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The fourth and final episode in our series on the Jinshin no Ran: we cover the campaign in Afumi (aka Ōmi - 近江).  Prince Ōama and Prince Ōtomo (aka Kōbun Tennō), have drawn up their forces.  Last episode we covered the fighting in the Nara Basin, around the ancient Yamato capital: Asuka.  This episode focuses on the defense of the Karafu and Fuwa passes and the eventual march to the bridge at Setagawa. This is a name heavy episode, and we'll be noting some of it here: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-132   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 132: The Jinshin no Ran, Part 4: The Afumi Campaign The Afumi soldiers on the western side of the bridge looked across the open expanse of water towards their Yoshino rivals on the eastern side.  If it weren't for the banners and the red tags barely visible on the sleeves of the opposing forces, it would be hard to know which side was which.  Both were equipped in similar ways, and a few of the soldiers could even make out familiar faces on the other side.  That is the nature of civil wars—especially in a conscript society, where the soldiers often had little choice which side they were fighting for.  Not that it necessarily mattered much to them which side came out on top, whatever their commanders might have told them. The bridge across the Seta river was large and wide, and normally quite well traveled.  Now, however, the central boards had been pulled up for a span of about 30 feet or so, leaving a gap spanned by only a single, narrow plank.  That plank was, itself, tied to a rope, which was being held by the Afumi troops.  The soldiers knew that should any of the enemy try to cross, they could pull the plank out from under them and they would fall into the river, their metal armor dragging them down into the dark depths of swirling water below.  Even should they somehow make it across without being peppered by arrows, there would be no reinforcements coming: they would be slaughtered, and the trap would be reset. It seemed like the Afumi forces held all the cards in this battle, and yet they were still tense. Archers could still shoot across the distance. The front rank of troops held wooden shields as a defense, but there were still openings in the formation and the armor, and in the chaos of battle, nobody was truly safe. And so the Afumi forces waited.  Confident, but wary. A commotion on the eastern side of the bridge grabbed the spotlight.  The Yoshino forces had approached, and they were clearly preparing for something.  The Afumi soldiers strained to see what was going on.  Suddenly, the front line of the Yoshino forces parted, and a strange sight confronted the Afumi soldiers.  It took them a moment to fully comprehend what was barreling towards them at full tilt: a soldier that looked almost like two soldiers put together, wearing armor placed over armor, in an attempt to protect from harm.  It must have been heavy, and as he stepped on the beam, it visibly buckled under the weight.  The Afumi archers let loose with their arrows and crossbow bolts, but to no avail.  They simply stuck in the armor, adding to the bizarre and otherworldly appearance of their opponent. The spell was broken on the Afumi side as arrows came cascading in.  The Yoshino forces weren't just sitting idly back, they were making sure they were doing everything they could to keep the Afumi forces distracted.  And for a split second it worked—and a split second was all they needed.  Before the soldiers could gather up their wits about them enough to pull the rope there was a terrifying sound of metal on wood.  The Afumi soldiers pulled the rope, but it came all too easy—the Yoshino soldier had dashed across and cut the rope tied to the plank.  Behind him, the Yoshino forces were now pouring across the bridge.  Soon they would establish a foothold, and behind the front line they would be able to have other soldiers place more planks so that the number of Yoshino soldiers on the Western side of the bridge only continued to increase. Realizing that their trap had been circumvented, the Afumi forces fell back, but their strategic withdrawal soon turned into a full on retreat.  While pockets of soldiers resisted, many were suddenly all too aware that perhaps it was better to live and fight another day, instead.  Despite threats and even attacks from their own commanders, the Afumi forces fled the battlefield, leaving the Yoshino army victorious.  With the Seta bridge now secured, there were no more major obstacles in their way:  They would march to the capital at Ohotsu and finish this war.   Welcome back!  This is Part 4, and so if you haven't already done so, I recommend going back and starting with Part 1.  That said, we'll briefly recap here. Over the past three episodes, we've talked about the causes of the war between Prince Ohotomo and Prince Ohoama as they vied for the throne.  Prince Ohotomo seemingly had the stronger position, as he was actually running the Yamato state from the Afumi capital in Ohotsu.  He had the various ministers and all the official organs of the state on his side.   He was also 23 years old. Ohoama, on the other side, was Ohotomo's paternal uncle.  His own son, Prince Takechi, was 19 years old and helping to lead the army.   Upon learning that the State was gathering forces against him, Ohoama had quickly moved east, gathering forces as he went, and now he stood near Fuwa, modern day Sekigahara, prepared to begin his march on the capital.   This episode we are going to cover the conclusion of the war.  Warning, though, this is going to be a *lot*.  A lot of place names and people names.  Apologies if it is hard to follow.  I'll have a rough map and info on the various players on the podcast blog, so you may want to bring that up if you are having problems following. In Part I of this series we covered the causes leading up to the conflict.  In Part II we covered Ohoama's mad dash to Fuwa, at modern Sekigahara.  Last episode, Part III we covered the fighting in the Nara Basin. This episode we are going to talk about the last two fronts of the war: the defense of the Iga area and Kurafu Pass, and the march from Fuwa to the Afumi capital of Ohotsu. Before we go into the details of the next battles, let's look at what each side of the conflict was doing, what they are concerned about, and where they are on the board.  We'll then go into how the rest of the war played out, and its conclusion and aftermath.     Ohoama's Yoshino forces had largely been drawn from the countries in the east—the very same countries that Ohoama was denying to the Afumi court.  In response, the Afumi court had drawn their forces from where they could.  There were those that they had already called up under the pretense of building Naka no Oe's burial mound, but they had sent others out to raise troops in Yamato and out the western side of Honshu, all the way to Tsukushi—modern Kyushu.  However, not everyone in the Western region of the archipelago was friendly to the Afumi court—especially the regions of Kibi and Tsukushi.  This was significant.  Kibi was an ancient rival of Yamato, and likely could contribute a sizeable force.  Tsukushi, on the other hand, was quite large, and besides the conscripts from among the regular inhabitants, Tsukushi also was in charge of defending the archipelago from invasion—they were the first line of defense.  They had constructed numerous castles and fortifications to defend against a possible invasion, and those castles and fortifications were no doubt manned by troops that had been raised for that purpose.  If they could now be turned inwards, that could be enough to really turn the tide against Ohoama and his Yoshino army. The only problem was that neither Kibi nor Tsukushi were exactly sympathetic to the Afumi court.  The governor of Kibi and Prince Kurikuma, the viceroy of Tsukushi, both had ties to Ohoama, and the ministers suspected them of sympathizing with their Yoshino rivals.  As such the envoys that were sent out were authorized to take whatever drastic steps they felt necessary to secure the troops. So how did that all go down?  Well, last episode we talked about how Hodzumi no Momotari and his crew had been stopped from raising troops in Asuka by Ohotomo no Fukei, whose bluff of pretending to be Prince Takechi and a host of cavalry soldiers caused the conscripted troops to flee, and ended up in the death of Momotari and the capture of his compatriots. In Kibi, things took a turn in Afumi's favor.  When the Afumi government's envoy arrived at the government center in Kibi, he tricked the governor into taking off his sword.  Once he had done so, the envoy drew his own sword and killed the governor.  Without the governor to get in his way, the envoy then went about securing the land and troops for the Afumi court. Prince Kurikuma, the viceroy in Tsukushi, at the Dazaifu, was not quite so easily fooled, however.  Kurikuma knew how the court operated, and was apparently well informed of what was going on.  When the Afumi court's envoy met with Kurikuma, the Prince was flanked by two of his sons, Prince Mino and Prince Takebe, each one armed.  When Prince Kurikuma heard what the Afumi court wanted—for him to send the troops from Tsukushi to help quell Ohoama's rebellion—Kurikuma responded that he needed those troops to hold the border.  After all, the Tang dynasty was still a potential threat, and what good would it do to send the troops from the border regions to fight an internal war, only to then have an invader come in and destroy the state entirely?  No, he reasoned, he would not be sending the troops as the Afumi court requested. We are told that for a moment, the Afumi envoy thought about grabbing his sword and killing Prince Kurikuma, as the Afumi court had suggested, but with both of Kurikuma's sons armed on either side of him, he realized that he didn't have great odds, and so he eventually left, empty handed, but alive. This is significant.  While we don't know exact numbers, it is likely that there were quite a few troops stationed in Kyushu and the islands, all in case of foreign invasion.  By not supplying them to the Afumi court, Prince Kurikuma dealt a huge blow to the Afumi's ability to make war.  Add to that the fact that Ohoama had likewise blocked the court's access to the eastern countries, and that further narrowed the troops that Afumi had access to.  Nonetheless, they still had enough to be dangerous, and it is impossible to say exactly what might happen in a war. So we know where the Afumi and Yoshino forces ostensibly came from, but let's talk about the battlefield.  All of the fighting that we talk about was happening in an area between Naniwa—modern Ohosaka—and Fuwa, modern Sekigahara, northwest from the modern city of Nagoya. There are three main theaters we are talking about.  The first is in the Nara basin, which we talked about extensively in the last episode.  The Nara basin itself was not necessarily of the most strategic importance, militarily, but it was of huge symbolic importance.  After all, that was still the ancient capital, even though the governmental functions had been moved north, to Ohotsu, on the shores of Lake Biwa.  The second is in the Suzuka mountains.  This includes the areas of Iga and Kouka, and it is bordered by the Nara basin on the west, the Mie coastline on the east, and Afumi, the area around lake Biwa, to the north.  This is the same region that Ohoama had to naviagate through on his way from Yoshino to the east, and the mountains and valleys make it so that there are only so many traversable routes through.  For our narrative we are going to be primarily talking about the Kurafu Pass, between Kouka and Iga, at modern Tsuge city.  This pass  was an important route between Kouka, Iga, and Mie.  The road followed the Soma River which eventually flowed into Lake Biwa.  This made it a route out of Afumi, and if the Afumi forces could secure the Kurafu pass and the fields of Tara, just on the other side, they could split Ohoama's forces and cut off any help that he could possibly send to the Nara basin, and possibly even take Ohoama from behind. Finally, let's talk about our third theater:  Afumi itself.  Specifically, we are looking at the southern and eastern sides around Lake Biwa.  Biwa is the largest lake in Japan, and it is almost entirely surrounded by mountains except for where the Seta river flows south, eventually winding its way to Naniwa.  Today, the area of Afumi is largely co-located with modern Shiga Prefecture. Back in 668, after finding themselves on the losing side of the Baekje-Tang war, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, had moved the capital to Ohotsu, or Big Port, in Afumi, on the shores of Lake Biwa, likely for the protection it gave.  From Afumi, there were three major routes out of the basin, and a few minor ones.  All of them were through defensible mountain passes, like Karafu Pass, Fuwa Pass, and Suzuka Pass.  Three such passes:  Fuwa, Suzuka, and Arachi would become prominent barriers, or seki, along the ancient roads, and were known as the Sangen, or Three Barriers, protecting the capital region.  Suzuka no seki, at the pass of the same name, was in the south.  To reach it from Afumi, one crossed the Karafu pass, and then turned east through a pass near Mt. Miyama.  At the northern tip of the Suzuka mountains was Fuwa pass, future home of the Fuwa barrier.  The Barrier, or “Seki” would give its name to the area in another form:  Sekigahara.  This was along the Tousandou, the Eastern Mountain road, and even today it is the path through which roads and even the Shinkansen traverse between eastern and western Honshu.  Finally, though less important to our story, was the Arachi pass. Arachi no seki was part of the Hokurikudo, the Northern Land Route, and led to the ancient country of Kochi and the port of Tsuruga, which had a long history as an alternate port, especially for ships sailing from Goguryeo.  Later, Arachi no seki would be replaced in the Sangen ranking by another pass between Afumi and modern Kyoto, which would be known as the Afusaka, or Ohosaka, Pass.  This was the pass that would have been used to get to Yamashiro and, from there, to Naniwa and the Nara Basin. These three passes would come to define the island of Honshu, and became the dividing line between the Kanto region, in the east, and the Kansai region, in the west.  By holding the Suzuka and Fuwa passes, Ohoama effectively denied any travel to the eastern regions.  Sure, Afumi could have tried going through the Arachi pass and into Kochi, but then they would have had to traverse the Japan alps—no small feat, especially without modern conveniences like the trains and busses used today. From Fuwa Pass, where Ohoama and Prince Takechi had set up their headquarters, it was largely a straight shot to the Afumi capital of Ohotsu.  Between Lake Biwa and the Suzuka mountains is a wide, flat plain, divided primarily by the rivers and streams running out from the mountains into the lake.  Immediately west of Fuwa is the area of Maibara.  Following the shore of the lake one traverses through modern Hikone, to Yasu.  Yasu would also have been the location where the road to the Karafu pass broke off into the Suzuka mountains.  Beyond that was the bridge across the Seta River. The Seta river was one of the largest obstacles that would have to be negotiated, and the Afumi forces knew this.  Just as Ohoama would set up at Fuwa pass, a large number of the Afumi forces were set up on the western bank of the Seta river.  If the Yoshino forces could get across, however, it would mean that they had a more or less unimpeded route to the capital at Ohotsu. So now let's talk about what was happening in each of these places. Ohoama had set up at Fuwa—Sekigahara—and had begun to call soldiers to him.  Not only did did this allow him to block the rival Afumi troops from accessing the Eastern countries and possibly raising troops to use against him, but he was also able to maintain a line of communication with ancient Yamato, in the Nara Basin.  In order to keep his communication lines open, and to ensure that the Afumi forces couldn't sneak up behind him, Ohoama split his forces in two.  He knew that Afumi forces were trying to take his stronghold in Yamato, and if successful, from there they could move in to Uda and on to Iga.  thereafter that, they could march up behind him through the Suzuka pass.  Alternatively, the forces in Afumi could come up through Kouka and the Karafu pass, and then try to divide and conquer So the first group of Ohoama's army were to go south, through the Suzuka pass into their mountain namesake.  Once there, Oho no Omi no Honji was to hold Tarano, the Plain of Tara, where the routes to Suzuka, Kafuka, and Iga met.  Tanaka no Omi no Tarumaro went with him, with orders to guard the Kurafu pass, which is to say the road to Kouka.  This first group was headed by Ki no Omi no Abemaro, and also included Miwa no Kimi no Kobito, and Okizome no Muraji no Usagi.  Along with what we are told were tens of thousands of men, this first made their way south from Fuwa  through Mie and Ise and over the Suzuka pass.  Once there, they took up their positions at Karafu and Tarano.  It was a good thing, too, because only a couple of days after they arrived, the enemy struck.   Now as soon as he got there, Oho no Honji had fortified Tarano with some three thousand men, and Tanaka no  Tarumaro was sent to guard the Kurafu pass.  Prior to this, Tarumaro had been the official in charge of the Hot Springs in Ise, but he had joined Ohoama and the Yoshino forces when they first arrived over the Suzuka Pass.  Now he was in charge of a military force, encamped along the road through the Kurafu pass, waiting for the enemy. Unbeknownst to him, a deputy commander of the Afumi forces, Tanabe no Wosumi, was approaching from Mt. Kafuka.  Presumably he'd been sent out from Ohotsu and had followed the road along the Yasu and Soma rivers towards the pass.  Wosumi had  sizeable force with him, but he was not looking for a direct assault.  Even if he would win, he would suffer casualties, especially trying to attack an entrenched enemy in a fortified position.  He needed to be sneaky.  He had no way of knowing that, centuries later, the lands of Iga and Kouka would be known for their sneaky warriors—their legendary ninja—but I digressed.  What Wosumi did was this.  First, he rolled up his banners and muffled the drums.  He even had his men gag themselves—a continental custom where soldiers were given a stick to hold in their mouth, like a horse's bit, to discourage any talking amongst the ranks as they approached.  Presumably, they kept them in until just before attacking, because they also devised a watchword “kane”—transcribed as metal or gold.  Wosumi knew that it would be hard enough to tell who was who in the daytime—after all, it wasn't like these were regimented forces with uniforms.  The soldiers were likely all wearing whatever they had available, and clothing and armor would have been similar across the two armies.  At night, even some kind of mark or flag would hardly be enough to tell who was who in the dark.  As lines broke and melee ensued, it would be easy to get turned around, and find yourself facing a friend.  By saying the watchword you could distinguish friend from foe. Sure enough, this tactic worked.  The Afumi forces broke through the Yoshino fortifications in the middle of the night and swarmed into the encampment.  Men who had been asleep were waking up to chaos.  Tarumaro's Yoshino soldiers were thrown into confusion.  Tarumaro himself, escaped, but just barely.  we are told that he noticed that the enemy kept shouting the word “kane”, and so he started doing it as well. The Afumi forces, assuming he was one of their own, left him alone.  Still, he only escaped with difficulty. His escape was no doubt critical, however.   He presumably would have headed to Tarano to try and warn Oho no Honji, but this may not have been possible, as we are told that on the following day, after the attack at Karafu pass, the Afumi commander Wosumi continued his advance, and came upon the Yoshino encampment at Tarano unexpectedly.  Still, General Honji did not back down.  With a force of hand-picked soldiers, Honji counterattacked against Wosumi and struck him.  We are told that Wosumi made it out—the only one who did—but that he did not try and make another attack.  The Yoshino forces would ultimately hold the pass and the critical juncture of Tarano.  The Afumi forces would not get a second chance. By the way, a quick note here:  I can't help but notice a bit of a trope showing up in these stories:  At Narayama, General Fukei is defeated, and is the only person who makes his escape.  Then Tarumaro is the only person to escape his defeat.  Finally, Wosumi is the only one of his forces to leave the plain of Tara. I am more than a little incredulous that these generals are the only ones who actually survived, and that the rest of the army was slaughtered.  In fact, you may recall that at the battle at Taima, General Fukei told his men not to pursue the fleeing common soldiers.  As I've tried to point out, the common soldiers were not likely as invested in the cause.  In fact, it is just as possible that the common soldiers may have changed sides and joined the other army if they thought it would serve them well.  Or maybe they were escaping and just blending into the countryside.  After all, the elites weren't really spending the time to get to know them, let along record any details about them.  So I suspect that it was more about the fact that the various armies would be broken, and the soldiers flung to the four corners, rather than that they were necessarily slaughtered.  