do the task. Prince Arima was strangled at the Fujishiro acclivity, along with Shihoya no Konoshiro and Nihitabe no Yonemaro. Before being executed, Konoshiro made a rather macabre request, asking that—presumably after he was dead—they cut off his right hand and make it a national treasure. The other two conspirators, Mori no Oho-ishi and Sakahibe no Kusuri, were merely banished, presumably having played less of a role. Once again, we must remember that we are only getting one side of the story. It is definitely convenient for Naka no Oe to have a potential rival out of the way. At the same time, it is certainly plausible that there was more than a little bit of consternation about how Takara Hime had been spending so much on all of these construction projects. And yet… were these Takara Hime's projects, alone? Remember, Prince Naka no Oe seems to have had a fair bit of clout. He orchestrated the original coup, where he killed Soga no Iruka and his father. And then he declined the throne, but became a major part of the new government. He was apparently powerful enough that he organized the move back to Asuka against the wishes of Karu no Ohokimi. So would all of these projects have been done without his involvement? This is an area where I have to admit that I probably need to check my bias. On the one hand, it is rare enough in patriarchal accounts to see women with agency and in positions of power, and so it is easy enough to make an assumption that any agency they are given in the record, they likely had more than is mentioned. At the same time, in this particular instance, at least, Takara Hime's role in this could just as easily be a cover to preserve the image of Naka no Oe, who is certainly portrayed as a hero figure, bringing much needed change and modernization—such as it was—to Yamato. His enemies are always shown to be in the wrong, and even if he is accused of something horrible—such as the death of Soga no Ishikawa no Maro—it turns out that it was actually the fault of someone else, such as the person who slandered Maro to him in the first place. So could it be that these unpopular construction projects were actually his doing, all along? Was the conspiracy simply to overthrow Takara Hime, or was it focused on both her and Naka no Oe, together? To be honest, I couldn't say for certain. All we have to go on is what the Chroniclers tell us, and they lay the blame fairly firmly at the feet of Takara Hime. But do remember that Naka no Oe is not necessarily the Shining Prince that he is often made out to be, and that people rarely come to or stay in power in a society like Yamato's by being nice all the time. We certainly know what he is capable of from the Isshi Incident, and we shouldn't forget that in the narrative. Now when Takara Hime returned from Ki Onsen after winter ended, in the new year. We are told that she got back on the third day of the first month of 659. A couple of months later, on the first day of the third month, she went to Yoshino and held a banquet there—no doubt at the palace she had had constructed. This may have been at the site of Miyataki Ruins, where excavations have revealed numerous examples of roof tiles and other artifacts that may have come from a building from the Asuka or Nara era. The visit to Yoshino must have been quick, however, as we are told that two days later she visited Hira-ura in Afumi, on the shores of Lake Biwa. Perhaps this only means she left two days later, since that must have been quite the journey back in the day. Would she have traveled on horseback, or in a carriage or something similar? No doubt a full procession would take time, and I doubt that the sovereign would push herself. We also don't have a reason for her to go, that I can see. It is an odd entry, to say the least. And I think it may be best to end it there. I do encourage anyone who can to get down to Asuka and plan to spend a couple of days if you really want to get around. You may want to rent a bike or even a car to get to everything, though you can walk to most things. There are several museums and cultural centers set up to expound upon Asuka culture, with a focus on the history and archaeology specifically of that period. The palace site where Takara Hime ruled would continue to be the location of at least two more palaces, which we'll talk about in time. Before that, though, we'll want to cover a few more things. Most importantly, we'll want to talk about the relationship with lands outside of the archipelago. We'll discuss the man from Tukhara—who may have simply been from the Ryukyu islands, or possible from as far aways the Dvaravati Kingdom, in modern day Thailand, or even from the western edge of India and Pakistan, having traveled the Silk Road. Some have even suggested that he may be a Tocharian, and we'll talk about what that means. And then, before we finish, we'll have to talk about everything else going on, including the conclusion of the Tang-Baekje war. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
Happy New Year! This is our 2025 recap episode. In this case, we actually are recapping a fair bit more than just the year, going over the previous evolution of the Yamato state up to the period of the Great Change, or Taika, which we covered this past year. There's a lot more that we expect to get into this next year, and this will hopefully tee us up for what is to come. For more, including a full list of our previous references, check out: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-newyear2025 Rough Transcript Shinnen Akemashite! Happy New Year and Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is the New Year's Recap episode for 2025! It's that time again: we are going to look back at what happened in the episodes this year. That was only episodes 101 to 117—we'll skip the travelogue episodes for the time being. This covered the years of the early to mid-7th century, from roughly 613 to 659. That is easily within the lifetime of a single individual, and yet a lot was going on. At the start of this year, we were at the height of Soga power. In 2023, we covered how back in 587, Soga no Umako had wrested power away from the powerful Mononobe clan, defeating Mononobe no Moriya. As you may recall, the sovereign known to posterity as Jimmu Tennou was the descendant of the Heavenly Grandchild known as Ninigi no Mikoto, at least according to the Nihon Shoki. The Mononobe clan claimed descent from none other than Nigi Hayahi, the Other Heavenly Grandchild, whose offspring were said to have been defeated by Jimmu. You may recall that scholars generally consider the story of Jimmu, and the nine sovereigns that immediately followed him, as almost certainly a later addition to the story of the royal lineage. So when did the story of Nigi no Hayahi's defeat enter the picture? And was its inclusion perhaps related to the defeat of the Mononobe by the Soga family? A family that successfully intermarried with the Royal House, themselves, such that all later sovereigns would trace their ancestry back to the Soga house? Of course, under Soga dominance we saw the rise of figures like the Soga descended Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno. During her reign, major reforms were carried out, Buddhism became fully established by the State, and ties with the continent were strengthened. Politics would continue to be dominated by Soga, even after the death of Soga no Umako and Kashikiya Hime, with Soga no Emishi taking up the mantle of Prime Minister, working closely with his son, Soga no Iruka. The Soga family was so entwined with the politics of rulership that the main rivals of the Soga were… the Soga. That is to say different Soga-descended lineages, like that of the Prince Umayado, aka Prince Shotoku. Rather than supporting Umayado's son, Prince Yamashiro no Oe, Soga no Emishi backed another candidate to the throne, Prince Tamura. , of the royal Okinaga lineage. Tamura came to power as Jomei Tenno, but there is little doubt that Soga no Emishi was the one in control. Later, when Tamura passed away in 641, Yamashiro no Oe continued to be passed over. In fact, Soga no Emishi supported the ascension of Tamura's wife, Takara hime, over Yamashiro no Oe, and there is evidence that he supported a prince known as Furubito no Oe as the Crown Prince and eventual successor. All of the evidence—which, to be honest, is rather biased—suggests that the Soga family were setting up a series of puppet rulers who would do their bidding, or at least be pliable to their suggestions. There must have been some pushback, though, especially when one considers how strong the cult of Prince Shotoku, aka Umayado, would eventually become. One imagines that Prince Yamashiro was another pole around which those who opposed the Soga family could rally. After all, he was the son of Crown Prince Umayado, and likely had just as much of a claim as Tamura and his children. And so, to counter this threat, Soga no Emishi's son and successor, Soga no Iruka, took matters into his own hands. In a brazen display of the violence of court politics, Soga no Iruka had Yamashiro no Oe accused of plotting against the throne and took an army to arrest him—no doubt in the hope that the prince would resist. Eventually they cornered Yamashiro and his family, who committed suicide rather than submit. This attack was likely targeted to take out the rival to the Soga family's preferred Crown Prince, Prince Furubito no Oe, but rather than quell any dissent, the move seems to have enflamed the passions of those who wanted to see an end to the Soga house. Those passions took particular root in none other than Furubito no Oe's younger brother, Prince Naka no Oe. Together with the support of his uncle, Prince Karu; the head of the Nakatomi house, Nakatomi no Kamatari; as well as another scion of the Soga house, Soga no Kuroyamada, Prince Naka no Oe staged a coup d'etat. Using the death of Prince Yamashiro no Oe as an excuse, they engineered a plot to assassinate Soga no Iruka in court, in front of Naka no Oe's own mother, Takara Hime no Oho-kimi. After Iruka's death, Naka no Oe and his supporters then took the fight to Soga no Emishi, who committed suicide and set his own house on fire in what came to be known as the Isshi Incident. This shocking assassination caused Takara hime to step down. The Soga-backed Prince Furubito no Oe, rather than stepping up and taking the throne, retreated to a Buddhist temple and took holy orders, effectively retiring and theoretically taking himself out of court politics. That left Prince Naka no Oe and his uncle, Prince Karu, as possible candidates. We are told that Prince Naka no Oe declined to take the throne himself, instead supporting his uncle, Prince Karu. Prince Karu took the throne, and is known to us as Kotoku Tenno, today. Prince Naka no Oe stepped up as the Crown Prince, and with the help of his co-conspirators, such as Nakatomi no Kamatari, Soga no Kurayamada, and others, they began a project to remake the Yamato government, using continental models—specifically the Sui and Tang courts, which were also influencing the governments of the Korean peninsula, such as those of Baekje and Silla. This is known as the Taika, or Great Change, era. There had been previous movements to adopt some of the continental trends, but nothing to this extent, which culminated in a tremendous palace complex built in Naniwa—modern Ohosaka. Governors were sent out to the east of the country. The old, decentralized system was being replaced by a centralized bureaucracy. And yet this wasn't entirely a smooth transition. Early on there was a threat by supporters of the previous Crown Prince, Furubito no Oe. He was killed to put down any possible revolt. Later, Naka no Oe was hoodwinked into going after his own co-conspirator, Soga no Kurayamada, resulting in Kurayamada's death and the punishment of his entire family. A few years later, Naka no Oe moved back to Asuka, taking most of the royal family and the court with him, abandoning the grand government complex that they had built in Naniwa for reasons that remain unclear. Shortly thereafter, Karu, aka Kotoku Tenno, passed away. But rather than Naka no Oe taking the throne—or even Karu's son, Prince Arima—the throne went back to Naka no Oe's mother, Takara Hime. This is the only case we have of a single