After all, if you had the choice, would you have stayed there? A few days after Wosumi was defeated, the Yoshino general that Ohoama had sent to Iga along with Honji and Tarumaro, Ki no Omi no Abemaro, heard that their ally, Ohotomo no Fukei was in trouble in the Nara Basin.  He'd been defeated by the Afumi general Ohono no Hatayasu at Narayama,  and without reinforcements, the entire Nara Basin could fall, along with the ancient Yamato capital at Asuka. So Abemaro sent Okizome no Muraji no Usagi with more than a thousand cavalry to go assist.  They met Fukei at Sumizaka, and suddenly, things were looking up in the Nara Basin.  For more on how that turned out, check out last episode, where we covered the events in the Nara Basin. Once the events in the Nara Basin settled out, then both the Nara Basin and the Karafu pass would be well and truly in the hands of the Yoshino forces.  But there was no way for those guarding those locations to know that the fighting was over, and they would have to hold their positions until the fighting had definitively stopped.  Which brings us back to Ohoama and the Yoshino troops gathered at Fuwa, where things were about to kick off as well.  The troops at Fuwa, while being led by Ohoama and his 19 year old son, Takechi, were placed under the command of Murakuni no Muraji no Woyori—who, , as things progressed, would be noted as the primary general for the campaign that would lead Yoshino troops from Fuwa, on the offensive towards Ohotsu. The only reason that they seem to have waited before going on the offensive was that every day, more troops were coming in.  So even as the fighting was going on in Nara and at the Karafu pass, the Yoshino army at Fuwa gathered men and made their preparations.  As they did so, the Afumi court Was going to do whatever they could to try and break them, hoping that they could stop the threat posed by Ohoama and his men before they began their march. For the Afumi forces first attempt to break the Yoshino defenses at Fuwa pass, they picked troops to try and make an incursion into the village of Tamakurabe, which appears to have been in the pass itself; it was probably modern Tama district of Sekigahara.  They were repelled, however, by Izumo no Omi no Koma, who drove them off. Later, the Afumi court ordered another force of several tens of thousands of men to attack under the command of Prince Yamabe no Ou, Soga no Omi no Hatayasu, and Kose no Omi no Hito.  Soga no Hatayasu and Kose no Hito were both part of the inner circle of the Afumi court, or so it would seem.  When Prince Ohotomo had taken the reins of the government in a ceremony in the Western Hall of the Palace, he was attended by the ministers of the right and left, as well as Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi.  They were at the very heart of this whole matter.  Prince Yamabe is a little bit more of a mystery.  We know he was someone of note, and when Prince Ohotsu was brought to his parents, they were apparently traveling under the guise of Prince Yamabe and another prince, Prince Ishikawa.  But we know little else. The three men and their Afumi troops headed out and camped on the bank of the Inukami river, near modern Hikone.  There, however, trouble broke out. The Nihon Shoki does not record exactly what it was, but there must have been some kind of falling out.  Prince Yamabe no Ou was killed by Soga no Hatayasu and Kose no Hito.  We don't know if this was due to some quarrel or what, but either way, it threw the army into a state of disarray and there was no way for them to move forward.  Soga no Hatayasu appears to have taken responsibility for whatever happened, as he headed back from Inukami, presumably back to Ohotsu, where he took his own life by stabbing himself in the throat.  There would be no attack on Fuwa Pass, however. Finally, the Nihon Shoki also recounts the story of another Afumi general, named Hata no Kimi no Yakuni, and his son, Ushi.  Together with others, who remain unnamed, they surrendered themselves to Ohoama and the Yoshino forces, rather than fighting.  It isn't clear if they were deserters, if they had been part of one of the other two attempts to take Fuwa Pass, or if there was something else going on.  Either way, Ohoama was so pleased that he welcomed them in and we are told that Hata no Yakuni was “granted a battle axe and halberd” and appointed a general.  This is probably stock phrasing, but it does seem he was given some measure of trust.  Yakuni's men were then sent north, to Koshi. We aren't quite sure what those forces' ultimate objective was.  It may have been that he was to take the northern pass and make sure that none of the Afumi troops tried to escape and head to the East along that road.  Many of the accounts of this war seem to suggest that he, or at least some part of the forces, were to head north and then come around Lake Biwa the long way.  This would mean that if Ohoama attacked, there would be no easy way to flee.  From Ohotsu they couldn't turn north without running into more troops, and their only escape would seem to be through the Afusaka pass towards the area of modern Kyoto.  And of course, whoever was victorious in the Nara Basin would then be able to control the route to the coast. It is unclear how much Ohoama could have actually known, though, about what was happening across the various distances.  Messages would have meant riders on swift horses carrying them; they couldn't just text each other what was going on. And so, with one attack repelled, another aborted, and a turncoat now on their side, Ohoama's Yoshino forces were finally ready to head out on the offensive themselves.  According to the Nihon Shoki this was on the 7th day of the 7th month—Tanabata, today, but I doubt people were paying much mind to the Weaver and the Cowherd.  Murakuni no Woyori, with the group advancing from Fuwa to Afumi, set out, and met with their first resistance at the Yokugawa river in Okinaga.  As far as I can tell, this is likely the Amano River in modern Maibara, which anyone who takes the Shinkansen between Kanto and Kansai probably recognizes as one of the usual stops.  Once again, we have a situation where, while they would have had banners flying, in the crush of battle it could be quite easy to mistake friend for foe, especially with large numbers of troops who were pulled from vastly different regions.  You had to have some way of knowing quickly who was on your side – that's why the Afumi commander Wosumi had his troops use the password “kane”, for example.  Ohoama's approach was to have his men place a red mark—possibly a ribbon or similar—on their clothing so that one could tell who, at a glance, was on their side.  As a note, later samurai would sometimes attach flags to their shoulder armor, or sode, and these “sode-jirushi” would help identify you even if people didn't recognize your armor.  Ohoama's troops may have used something similar. And so Woyori's Yoshino forces attacked the Afumi defenders, and the Afumi troops were clearly outmatched.  Woyori's men killed the Afumi commander and defeated the opposing forces. But that was just the beginning.  Afumi forces had been stationed all along the route from Fuwa to Ohotsu.  Thus it was that only two days later Woyori and his men made it to Mt. Tokoyama, probably in Hikone, by the Seri river.  There they met more Afumi soldiers, but once again they were triumphant and slew the opposing commander.   Woyori and his men were on a roll. I would point out that these battles aren't given much detail, but we do see how it progressed.  There are names of various individuals and commanders—certainly not much on the common people.  From what we can tell, this was not a rush to Ohotsu, but rather a slow march, probably doing their best to fortify their positions and make sure that nobody was sneaking up on them.  After each battle, it is some days before the next, probably spent spying out ahead and formulating plans. Woyori and his men next fought a battle on the banks of the Yasukawa River, presumably near modern Yasu city.  Here, Aston's translation claims that he suffered a great defeat, but more likely I suspect it means to say that he inflicted a great defeat on the Afumi forces, because if he had been defeated, how would he have pressed on only a few days later.  We are told that  two men, presumably the Afumi commanders, were both taken prisoner. Since we don't have anything more about them in the narrative all we can really do is assume that they must have therefore been on the side of the Afumi forces. By taking Yasu, that would have likely cut off the Afumi forces from any future considerations about using the Kurafu Pass.  The noose around Ohotsu was slowly tightening. Four days after that, on the 17th day of the 7th month, Woyori attacked and repulsed the Kurimoto army—presumably a force loyal to the Afumi court under a general named Kurimoto, or possibly raised from a place called Kurimoto, perhaps over on Awaji.  Either way, it was another victory on Woyori's belt. From there, Woyori and his men arrived at Seta, where they would have to cross the Setagawa—the Seta River. The Seta River is a wide river, and the only one flowing out of Lake Biwa.  It winds its way south and west, eventually becoming the Uji and then the Yodo rivers, which flow all the way to Naniwa—modern Ohosaka.  At the Seta river, there was a major bridge, the only way across, other than to swim.  Prince Ohotomo and his ministers, along with their entire army, were encamped on the west side of the bridge.  Their forces were so numerous that it was said you could not see all the way to the back of them.  Their banners covered the plain, and the dust of their movement caused a cloud to rise into the sky.  Their drums and songs could be heard for miles around.  We are told they even had crossbows, and when they were discharged the arrows fell like rain.  Of course, some of this may have just been more poetic license by the authors of the Nihon Shoki, but you get the picture:  There were a lot of troops on the western side of the river. The bridge itself was defended by General Chison.  We know very little of this general, as he only appears in this one part of the record, but his name implies that he may have been from the continent.  We aren't given a surname, and it is possible he was one of the Baekje refugees, now fighting for the Afumi court.  He led an advance body of specially selected troops, and in the middle of the bridge they had removed planks for about three rods or thirty feet.  Across that span was a single plank, daring anyone to try and cross it.  Of course, if they did, they would be a sitting duck in front of the enemy archers, and the plank was attached by a rope so that it could always be pulled out from under them.  It seemed as if it were impossible to advance. Finally, one of Woyori's soldiers, Ohokida no Kimi no Wakaomi, got up the courage to cross.  We are told that he put on double armor, put down his long spear, and drew his sword.  He then charged suddenly across the plank and cut the rope on the other side before the Afumi troops could pull it back.  In spite of the arrows that were raining down on him, he entered the ranks of the Afumi troops, slashing with his sword as he went.  The Afumi forces were thrown into confusion and some of them tried to leave, but General Chison drew his own sword and began to cut down anyone who tried to flee.  Still, he was unable to check the rout.  Woyori's troops secured the bridge and soon were pouring across it.  They cut down General Chison and advanced into the Afumi army, who broke and ran.  The Afumi sovereign, Ohotomo, aka Koubun Tennou, along with the Ministers of the Left and Right, narrowly escaped with their lives. Woyori and his troops marched to the foot of Awazu hill, and we are told that Hata no Yakuni, the Afumi commander who had earlier defected, and whose men were sent north to Koshi, set a siege to Miwo castle along with Izumo no Koma, who had defended against the attempted seizure of Tamakurabe.  Presumably this is Mio, south of Ohotsu, and it was likely guarding the southern approach to the Afumi capital. The only thing here that gives me pause is that we were earlier told that Yakuni's men, after he defected, were sent to Koshi.  So was Yakuni not with them?  Had he returned?  Or had the troops made it all the way around Lake Biwa already, taking the longer route up and around the lake? Regardless of how it happened, Yakuni and Koma were able to take Miwo castle.  As a reminder, a “castle” at this time would have likely been defined more by its walls, which were probably rammed earth and wood—not the elegantly sloping stone walls and  donjon base that would come to typify castles of the Warring States period. The following day, Woyori and his men continued their pursuit.  At the Awazu marketplace, Woyori ran into the Afumi generals Inukahi no Muraji no Isokimi and Hasama no Atahe no Shihote.  We mentioned Isokimi last episode—he was the Afumi commander attacking the Middle Road in the Nara Basin.  His deputy, Kujira, had been defeated, and it seems Isokimi had retreated back to Afumi and rejoined the main force. He would not be quite so fortunate this time.  Isokimi and Shihote were both slain, and Ohotomo fled once again.  He didn't get very far, hiding at Yamazaki, thought to be near the site of the modern city hall, in Ohotsu. Despite his best efforts, he knew he would be discovered, and he eventually strangled himself, rather than facing the humiliation and punishment that would come with capture. With Ohotomo dead, the other ministers of the Afumi court dispersed and fled.  Woyori and his men, meeting up at Sasanami, hunted down the Ministers of the Left and Right—Soga no Akaye and Nakatomi no Kane—as well as others who had fought with Ohotomo and who were considered criminals. They were all marched back to Fuwa, where, on the 25th day of the 7th month, Ohotomo's head was presented to Ohoama.  The war, it seems, was over. Or at least, the fighting was over.  There was still a lot to be settled.  First off, it would hardly have been practical to wipe out every single person on the losing side.  For one thing, that would have devastated the Court even further, likely creating a huge power vacuum.  In addition, many of the supporters on both sides were not necessarily there out of purely partisan reasons.  I would point out that many of the family names that we see in the record are found on both sides of the conflict.  Inukahi no Isokimi may have fought for Ohotomo, but we also see an Inukahi no Ohotomo fighting on the behalf of Ohoama.  Fumi no Nemaro was a major commander in Ohoama's army, while Fumi no Kusuri had been sent by the Afumi court to raise troops in the East Country.  And Hasama no Shihote was killed with Isokimi at Awazu, while a Hasama no Nemaro was working under the command of General Fukei, in Nara, to guard Tatsuta. There wasn't necessarily a simple divide along family lines.  It is possible that these individuals were all fairly well removed from each other, and from different parts of their respective families, or clans. They are often given different kabane, the family rank system used at this time, though I suspect that may have more to do with later changes, with those on the winning side being promoted over those who supported the Afumi court.  However, it is also the case that Japan has a long history of family members supporting both sides in any major conflict.  That way, no matter who wins, the family itself finds itself on the winning side. But there did have to be some accountability.  This is something that one can point to time and again—if the losing side is not held accountable for their actions, then what is to prevent them from just regrouping and trying again?  And yet that need for justice and punishment must be tempered with some amount of humanity. Ultimately, about one month after the end of the war, eight of the Afumi ministers were found guilty of truly heinous offences and they were condemned to suffer what the Nihon Shoki says was the “Extreme Penalty”.  The Minister of the Right, Nakatomi no Kane, was executed at Tane, in Asai.  Meanwhile the Minister of the Left, Soga no Akaye; along with the Dainagon, or Grand Councillor, Kose no Hito, as well as their children and grandchildren, along with the children of the late Nakatomi no Kane and Soga no Hatayasu, were all sent into banishment.  All others were pardoned. And of course those who had supported Ohoama, and who had come to his aid, were given public favour and reward.  In many cases this likely meant receiving high office and corresponding rank, along with increased stipend payments.  There is a notable shift in the makeup of the court, going forward, and it seems clear that families would want to associate themselves with those who fought on Ohoama's side, rather than Ohotomo's, if they could help it.  That was no doubt a part of works like the various diaries and house records that would have been used to compile the Nihon Shoki, recording the deeds that any house did for the throne. Along with all of the punishments and plaudits that were meted out in the 8th month of 672, there was one more event—something of an outlier.  We are told that Chihisakobe no Muraji no Sabichi, the governor of the province of Wohari, went off into the mountains and committed suicide. Sabichi had originally met Ohoama at the Kuwana district house—the local government office—when he had first arrived from Yoshino.  He had a large number of troops—20,000 by the Nihon Shoki's count—which helped Ohoama to ultimately defeat the Afumi court.  So why he would go off into the mountains and commit suicide was anyone's guess.  The Nihon Shoki suggests that it was possible that his allegiance had changed, and he may have been trying to plot against Ohoama.  Perhaps he had been convinced that Afumi court was going to come out on top, and so had begun some plot.  Or he just had a falling out or became disillusioned for some reason.  Whatever it was, it remains a mystery, even today. With the war concluded, it was time for Ohoama to make his way from the field to the Capital so that he could transition to ruling the State properly.  But Ohoama was not interested, it would seem, in setting himself up in his brother's capital.  Setting up in the Ohotsu capital may have raised a few eyebrows.  It had not been a completely popular move to begin with, and it was also the home of the Afumi court's legitimacy.  To take up the throne there, I can only imagine that it would have further reinforced the idea that Ohoama was the usurper, taking the throne that was meant for his nephew.  Instead, he made the decision to travel to the ancient capital, in Asuka, but he was not in a hurry. They headed out on the 8th day of the 9th month of 672, making it from Fuwa to Kuwana.  Here he likely met up with his wife, Princess Uno, and his ten year old son, Prince Ohotsu.  The following day they headed out, traveling back along the route that they had taken from Yoshino, but at a much more leisurely route.  The royal carriage stayed the night in Suzuka.  From there, it was another day to Abe, likely referring to modern Ahai county, in Iga, near Ueno city.  They then continued on to Nabari.  Finally, on the 12th day,they arrived at the Yamato capital—that is to say Asuka—and Ohoama took up residence for a time at the Shima Palace.  This was only, it seems, to give people time to get the actual palace ready, because three days later, Ohoama moved into the Wokamoto Palace.  And with that, Ohoama began the work of running the state—but there was still plenty to prepare.  For one thing, there were foreign embassies—Kim Ap-sil and others arrived.  It was still going to take a while to get the capital ready for guests, though.  From what we can tell, they were probably building a grand new palace, and it would take some time for it to be prepared.  So the Silla embassy was entertained in Tsukushi, where Prince Kurikuma would have been in charge of hosting them.  They were likely filled on the new developments and provided a ship. Meanwhile, Ohoama made sure that all of the appropriate rewards were given out.  On the 4th day of the 12th month, we are told that all those who had rendered services were given higher cap-ranks, based on what they had done. And as the year 672 closes out—and with it, the first of the two Chronicles for Ohoama, the soon-to-be elevated Temmu Tennou. But there is one final entry, marking the death of Wina no Kimi no Takami in the 12th month of the year.  We know that Wina no Kimi no *Iwasuki* was working for the Afumi court, sent to rally troops in the East, but he fled when they encountered Ohoama's troops at Fuwa Pass.  Takami, on the other hand, we know little about, but I suspect may have been on the side of Ohoama.  It is an odd entry, and, like so many, unexplained.  Perhaps it meant something to the people of the early 8th century, but if so, that meaning is likely lost to us. And so we close the book on the Jinshin no Ran—the Jinshin War, or possibly the Disturbance or even Rebellion, depending on how you feel about it.  This account is one of the most detailed we have of this kind of event, and yet it does not seem that it was entirely unique.  There are plenty of indications that previous sovereigns had to fight their way to the throne, or else had to repel others who would try to take it by force.  This was almost a tradition among the royal house of Yamato.  But now that the matter of succession was well and truly settled, it was time to get on with other things. Who knows what an Afumi court may have done and how they could have changed things.  What we do know is what Ohoama—and his queen, Uno no Himemiko—did.  They built upon, or in some cases possibly even fabricated, the legacy of Naka no Oe.  They would set in stone many of the things that had been put in place, and at the same time make certain changes, as well.  The Yamato state was getting started. And we'll start to dive into that 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.  

VDVV-1846_1885 -Giu Cai Chia Khoa NMADĐP De Mo Nhung Gi Lo Bich Trong Noi Tam Noi Tang Cua Chung Ta.mp3PodCast ChannelsVô Vi Podcast - Vấn Đạo  Vô Vi Podcast - Băn GiảngVô Vi Podcast - Nhạc Thiền

durée : 01:16:58 - Les Nuits de France Culture - par : Albane Penaranda - Plongée au cœur des premières lueurs de l'aube, entre récits d'autrefois et éveil de la nature. Ce premier épisode d'une série de quatre émissions nous invite à vivre la magie du jour naissant en compagnie de chasseurs, de paysans, véritables conteurs et témoins privilégiés de cet instant unique. - réalisation : Vincent Abouchar - invités : Jean-Jacques Brochier Critique littéraire; Louis Dandrel Musicologue, designer sonore, compositeur.; Jean-Christophe Bailly Essayiste, écrivain

Markus & Kerry Crowley - Hour 4: Tedy Bruschi & Tracy Sandler join the show; plus WDYTLT: Tang (drink mix)See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Markus & Kerry Crowley - Hour 4: Tedy Bruschi & Tracy Sandler join the show; plus WDYTLT: Tang (drink mix)See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

« Dis-moi à quel jeu tu joues, je te dirai qui tu es ». C'est une série spéciale de RFI à la découverte des jeux populaires à travers le monde, ces jeux qui, à travers les joueurs, parlent de la culture et de l'identité de chaque pays. En Chine, où les échecs chinois (xiangqi en mandarin), sont toujours largement pratiqués, avec environ 6,8 millions de joueurs réguliers. Bien que traditionnellement associé aux générations plus âgées, ce jeu reste présent chez les jeunes, avec des clubs dans les universités et les lycées. Mais comme beaucoup de jeux de société traditionnels, le xiangqi a du mal à maintenir sa popularité auprès des jeunes, en particulier avec l'essor des divertissements numériques. Ritan Park, en plein cœur de Pékin. Il est à peine 8 h 30, et déjà plusieurs curieux se pressent autour d'une table. Deux hommes jouent au xiangqi, l'échiquier chinois. Tang, l'un des joueurs, nous explique les règles : « Le char se déplace en ligne droite, le canon saute par-dessus, le cheval forme un L, l'éléphant traverse en diagonale, peu à peu, on apprend. » Mais le xiangqi n'est pas qu'un jeu. Pour Liu, observateur passionné, il raconte surtout des histoires : « Beaucoup de vieilles histoires se retrouvent dans le jeu. Chaque pièce représente un guerrier, un côté de l'armée. Il y a la rivière, la frontière. C'est l'art de la guerre, au départ. Tous les gens aiment ça pour son contexte culturel. Il y a tant d'histoires derrière, si on les connaît. » Dans la conversation mêlée, Ke nous dit que c'est un héritage, mais aussi un outil d'apprentissage : « Je pense que ça aide les enfants à comprendre la culture traditionnelle. Et ça peut aussi développer leur intelligence. C'est une manière d'entraîner l'esprit. » Le xiangqi « c'est dans l'ADN chinois » Mais aujourd'hui, ce sont surtout les aînés qui perpétuent la tradition. Les jeunes, eux, se tournent vers d'autres distractions, rebondit Liu : « C'est comme l'opéra de Pékin, les jeunes n'aiment pas ça. Le changement culturel est différent. La jeune génération n'a pas la patience. Ils regardent TikTok cinq secondes, et c'est fini. C'est une question de génération. C'est pareil chez vous ! L'époque progresse, et c'est très bien. Mais parfois, il faut regarder en arrière pour comprendre l'histoire, le contexte culturel. Savoir d'où l'on vient. » Et dans cette transmission, il y a aussi une part de fierté, nous dit Li, un vieil homme au sourire franc qui suit de près le mouvement des joueurs, en s'exclamant parfois : « untel aurait plutôt dû avancer son pion dans l'autre sens ! ». « C'est ainsi que les choses se passent. Ça fait partie de notre culture traditionnelle, non ? On devrait faire de notre mieux pour la promouvoir. Si ça se développait à l'international, ça renforcerait aussi le prestige national. »  Pour Liu, le xiangqi incarne une philosophie de vie : « C'est la façon de penser, comme Confucius. C'est difficile à traduire, mais c'est dans l'ADN chinois. » Jeu de stratégie, miroir de la société, mémoire vivante. Malgré les défis de la modernité, le xiangqi reste un pilier de la vie culturelle. Des efforts sont là pour transmettre ce patrimoine aux plus jeunes et faire de ce jeu de stratégie une histoire toujours en mouvement.