sovereign reigning twice, and the Chroniclers gave her two separate regnal names—Kogyoku Tenno to refer to her first reign and Saimei Tenno to refer to her second. And this is the reign that we are going to start the new year with. Beyond what was going on on the archipelago, there was also plenty that we covered on the continent. We started the year with the Sui dynasty having consolidated control and working to continue to expand their territory north, south, and west, while also connecting the economic areas of the Yangzi and Yellow rivers. Unfortunately, through their wars and public works projects they overextended themselves, and the dynasty fell, replaced, in 619, with the Tang dynasty. The Tang continued to expand, taking control of important points on the Silk Road and becoming a hub of trade and commerce. At the same time, they were contesting their borders with the Goguryeo, who, themselves, had come under the control of Yeon Gaesomun, an infamous noble and anti-Tang hard-liner, who had staged a coup, murdered the Goguryeo king and any who stood against him, and who had installed a puppet king on the throne. It is little wonder that the Tang dynasty was courting Goguryeo's enemy, Silla, to pressure them from the other side. This eventually kicked off the Tang-Goguryeo war, with the loosely allied Tang and Silla fighting on and off with Goguryeo and their ally, Baekje, who was also invested in stifling Silla's ambitions on the peninsula. So that's where we are: The Korean peninsula is currently embroiled in conflict between the three kingdoms on the peninsula and the nearby superpower, the Tang Dynasty. Meanwhile, Yamato, on the archipelago, is going through a whole… thing. What that is, we'll try to get into over the next year. Given all of this, let's go over some of the themes from the past year. To start with, let's talk about expanding Yamato influence. From what we can tell, Yamato's influence in the archipelago had peaked around the 5th century, between the creation of giant Daisen Ryo kofun and the reign of Wakatake no Ohokimi, aka Yuryaku Tenno. Wakatake no Ohokimi had courtiers from as far away as Kyushu and the Kanto plain. However, from what I can tell, Yamato's influence appears to have temporarily waned, possibly coinciding with the end of Wakatake's own dynasty, with a new dynasty coming to power in the 6th century. It is possible that Wakatake was simply never quite as powerful as the Chronicles make out, but there are a few other things that make me think that the end of the 5th and early half of the 6th century were a low point in Yamato's power. For one thing, we see a drop off in interactions with the continent after 479—or at least anything beyond the tip of the Korean peninsula. In addition, we see smaller rooms built in the region of the Nara Basin and the Kawachi plain, while more “royal” tombs continue to appear elsewhere in the archipelago. It isn't that they stopped, but the size decreased, suggesting that Yamato didn't have the same labor pool it used to. On top of that, we have the dynastic change. We are told that the line related to Wakatake died out and they had to bring in someone from Afumi and Koshi, who traced their lineage back to the legendary Homuda-wake, aka Ōjin tennō, some five generations back. Many scholars suggest that this connection was a later merging of the lineages, suggesting that, in reality, an entirely new branch of sovereigns had come to power. Finally, we can see the Chronicles focusing more and more on the areas near to Yamato, the area known as the Home Provinces, possibly because Yamato only held direct control over these areas, while control beyond that was only nominal. Local elites in those regions had a lot of autonomy, and if Yamato did not have anything in particular to offer them, they would not have a reason to necessarily go along with Yamato's requests. This may have even been part of the impetus for the so-called “rebellion” by Iwai, in Kyushu. As you may recall, in the early 6th century Iwai attempted to ally with Silla against Yamato and Baekje, with the idea of cutting off Yamato's access to the continent. This ultimately failed, and Yamato ended up creating what would become the Dazaifu near modern Fukuoka, but the fact that Iwai could contemplate it and gather such support would suggest that Yamato was at least perceived as vulnerable. Now up to this point, we see several different policies that were used for increasing the court's control. Early on, this was done by doling out various elite goods. We also see Yamato soft power in the form of spiritual authority and the expansion of local Yamato cultic practices out into the other lands of the archipelago. There was also the tradition of monumental tombs, and especially the royal keyhole style tombs, which spread out from Yamato and was likely as much an indication that those regions saw Yamato practices as worthy of emulation, at the least, and perhaps saw Yamato as a cultural nexus on the archipelago. To all of this, they eventually added the “Be” system. This appears to have been copied from systems being used on the Korean peninsula, and it focused on creating familial units to organize various industries, with family heads responsible for reporting and funneling necessary goods up to the court. This eventually included the noble “uji” clans, with their power bases in various geographic regions. Yamato extended its influence through a variety of methods, including various public works projects. These included things like the building of ponds, or reservoirs, which would have been critical to the wet-rice paddy agriculture that was the economic backbone of the Yamato government. Another means of extending government control was the “miyake”, or Royal Granaries. Originally we see these set up in the Nara basin, but during the current dynasty they had been extended all the way out to Kyushu. Ostensibly, they were there to collect rice for taxes, but they appear to have acted as government offices, providing a presence for Yamato even out in the hinterlands. Eventually they would turn the area in Kyushu, the Dazai, into its own, semi-autonomous extension of the Yamato government, as well. In the past year of the podcast, we've seen many of those older forms of government control replaced with a new bureaucratic system. This included an upgrade to the rank system, which was a way for the government to both organize the bureaucracy while also creating a means to award individuals. Early rank systems had initially been granted at the family level, but following a continental model meant that the new system was based solely on the individual. Thus they could hand out rank to various kings and chieftains across the archipelago and entice them into the Yamato orbit, a trick they had been doing previously as well with various types of recognition. Those that took the titles and rank that Yamato handed out gained a certain amount of legitimacy, locally, but since that legitimacy was tied to the Yamato court, it also helped solidify Yamato's own influence on those areas. That doesn't mean that all expansion was peaceful. Yamato contested on their eastern and northern border with the people referred to as the Emishi, which eventually included contests as far north as the island of Hokkaido with the Mishihase people. There was another form of soft power used by the court in the way that it supported Buddhism, which was still a new religion at this point, having arrived in the early part of the 6th century. Patronage of Buddhism would lead to the building of temples and otherwise claiming some authority in the spiritual realm, beyond simply the court's control of the Mt. Miwa site. Furthermore, the state itself took particular interest in Buddhist institutions, and cracked down heavily on the clergy, ensuring that they reported up to the court, formally solidifying the connection between temples and the State. But then they went a bit further and instituted actual governors. They were appointed by the Yamato government, and they were particularly installed in the Eastern lands—referred to as provinces. These governors reported to the court, and appear to have initially been separate from locally recognized elites, who were known as the Kuni no Miyatsuko. The governors were to take stock of the areas under their authority and report up information such as a summary of the lands and local census information. This meant that Yamato did not need to rely on local elites to administer an area, they would have greater insight into what was actually going on. This was all combined with the institution of new laws on taxes, corvee labor, and more, while eliminating traditional practices such as the Miyake and even royal tomb-building. The latter was likely affected by the various public works projects, but also the fact that more work was going into the building of things like Buddhist temples. As we noted back in the previous year, Buddhist temple building appears to have had a hand in the end of the prolific kofun building, at least in Yamato proper. Kofun were memorials—meant to carry on the memory of an individuals well after their death. They were ritual sites, and families were set up to care for them. Temples, likewise, were erected with certain memorial qualities. Donating to build a temple was thought to increase one's karma, and thus do wonders for your next life. Temple patrons would be remembered, and services were carried out, but temples also had a certain public aspect to them, as well. On top of that, they were new, and no doubt exotic, with their tiled rooves, intricate carvings, and colorful buildings. Much of the labor that would have built tombs appears to have been co-opted, instead, to build temples. Some of the temples founded in this period include Asuka dera, aka Hokoji, built on or near the Soga family compound, as well as other Asuka temples, such as Yamadadera, Kawaradera, Toyouradera, and Kudaradera. There was also Houryuji, erected by Prince Umayado near his house, and the ancient temple of Shitennouji, erected in Naniwa. Of these, both Horyuji and Shitennoji continue, today, at or near their original with some of the oldest extant buildings in Japan. Asukadera was moved to its modern site of Gangoji, in Nara city proper, but there is still a smaller Asukadera on the original site, with what may be one of the original images, though the buildings have been rebuilt after numerous fires and disasters over the years. Of course, a big part of all of these foreign ideas, such as Buddhism but also Confucian thought as well, was the growing influence of the continent, whether in the form of Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, or beyond. While there had been influence ever since the Yayoi period—and arguably even during the Jomon, in some instances—there seems to have been an acceleration once Yamato began to import Buddhism, which was likely connected with all of the learning and texts that were also being imported around that time. Then, during the Sui and Tang dynasties—both of which the Chronicles simply label as the “Great Tang”—the court sent several embassies to the Sui and Tang emperors, bringing back individuals with actual experience in the way things were happening outside of the archipelago. And we should not discount the various embassies to and from the Korean peninsula. Yamato was increasing its involvement in peninsular affairs. They continued to be concerned with the state of Nimna, also known as Imna or Mimana, which had been assimilated by Silla, along with the rest of Gaya, or Kara, by the early to mid-6th century, with many accounts dealing with attempts to reinstate Nimna as a separate and sovereign entity. Along with this, Yamato continued their relationship with Baekje, who sent Prince Pung to reside at the Yamato court. This continued a long-standing tradition that is portrayed as a type of diplomatic hostage, though there have been several times that princes at the Yamato court came back to Baekje to rule after the king died or was killed. All of this to say that not only did ambassadors from Yamato go to these countries, but ambassadors also traveled to Yamato, while various immigrants from these areas of Baekje, Silla, and even Goguryeo occasionally settled in Yamato. This further increased the number of individuals with knowledge and experience of continental concepts and technology, and we can see their influence in numerous different ways. This was all part of what led to the Yamato government's adoption of Tang style law codes, though it should be noted that the law codes were not taken wholecloth. Rather, they were adapted specifically to the issues of the archipelago. This was the beginning of what came to be known as the Ritsuryo system, literally the system of laws and punishments. Under this system, the government went from a single Oho-omi, or great minister, to two Great ministers, one of the left and one of the right. These would come to be known as the Sadaijin and the Udaijin. Nakatomi no Kamatari was afforded a special place as the third minister, the minister of the center, or Naidaijin, possibly referring to his responsibilities with the interior of the royal household, while the ministers of the left and right would have had particular ministries beneath them - eight ministries in total, with various departments underneath them. They would be assigned to report either to the Minister of the Left or the Minister of the Right, each one overseeing, effectively, half of the government portfolio. This system, combined with the governors and the Tomo no Miyatsuko in the provinces, meant that Yamato had much more granular control over the workers and the means of production. They organized households into villages, and villages into districts. There were lower level officials who reported up the chain all the way to the great ministers, the Daijin, or Oho-omi. This meant that they effectively abolished the Be and Uji system, at least as it had been set up. These familial groups continued to operate as families, or perhaps more appropriately as “clans”, given how the groups had come to be. These officials were granted rank and, more importantly, stipends from the government. A portion of taxes, which were paid in rice, went to various officials. This meant that officials not only relied on the government for their status, but for their incomes as well. This went along with an attempt to implement something known as the “equal field system”, imported, again, from the continent. This determined who would work what fields, and was another way that the government was involved down to the actual labor producing the rice that was the economic engine of the State. And that covers most of what we've been up to this past year. There have been individual accomplishments that we didn't get into, but there is plenty there if you want to listen to it. So that covers the past year in the podcast—a little over half of the 7th century. It really was a time of dramatic change—whether or not “Taika” was the name given to part of it, it certainly feels appropriate. Even though the court eventually moved to Naniwa, this is the height of the Asuka period, and the start of the Ritsuryo state. It would form the foundations for what was to come, and themes from this period will continue to show up again and again. In this next year, we are going to continue to look at Takara Hime's reign and beyond. We'll see the resolution of the Tang-Goguryeo war, and the impact of all the continental fighting on the archipelago. We'll also see continued developments within the archipelago itself, hopefully getting through to the end of the 7th century. We are actually reaching the end of the material in the Nihon Shoki. This does not mean that we are running out of material, though. The Chronicles end in 697—less than 40 years out from our current place in the Chronicles. From there, we have the Shoku Nihongi, which covers 95 years, until 797 CE. Translation of much of the Shoku Nihongi is available through the work of Dr. Ross Bender, and you can find his work online if you want to get a leg up on the reading, though that is a ways out. For now, we can still comfortably continue with the Nihon Shoki, at least through the reign of Temmu Tennou. Until then, Happy New Year! As usual, thank you for listening and for all of your support. Thanks also to my lovely wife, Ellen, for her continued work at helping to edit these episodes! Remember, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
In order to help bring Nazis to justice, U.S. government agent T.R. Devlin recruits Alicia Huberman, the American daughter of a convicted German war criminal, as a spy. Despite their love for each other, Alicia is instructed to win the affections of Alexander Sebastian in Brazil.To download, right-click here and then click SaveJoin the Journey Into Patreon to get early Outfield Excursions episodes.Episode Art courtesy of Gino Moretto.To comment on this or any episode:Send comments and/or recordings to journeyintopodcat@gmail.comPost a comment on Facebook or on X
This week Jen introduces Amy and the For the Love audience to her long-time friend, comedian Heather Land, who gained fame as a social media sensation through her viral I Ain't Doin' It videos. They discuss Heather's journey from an early career in ministry to one in comedy, and now to her newest passion project, life coaching. Heather talks to Jen and Amy about the impact of burnout and the challenges of reinventing oneself, especially at different life stages and finding joy in her new creative project, the Dear Heathers podcast (that she co-hosts with best-friend Heather Lenard) encouraging other women to embrace their journeys and feel empowered. In this episode: Jen and Amy share their mixed feelings on receiving unsolicited advice. Inspired by the Dear Heathers podcast, Amy and Jen reminisce about what it was like using landline phones when they were teens. Shocker: Jen even remembers her old phone number! The group talks about the importance of recognizing signs of burnout and how reinventing oneself is a vital part of personal growth Heather shares how support from friends can play a crucial role in our journey, like when her friend advised her to ‘do it [comedy] afraid'. Jen, Amy, and Heather talk about women looking to others with relatable stories when they go through difficult experiences and how community can be our greatest lifeline. *** Thought-provoking Quotes: “What do I have to lose except my dignity?” – Heather Land “Standup is maybe the hardest form of comedy. It's not scripted. You don't have directors and writers. It is a hot seat and it's live. It's sink or swim. You picked the hardest way to be funny.” – Jen Hatmaker “You are in full integrity when you make a change when something is still working. That is a move that is in full alignment which is something to be proud of.” – Jen Hatmaker “We ask kids ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?” and I don't think we leave a lot of room for ‘What do I want to be next?' or ‘what do I want to be when I'm 40, or 50, or 60?'.” – Heather Land “I'm sorry, I have not hired you as my life coach.” – Amy Hardin Resources Mentioned in This Episode: Heather's I Ain't Doin' It Playlist - https://youtu.be/slcwYADYwRc?si=Oe-m-0jf3-wDdVmH Dear Heathers Podcast - https://www.heatherlandofficial.com/podcast Heather Lenard - https://www.heatherlenard.com/ Life Coaching with Heather Land - https://www.heatherlandofficial.com/life-coach#book-an-appointment Nichole Nordeman - https://www.instagram.com/nicholenordeman/ Susannah Lewis (Whoa Susannah) - https://whoasusannah.com/ Jen Hatmaker Book Club Cruise January 30-February 3, 2025 - https://shop.jenhatmaker.com/pages/cruise Only Murders in the Building - https://www.hulu.com/series/only-murders-in-the-building Should men take baths? - Dear Heathers: Ep. 3 Bath Time with the Swon Brothers - https://apple.co/4eI6s9b Guest's Links: Heathers's website - https://www.heatherlandofficial.com/ Heather's Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/heatherland_iaintdoinit Heather's Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/iaintdoinit/ Heather's YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCs4omp2klYLTOqqY56j-8Ag Dear Heathers Podcast - https://www.heatherlandofficial.com/podcast Connect with Jen! Jen's website - https://jenhatmaker.com/ Jen's Instagram - https://instagram.com/jenhatmaker Jen's Twitter - https://twitter.com/jenHatmaker/ Jen's Facebook - https://facebook.com/jenhatmaker Jen's YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/user/JenHatmaker The SupportBeltTM is designed and validated for Ford and Lincoln vehicle specifications and is intended only for use in those vehicles; Ford is making the design available via license for other automakers to manufacture and test in their vehicles. For shoulder belt use only. Do not use on lap portion of belt. Not for use by children or with child seats or booster seats. For use by mastectomy patients. The For the Love Podcast is presented by Audacy. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices
This is the second of two episodes talking about the people in the north of the Japanese archipelago: The Emishi and the Mishihase. Last episode we covered things from an archaeological overview, looking at the traces of the Epi-Jomon, Satsumon, and Okhotsk Sea cultures. This episode focuses more on what was actually written in the Nihon Shoki, including a journey to introduce Emishi to the Tang Emperor himself! For more information, check out our podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-117 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 117: The People of the North, Part 2 Abe no Hirafu gazed out at the sea, waiting for his opponents to appear. He had traveled with a fleet to the far north, into a land that was unlike anything that most of his men had ever seen. They were far away from the rice fields of their home villages. Up here, the people made their way by hunting and fishing, and the land was much more wild. Besides the people, the land was also home to giant bears, much larger than anything back in the Home Provinces. Giant beasts with paws the size of a man's head. They were truly incredible, but they were not his target this time. As he watched the waves, he saw his prey emerge. They rowed their ships around the cape, coming out from the defensive position they had previously established. Where Hirafu's men flew banners made of silk, his opponents had created flags made of feathers, which they hoisted high in their boats. They were small in number, but they knew this land and these waters. They were comfortable traveling in the cold and unforgiving seas, and they no doubt had reinforcements. Hirafu may have had the upper hand, but he knew he couldn't get too cocky. It was probably too much to hope for that the size of his fleet alone would cause them to submit. If they could be bought off, then perhaps that was best, but Hirafu knew that was probably unlikely. This was going to be a fight, and Hirafu and his men were ready for it. Before we jump into the episode proper, a quick thank you to Hakucho for donating to support Sengoku Daimyo. We always appreciate any support, and there is information at the end of each episode on how to help out if you would like to join them. Last episode we introduced the Emishi and the Mishihase and talked about them and their connections to the Yamato and Japanese state, as well as to the modern Ainu people. We went over a lot of the archaeological findings, and talked about how the Jomon period, uninterrupted in northern Honshu and Hokkaido, eventually gave way to the Epi-Jomon and Satsumon cultures, while the Ohokotsk Sea Culture is observed from around the 5th to 9th centuries, and we talked about how these existed in the lands we know as being connected to the Emishi and the Mishihase people mentioned in the Chronicles. This episode we are going to rely a lot more on the narrative found in the Nihon Shoki, but I wanted to make sure that we had that discussion about the archaeology, first, so that people would have a background. If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend going back and giving Part 1 a listen. So let's back up a bit, and let's set the scene on the peninsula and the archipelago, and see what led up to this moment. In 654, the sovereign of Yamato, Karu, aka Kotoku Tennou, had passed away in his palace in Naniwa. His sister, Takara Hime, and other members of the royal family had gathered once more in Naniwa when they caught word of his illness, but their visit was