Nosotros no nos olvidamos de nuestras raíces y por eso volvemos con un especial que nos lanzó al estrellato (y a lo medicamentos psiquiátricos recetados): Los vatos embarazados. Aquí no hay ciencia que valga. Estos vatos se dan duro como cajón que no cierra y luego proceden a estar emBarcelona 9 meses. Punto. Entre medias se inventan excusas como "estamos predestinados a estar juntos porque yo huelo a Tang de naranja y tú a chocolate Dubai", cosas así. Yo (Alex) no entiendo muy bien, pero por eso MariJojos precide esta hora de alta cultura y, lo mejor, nos hace una comparación de cómo ha evolucionado el género a 5 años de nuestros primer especial.Si te gusta el BL, los caballitos de mar, los alfas, los omegas, los betas y las familias panistas pero compuestas por hombres puramente, este es tu episodio.

Références de l'émission Site plein air – Les balades artistiques en Méditerranée autour de l'étang de Thau (Hérault) - Renseignements auprès de l'office de tourisme Archipel de Thau - www.archipel-thau.com   Restauration : - La poulperie o À Sète o www.instagram.com/la_poulperie/     Site insolite – L'Abbaye Notre-Dame des Dombes et sa fabrication de musculine (Ain) - Ouvert tous les jours sauf le mardi de 10 h à 11 h 45 et de 14 h 30 à 18 h - Visite libre et gratuite - Visites guidées « Historiques » de l'abbaye le 3ème dimanche de chaque mois : 5€ - www.musculine.fr - www.dombes.chemin-neuf.fr   Hébergement : - Le domaine de la Bellière o À Villars-les-Dombes (à 7km de l'abbaye) o À partir de 190€ la nuit o www.domainedelabelliere.fr     Site savoir-faire – Le Compa, Conservatoire du Machinisme et des Pratiques agricoles à Chartres (Eure-et-Loire) - Ouvert du mercredi au dimanche, de 10 h à 12 h 30 et de 14 h à 18 h - Tarif : 5€ - www.lecompa.fr   Restauration : - Le Grand Monarque o À Chartres o www.grand-monarque.com     Balade culinaire – Fabrice Mignot – Le tourteau fromagé   Ingrédients : sel fin 150 g de sucre en poudre 150 g de beurre 250 g de farine 1 jaune d'œuf 250 g de fromage de chèvre frais 5 œufs entiers Lait 2 cuillères à soupe de fécule de pomme de terre   Préparation : - Étape 1 Préparer d'abord une pâte brisée avec la farine, 125 g de beurre, le jaune d'œuf, 1 pincée de sel et 1 ou 2 cuillerées à soupe d'eau. Ramasser la pâte en boule et l'envelopper dans un film alimentaire pour la laisser reposer pendant 1 heure au moins. Pendant ce temps, laisser le fromage de chèvre frais s'égoutter soigneusement. - Étape 2 Mettre le fromage de chèvre dans une terrine. Casser les œufs et séparer les blancs des jaunes. Battre le fromage avec 125 g de sucre en poudre et 1 ou 2 cuillerées à soupe de lait jusqu'à consistance homogène et onctueuse. Incorporer ensuite les jaunes d'œufs et la fécule en mélangeant délicatement. - Étape 3 En parallèle, battre les blancs d'œufs en neige très ferme avec le reste du sucre en poudre. Les incorporer ensuite délicatement à la préparation précédente. On peut parfumer le tout avec un trait d'essence de vanille, un peu de cognac ou d'eau de eur d'oranger. Beurrer le moule avec le reste du beurre, soit un moule spécial à tourteau, à fond arrondi, soit un moule à manquer rond. - Étape 4 Abaisser la pâte brisée et en garnir le moule. Verser la préparation au fromage frais dessus et lisser la surface de la pâte avec une spatule, très délicatement. Faire cuire dans le four à 180°C pendant 50 minutes environ, jusqu'à ce que le dessus se soulève en forme de dôme et brunisse de manière homogène. - Étape 5 Sortir le tourteau du four, le laisser refroidir et le démouler.     Site patrimoine – Le domaine royal de Marly (Yvelines) - Ouvert du mercredi au dimanche, de 14 h à 18 h jusqu'en octobre - Tarif : 7€ pour le musée / 10 € pour l'expérience de réalité virtuelle de l'éclipse - www.musee-domaine-marly.fr - www.chateaudeversailles.fr/decouvrir/domaine/domaine-marly   Restauration : - La cantine de Marius o À Saint-Germain-en-Laye o Formule midi en semaine à 22,50€ o www.lacantinedemarius.fr     Site plein air – Balade lumineuse le long du GR34 dans le Finistère nord - Réservation sur le site d'Abers Tourisme - Tarif : 6€ pour 2 heures - www.abers-tourisme.com/agenda/balade-guidee-nocturne-2/   Restauration : - Crêperie « La route des phares » o À Lilia (À 5km de Plouguerneau) o Crêperie familiale face à la mer o www.famille-bleunven.fr/creperie-la-route-des-phares-plouguerneau-art3.html     Site insolite – La cité immersive viking à Rouen (Seine-Maritime) - Réservation sur leur site internet - Tarif : 14,90€ / adulte - www.cites-immersives.fr   Restauration : - Café Hamlet o À Rouen o Dans un lieu historique : l'Aître Saint-Maclou o Formule le midi en semaine à 21,50€ o www.cafe-hamlet.fr Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Danella preaches on David vs Goliath from 1 Samuel 17.

Références de l'émission Site plein air – Les balades artistiques en Méditerranée autour de l'étang de Thau (Hérault) - Renseignements auprès de l'office de tourisme Archipel de Thau - www.archipel-thau.com   Restauration : - La poulperie o À Sète o www.instagram.com/la_poulperie/     Site insolite – L'Abbaye Notre-Dame des Dombes et sa fabrication de musculine (Ain) - Ouvert tous les jours sauf le mardi de 10 h à 11 h 45 et de 14 h 30 à 18 h - Visite libre et gratuite - Visites guidées « Historiques » de l'abbaye le 3ème dimanche de chaque mois : 5€ - www.musculine.fr - www.dombes.chemin-neuf.fr   Hébergement : - Le domaine de la Bellière o À Villars-les-Dombes (à 7km de l'abbaye) o À partir de 190€ la nuit o www.domainedelabelliere.fr     Site savoir-faire – Le Compa, Conservatoire du Machinisme et des Pratiques agricoles à Chartres (Eure-et-Loire) - Ouvert du mercredi au dimanche, de 10 h à 12 h 30 et de 14 h à 18 h - Tarif : 5€ - www.lecompa.fr   Restauration : - Le Grand Monarque o À Chartres o www.grand-monarque.com     Balade culinaire – Fabrice Mignot – Le tourteau fromagé   Ingrédients : sel fin 150 g de sucre en poudre 150 g de beurre 250 g de farine 1 jaune d'œuf 250 g de fromage de chèvre frais 5 œufs entiers Lait 2 cuillères à soupe de fécule de pomme de terre   Préparation : - Étape 1 Préparer d'abord une pâte brisée avec la farine, 125 g de beurre, le jaune d'œuf, 1 pincée de sel et 1 ou 2 cuillerées à soupe d'eau. Ramasser la pâte en boule et l'envelopper dans un film alimentaire pour la laisser reposer pendant 1 heure au moins. Pendant ce temps, laisser le fromage de chèvre frais s'égoutter soigneusement. - Étape 2 Mettre le fromage de chèvre dans une terrine. Casser les œufs et séparer les blancs des jaunes. Battre le fromage avec 125 g de sucre en poudre et 1 ou 2 cuillerées à soupe de lait jusqu'à consistance homogène et onctueuse. Incorporer ensuite les jaunes d'œufs et la fécule en mélangeant délicatement. - Étape 3 En parallèle, battre les blancs d'œufs en neige très ferme avec le reste du sucre en poudre. Les incorporer ensuite délicatement à la préparation précédente. On peut parfumer le tout avec un trait d'essence de vanille, un peu de cognac ou d'eau de eur d'oranger. Beurrer le moule avec le reste du beurre, soit un moule spécial à tourteau, à fond arrondi, soit un moule à manquer rond. - Étape 4 Abaisser la pâte brisée et en garnir le moule. Verser la préparation au fromage frais dessus et lisser la surface de la pâte avec une spatule, très délicatement. Faire cuire dans le four à 180°C pendant 50 minutes environ, jusqu'à ce que le dessus se soulève en forme de dôme et brunisse de manière homogène. - Étape 5 Sortir le tourteau du four, le laisser refroidir et le démouler.     Site patrimoine – Le domaine royal de Marly (Yvelines) - Ouvert du mercredi au dimanche, de 14 h à 18 h jusqu'en octobre - Tarif : 7€ pour le musée / 10 € pour l'expérience de réalité virtuelle de l'éclipse - www.musee-domaine-marly.fr - www.chateaudeversailles.fr/decouvrir/domaine/domaine-marly   Restauration : - La cantine de Marius o À Saint-Germain-en-Laye o Formule midi en semaine à 22,50€ o www.lacantinedemarius.fr     Site plein air – Balade lumineuse le long du GR34 dans le Finistère nord - Réservation sur le site d'Abers Tourisme - Tarif : 6€ pour 2 heures - www.abers-tourisme.com/agenda/balade-guidee-nocturne-2/   Restauration : - Crêperie « La route des phares » o À Lilia (À 5km de Plouguerneau) o Crêperie familiale face à la mer o www.famille-bleunven.fr/creperie-la-route-des-phares-plouguerneau-art3.html     Site insolite – La cité immersive viking à Rouen (Seine-Maritime) - Réservation sur leur site internet - Tarif : 14,90€ / adulte - www.cites-immersives.fr   Restauration : - Café Hamlet o À Rouen o Dans un lieu historique : l'Aître Saint-Maclou o Formule le midi en semaine à 21,50€ o www.cafe-hamlet.fr Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Speedrun records aren't that impressive anymore, it's all about the TTP! This might be our most impressive feat yet. We got more than just tips with Tang Tang.

This episode, the podcast takes a look at a poem Mao Zedong wrote in February 1936, after he and his party had undergone the near-death experience of the Long March. Yet still, Mao has the gumption to imply in the poem that he would be the greatest ruler China had ever seen.    My Translation of the Poem: Spring in a Soaked Garden - Snow The north country scenery, frozen over for a thousand miles, snow floating for ten thousand miles.    I look inside and outside the Great Wall of China,  all that remains is boundlessness.    Up and down the Yellow River, it has suddenly lost its surging vigor.   The mountains dance like silver snakes, the plains gallop like white elephants,  I want to compete with Heaven and see which of us is taller.    I must wait for a clear day,  and look at the snowy landscape wrapped in red and white, it's really bewitching.  The rivers and mountains, this land, is so pretty, it has brought out countless heroes to compete and serve the nation.   Pity Qin Shihuang, the first Chinese emperor, and Han Wudi, the greatest Han emperor, their writing ability ain't all that good.    Tang Taizong, the greatest Tang emperor, and Song Taizu, the greatest Song emperor, they kinda lack style.    Those northern barbarian rulers,  like Genghis Khan,  all they knew how to do was shoot arrows at big eagles.    Those guys are all dead, if you want to count the true badasses look to today.     Original Poem:  沁园春·雪 北国风光，千里冰封，万里雪飘。望长城内外，惟余莽莽；大河上下，顿失滔滔。山舞银蛇，原驰蜡象，欲与天公试比高。须晴日，看红装素裹，分外妖娆。 江山如此多娇，引无数英雄竞折腰。惜秦皇汉武，略输文采；唐宗宋祖，稍逊风骚。一代天骄，成吉思汗，只识弯弓射大雕。俱往矣，数风流人物，还看今朝。

YouTube account sernak le hmannak kongah Australia ramkomh cozah nih upadi thar a ser. Kum 16 tang ngakchia cu YouTube hmang kho ti lo dingin kham an si cang. Amah belte cu YouTube Kids bel cu zalong tein hmannak nawl pek an si.

Predigtpodcast Zoe Gospel Center, Predigt vom Sunday, 03.08.2025 von Petra Tang

ON TODAY'S SHOW: Opener Tradie V Lady First Calls + Sam Pang Birthday Wheel O News Sonia Kruger $10,000 Pop Quiz The Diary Week of Millionaires The Diary O News + Ally Langdon What's in Jackie's Mouth? + Lynne Mcgranger Karl Stefanovic Follow us on @kyleandjackieo for more.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/chinese-studies

Emerging from collapse of the Han empire, the founders of Northern Wei had come south from the grasslands of Inner Asia to conquer the rich farmlands of the Yellow River plains. Northern Wei was, in fact, the first of the so-called "conquest dynasties" complex states seen repeatedly in East Asian history in which Inner Asian peoples ruled parts of the Chinese world. An innovative contribution to East Asian and Chinese history of the medieval period, Northern Wei (386-534) combines received historical text and archaeological findings to examine the complex interactions between these originally distinct populations, and the way those interactions changed over time. Scott Pearce analyses traditions borrowed and adapted from the long-gone Han dynasty including government and taxation as well as the new cultural elements such as the use of armor for man and horse in the cavalry and the newly-invented stirrup. Further, this book discusses the fundamental change in the dynastic family, as empresses began to play an increasingly important role in the business of government. Though Northern Wei fell in the early sixth century, the nature of the state was thus fundamentally changed, in the Chinese world and East Asia as a whole; it had laid down a foundation from which a century later would emerge the world empire of Tang.