brief. Karu passed away on the 1st day of the 10th month, and a little over two months later he was buried. After that, rather than taking up residence again in Naniwa, the court moved back to the old capital of Asuka, where Takara Hime re-ascended the throne. It was now the year 655, almost a decade since Crown Prince Naka no Oe had orchestrated the murderous coup that had seen the powerful scions of the Soga family cut down in front of Takara Hime and others, causing her to abdicate. And now, well, perhaps Naka no Oe was comfortable controlling things from behind the scenes, because Takara Hime was once again the one in power—or at least the one sitting on the throne. And there's a LOT that would go on during this reign according to the chronicles. On the peninsula at this point, the Tang-Goguryeo war was in full swing, with the Tang dynasty regularly harassing Goguryeo. Goguryeo was at least nominally allied with Baekje, whose ruling family also claimed descent from a shared Buyeo ancestor, and Baekje was, of course, a long time ally of Yamato. Meanwhile, Silla had thrown their lot in with the Tang dynasty, though as alliances went it was not exactly an alliance of equals – and most alliances came and went as the political winds changed throughout the peninsula. Over time, we'll see some resolution coming to the situation on the peninsula. But overall, one of the biggest trends is that during Takara Hime's second reign, Yamato was reaching out to a much wider world than it had in the past. This included connections to the south—to those on the Ryukyu islands, and possibly beyond. And there were continued efforts to reach out to the Tang empire, with varying degrees of success. Those that did go would sit and learn at the feet of some of the most famous scholars in the world, including the Buddhist priest, scholar, and traveler, Xuanzang, someone I cannot wait to get into in a future episode, as he really demonstrates just how connected the world had become at this time in a way that is often hard for us to comprehend, today. But there is also plenty happening in the archipelago, and even just in Asuka. In fact, regardless of what the Chronicles say, there are a lot of ancient monuments and archaeological finds in the Asuka region that aren't directly mentioned in any historical record, but can be generally traced to this era - reminders of this period that are literally carved in stone. We still have plenty of questions as to just what was going on, but we're starting to see more and more lasting physical traces. Our first relevant entry in the Nihon Shoki for the topic of this episode comes from the 7th month of 655, the year that Takara Hime had taken the throne. We are told that 99 Northern Emishi and 99 Eastern Emishi were entertained at the court of Naniwa—presumably using the government facilities built during Karu's time. At the same time, there were 150 envoys from Baekje who were likewise feted. Caps of honor, of two grades in each case, were bestowed on nine Emishi of Kikafu and six Emishi of Tsugaru. This is an interesting record, and let's explore what it means for Yamato's view of itself and its own authority. First, the Baekje and the Emishi are being streated similarly—they both appear to be groups that are from *outside* Yamato conducting some kind of diplomacy with the court. That said, it is quite clear from the way that the Chronicles deal with them that Yamato viewed each group as distinctly different. Baekje was Yamato's continental ally, and their primary means through which they could access the continent and all that it had to offer. They had helped bring Buddhism to the archipelago, and were clearly seen as a civilized country. The Emishi, on the other hand, were Yamato's own “barbarians”. They were outside and Yamato clearly saw them as less civilized. In many ways Yamato viewed the Emishi similar to how the Tang court likely viewed Yamato. After all, just as Tang literature talked about the differences between the quote-unquote “civilized” center of the empire and the so-called “barbaric” lands beyond their borders, Yamato could place itself in a similar position, simply by placing the Nara Basin at the “Center” and with the Emishi helping define that which was outside. So in an odd way, this may have been uplifting for Yamato's own self-image. And just as the Tang court enticed border states into their sphere of influence with the promise of imperial titles, the Yamato court similarly was bestowing rank upon the Emishi, making themselves the granter of prestige and recognition. By being a part of the system, you were rewarded with recognition of your status, something that likely appealed to many. As to the places referenced – Kikafu and Tsugaru – Aston isn't certain about Kikafu, but Tsugaru seems quite obvious as the northernmost tip of Honshu, in modern Aomori prefecture, where the islands of Honshu and Hokkaido are separated by none other than the Tsugaru strait. The fact that the Chroniclers differentiated between the Eastern and Northern Emishi likewise suggests that this was not a monolithic state. Yamato saw a difference between the Emishi in one part of the archipelago versus the other. Three years later, in the 4th month of 658, Yamato sent one of the largest expeditions against the northeast. Abe no Omi—other entries name him as Abe no Omi no Hirafu—took 180 ships up north on an expedition to the Emishi. We are told that he met with the Emishi in the districts of Aita and Nushiro, believed to be in modern Akita prefecture. Akita prefecture is on the western side of Tohoku, towards the very northern tip. It is opposite Iwate prefecture on the east, and just below Aomori prefecture, which, at the time, was known as Tsugaru. This was on the extreme end of Honshu. Both Aita and Nushiro quickly submitted to the Yamato mission. Still, Abe drew up his ships in order of battle in the bay of Aita, where an envoy from the Emishi named Omuka came forward and made an oath. He swore that they had no ill-intentions. The fact that the Emishi were armed with bows and arrows was not because they were at war, but because up in that area of Tohoku, they were all hunters, and so it was their regular tool. They swore to the gods of Aita bay that they had not raised arms against Yamato, but they were willing to submit to Yamato rule. For his part, Omuka was granted court rank, and local governors were established at Nushiro and Tsugaru—likely meaning they recognized local chieftains and made them responsible for representing the others. Finally, they summoned the Emishi of Watari no Shima to the shores of Arima, and a great feast was provided. After that, they all returned home. The term “Watari no Shima” seems to almost undoubtedly refer to the island of Hokkaido. “Watari” means to cross, so referring to the “Emishi of Watari no Shima” likely referred to the Emishi on Hokkaido vice those in the Tohoku region. The entire entry seems a bit suspect. Abe no Hirafu takes an armed party up north and then they all… just sit down and have tea together? There seems to be a lot of missing context. Of course, from Yamato's perspective, they were the civilized center. Does that mean that any violence they committed was simply swept under the rug of history? Or did they truly meet with such quick submission that only a show of force was necessary? There is one other entry for 658, relative to all of this. It isn't given a specific date, so it is unclear when, exactly it occurred, but it may shed some light. That entry states that Abe no Hikida no Omi no Hirafu, warden of the land of Koshi, went on an expedition not against the Emishi, but against the Mishihase, or Su-shen. He is said to have brought back from this trip two live “white bears”, or “shiguma”. So was his expedition really against the Emishi, or was his actual goal to fight the Mishihase, which means he didn't just stop at the end of Honshu, but he continued on to Hokkaido—Watari no Shima—and up at least to Central Hokkaido, where he would have met with the people of the Okhotsk Sea culture—likely the Mishihase of the Chronicle? Or was he sailing against both? This also leads to numerous other theories as to just what was going on. While Yamato was pushing on the Emishi from the south, were these Mishihase likewise encroaching on the Emishi in the north? Were they pushing them south or absorbing those in the farthest north? There seems to have clearly been a difference and some conflict between them, as evidenced by later entries, which we'll cover in a bit. Quickly, though, I do want to touch on the idea that they brought back two “white bears”. “Shiguma” appears to refer to a “white bear”, and at its most simplistic understanding, this would seem to refer to a polar bear, but that seems quite a stretch. Today, polar bears largely live in the arctic regions, out on the permanent sea ice, where they are able to hunt. They are considered an aquatic animal, living mainly in the ocean, though they will come ashore to hunt, on occasion. Still, they are mostly adapted to life on the sea ice. While the climate of the 700s was different, I don't know that the sea ice extended that far south. It is possible that polar bears had been captured much further north, and then sold to people further south, through the extensive trade networks that ran up through Kamchatka, Siberia, and even across the Aleutian chain, but as far as I can tell, polar bears would not have been living in Hokkaido or even in the Kuril or Sakhalin islands at that time. It is much more likely that the “Shiguma” was one of the Hokkaido brown bears. They may have been albino, but more likely it was simply an easy designation to distinguish them from the bears of the rest of the archipelago—the Asian black bear. These are clearly black bears, though their fur can appear lighter in some instances. Meanwhile, although brown bears can be a very dark brown, their fur can vary to almost a blond, and if you look at many photos you can see how they might be considered “white”, especially compared to the black bear that was the norm in Yamato. I suspect that this is actually the species that Hirafu brought back, and which would be referenced in later entries, where “shiguma” furs appear to be have been quite plentiful, suggesting it wasn't just a rare mutation. In addition, I can't help but note that the presence of bears, here, seems to also further connect with modern traditions of the Ainu of Hokkaido. Most notably in their reverence for bears, including the traditional Iyomante ceremony. There is also evidence of the importance of bears in what we see of the Okhotsk Sea Culture. It is hard to tell if there is more from this interaction, but it still raises some questions. But I digress. While there are still a lot of gaps, we can see that the Emishi were being brought into the fold, as it were, while the Mishihase were apparently the threat that Yamato would be fighting. In fact, I can't help but wonder if the threat posed by the Mishihase didn't help encourage the Emishi to ally themselves with Yamato in an attempt to protect themselves. Whatever happened, the relationship with the Emishi, from that point, seems to place them as subjects of Yamato. We are told that three months later, over 200 Emishi visited the Yamato court, bringing presents for the sovereign. These were not just the Emishi of the far reaches of Tohoku, but seems to have included Emishi from several different regions. We are also told that the entertainment and largess provided by the court was even greater than any time before, no doubt presenting the carrot in contrast to Abe no Hirafu's stick. One of the carrots handed out was court rank, We are told that two Emishi of the enigmatic Kikafu region each received one grade of rank while Saniguma, the Senior governor of Nushiro, was granted two steps in rank, making him Lower Shou-otsu in the rank system of the time, and he was given the superintendence of the population register—likely meaning he had a charge similar to the other governors dispatched to take a census and let the court know just how many people there were in the region. His junior governor, Ubasa, received the rank of Kembu, the lowest rank in the system. Meanwhile, Mamu, the Senior governor of Tsugaru was granted the rank of Upper Dai-otsu and Awohiru, the Junior governor of Tsugaru, was granted the rank of Lower Shou-out. At the same time, two ranks were granted on the Miyatsuko of the Tsukisara Barrier and one rank was granted to Inadzumi Ohotomo no Kimi, Miyatsuko of the Nutari Barrier. These last two appear to have been members of Yamato rather than Emishi, but clearly all related to the issue of the borders and beyond. And so we are given three different locations. We are not told the names of the Emishi from Kikafu, but we are given the names of the senior and junior governors—likely local chieftains co-opted into the Yamato polity—of Nushiro and Tsugaru. Together with the name “Omuka” we have some of our earliest attestations to possible Emishi names—though whether these were names, titles, or something else I could not say. We have Saniguma, Ubasa, Mamu, and Awohiru. None of these are given with family names, which seems to track with the fact that formal “family” names appear to have been an innovation of the Kofun culture, rather than an indigenous phenomenon. I would also note that I am not sure if these ranks came with any kind of stipend: after all, much of that region wasn't exactly suited to rice-land, so where would the stipend come from? That said, there were certainly more practical gifts that were laid out for them as well. The governors of Nushiro and the governors of Tsugaru were each given 20 cuttle-fish flags—likely a banner similar to the koi nobori, or carp banners, in use today—as well as two drums, two sets of bows and arrows, and two suits of armor. This seems to be one for the Senior and one for the Junior governor. In addition, Saniguma was commanded to “investigate” the Emishi population as well as what Aston translates as the “captive” population—by which I suspect they mean those living in bondage within the Emishi communities. It is interesting to me that even though the senior governor of Tsugaru was given a higher rank, this last duty was only given to the governor of Nushiro. And there you have it. With all of that the Emishi were at least nominally subject to the Yamato court. They were still, however, cultural outsiders. It is quite likely that they spoke a different language, and given the number of placenames in Tohoku that seem to correspond with the modern Ainu language, it is quite likely that a language at least related to modern Ainu was spoken in the Emishi controlled areas. A similar pattern to the year 658 took place in the entries for the following year. Once again, Abe no Hirafu went north with 180 ships on what we are told, at least in Aston's translation, was an expedition against the Emishi. He assembled a selection of the Emishi of Akita and Nushiro, totaling 241 people, with 31 of their captives, as well as 112 Emishi of Tsugaru with 4 of their captives, and 20 Emishi of Ifurisahe. Once he had them all at his mercy he then… feasted them and gave them presents. Is this really what an expedition *against* the Emishi looked like? It almost sounds more like a diplomatic mission. We are told that after feasting and giving the assembled Emishi presents, Abe no Hirafu made an offering to the local gods of a boat and silk of various colors. He then proceeded to a place called “Shishiriko”, where two Emishi from a place called Tohiu, named Ikashima and Uhona, came forward and told him that Yamato should create an outpost at Shiribeshi, on the west coast of Hokkaido, which would be the seat of local Yamato government. This sounds not entirely dissimilar from the idea of the Dazai in Kyushu. Abe no Hirafu agreed and established a district governor there. Relevant to this, between the 7th and 8th centuries, we see clusters of pit dwellings in Hokkaido largely in the areas corresponding to the modern sub-prefectures of Sorachi, Ishikari, and Iburi, with many of them clustered near modern Sapporo, and a very small number near Rumoi, further north along the western coast. Once more it is another account, not the main narrative of the Nihon Shoki, where we might see what was really going on. That entry claims that Abe no Hirafu went north to fight with the Mishihase and, on his return, he brought back some 49 captives. So was this what all of this was really about? Was he going up there to fight the Emishi, or was he perhaps fighting with the Emishi against the Mishihase? When Abe no Hirafu finally returned, it seems that the provincial governors of Michinoku—pretty much the whole of Touhoku—and Koshi, which was also a land known for being home to Emishi, were granted two grades of rank. Their subordinates, the district governors and administrators, each received one grade of rank. We are also told that on the 17th day of the 3rd month of 659, that a copy of Mt. Meru was constructed on the riverbank east of Amakashi no Oka and that Emishi of Michonoku and Koshi were both entertained there. Little more is given, and, again, it isn't clear if this is before or after Hirafu's expedition of that year. Mt. Meru—read as Shumisen, today—is the mountain at the center of the world, according to some Buddhist traditions. Building a copy would have been a statement, creating a copy of the mountain and bringing the center of the universe to you. This was probably a feature in a garden—at least that is how it was conceived of during the reign of Kashikiya Hime. This second one may have been made with a pile of stones, and there have even been found some features in Asuka that some think could be remnants of this ancient model of the universe, but they aren't without controversy. In any case, that same year that the Emishi were brought to Asuka to view this Buddhist monument, in 659, a mission was sent to the Tang court. We'll talk about the mission at some other time, but for now I want to focus on the fact that they brought with them an Emishi man and a woman to show the Tang emperor. Regrettably, we don't know their names, and we don't know their status in Emishi society. Were these captives, possibly enslaved? Or were these volunteers, who had gone willingly with the envoys to see the lands beyond their home. They likely had heard of the Tang empire from Yamato, and so it wouldn't be so surprising if they decided to go see it for themselves. Where it is of particular interest to us right now is that we have an apparent eyewitness account of the description given to the Tang Emperor about the Emishi by the Yamato envoys. Be aware that the envoys were not necessarily experts in Emishi culture, and may not have met any other than their travel companions, but the description, given by none other than Yuki no Hakatoko, who was apparently there, at the Tang court, when it happened, gives us invaluable insight into how Yamato viewed the Emishi. The entire thing is a bit of a question and answer session as the Tang Emperor, Tang Gaozong, inquired about the Emishi and who they were. In response to his questions, the envoys assured him that Yamato and the Emishi were at peace with each other. They further noted that there were three different groups of Emishi. Those farthest from Yamato were the Tsugaru Emishi. Next, slightly closer to Yamato, were the Ara-Emishi. “Ara” in this case means “soft”, and was probably a reference to the fact that those Emishi closer to Yamato were seen as more compliant. Finally ,there are the “Nigi-Emishi”, living right on the borders. “Nigi” in this case seems to refer to them being the “Gentle” or even “Civilized” Emishi. I suspect that those living closest to Yamato were also the ones doing things like farming, and possibly building burial mounds. They may have even mixed with some of the border communities, and may have included Wa communities that were outside of Yamato's influence. After all, it isn't entirely obvious that “Emishi” referred to a single ethnic identity. In providing further answers to the emperor's questioning, we are told that the Emishi, at least according to the Yamato envoys, didn't farm, but instead they sustained themselves through hunting and fishing. Furthermore, we are told that they didn't live in houses, but instead they dwelt under trees and in the recesses of the mountains. This one is a little more questionable, after all, we have evidence of pit houses and villages all the way up to Aomori and back to Jomon times. However, it is quite possible that Yamato was often encountering hunting parties, which very likely may have been using makeshift shelters or utilizing natural features like caves when they were out traveling. Some of this, though, may have been built around ideas and concepts of how quote-unquote “barbaric” people lived, focusing on the exceptional, exotic, and sensationalist instances rather than on the more mundane day-to-day details. Finally, the emperor himself commented on the “unusual appearance” of the Emishi. We know that the Japanese terms for the Emishi refer to them as hairy barbarians, and if they were anything like modern Ainu, they were likely a good deal more hirsute than their Yamato neighbors. This was no doubt a stereotype, as, again, Emishi may have also included some members of the Wa in their numbers, but they also appear to have included groups of people that were quite physically distinct. Some DNA evidence also bears this out, and even today many people with deep ancestral ties to the Tohoku region demonstrate closer ties to ancient Jomon populations than to the succeeding Yayoi population that came over from the continent with their rice farming techniques. And so that gives us mostly what we know about the Emishi, except that they seem to have left out the Emishi of Watari no Shima—the Emishi of Hokkaido. They would have been beyond the Tsugaru Emishi, unless they were considered similar, and painted with the same brush. And speaking of Watari no Shima, we have one more entry before we bring things to a close, and that is from the third month of the year 660. Once more, Abe no Omi, who must have been getting his frequent sailor miles in by this point—or at least one hopes he had been invited to the Captain's circle at least. Anyway, Abe no Omi was sent on yet another expedition, this time with 200 ships, and this time quite specifically against the Mishihase. He made a stop in Michinoku on the way up where he brought some of the Emishi on his own boat—possibly as translators and guides. They then continued northern until they reached a large river—Aston suggests that it was possibly the Ishikari river, north of modern Sapporo. There they found a thousand Emishi of Watari no Shima encamped. Upon seeing the Yamato forces, two men came out from the camp to let Hirafu and his men know that the Mishihase had arrived in their own fleet, threatening to kill all of them. And so they asked permission to cross the river over to Hirafu and join him. Specifically we are told they asked to “serve the government” suggesting that they were willing to suborn themselves if Hirafu would assist with driving off the Mishihase. Hirafu had the two spokespersons come aboard his ship and then show him where the enemy was concealed. They showed him where, telling him that the Mishihase had some 20 ships. Hirafu sent for the Mishihase to come and face him, but they refused. And so instead he tried a different tactic. He piled up colored silk cloth, weapons, iron, etc., in sight of the Mishihase, hoping that their curiosity and greed would get the better of them. Sure enough, they drew up in their boats, which were decorated with feathers tied on poles like a flag. Their vessels were powered with oars, and they brought them to the shallows. From there, they sent two older men out to inspect the pile. The men came out, and when they saw what was there, they exchanged their clothes for some from the pile and took some of the silk cloth and then returned to their ship. After some time, they came back out, took off the exchanged garments and laid them down with the silk. With that, they then boarded their ship and departed. Aston suggests that this behavior mimics an aspect of something called an “unseen trade” which he claims had been common in the region of Hokkaido until recently. I hadn't found anything specifically about that, but it does make a kind of sense, especially if groups are possibly hostile and perhaps don't speak the same language. So does that mean that, for all of his military might, Hirafu was basically just buying off the Mishihase? In any case, it seems they did not take it. They left the garments and the silk, which seems to have indicated that they had no deal, and they departed. Hirafu pursued the Mishihase, and tried to get them to come out again—presumably looking for a stand up fight between his 200 ships and the MIshihase's 20, but instead the Mishihase headed to the island of Herobe, in another part of Watari no Shima. After a while of being holed up, the Mishihase did sue for peace, but by that point, Abe no Hirafu was having none of it. So they took themselves to their palisades and there they tried to hold out against Abe no Hirafu's forces. Noto no Omi no Mamukatsu was slain in the fighting, as we can only suspect that others were as well, but over time the Yamato forces began to wear them down. Finally, when it seemed there was no way they could win or escape, the MIshihase took the drastic step of killing their own women and children, perhaps fearing what the Yamato soldiers would do to them if they were caught. And with that, it was over. There are only a few mentions of the Mishihase, or even the Emishi, in the rest of the Nihon Shoki. Granted, as we will eventually see, the people of Yamato were no doubt pre-occupied with what was going on to the west, where the Baekje-Tang war would be soon coming to a close. Abe no Hirafu would be called on, once more, in that famous conflict, but we are going to save that for another day. For now, I think we can end things here. Or just about. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there is a theory that many of these expeditions were actually the same thing, but recorded slightly differently in different ways, with some confusion about the actual dates. Even if that was the case, it doesn't necessarily discount the overall information provided, and that information seems to at least somewhat conform to what we know about the archaeological record, as far as I can tell. Granted, this is still the story as told by outsiders. Since the people labeled “Emishi” didn't leave us with any records of this time, themselves, we don't exactly have their side of things, which is something we should keep in mind. This isn't the last time the Emishi will pop up in Japanese history. Even if they were being granted rank, the Emishi remained a group apart. Succeeding generations of Japanese would settle in the Tohoku region, eventually absorbing or pushing out the Emishi, or Ezo, while on Hokkaido, the people we know as the Ainu, who were likely an amalgamation of both Okhotsk Sea people and Epi-Jomon and Satsumon cultures, would eventually become dominant across the island of Hokkaido—at least until the 19th century. But that is for much later episodes. For now, we'll continue to stick with our small, but active corner of the 7th century. There is still a lot more to explore in this reign. Next episode will be our annual New Year's recap, and then we will continue on with more from this episode in the following year. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
Please hit Subscribe/Follow and leave a 5-star positive review. Click here to go to our Patreon Page. https://www.patreon.com/c/222ParanormalPodcast Click here to go to Jens Poashmark Closet. https://poshmark.com/closet/happie22 Click here to go to Our website. https://www.222paranormal.com/ In this episode of the 222 Paranormal Podcast, hosts Joe and Jennifer delve deep into the chilling and eerie history of the Black Forest of Colorado. Known for its dense woods and ominous atmosphere, the Black Forest has long been a site of unsettling occurrences and unexplained phenomena. The hosts take listeners on a journey through the forest's dark past, exploring stories of paranormal sightings, ghostly apparitions, and strange happenings that have baffled locals for decades. OE and Jennifer discuss numerous accounts of encounters with shadowy figures, unexplained voices, and the sense of being watched that many visitors have reported while hiking or camping in the area. As they investigate the forest's eerie reputation, they touch on the region's historical significance, including Native American legends and early settler tales that suggest the forest has been a hotspot for the supernatural for centuries. The hosts also explore the idea that the energy of the land might be connected to the area's tumultuous history, with conflicts between indigenous tribes and settlers leaving behind a lingering spiritual presence. Throughout the episode, OE and Jennifer engage with listeners by inviting them to consider the Black Forest's mysterious aura, while also encouraging them to share their own experiences with paranormal activity. They delve into the psychology behind why places like the Black Forest have such a magnetic pull on the curious and adventurous, drawing people in despite the unsettling stories that surround it. By the end of the episode, listeners are left with an eerie sense of wonder, pondering whether the Black Forest is truly haunted, or if its reputation is the product of a centuries-old mystery that refuses to be solved. The Legend of the flying dog, know as Aralez. The aralez are most prominently associated with the story of the legendary Armenian king Ara the Handsome. According to this legend, the Assyrian queen Semiramis (Shamiram) called on the aralez to lick the wounds of and revive Ara the Handsome after he was killed in battle. By popular interpretation, this was the origin of the word aralez, from the name "Ara" and lez, the root of the word lizel 'to lick'. According to the Armenian history attributed to Faustus of Byzantium, after Mushegh Mamikonian was killed, his relatives placed his corpse on a tower, hoping that the aralezes would revive him.This indicates that belief in the aralez was still current in fourth- and fifth-century Armenia, following the Christianization of the country. Welcome to the 222 Paranormal Podcast, your gateway to the captivating world of the supernatural. Immerse yourself in our expertly crafted episodes, where we delve deep into a wide range of paranormal phenomena, including ghostly hauntings, cryptid sightings, and unexplained mysteries that defy logic. Each episode is meticulously researched and features engaging discussions with leading experts, seasoned ghost hunters, and renowned paranormal investigators. We cover the latest advancements in ghost hunting technology, offer practical tips for both amateur and experienced investigators, and review essential equipment for your paranormal adventures. Our podcast also explores the rich history of haunted locations, sharing true stories and firsthand accounts that will send chills down your spine. Whether you're a die-hard fan of the paranormal or just curious about the unknown, our content is designed to entertain, inform, and ignite your imagination. Stay tuned as we uncover secrets from the most haunted places around the world and analyze the most intriguing supernatural events. We also provide in-depth interviews with notable figures in the field and explore theories that challenge conventional understanding of reality. By subscribing to our Paranormal Podcast, you'll stay updated with the latest episodes, allowing you to join a community of like-minded individuals who share your fascination with the unexplained. Don't miss out on our exclusive content and special features, which bring you closer to the mysteries that lie beyond our everyday experiences. Dive into the world of the unknown with our Paranormal Podcast and experience the thrill of discovering what lies just beyond the veil of reality.
The Type 00 from Jaguar has been revealed! The guys don't usually go in-depth about concept cars, but when was the last time a car company changed itself so dramatically? They debate sporty commuters for Tom in Dallas, a Jeep Scrambler owner who believes life is too short to drive something you don't love. Social media questions ask what struggling automaker would the guys want to save if they became CEO, what's the best OE-style interior upgrade, and should you share a dedicated fun car with a friend? Please rate + review us on iTunes, and subscribe to our two YouTube channels. Write us with your Car Debates, Car Conclusions, and Topic Tuesdays at everydaydrivertv@gmail.com or everydaydriver.com. Don't forget to share the podcast with your car enthusiast friends! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
The legendary, 500-hp Mercedes CLK63 AMG Black Series was never produced with a manual transmission. So, Derek had one built. === The Carmudgeon Show Sponsor, Vredestein Tires: https://www.vredestein.com/ Click here to join the Hagerty Driver's Club: https://bit.ly/Join-HDC-Cammisa-Rev === Derek Tam-Scott's company, OTS & Co., purchased a C209-chassis 2008 Mercedes CLK63 AMG Black Series for science/tax reasons and immediately sent it to Matt Kwiek of @kwiekclassics for a new Mercedes-sourced manual transmission swap. How does the legendary AMG M156 6.3-liter V-8 (which is actually 6.2 liters) work with a 6-speed manual? For science, Derek hired SCCA Hall of Fame race car driver Randy Pobst to set a lap time in both a stock, automatic CLK63 BS and a 6-speed swapped one. The Black Series is one of Jason Cammisa's favorite cars of all time. He attended its launch at Willow Springs raceway, where he struggled to keep up with an 80-year-old Denise McLuggage as she executed flawless and effortless laps in the exact same car. It's a fun story. The ‘mudgeons then briefly cover all the Black Series models: the R171 SLK55, C209 CLK63, R230 SL65, W204 C63, and SLS AMG. Is the CLK Black Series peak AMG? Derek compares the 6-speed swapped CLK to the fifth-gen Pontiac GTO and E39 BMW M5 Dinan S2. And the Carmudgeons discuss whether other collectible cars should also be manual-swapped, including the Lexus LFA, Alfa Romeo 4C and 8C, and the E60 M5. The boys also ponder if tearing out the OE tranny on the Black Series is a crime akin to that of the Sacrilege Motors 964 911 EV conversion. Which wasn't, actually, a crime. We end with a brief discussion of twin-engine cars: a half-Leaf half-motorcycle, a Twini (dual-engine Mini Cooper), DuRocco (twin-engine Scirocco), a pre-war Alfa, and a Citroen 2CV Safari. Plus, the van, Jynah, prepares for potentially slippery, wet and white conditions with a brand new set of Vredestein Wintrac Pros! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This is the first in a two part series on the people living to the Northeast of Yamato, in the areas of Tohoku and Hokkaido. They are called in the Chronicles, the Emishi and the Mishihase, and these designations appear to refer to areas that include the Epi-Jomon and later Satsumon cultures as well as members of the Okhotsk Sea Culture, all archaeological designations for various people whom we know primarily through their archaeological remains. We also discuss a bit about how all of this ties in (or doesn't) with the modern Ainu, and why we don't necessarily use that term until much later in the historical record. For more, check out our podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-116 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 116: The People of the North, Part 1 A soldier stood watch on the Nutari Barrier. It was only a few years old—built to define and defend the boundaries between the lands under Yamato rule and the untamed wilds, beyond. Looking behind him, the soldier could see the smoke from the nearby settlement, also newly constructed, which would supply him and his fellow guards with food and clothing while they took their turn at the border. Looking outwards, the soldier wondered what life beyond the barrier was like. He had seen people crossing through, mostly with various trade goods. For the most part, they didn't seem all that different, but he had heard stories: stories of wild men and women who lived in caves and slept under the trees. They were hunters who knew the woods and could easily slip through areas that didn't even have roads. As one traveled further north, things grew only more wild and untamed—or so the stories said. Giant bears with paws as large as a human head roamed the land—he'd seen a skin once and it was massive. The people of the north fought with them and, or so he'd heard, even kept them as pets. Further, well beyond the pale, there were people who lived on