In this episode Randel and Owen talk with Kung Fu Coach and Teacher Abi Moriya about training in Taiwan in the 80's, Tang Sho Tao, Acupuncture and Hong Yi Xiang.Form his Web Site: "Martial artist, movement and Chinese medicine. One of the pioneers of Chinese and Filipino martial arts teachers in Israel. In his youth, in 1987, he embarked on a study trip following the documentary series "The Way of the Warrior," which ended with the late teacher Hong Yi-Shiang in Taiwan. My father balances the way of the warrior with the way of the healer: he is an expert in the martial art of Xingyi Chuan, various Chinese weapons, as well as the Filipino martial art of Serada Eskrima. In the field of health care, my father teaches Qigong and Tai Chi and trains instructors. He practices Chinese medicine with an emphasis on acupuncture, moxibustion and tui-na, as well as shiatsu. Head of the Martial Arts Department at the Nat Holman School for Instructors and Trainers, Wingate Institute. Author of the book "Bright Tiger, Dark Dragon: Chinese Martial Arts in the Mirror of Culture", Madaf 2017.Co-author with Guy Moore of the book "Krav Maga - Teaching with Doubt", self-published, 2016"⁠YouTube⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠Website⁠#kungfu #taiwan #coaching #podcast #gongfu #hongyixiang #tangshotao #MartialArts #wushu #kungfuconversations #china #abimoriya

Chaque jour, retrouvez le journal de 19h de la rédaction d'Europe 1 pour faire le tour de l'actu. Distribué par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Chaque jour, retrouvez le journal de 19h de la rédaction d'Europe 1 pour faire le tour de l'actu. Distribué par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

This episode we continue with the Jinshin War.  This episode we follow Prince Oama on his dramatic escape to the east:  From Yoshino he dashed through the mountains, through Iga and over to Ise.  In so doing he secured both Suzuka and Fuwa--areas that would be important chokepoints throughout Japan's history.   For more information, check out our blogpost at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-130 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 130: Jinshin no Ran, Part II:  Gathering Stormclouds.   The soldier on watch was doing his best to keep alert.  The night shift was never pleasant duty, and it was even less pleasant out here in the mountains.  There were plenty of sounds in the night—birds and animals out in the darkness—but rarely was there much actual action.  At least the sky was clear, with only the occasional cloud. Guarding a post station was hardly the worst duty in the world. There was a decent amount of traffic: after all, they were along one of the major routes between Ise and Yamato.  But at night, well, who wanted to try and navigate the mountain roads?  That was a great way to fall into a river and drown, or get lost in the woods, unable to find your way back to civilization. It must have been a shock when he saw a light in the distance.  There were almost always a few fires somewhere in the village, but most of them were out or covered at this time of night, with the exception of the odd torch.  But this was something more.  At first the guard thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.  And then he wondered if it was some kind of mountain spirit—he'd heard of ghost parades that could come and take people in the night.  He shivered, and instinctively checked his own torch to ensure that it was burning well and bright.  Indeed it was. It took him a little time for his eyes to adjust again to the darkness, but now, sure enough, he saw the torches coming—and not just one, many of them, and he could now hear the faint metallic clank of metal on metal.  He then heard a faint sound like a tight rope being suddenly plucked.  It only just started to dawn on him what was happening when the first arrows started to rain down on his position. They were under attack!   Welcome back.  This episode we are continuing with our coverage of the Jinshin no Ran—the Jinshin War of 672—and if you haven't already, I highly recommend you start with episode 129, where we talk about some of the background for what was happening.  That said, let's do a quick recap to bring us up to speed on where we are.  And then we'll dive into an account of an absolutely unbelievable journey, which is impressive for multiple reasons, but mostly for the speed at which it was able to take place. So as you may recall, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, passed away at the end of 671 after months of illness.  After falling ill, the Chronicles tell us that he offered the state to his younger brother, the Crown Prince, Prince Ohoama, but Ohoama was warned that it was a trap, and as such, he turned down the offer.  Instead, he retired from his position to become a monk, and left for Yoshino, taking half of his household with him.  With Ohoama retired, Naka no Oe's son, the 23 year old Prince Ohotomo, took the throne. After Naka no Oe's death, Ohotomo effectively ruled Yamato from the Ohotsu palace in Afumi, running things along with the ministers of the left and right, Soga no Akaye and Nakatomi no Kane, and other high ministers.  Though the Nihon Shoki does not acknowledge it, Ohotomo is thought to have been a formal sovereign, in deed if not in name, at this point.  Much later, he would be given the posthumous name of “Koubun Tennou”. It would seem that Ohotomo and the Afumi court had misgivings about Prince Ohoama's promise to retire from the world and not challenge the throne.  The Nihon Shoki recounts that they began to make subtle preparations for a conflict, including levying men to build Naka no Oe's tomb, but issuing them weapons instead of tools.  They also set up checkpoints along the road from the court in Ohotsu down to Asuka—the main route to where Ohoama was residing in Yoshino.  And then, finally, someone told Ohoama that they were no longer allowing Prince Ohoama's people to cross the Uji bridge to bring him and his household supplies. Prince Ohoama was not going to sit idly by while the Afumi court gathered up enough forces to claim he was doing something treasonous and then march on him in Yoshino.  And so he sent one of his trusted vassals to the east to seek support.  Meanwhile, he himself was making ready to move.  There was just one more thing before setting out:  seeing if he could get posting bells.  This was sparked by the words of one of his advisors, who suggested that they should be careful.  They did not have many soldiers in Yoshino, and they had already sent out a general like Woyori to start raising troops in the East.  At the same time, if the Afumi Court was also maneuvering, it was likely that they would have sent words to the various post stations to bar the roads and prevent any movement. As such, Prince Ohoama decided to send several messengers to ask for Posting Bells, so that Ohoama and his men could make use of the official horses at the various post stations, allowing them to travel much more quickly and freely.  However, it was not clear if such orders had come and, if they had, where the local government officiallys might place their loyalty. Of particular importance was the case of Prince Takasaka, who was in charge of the Okamoto Palace, and thus the governance of the ancient capital. He would be the one to grant posting bells if they were to receive them.  If he provided the bells, then Ohoama and his party could assume they would have little to no trouble making their way East. And so Prince Ohoama sent his evnoys to the Okamoto palace.The messengers requested posting bells, but Prince Takasaka refused to issue them.  This sent a clear message to Prince Ohoama:  the Afumi court had no intention of letting him and his household have free access to the roads, and the local officials in Asuka were not going to provide any support.  In fact, Prince Takasaka now knew that Ohoama planned to travel, and if he wanted to, Takasaka could likely raise troops to try and stop Ohoama from leaving.  At the very least he would no doubt be sending a swift horse to Ohotsu to inform the Afumi court.  Ohoama and his followers would have to hurry if they wanted to do anything. And so, on the 24th of the 6th month, the same day that he got word back about the posting bells,  Prince Ohoama made the decision to move.  He and his entourage left quickly—he didn't even let anyone saddle a horse for him or prepare his carriage.  He just started to head out on foot on a journey to the East – and keep in mind that everything I'm going to describe in the next few minutes happened over the course of one night, truly an epic journey for Ohoama and all of those with him..  The Chronicles lists about 20 men and over ten women who originally set out with Ohoama from Yoshino, including his wife, the Royal Princess Uno no Sarara, daughter of Naka no Oe.  She wasn't walking, however—she followed a little behind in a palanquin, or litter, carried on poles.  I do wonder if those carrying the palanquin are among those mentioned, or were they servants or even enslaved persons who weren't considered worthy of note. The path they traveled wound its way through the mountains.  Streams and rivers had carved channels and valleys into these mountains.  People had settled these areas, and created paths through the wilderness.  Now, the valleys were fairly well populated, with roads connecting the communities that had grown up in the nooks and hollers. These facilitated trade through the mountain communities and between the eastern and western sides of the Kii peninsula, but even still, it was difficult terrain.  Unlike roads in the flat plains, the width of the roads in the mountains would have been constrained by steep mountainsides and the natural twists and turns of the valleys.  There may have been rope or wooden bridges that they had to cross, as streams constantly flow down the hill sides to the river below.  This route would make it much easier to avoid any official Afumi forces that might have been sent out, as those would likely be sticking to the main roads, but there were still government outposts along the way.  If these outposts proved loyal to the Afumi court, they could raise the alarm and send a messenger on horseback, who could likely flee much more quickly than Ohoama's men could follow.  And if Afumi learned that Ohoama was on the move, they could quickly mobilize their forces, secure key strategic points, and Ohoama's mad rush would be for naught.   The path Ohoama chose would lead from Yoshino, through the valleys, up through Iga, and then over to Suzuka, in Ise—modern Mie prefecture.  The journey was long and it wasn't going to be easy, but they needed to move quickly. Speaking of which, since Ohoama was traveling on foot, one of his men, Agata no Inukahi no Ohotomo, gave Prince Ohoama his own horse to ride.  Oh, and in case you are wondering: There are a lot of people named “Ohotomo” in the narrative, not just the Prince, Ohoama's nephew and rival for the throne.  Sorry, it was apparently a somewhat popular name AND it was also a clan, or uji, name as well.  I'll try to distinguish some of them in the podcast blog page. The party hadn't traveled far when Ohoama's own carriage—or possibly a palanquin, like his wife's—showed up for him, so I assume Ohotomo got his horse back, but they were still constrained to the speed of their slowest member, and I doubt that the mountain roads were all that wide and flat—most likely just the opposite. The group journeyed upstream along the Tsuburo river and eventually made it to Aki, in the area of Uda, due east of Sakurai and Mt. Miwa.  Here they were overtaken by two men, known as Ohotomo no Muraji no Makuda and Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo, both hurrying on from the Yoshino Palace. Makuda had been at the Afumi court, but word was starting to spread there that there was going to be some kind of move against Prince Ohoama, so he and his brother, Ohotomo no Fukei, had feigned illness and returned to their home in the Asuka region.  Once there, Makuda had made straightaway for Yoshino, only to find that Ohoama was already on the move.  Ohotomo no Fukei, on the other hand, chose to stay in the area of Asuka and see what he could do there.  He was looking to see what kind of forces he could raise in the ancient capital region.  We'll learn more about him, later. It was also in Aki, apparently, where they met Hashi no Muraji no Mate, who was from the Department of the official rice fields.  Even though he was a government official, he was a supporter of Ohoama and his cause, and so he supplied Ohoama and his people with food for their journey. Just north of the Aki fields they came upon Kammura—thought to be near modern Kaguraoka—where the Yoshino forces conscripted 20 hunters into service, almost doubling their numbers, and now they at least had some weapons with them.  Prince Mino, and presumably his men, also joined forces with Ohoama and his party—their ranks were starting to grow. In Uda, they were no doubt glad of any assistance, and at the government offices in the village of Uda itself, they were also warmly welcomed.  There they found 50 pack-horses that were laden down with rice meant for the hot baths at Ise.  The rice was discarded and Ohoama commandeered the pack animals so that his forces could ride, rather than walk.  Nonetheless, it was still a long way to go.  Indeed, night was approaching by the time they reached Ohono—likely the modern area of Muro-ohono and Ohonoji, along the Uda river.  They didn't want to stop, but it could be treacherous trying to navigate in the mountains in the dark.  What they needed was a light source.  And so we are told that they pulled down some of the fences of nearby houses and created makeshift torches to light their way.  Thus they were able to continue on until they reached the town of Nabari at approximately midnight. Nabari was not quite so friendly.  It was the home of a post-station, which had a duty to report things to the Afumi court.  Ohoama and his men arrived with their torches and in the middle of the night they attacked and set fire to the post station.  One can only imagine how surprised those manning the station must have been.  Presumably Ohoama's party took any horses and provisions, both for their own use and so that they couldn't be used against them.  To those members of the village that were woken up and who came out to see what was going on, Ohoama's entourage proclaimed that Prince Ohoama was heading east and that people should join them.  More specifically we are told that he said that the “Sumera no Mikoto” was on his way to the East Country. I want to pause here a moment, because there are some that say that this was the first use of the term “Sumera no Mikoto”, or, as we more commonly read the characters today, “Tennou”.  At the very least we believe that the term “Tennou” may have first used in this time period—though I do wonder about it being used in this particular instance.  I'll come back to this at the end, but for now, let's get back to the story.  So Ohoama announced to the people that he, the sovereign—for he had declared himself as such—was heading to the Eastern lands, and he invited anyone who wished to join him.  Nobody took him up on his offer, however.  It must have sounded crazy.  Ohoama had swept in at midnight, his forces carrying torches, and had attacked the post station, the symbol of the government in their midst.  I imagine that the people wanted little to nothing to do with any further conflict if they could help it. Continuing on in the darkness, Ohoama and his party came to a river—probably the Nabari River.  The Chronicle refers to it as “Yokokawa”, a term that shows up multiple times, and means something like “side river” and I suspect it was just the name for a river that ran alongside the fields or something similar.  As they were crossing, a dark cloud spread across the night sky for over 10 rods—about 100 feet.  Ohoama kindled a light and took a look at a geomantic rule to determine what it could mean.  This “rule” was possibly a type of stick or even a kind of compass-like device with a square bottom and round top, indicating the heavens and the earth.  He announced to everyone that the cloud was an omen that the country would be divided into two parts but, ultimately, their side would win out. One can only imagine how tired and worn out everyone was at this point, but apparently this urged them onward.  They reached Iga, where once again, they attacked and set fire to the posting station. Now getting through Iga must have had Ohoama's head on a swivel.  After all, Prince Ohotomo's mother was apparently from that region – he was the Iga Royal Prince, after all - so it would be understandable if people were loyal to him.  Fortunately, for Ohoama, he had his local supporters as well.  In fact, Joan Piggot points out in “The Emergence of Japanese Kingship” that Ohoama may have had a surprising amount of support from the various local elites.  Remember that the policies that Naka no Oe and the court had put into place had given power to court appointed officials at the expense of the traditional local elites.  So it may have been that those traditional local elites were more inclined to assist Ohoama against the Afumi Court, while those appointed officials, such as those who were managing the post stations, were more likely to swing the other way, since their positions and their stipends were directly reliant on the court's good graces.  This seems to have been the case in this instance, around Nakayama, in Iga, where we are told that they met with local district governors who had heard that Ohoama was on the move and who had raised several hundred men in support of his cause.  Now their ranks really had grown—compared with the relatively small group that had first set out from Yoshino the previous day, there were now hundreds of men on the march. Ohoama's forces finally arrived at the plain of Tara, or Tarano, by dawn, and with the sun coming over the mountains they briefly stopped for a moment to catch their breath and eat something.  They had just marched through the night—a distance of approximately 70 kilometers, or 43 and a half miles.  That included stops to attack and set fire to two post stations along the way, and much of the journey early on was done on foot.  During that march, their ranks had grown tremendously.  This is an incredible feat, especially with much of it being accomplished at night. Let's also quickly discuss those extra troops that had come to his banner.  Remember that prior to this, Prince Ohoama had sent messengers ahead to Mino and Owari to try and raise forces in those areas.  They had likely traveled these same roadways, and told  any allies they had to prepare.  So while the forces were raised quickly, there were no doubt some logistics that went into it. After a brief rest, the army was back on their feet, heading to Yamaguchi—modern Tsuge city.  Here Ohoama was greeted by his son, Prince Takechi, who had come from Afumi down through Kafuka—modern Kouka, aka Kouga.  He had brought several other men of his own, and presumably soldiers as well. The entire party crossed Mt. Miyama and into Suzuka, in Ise, where they were joined by the provincial governor, Miyake no Muraji no Iwatoko; Deputy Governor, Miwa no Kimi no Kobuto, and the magistrate of the famous hot baths, Tanaka no Omi no Tarumaro, among others.  That same morning, they set a troop of 500 soldiers to guard the pass.  After all, it would do them no good to have a government force suddenly appear behind them.  Also, you may recall that Ohoama's request to his allies in Mino was to take the Fuwa pass, in the north—the area more popularly known today as Sekigahara.  So now, with both the Suzuka and Fuwa passes under Ohoama's control, his forces controlled access to the Eastern countries.  The only other viable route, at least if you didn't want to get lost in the mountains, was to take the road to the north, through Koshi, and that was going to be a slog around or over the Japan Alps. So a garrison was left as a rear guard, but the troops who were not staying to guard the pass continued, turning northwards.  By sunset on the 25th day of the 6th month of 672, they had reached the foot of Kahawa Hill.  Here, Ohoama's consort, Princess Uno no Sarara, asked if they could take a break.  She was not exactly used to this kind of travel, and even riding on a palanquin, she was exhausted and fatigued.  As they looked to the sky, though, it was clear that dark clouds were gathering.  So they cut their rest short and pushed on, hoping to make it to the government offices at Mie—likely meaning modern day Yokkaichi city. Sure enough, as they continued to march, the heavens opened with a thunderstorm pouring down on them.  The entire army was soaked to the bone.  Cold and wet, when they did get to the government center or Mie district, they deliberately set fire to an entire building just so that the troops could try to warm themselves a bit.  Those who had set out from Yoshino had marched over 122km, or 75 miles, including over 700 meters of elevation up and 800 meters down.  Checking a map of the route, it suggests that a person walking it, today, without any breaks, would take around 28 hours to complete the trip, and indeed, Ohoama's took roughly one and a half days.  That includes time for their assaults on the various post stations, and a brief rest at the Tara fields.  Now, granted, they had procured horses for parts of that, and many of the soldiers had not necessarily been there since the beginning, but it is still an incredible feat, when you think about it.  I'm honestly surprised that it doesn't get more of a mention in various historical contexts.  Then again, we are still well before the age of the Samurai, which is the period most martial historians typically examine. So that night, as they were settling in at the Mie government center following their amazing dash across the mountains, word came from forces at Suzuka:  Prince Yamabe and Prince Ishikawa had apparently come to offer their allegiance to Ohoama.  However, as they weren't known to the men, they were held at the Suzuka barrier until someone could verify.  Ohoama sent Michi no Atahe no Masubito to go fetch them and bring them to him. The following morning, Ohoama worshipped towards Amaterasu on the banks of a river in the district of Asake.  Thinking about it, I'm not sure if they meant that he worshipped south, in the direction of Ise Shrine, or if he worshipped east, the direction of the rising sun.  The exact direction doesn't entirely matter, but I think we will come back to this, as it would have consequences later on. Later, Masubito returned from his errand, catching back up to the army, which was continuing on its way.  It turns out that it was not Princes Yamabe and Ishikawa that Masubito had found at Suzuka, but instead  Ohoama's own son, Ohotsu, who had come along to join his father.  I presume he had been traveling under a false name in case he ran into men loyal to the Afumi court.  He was followed by a number of others, including a list of names which I am not going to go over here because it wouldn't mean all that much.  Suffice it to say that the Chroniclers were doing their best to make sure that various families were remembered for what they did. Now just as Prince Ohotsu was joining the main force, Murakami no Woyori arrived with word that 3,000 Mino troops were mobilized and currently blocking the Fuwa Road.  You may recall that Woyori was the one that Ohoama had sent to Mino for just that purpose, scouting out the lay of the land. Ohoama sent Prince Takechi ahead to Fuwa to organize the forces there.  Then he sent two others to mobilize troops along the Tokaido region, and two others were sent into the mountains to levy soldiers from the Tousando region.  As a quick reminder: the Tokaido was the eastern sea highway, while the Tousando, the Eastern Mountain Road, went through the middle of eastern Honshu, through the more mountainous regions.  Together, these two routes would have pulled from the most populous regions of the east. As for Ohoama, he took up residence at the government center in Kuwana, where he spent some time resting for a bit. Now just as Ohoama was building up his forces, so, too, was the Afumi court.  As soon as word made it to the capital that Ohoama was on the move, chaos ensued.  Many people fled the capital, some heading to the East, perhaps to join Ohoama, while others went to hide in the mountains and marshes until all the chaos was over and the dust settled.  The young Prince Ohotomo asked the ministers what he should do, and they recommended that he immediately set out with cavalry to pursue Ohoama and catch him before he could assemble too many troops.  However, he decided not to heed their advice, instead opting to assemble an army of his own, to add to the soldiers that had already been levied.  He sent Ina no Iwasuki, Fumi no Kusuri, and Wosaka no Ohomaro to the East country, while Hodzumi no Momotari, his younger brother, Ihoye, and Mononobe no Hiuga headed to the Yamato capital—which is to say Asuka.  Ohotomo also sent Saheki no Wotoko to Tsukushi and Kusu no Iwate to Kibi, all with orders to levy troops.  He gave Wotoko and Iwate special instructions, since there was some concern that neither Tsukushi nor Kibi would be compliant, as they both had been supported by Ohoama and may feel ties to him.  So if the leaders of either of those areas were to resist, Wotoko and Iwate were authorized to execute them for treason. As Iwasuki, Kusuri, and Ohomaro headed east, they traveled around Lake Biwa and were headed to the Fuwa pass, not knowing that it was already controlled by Ohoama's forces.  Iwasuki, however, was cautious.  He realized that they might be ambushed, and so he held back from the main group.  Sure enough, he was right:  Kusuri and Ohomaro were ambushed and captured, at which point Iwasuki fled, barely escaping. The following day, Prince Takechi sent a note to his father asking him to move closer to Fuwa, so that they could better communicate with the front line.  Ohoama headed out, but left Princess Uno in Kuwana, which was well situated between Fuwa and Suzuka, and was likely far enough from the front lines to ensure that it wouldn't be disrupted by skirmishes at the passes.  As Ohoama then traveled through Wohari, the governor, Chihisakobe no Muraji no Sabichi, also joined him with a force of 20,000 men.  Ohoama had them divided up and set them on roads to various places as needed. Ohoama finally reached Nogami, just on the eastern edge of modern Sekigahara.  This is near where Tokugawa Ieyasu would eventually make his first camp as well, at his fateful battle here just under a thousand years later.  At Nogami, Ohoama would set up his headquarters, Nogami no Miya, or the Nogami Palace.  Meanwhile, Prince Takechi would handle the troops in the main part of the area near the pass, known as Wazami.  As Ohoama reached Nogami, Takechi came to conference with him.  He noted that there had already been an altercation—they had taken prisoners, who claimed that they were actually headed east to raise troops for Ohoama, but given that they didn't know who they were AND that Iwasuki had fled back towards Ohotsu-kyo suggested that this was not exactly the case. Following that incident, and a fair amount of speechifying, Ohoama eventually placed Prince Takechi formally in charge of the army, presenting him the gift of a saddle-horse.  Takechi went back to his camp at Wazami.  That night, a severe thunderstorm broke out.  Ohoama prayed that if the kami favored his case, they would make the storm abate, and immediately the thunder and lightning stopped. The next day, on the 28th, Ohoama traveled over to Wazami to review the troops and check on the military arrangements, before returning back to Nogami.  He likewise went out the following day, issuing commands through Prince Takechi, and then returned again to Nogami. At this point, soldiers were likely on their way from the Eastern provinces and elsewhere.  On the one hand, they wanted to wait and make sure that they had all the troops they needed.  But on the other hand, they didn't want to wait too long.  The Afumi court was likewise building up its forces, and the longer they waited, the greater the chance that they could dig in and entrench themselves.  Something would have to happen, soon. But that something will have to wait for the next episode.    Before we finish, though, I do want to come back to something:  the title “Tenno”, or “Sumera no Mikoto”.  Up to this point, evidence suggests that the term used for the sovereign of Yamato was not “Tennou” as we know it today, but instead was the term “Oho-kimi”.  “Oho-kimi”, or basically the “Big Kimi”—something like the primary lord—was the one lord of lords of Yamato.  But that was probably something based on local concepts of governance.  With the introduction of new ideas of governance, many based on the Han and Tang dynasty models, we see a shift in the terminology. There are poems that come from the era of Naka no Oe—Tenji Tennou—that use terms like “Huang” (皇) and “Di” (帝)—“Kou” and “Tei” in Japanese.  These are imperial terms from the continent.  At some point, however, we see that they use “Tian” (天) and “Huang” (皇).  “Tianhuang” becomes “Tennou” (天皇) when read in Japanese, and it critically utilizes the character “Tian” for Heaven.  Interestingly, this does not appear to be a term that was ever commonly used for rulers in the area of modern China.  I seem to recall that it was used here and there, but not with any frequency.  There is some thought that it may have been pulled from a term for the north star, or pole star, which sometimes used the term, I suspect referring to that star as the Heavenly Ruler—the star that the heavens themselves were focused on. For a variety of reasons, we see a particular emphasis on Heaven, and on Amaterasu, in the decades following 672, and it is thought that this is all connected.  And so it is generally from some time here, in the late 7th century, that we can probably start to refer to the sovereigns as “Tennou”. Although, it is unclear to me if the authors of the Nihon Shoki pronounced it like this or not, later glosses given for the characters in Japanese is “Sumera no Mikoto”, the kun'yomi, or Japanese reading.  The problem is that the Nihon Shoki projects this term back to the very beginning of the narrative, with “Jimmu Tennou” being the first.  However, we have some evidence that the earlier term was, as as I said before, “Ohokimi”.  For many years, there was an idea that the term “Sumera no Mikoto” first appeared in the era of Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, probably because that is when Buddhism and continental studies really seem to kick off.  However, there really is no evidence of its use then, and it seems that more scholars today place its use in the late 7th or early 8th century. So there is the possibility that this title was first used by Ohoama, as some claim, when he declared that the “Sumera no Mikoto” or “Tennou” was heading to the Eastern countries.  Of course, that could also just be dramatic license by the Chroniclers, who were less concerned with what, exactly, he said and more concerned with the meaning of it all.  We've also known them to swap out older terms for those in use in the 8th century, updating the narrative. Regardless, I think that about this time we can start to refer to the sovereigns of Yamato—and eventually Japan, or Nihon, another somewhat controversial term—as “Tennou”, or “Sumera no Mikoto”, from about this period.  I'll probably still use the term “sovereign” in general, and I'll try to avoid the term “imperial” for anything prior to the 19th century, when it became a standard English translation.  After all, Empires were the rage—Chinese, Ottoman, British, Austrian, French, Spanish, you name it.  Everyone had an empire, and so Japan, following that model, must also have been an “empire”.  Even today, it is officially the “Imperial Household” and that is the official translation. However, I want to be cautious about using that translation too early, however.  The institution of “Tennou”, while modeled on the Tang dynasty, took on its own character.  As such, I think that it is best to avoid the term for now, because it really was its own thing, and I don't want to conflate too many foreign concepts of “emperor” with the idea of the Japanese ruler. As for the term “Sumera no Mikoto”—it does not appear to me that the etymology of this term is clearly known.  One explanation is that “Sumera” is related to the word “Suberu”, to rule.  “Sumera” is also defined as meaning something precious, though I'm not sure if that meaning existed before its use to refer to the sovereign.  “Mikoto” is simply an honorific referring to the sovereign, meaning “royal” or “imperial”.  I suspect that the term “Tennou” came over first, and later it became glossed as “Sumera no Mikoto”, which may have been an earlier term, but we don't have any clear evidence.  Variations do appear in the Man'yoshu, the collection of ancient poems, so the concept was clearly around by the 8th century. Anyway, I think that's enough.  We'll probably talk about it more when we get to the rise of the worship of Amaterasu.  Until then, let's continue with our series on the Jinshin War. Next episode we will kick off with some of the actual fighting and campaigns in Afumi, Iga, and in Yamato.  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.

SummaryIn this episode of the WatchRolling Podcast, Jason interviews Huiy Tang of RZE Watches, discussing the brand's ethos of creating durable, adventure-ready titanium watches. They explore the intersection of watches and everyday carry (EDC), the importance of community engagement, and the brand's commitment to sustainability. Huiy shares insights into the design philosophy behind RZE watches, emphasizing the goal of creating timepieces that last a lifetime. The conversation also touches on the evolution of RZE from its crowdfunding roots to its current identity, and the aspirations for the brand's future.Links (Not Affiliate):www.rzewatches.comInstagram - @rzewatchesFacebook Group - RZE Basecamp - https://www.facebook.com/groups/241404224021358 

Alan sits down with Steph Tang, the co-founder of Wallaby, a company that has developed a therapeutic weighted blanket specifically for dental and healthcare settings. Steph shares her personal experience as a dental patient which sparked the idea for the Wallaby. She explains the science behind deep pressure stimulation and how the Wallaby helps to calm the nervous system, reduce anxiety, and create a more relaxing experience for patients. Steph and Alan also discuss the practical applications of the Wallaby in a dental practice, including its durable, medical-grade, and easy-to-disinfect material, as well as its potential to reduce the need for other sedation options! Some links from the show: Wallaby website Wallaby Instagram Join the Very Dental Facebook group using the password "Gary," "Timmerman," Hornbrook" or "McWethy," "Papa Randy" or "Lipscomb!" The Very Dental Podcast network is and will remain free to download. If you'd like to support the shows you love at Very Dental then show a little love to the people that support us! -- Crazy Dental has everything you need from cotton rolls to equipment and everything in between and the best prices you'll find anywhere! If you head over to verydentalpodcast.com/crazy and use coupon code “VERYDENTAL10” you'll get another 10% off your order! Go save yourself some money and support the show all at the same time! -- The Wonderist Agency is basically a one stop shop for marketing your practice and your brand. From logo redesign to a full service marketing plan, the folks at Wonderist have you covered! Go check them out at verydentalpodcast.com/wonderist! -- Enova Illumination makes the very best in loupes and headlights, including their new ergonomic angled prism loupes! They also distribute loupe mounted cameras and even the amazing line of Zumax microscopes! If you want to help out the podcast while upping your magnification and headlight game, you need to head over to verydentalpodcast.com/enova to see their whole line of products! -- CAD-Ray offers the best service on a wide variety of digital scanners, printers, mills and even  their very own browser based design software, Clinux! CAD-Ray has been a huge supporter of the Very Dental Podcast Network and I can tell you that you'll get no better service on everything digital dentistry than the folks from CAD-Ray. Go check them out at verydentalpodcast.com/CADRay!

Justin Tang is a religious trauma coach, a formercharismatic evangelical who helps others heal from spiritual wounds throughintegrative trauma-informed methods. Drawing from his own journey ofdeconstruction which he describes in this episode, he helps guide clients fromfear and guilt to authenticity. Sprinkled throughout our conversation arepractical tips for emotional healing. If you know anyone who has suffered fromreligious guilt, religious OCD, fear and trauma due to their religious beliefs,please share this conversation with them.Justin's facebook page: ⁠Facebook⁠YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@iwasjustintrance/To connect with Pooja: www.poojachilukuri.com

In this episode Randel and Owen talk with Kung Fu Coach and Teacher Abi Moriya about training in Taiwan in the 80's, Tang Sho Tao, Acupuncture and Hong Yi Xiang.Form his Web Site: "Martial artist, movement and Chinese medicine. One of the pioneers of Chinese and Filipino martial arts teachers in Israel. In his youth, in 1987, he embarked on a study trip following the documentary series "The Way of the Warrior," which ended with the late teacher Hong Yi-Shiang in Taiwan. My father balances the way of the warrior with the way of the healer: he is an expert in the martial art of Xingyi Chuan, various Chinese weapons, as well as the Filipino martial art of Serada Eskrima.In the field of health care, my father teaches Qigong and Tai Chi and trains instructors. He practices Chinese medicine with an emphasis on acupuncture, moxibustion and tui-na, as well as shiatsu.Head of the Martial Arts Department at the Nat Holman School for Instructors and Trainers, Wingate Institute.Author of the book "Bright Tiger, Dark Dragon: Chinese Martial Arts in the Mirror of Culture", Madaf 2017.Co-author with Guy Moore of the book "Krav Maga - Teaching with Doubt", self-published, 2016"YouTubeInstagramWebsite#kungfu #taiwan #coaching #podcast #gongfu #hongyixiang #tangshotao #MartialArts #wushu #kungfuconversations #china #abimoriya

In this episode Sidney kvetches about getting old, Uel kvetches about advertisements on social media and we all learn which fiber powder works least bad in wine for some reason.  

Strap in—literally—as we blast off into the most unhinged love triangle NASA ever produced. This week, we're digging deep into the totally real, totally insane story of astronaut Lisa Nowak, a brilliant Navy captain who traded in her space boots for adult diapers, pepper spray, and a cross-country stalking mission from hell. Fueled by jealousy, heartbreak, and maybe a little Tang-fueled psychosis, Lisa took a 900-mile bathroom-free road trip to confront her romantic rival... and ended up making mission control rethink their hiring process.

ByteDance is a global technology company operating a wide range of content platforms around the world, and is best known for creating TikTok. The company operates at a massive scale, which naturally presents challenges in ensuring performance and stability across its data centers. It has over a million servers running containerized applications, and this required The post ByteDance's Container Networking Stack with Chen Tang appeared first on Software Engineering Daily.

The sovereign, Naka no Oe is dead, and with his death comes an all too familiar tradition: different factions warring for the throne.  And this time it isn't just something we are guessing at, we get a front row seat to the show, with enough details to fill several episodes.  In Part I we will look at what kicked off the war--or at least what we know--and discuss a few of the theories.  We will also go over some of the events that happened while Prince Otomo was the head of state. For more, check out our podcast webpage at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-129 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 129:   The Jinshin no Ran, Part I: Prologue to War. The long bridge at Uji arched over the river, like a wooden rainbow.  Former Crown Prince Ohoama, his head shaved and wearing the garments of a monk, was carried over the bridge.   This was no simple priestly procession, however: he was accompanied by his entire household. Some on foot, and some on horseback.  Even the kesa, once meant to be a symbol of priestly humility and simplicity, cried out that this was a man of wealth and power and status. The procession made its way across the bridge, headed south, to the ancient Yamato capital and then on to the mountain passes beyond, where the cherry trees would bloom, come the spring.  At the north end of the bridge, the high ministers and nobility of Yamato watched them go.  The ministers of the Left and the Right stood in the cold, winter air, wrapped in their warmest clothing, but it wasn't just the weather that was causing a chill.  To some, this seemed a miracle—a clear sign that the succession would now be an easy one, with Ohoama taking himself off the board.  But to others, they weren't so sure. While many of Yamato's traditions had evolved or changed—or even been outright replaced by continental ideas—many still remembered how things had been.  The bloody politics and power struggles that often accompanied any transition of power.  Naka no Oe had risen to power in just such a fashion.  Now that he was not long for this world, would his legacy be any less violent? Greetings, everyone, and welcome back.  Last episode we took you through the official reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou.  Granted, this reign was only from 668 to 671, but Naka no Oe had already been putting his stamp on the state for over 33 years.  Now, however, he was dead, as were those who had helped him implement his enormous changes, and with his death there was the question:  Who would now ascend to the throne? And that question brings us to today's topic:  The Jinshin no Ran, also known as the Jinshin War.  This was a succession dispute that occurred in the year 672 following the death of Naka no Oe, between Naka no Oe's son Ohotomo and his brother Ohoama.  The name, “Jinshin”, is formed much as the name of the “Isshi” incident, using the sinified Japanese reading of the sexagenary cycle characters used for the year.  672 was a “Mizu-no-e Saru” year, or what we today might just call a “Water Monkey” year.  Read together, these characters can be pronounced “Jinshin”, hence “Jinshin no Ran”. Quick digression:  That word “Ran”, indicating a war or similar martial disturbance, is the same character used as the title of the famous Kurosawa film that took Shakespear's King Lear story and set it in the Warring States period of Japan.  If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it—definitely a classic.  Not exactly relevant here, but still worth it. But back to the Jinshin War: we're going to likely spend a few episodes on this, not just because it is important, but also because the record is fairly detailed, and I'd like to use it to really help us get an idea of what was going on.  This episode we'll look at the broad picture: some of the causes of the war and where things were, generally speaking, just before the major campaigns kicked off. Of course, this isn't the first succession dispute in the Chronicles, but this one is incredibly detailed, and especially importantbecause it goes to the heart of the legitimacy of the royal family—the imperial family—for at least the next century.  To a certain extent, I would also suggest that it was exactly the kind of thing that the Nihon Shoki was created to address: an official history as propaganda for the Japanese court, telling  the court approved story of the royal family and providing justification as to why they are in power.  Along the way it also props up the lineages of other elites. So let's go over the basic story of the conflict before we get into the details.  I know, I know: spoilers.  But I think it will help to have context for what we are talking about right now.  To try to summarize: Ohoama, Naka no Oe's brother, is mentioned as the Crown Prince throughout Naka no Oe's reign, but just before Naka no Oe's death, Ohoama declined the position and went to Yoshino to become a Buddhist monk.  This allowed Naka no Oe's son, Prince Ohotomo, the current Dajo Daijin, or head of the council of state, to run the government and eventually take the throne.  However, shortly into Prince Ohotomo's reign, Ohoama raised an army and fought with Ohotomo and the court at Ohotsu-kyo, known as the Afumi court.  After a couple of months of intense fighting, Ohoama defeated the Afumi forces and Ohotomo.  Ohoama would go on to take the throne, becoming known as Temmu Tennou.  He is credited with starting the projects that culminated in the creation of the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. On the surface, this could easily look like a simple case of usurpation—especially if you come from a cultural background where sons are expected to inherit from their fathers, as is common in many European monarchies.  However, we have to remind ourselves that this isn't Europe.  For centuries, succession in Yamato had been much more chaotic than that.  Often succession went not to a son or daughter, but first to a brother, and even then it didn't necessarily go to the oldest brother, or to the oldest child.  Even designating an heir wasn't a guarantee that, after a ruler's death, someone else wouldn't come along and change things by force. Of course, the Nihon Shoki appears to lay out various rules for succession.  In most cases, your mother has to be descended—however distantly—from a previous sovereign.  Also, inheritance typically doesn't come at the attainment of adulthood.  It isn't like someone turns 20 and they are suddenly eligible.  We see plenty of reigns that are passed off as regencies—that is, the sovereign is legally just a caretaker for the throne until the true heir comes of age.  Perhaps the most famous of these is Okinaga Tarashi Hime, aka Jingu Tenno, who supposedly held the throne from the death of her husband until their son, Homuda Wake, aka Ojin Tenno, was of age.  But it isn't like she just abdicated.  In fact, I don't think we've seen a single example where a regent has abdicated the throne.  The only real abdication that we see is in 645, when Takara Hime, known as Kogyoku Tenno during her first reign, abdicated after the Isshi Incident.  There are also plenty of examples of possible claimants to the throne who certainly seem like they may have been supremely qualified for the position who end up dying or being killed, sometimes with the specific claim that they were trying to usurp the throne.  The most recent example is Furubito no Oe, who likely was in line to inherit the throne from Takara Hime prior to the Isshi Incident.  It doesn't help that the Chronicle often only calls people by their titles:  so it is the “Crown Prince” who does such and such, or it is “the sovereign”—without explicitly naming who that person is.  Of course, this is sometimes made clear by context, but that can't always be relied upon. This is compounded by the fact that at this time, Wa cultural norms were being overwritten by continental concepts of propriety and morality, with the growth of reading and continental works introducing many people to the discourses of Confucius and others.  Borrowing governmental structures and ideas from a Confucian state meant that Confucian ideals would get pulled along as well, even if those structures and ideas weren't strictly Confucian.  An example is the importance of filial piety, and so-called “Proper” relationships between people.  In some cases Confucian or even Buddhist concepts were used to explain and rationalize existing traditions, and in others they were used to provide a counter-narrative.  Thus the world described by the Nihon Shoki is one that was no doubt much more comprehensible to an 8th century member of court than to someone from the 3rd. I say all that so that we can keep an eye out for the Chroniclers' bias and perhaps give some thought to what might not have gotten written down. The creation of the Ritsuryo state was the culmination of over 33 years of work.  During that time, the Yamato court had centralized their power and control.  The Chronicles, looking back at the end of the process, report this as a good thing, and it is hard to argue that these reforms truly did lead to the country of Japan as we know it, today.  However, it probably wasn't all lollipops and rainbows.   The centralization of authority received pushback, and we see the center flexing its military might as well as legal and moral authority.  The new Ritsuryo state claimed a much greater control over land and resources than any previous government had done or  been able to do.  Even if the 5th century sovereign Wakatakeru no Ohokimi, aka Yuryaku Tenno, had people at his court from Kyushu to Kanto, influence isn't the same as control.  Up until the Ritsuryo reforms, it appears that local administrators had a lot of leeway in terms of what happened in their local domains.  After all, what could Yamato do about it?  As long as “taxes” were paid, then there was no reason for Yamato to otherwise interfere with local events, and even if there were, who would they get to enforce their will? But In the Ritsuryo system, at least conceptually, the State had local governors who reported back to the central authority.  These governors  were set apart from the Kuni no Miyatsuko, the traditional local authority, and their income was tied to the court. Moreover, this system wasn't just tradition and the whims of the elites: it was codified in written laws and punishments.  In fact, the Record of the Fujiwara—the Toushi Kaden—claims that the entire legal code was written down in 668 by their patriarch, Nakatomi no Kamatari, prior to his death.  There are also other references to this compilation, known to us as the “Oumi Code”, referencing the region that the court had moved to:  Afumi, around Lake Biwa.  Unfortunately, we don't have any extant copies of what, exactly, the Code said, other than various laws explicitly noted in the Nihon Shoki.  Still, we can assume that it was probably similar to later codes, which would have been using the Oumi code as a base from which to work from. The new authority for this code descended from the throne, based on continental and even Confucian concepts of the State.  And Naka no Oe had no doubt been the one to help maintain continuity over the past three decades.  Now he was dead, so what came next? Well based on what we have in the Nihon Shoki, that should be obvious:  His brother, the Crown Prince, Ohoama, would take the throne, wouldn't he?  After all, he was the designated Crown Prince, and he had been in that role, promulgating orders, and otherwise acting as we might expect, at least since Naka no Oe had given up the position. And yet, it seems there was some doubt.  After all, while a brother—or sister—inheriting the throne was hardly unheard of, Naka no Oe did have children of his own.  Most importantly, there was his son, Prince Ohotomo.  Ohotomo was only about 23 years old, but he had been made the Dajoudaijin, the head of the Council of State, which one would think would put him in a position of tremendous authority. Naka no Oe apparently had some inkling that there could be a succession dispute upon his death.  And so, two months after he had taken ill, as it became painfully obvious that he might not recover, he called in his brother, Crown Prince Ohoama, and he told him clearly that it was his intention to have his brother succeed him on the throne. Before going much further, I would note that the entries in the Nihon Shoki that speak to this incident are spread across two different books in that chronicle.  Part of it takes part in the chronicle of Tenji Tennou (Naka no Oe), but then the reign of Temmu Tennou (Ohoama) is actually broken up into two books, the first of which is often considered the history of the Jinshin Ran, while the second is really Temmu's reign.  And in some cases we get slightly different versions of the same event.    The Nihon Shoki was written less than 50 years after the events being discussed, so likely by people who had actual memory of what happened, it was also propaganda for the regime in power at the time.  So as we read through the events, we have to be critical about our source and what it is telling us. To that end, I'll mostly start out with the narrative as it appears in the Nihon Shoki, and then we can look back and see what else might be going on if we make some assumptions that the Chroniclers may not be the most reliable of narrators for these events. Anyway, getting back to the story as we have it in the Nihon Shoki:  So the person sent to fetch Prince Ohoama to come see his brother, the sovereign, was a man by the name of Soga no Yasumaru.  And Yasumaru brought not only the summons, but a warning, as well.  He told Prince Ohoama to “think before you speak”.  This suggested to Ohoama that there was some kind of plot afoot. And lest we forget, for all that Naka no Oe is often put up on a pedestal for his role in the Taika reforms and founding the nation—even the posthumous name they gave him was the “Sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom”—that pedestal he stands on is covered in blood.  Naka no Oe's political career starts with the brazen murder of Soga no Iruka in full view of all the gathered nobility, and is immediately followed with him marshalling forces against Soga no Emishi, who set fire to his own house rather than surrender. And then, shortly into the Taika period, Naka no Oe had his own brother, Furubito no Oe, killed so that he wouldn't be a threat.  And later, when he just heard a rumor that Soga no Ishikawa no Maro—his father-in-law, Prime Minister of the Right, and co-conspirator—was having treasonous thoughts, he gathered up forces to have him and his family murdered. And though it may have been a bit less bloody, let's not forget his apparent falling out with his uncle, Karu, where he left the giant palace complex at Naniwa and took the entire royal family to Asuka against his uncle, the sovereign's, wishes. Add to that the note from the Fujiwara family records, the Toushi Kaden, about the party at the “shore pavilion” where Ohoama spiked a spear through a plank of wood which rattled Naka no Oe enough that he was contemplating having him taken out right there.  According to that account, it was only the intervention of Nakatomi no Kamatari that saved Ohoama's life.  Even if it weren't true, it likely illustrates something about how their relationship was viewed by others. Given all of that, I think we can understand how Ohoama might not be entirely trusting of his older brother's intentions.  So when that same brother offered him control of the government, Ohoama was suspicious.  Perhaps it was because he was already the Crown Prince, the expected heir, so why would Naka no Oe be offering him the throne?  Perhaps it was some kind of test of his loyalty? And so Prince Ohoama declined.  He claimed that he had always had bad health, and probably wouldn't be a good choice.  Instead, he put forward that the Queen, Yamatobime, should be given charge, and that Naka no Oe's son, Prince Ohotomo, should be installed as the Crown Prince—the new successor to the throne.  Furthermore, to demonstrate his resolve, he asked to be allowed to renounce the world and become a monk. Indeed, immediately after the audience with his brother, Prince Ohoama went to the Buddhist hall in the palace itself and had his head shaved and took holy orders.  He even gave up any private weapons that he might have—likely meaning not just his personal weapons, but any private forces that might be under his command.  The sovereign himself sent his brother a kesa or clerical garment, apparently approving of—or at least accepting—his decision. Two days later, Prince Ohoama went back to his brother and asked to be allowed to leave for Yoshino to go and practice Buddhism there.  He was given permission and he headed out.  The ministers of the left and right, that is Soga no Akae and Nakatomi no Kane, along with Soga no Hatayasu, a “Dainagon” or Chief Counselor, and others, all traveled with him all the way to Uji, where they saw him off.  By evening he had made it as far as the Shima Palace, which is assumed to have been in Asuka—possibly at or near the site of the old Soga residence.  The following day he was in Yoshino. Arriving at Yoshino with his household, Prince Ohoama gave his servants a choice—those who wished could take orders and stay with him in Yoshino.  Those with ambitions at the court, though, were allowed to return back to Ohotsu, presumably going to work for another family.  At first, none of them wanted to leave his side, but he beseeched them a second time, and half of them decided to stay and become monks with him while half of them left, returning to the court. As we mentioned earlier, another royal prince—and possibly crown prince—had taken a similar option back in the year 645.  That was Prince Furubito no Oe, half-brother to Naka no Oe and Ohoama.  We talked about that back in episode 109.  As with that time, taking Buddhist orders and retiring from the world was meant to demonstrate that the individual was renouncing any claims on the throne and was no longer a threat to the succession. The Nihon Shoki notes, though, that as Prince Ohoama was leaving Uji, some commented that it was like the saying: “Give a tiger wings and let him go.”  The first part of that is no doubt referencing a saying still used in Mandarin, today:  “Rúhǔtiānyì” or “Yǔhǔtiānyì, meaning to “add wings to a tiger”—in other words to take something strong and make it even more powerful.  In this case, the choice to renounce the succession and leave court made Ohoama more powerful and then set him free to do what he wanted. There is a lot of speculation around what actually happened.  Prince Ohotomo had only recently come of age and been given the important position of Dajo Daijin.  Still, he was also only 23 years old.  Now, granted, Naka no Oe hadn't been much older, himself, when he instigated the Isshi Incident, but most sovereigns aren't mentioned as having come to the throne themselves until they were maybe 30 years old or more.  Still, there is at least one theory that suggests that Naka no Oe wanted to have his brother, Ohoama, step aside and let Ohotomo take the throne.  According to that theory, his request for Ohoama to succeed him as ruler eas a ruse to get Ohoama to admit his own ambition, which Naka no Oe could then use as a pretext to get rid of his brother. There is another theory that Naka no Oe wanted Ohoama to step in as effectively regent:  Ohoama would rule, but Ohotomo would then inherit after him. Ohoama's counterproposal is intriguing.  He suggested that the affairs of state should be given to Yamato-bime, Naka no Oe's queen, and that she should rule as regent until Ohotomo was ready.  Of course, we have examples of something like this, most recently from the previous reign.  Takara Hime came to the throne, originally, because her husband, who was the sovereign, passed away and their children were not yet of age to take the throne.  However, there is something interesting, here in the relationship between Yamato Bime and Ohotomo.  Because while Yamato Bime was the queen, and daughter, herself, of Furubito no Oe, Ohotomo was not clearly of the proper parentage.  He was not Yamato Bime's son – she had no children herself - , but  his mother was simply a “palace woman” named “Iga no Uneme no Yakako”.  This suggests that she was an uneme from Iga named Yakako, and we are given no details about her parentage.    She is also listed as the last of Naka no Oe's consorts, suggesting to the reader that she was the lowest in status. For this reason Ohotomo is known as the Iga Royal Prince, Iga no Miko. Of course, there are plenty of reasons why the Chroniclers might not want to give any glory to Prince Ohotomo or his mother.  After all, the story works out best if Ohoama should have just been the sovereign all along.  And this could all be technically true—the best kind of true—while also omitting key details so that the reader draws a certain inference.  The Chroniclers were pulling from lots of different sources, and you didn't have to do a lot of changing things when you could just not put them in in the first place.  In other cases we know that they changed the records, because we see them using anachronistic language that doesn't make sense if drawn from a contemporary record. And so we have at least a couple of theories of what might be going on here, beyond just the straight narrative.   One idea is that Naka no Oe wanted Ohotomo to inherit all along, and perhaps he thought Ohoama could be a regent to help him out once Naka no Oe passed away.  Or maybe he just wanted Ohoama out of the way.  There is also the theory that the Nihon Shoki is, in fact, correct, that Naka no Oe wanted to give the state to Ohoama, but the latter refused, either misunderstanding Naka no Oe's intentions or perhaps gauging the feeling at court—perhaps it wasn't Naka no Oe that Ohoama was worried about, but rather some of the high nobles and officials?   It is probably telling that Ohoama's reported solution was to have Yamato-bime act as regent, with Ohotomo eventually inheriting. Whatever the actual reason, Ohoama declined Ohoama headed off to self-imposed exile in Yoshino. Meanwhile, back in Afumi in the Ohotsu capital, Ohotsu-kyo, Ohotomo was now the de facto Crown Prince.  We are told that on the 23rd day of the 11th month of 671 he took his place in front of the embroidery figure of Buddha in the Western Hall of the Dairi, the royal quarters of the Ohotsu Palace.  He was attended by the Minister of the Left, Soga no Akaye, the Minister of the Right, Nakatomi no Kane, as well as Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi.  Taking up an incense burner, Ohotomo made a vow that the six of them would obey the sovereign's commands, lest they be punished by the various Buddhist and local deities. These five ministers, along with Ohotomo, are going to show up again and again.   Moving forward, they would manage the government, and would be generally referred to as the Afumi court. And it is clear that the Chroniclers laid the blame for anything that might happen at their feet. The Afumi court would continue court business as usual, and they were immediately thrown into the thick of it.  For instance, they were likely the ones to entertain the Tang envoys that arrived that same month.  You see, the priest Douku (or possibly “Doubun”), along with Tsukushi no Kimi no Satsuyama, Karashima no Suguri no Sasa, and Nunoshi no Obito no Iwa, had finally made it back from their journey to the mainland.  They brought with them Guo Wucong along with an embassy from the Tang court that numbered approximately 600 members, as well as ambassador Sathek Sonteung, of Silla, with his own embassy of about 1400 people. This enormous entourage sailed in 47 ships, and they had anchored at the island of Hijishima.   The Governor of Tsushima, responsible for being the first line of met with them.  Given then number fo ships, they didn't want it to look like it was a hostile invasion, so the governor sent a letter to  Prince Kurikuma, the viceroy of Tsukushi, to let him know what was happening.  Prince Kurikuma had them send Doubun and others ahead to the capital, so that they could let the court know that a massive embassy had arrived, and to prepare the way for them. However, with the sovereign in extremely poor health, and the court otherwise preoccupied with preparations for what might come next, , they kept the embassy at Tsukushi, for the time being.  We are told that that they sent presents on the 29th for the king of Silla, but no indication of them being brought to the court. Enormous foreign embassies aside, the Afumi court had plenty to deal with close to home.  It didn't help that the day after Ohotomo and the ministers had gathered to make their oaths, a fire broke out in the Ohotsu palace, apparently originating with the third storehouse of the treasury.    Several days later, the five ministers, attending the Crown Prince, Ohotomo, made oaths of loyalty in the presence of Naka no Oe, whose condition was only growing worse.  And four days later, on the third day of the fourth month, Naka no Oe passed away.  He was then temporarily interred