the sea. They traveled between islands in the frozen north, and hunted the beasts of the ocean. They were few, but they were mighty people. A chill went through the soldier's spine. He'd only ever heard stories of most of these outsiders, and even then it was hard to tell what was truth and what was merely exaggeration. He had never actually gone out to see it himself, though he'd met some who claimed they had. It gave him some sense of worth that he was out here, defending the settled, civilized lands of his people from the wild, ungoverned tribes beyond the border. That said, he hoped with all his heart that things remained peaceful. Yes, it would certainly be better that way for all involved. We are just starting out the second reign of Takara Hime, which started in the year 655. For her first reign, the Chroniclers would give her the title of Kougyoku Tennou, but when she retook the throne they named her Saimei. As we talked about in the last couple of episodes, there was a lot going on at this point, not just on the archipelago, but in the rest of Asia as well. We'll summarize that briefly just to set the stage for the beginning of Takara Hime's reign, but this episode we're going to primarily focus on the expansion of Yamato authority throughout the rest of the archipelago, or at least the rest of Honshu. In this context, we'll be talking extensively about the people that the Chronicles call the Emishi, since this section of the Chronicles contains numerous entries that give us our clearest look, to date, at who they were, at least from a Yamato perspective. We'll also be looking at another group in the north, known to us as the Mishihase, for whom we have even less information. As this whole episode got a bit long, we are going to be doing this in two parts. This episode, I'd like to introduce you to some of the terms, discuss some of the problems and considerations around these topics, and touch on what we know based largely on the archaeological record. In the second episode we'll focus on the narrative as it appears in the Nihon Shoki, which hopefully will be something that makes more sense once we have that archaeological context. While there are certainly some things that appear to coincide between the two narratives, there are a lot of differences. Archaeology can help us understand the material culture, and give us some insights into the lifeways of a particular group of people, but it doesn't let us know what they said, and rarely gives us information about a particular event. Before we dive into this, I think it would be useful to touch on terms that we are going to be using this episode, and next. I mention this because while we are dealing with the past, our story of the past is very much affecting the lives of people in the present. Most specifically, the lives of the Ainu people of Hokkaido, and how their history and experience intertwines with the concept of the “Emishi” that we see in the Chronicles. So let's explore these terms, and see where it takes us. First, I should probably make a note about the difference between “Wa” and “Yamato”, at least as I'm using it in this episode. When I use “Wa” I'll be referring to the ethnic group, while “Yamato” refers to the state. For the most part, as we are focused on the historical state forming in central Honshu, we'll talk about Yamato, or the State of Yamato. That is a political entity that is majority Wa in its make-up, but that doesn't mean that there weren't Wa people outside of the Yamato state, nor that Yamato was made up of only people who identified, ethnically as Wa. As we've seen, the Yamato state also included immigrants who identified as people of Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and even Emishi. Next, the Emishi. The term “Emishi” is an exonym used by Yamato to describe those who are outside of Yamato's borders and controls, especially up in Tohoku. By “exonym”, I mean that it's a term imposed from outside – in this case, by Yamato – on the group of people known as the Emishi, because we really don't know what they called themselves. Moreover, the term “Emishi” is complex, and doesn't necessarily describe a single, monolithic ethnic group or culture – more a group of possible ethnicities, that occupied a particular “slot” relative to Yamato cultural identity, namely that of outsiders. The Chronicles refer to several different geographic regions as “Emishi”, situated relative to the core of the Yamato polity -- but the archeological evidence is much more nuanced. A prime example are the studies carried out on the “Emishi” mummies of the Oshu Fujiwara, a 12th century ruling elite who lived in Hiraizumi and who were considered “Emishi” by the court in Heian-kyo—modern Kyoto. In studying the mummies, it was determined that they were closely related to the Wa people of Japan and the Kinki region. This finding is important and I'll come back to it in a bit, but the takeaway is that “Emishi” doesn't automatically mean physical or cultural differences like we might assume. There were likely ethnic Wa Emishi, along with Emishi who were more closely connected with the indigenous people—descendants of the Jomon and possible ancestors to the later Ainu people. Finally, the Ainu. It's extremely likely that some of the people that the Chroniclers called “Emishi” may have been the ancestors of the Ainu people of today. But the correspondence is definitely not one-to-one, as some historians used to think. And since this is a sensitive topic with ongoing patterns of inequity and silenced voices, it's important to lay some groundwork before going further. For my part, I would like to do my best to introduce the people and the history as we know it with as little bias as I can manage, but please realize that there are certainly controversies around this area and open wounds that have not yet healed. The modern Ainu are the indigenous inhabitants of Hokkaido, Sakhalin, and Kuril islands. They also once inhabited the very northern part of Tohoku. In their own language, Ainu Itak, these islands are part of Ainu Mosir, the Lands of the Ainu, and “Ainu” itself is simply a word for “humans” or “people”. While there are many cultural and linguistic ties to the Japanese—they have been neighbors for centuries—they are culturally distinct, and their language, Ainu Itak, is considered a linguistic isolate, with no known relatives outside of the Ainu homelands. The relationship between the Ainu and the Wa people—the general term for ethnic Japanese—has been one of tension and conflict born of colonization. In the 19th century in particular, the nation of Japan claimed Hokkaido and began to settle it. The wide open spaces were great for new industries, such as cattle ranching, which could supply dairy and beef, two things that had come into vogue with other aspects of Western culture. I won't get into the entire history of it, but the Japanese government used tactics similar to those used in the United States against indigenous populations, often forcing people to speak Japanese instead of their native language in a paternalistic attempt to quote-unquote “civilize” the Ainu people. Only relatively recently have the Ainu been accorded some protections in Japanese law. For our part, the study of Ainu history has long been one conducted by outsiders looking in, which of course has come with all sorts of baggage. For instance, as I alluded to above, there has long been a tendency to equate the Ainu with the Emishi, which along with everything else cast the Ainu as somewhat less culturally evolved. Much of this study was also taking place during a time when Marxist concepts of societal evolution were in vogue. Add to that the generally patronizing and Colonialist concepts that were rampant in Western anthropology at the time—things like the stereotype of the “noble savage” and even the concept of “primitive” societies—and there were definitely some problematic concepts that continue to echo through into modern discussions. Another complexity in understanding Ainu culture and history has been that the Ainu people do tend to be physically distinct from many other Japanese, which has been linked to outdated ideas about physical types and ethnicity. Many Ainu people show more tendency towards body and facial hair than mainland Japanese, with bushy beards being common among men, and blue eyes aren't uncommon – which, combined with overall light skin, led to early identification of Ainu people as being of “Caucasian stock” according to outdated racial classifications. The theory was that they traveled from the west across Asia in the distant past and somehow settled in the islands north of Japan. This ties into how much of the archaeological fervor of the 19th and 20th centuries in Japan was wrapped around ethno-nationalist ideals and looking to find the origins of the Japanese people, often using concepts of eugenics to seek out physical and cultural differences between the Japanese and “other” people, such as the Ainu, to help better define who are—and who are not—Japanese. For example, remember those Oshu Fujiwara mummies and how they were from a group described by the Chronicles as “Emishi” but ended up being more physically similar to modern Wa than modern Ainu? Some scholars took this finding to mean that all of the Emishi were Wa people, effectively denying any ancestral claims or links that Ainu people may have had to Honshu, other than those historically attested to from about the 15th century onwards. In similar ways, for each instance of some new “finding”, there have often been those who would use it as a further reason to discriminate against the Ainu. There is a lot of important archaeological work that has been done in Tohoku and elsewhere to help shed more light on the people living in areas that the Chronicles associate with the Emishi and beyond. But while archaeological digs in places like Honshu and Kyushu were often done with great public support, archaeological work in places like Hokkaido often involved investigating burials of potential ancestors without consent, and even today there is some contention over how various artifacts were acquired. As with too many places in the world, the data was not always gathered under what we may consider, today, the strictest of ethical standards. So as important as the archeological perspective is – at least we are going off of physical items that we find rather than on the narrative imposed on the region by those in Yamato – it's important to keep that context in mind. Even recent attempts to better contextualize Ainu history at places like the Upopoy National Museum in Shiraoi, while apparently doing their best to provide that context, are still hampered by the weight of previous missteps in the relationship between the Ainu and the government. Activists have noted that even Upopoy, the first such national museum devoted to the Ainu themselves, is still built on colonialist policies and artifacts and human remains acquired without all of the necessary consent and consultation with local Ainu. Upopoy, for its part, appears to have reached out to those willing to work with them, and for all that there may be some controversy, it certainly has a lot of information for those interested in it. So, given these caveats, what does the archeological record tell us about the wide range of people and areas called “Emishi” by the Chronicles, including both those areas closer to the Yamato heartland, and the areas we know today as Ainu Mosir? To understand the patterns of settlement and cultural trends that we see up north – in Tohoku and Hokkaido --let's go back to the end of the Jomon period and the very start of the Yayoi. As wet rice paddy cultivation (and accompanying pottery styles and other material goods) began to make its way into the archipelago, up through about the Kinki region—the original land of Yamato, or Yamateg—it was brought by a people that seem quite strongly connected to other people in east Asia, and these people largely replaced the indigenous Jomon era populations in western Japan. However, the new material culture traveled faster and farther than the new people themselves, and it appears that in eastern Honshu, at least, much of the new farming technology, pottery, and other lifeways of the Yayoi culture were adopted by people that appear to share a great deal in common, physically, with the previous Jomon populations, suggesting that local populations were, themselves, adopting the new technology and being absorbed into the Yayoi culture. This expansion of Yayoi culture and rice farming initially exploded all the way up to the very northern edge of Tohoku, but over time it started to decline in the northernmost regions. Whether due to a change in the climate or simply the fact that the colder, snowier regions in Tohoku were not as hospitable to farming, we see that rice cultivation fell into disuse, and people seem to have once again picked up the lifeways of their ancestors in the region, returning to a more hunter-gatherer style of subsistence. Indeed, in northern Tohoku and Hokkaido we see the continued evolution of Jomon culture in a phase that is generally known as the Epi-Jomon, or, in Japanese, the Zoku-Jomon period, which generally lasted through the end of the 7th century. This Epi-Jomon or Zoku-Jomon cultural region lay far outside the “official” Yamato borders according to the Chroniclers in an area considered to be part of “Michinoku” – literally past the end of the road – so it's understandably commonly associated with the Emishi. But once again, it's not that simple, because we do see Yayoi and Kofun culture extending up into this region. In fact, there are even keyhole shaped kofun up in Tohoku, the largest of these being Raijinyama kofun, thought to have been built between the late 4th and early 5th centuries. It sits south of modern Sendai, and there are numerous other tombs there as well, suggesting it was well connected to Yamato and the kofun culture of central Honshu. Another complication is that we have regions officially designated Emishi that were much closer in – on the borders of Yamato itself. Based on simply the written record, it would seem that “Emishi” resided as close to Yamato as the lands of Koshi and the land of Hitachi, at the very least. The Emishi in Koshi are mentioned several times in the Chronicles, and both the Nihon Shoki and works like the Hitachi Fudoki mention Emishi or people who are at least outside of the Yamato cultural sphere. This area bordering Yamato seems to have been the most affected by kofun and even Yamato culture, and also would have likely come into the most direct conflict with Yamato itself. It is also the area most likely to include those who, for one reason or another, decided to yet themselves outside the growing reach of the Yamato state, a pattern that would continue for centuries to come. On top of that, there is something else going on in northern Hokkaido, where, starting around the 5th century, we see different archeological assemblages from the south, indicating further cultural distinctiveness from the Tohoku and southern Hokkaido inhabitants. These are mostly found on the coast in the northern part of Hokkaido, and match closely with the culture we see first in the Sakhalin island, and later the Kurils, along the edges of the Okhotsk Sea. Hence the name we've given to this unknown culture: The Okhotsk Sea Culture, or just the Okhotsk culture. From what we can glean, the people of the Okhotsk culture subsisted largely off the hunting of marine mammals, such as seals, sea lions, sea cows, and whales. In contrast, the Epi-Jomon people appear to have subsisted more on inland hunting strategies, along with coastal fishing, which is represented in their settlement patterns, among other things. This latter description likewise tracks with descriptions of the Emishi as subsisting largely off of hunted game. It is unclear what exactly happened to the Okhotsk Sea Culture, but they appear to be one of the ancestral groups of the modern Nivkh people, on the northern part of Sakhalin and the lower Amur River and coastal regions, though the Okhotsk Sea Culture also seems to have had a large influence on the development of the people known today as the Ainu. Modern DNA testing of Ainu demonstrate connections both with the earlier Jomon people of Japan—a connection that is much stronger than in most Japanese—but also with people from the Okhotsk Sea region. Still, how and in what ways those people came together is not clear. The connection to the Jomon and Epi-Jomon people appears to be strengthened by the fact that throughout Tohoku there are placenames that appear to be more closely related to the Ainu language than to Japanese. For example, in Ainu itak, terms like “nai” and “pet” refer to rivers and streams, and we find a lot of placenames ending with “nai”, “be”, or “betsu”. These are often written with kanji that would be understandable to Japanese speakers, but the prevalence and location of these names often make people think that they are likely related to Ainu itak, in some way—possibly a proto-Ainuic language or dialect that is now lost. While I can't discount the fact that some this could be due to false etymologies, we can add to it the fact that the term “Emishi” was eventually changed to “Ezo”, which itself came to be used primarily for Hokkaido and the people there, including the people we know of today as the Ainu. However, it isn't clear that the term Emishi, or even “Ezo”, was consistently applied to only one group, and its usage may have changed over time, simply being used in each period to refer to the people of the Tohoku and Hokkaido regions outside of the control of the Japanese court. Another aspect of the archaeological record is the change in the Epi-Jomon culture to what we know as the Satsumon culture around the time of our narrative. Satsumon, like Jomon, is derived from the distinctive pottery styles found. “Jomon” means “cord-marked”, referring to the use of pressed cords and similar decoration on the pottery, and starting in the 7th century we see a new style using wood to scrape designs, instead. Thus the term “Satsumon”. It first pops up in Honshu, but by the 9th century it had spread to Hokkaido and eventually even spread to areas associated with the Okhotsk Sea Culture. It would last until roughly the 13th century, when it was replaced by a culture that is more clearly related to the modern Ainu people. But the Satsumon culture wasn't just new types of pottery. We see more ironwork appearing in the Satsumon culture, as well as the cultivation of millet and other types of agriculture. Tohoku and Hokkaido were still a bit cold for the ancient forms of wet rice agriculture that were prevalent in more southern regions, and millet and other crops likely fit more easily into the lifeways of the people in these areas. Likewise, by the 8th century, we also see a new type of stove appearing in Satsumon villages. This “kamado” seems clearly related to the type of stove that came over to Honshu from the Korean peninsula around the 5th century, reaching Hokkaido by the 8th, and eventually finding purchase on Sakhalin by the 11th, demonstrating a slow yet continuous adoption. Some of these changes might be explained by greater contact with Wa people and the trade networks that extended through Honshu and over to the mainland, but there were also trade routes through Sakhalin island over to the Amur River delta and beyond that should not be overlooked, even if they weren't as prevalent in the written histories of the time. I previously mentioned that in the next episode, we'll dive into more of what the Chronicles have to say about the Emishi, but to give a preview, the Chronicles have already mentioned the Emishi several times as trading and treating with the Yamato state. Back in the era before the Isshi Incident, Naka no Oe's coup in 645, Soga no Emishi himself had dealings with the Emishi of the land of Koshi, which we covered in episode 107. Then, in the previous reign, Emishi had attended court, but the court had also erected barriers and barrier towns in Nutari and Ihabune in 647 and 648 to protect the border areas from purported raids by the Emishi. Hence the episode opener, imagining what it might be like for a soldier at one of these barrier towns. But, there is also another people that we've already talked about, mentioned in the Chronicles: The Sushen people, also glossed as either the Mishihase or Ashihase people. In the Nihon Shoki, they first appeared in an entry in the reign of Kimmei Tennou, when a group of them came ashore on Sado island, which we discussed back in episode 86. In this period, however, the appear to be referencing a people who were living in the north of Hokkaido, and who were putting pressure on the people to their south, much as Yamato was putting pressure on the people to their northeast. The Sinitic characters, or kanji, used to name them in the Nihon Shoki uses a term from mainland writings for the Sushen people. This name is first given to people mentioned in early Warring States documents, such as the Classic of Mountains and Seas, as living on the Shandong peninsula. Eventually, however, as empires expanded, the term was used to refer to people along the Amur river region and the coast, in modern China and Russia—the eastern areas of what we know as “Manchuria”. These were probably not the same people originally referred to as living in Shandong, and instead seems to apply to the Yilou people, and likely also is cognate with the later term “Jurchen”. In the ancient Sinic documents, the Sushen are described as hunter-gatherers who live in the open, using caves and other such natural features for temporary shelter. They hunted with bows and arrows, which were tipped with stone arrowheads. To the settled cultures of the Yellow River basin, they were considered a primitive and barbaric people. As for the people mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, it is quite likely that the term “Sushen” was used differently. Rather than referring to Jurchen people, or someone from mainland northeast Asia, it is thought that the characters were used because of the similar role played by the people of northern Hokkaido and Sakhalin island—and possibly because of connection with the Amur river region, including the area referred to in older documents as “Su-shen”. Still, the people referred to in the Nihon Shoki were probably what we know as the Okhotsk Sea culture, especially based on what we know from later descriptions. From Yamato's point of view, they were likewise living in the extreme northeast and they were a hunter-gatherer society that used stone arrowheads in their hunting. The fact that it is glossed as either Mishihase or Ashihase by later commentators suggests that this was the name by which the Yamato knew these people, and the kanji were just borrowed for their meaning of a people in the northeast. And so in the 7th century we have both the Emishi and the Mishihase, at least in the northeast. There are also the Hayato, another group of people in the southern reaches of Tsukushi. We are told that they and the Emishi both attended the court in 655 in great numbers. Discussion of who the Hayato were is probably best left for another episode. Suffice it to say that they appear to be culturally distinct from the groups in the northeast, at least at this point. And that's where we are going to pause things for now. The archaeological record gives us some idea of the people inhabiting the areas of Tohoku and up to Hokkaido, but it only tells part of the story—and it is a story that we are continuing to uncover. Even today people are working on archaeological sites that just may turn up new information that will change how we see things. Next episode, we'll dive into the narrative of the Nihon Shoki and take a look at the actions of individuals—especially the actions of Abe no Hirafu, a key player in what was to happen in the north. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
PREVIEW: Colleague Brenda Shaffer of the Naval Postgraduate School, author of OPERATIONAL ENERGY, defines terms OE and IE and notes that Russia and China plan to target the US military's OE resources. More tonight. 1904 Japanese coal-fired fleet.
Today we are joined by Randy Fields, President of Filtration Solutions Worldwide, about OE filtration (especially on EGR trucks) and bypass oil filtration. A listener wanted to learn more about their kits and we went into detail about OE filtration, bypass filters, oil demands in a diesel engine, soot, and more! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices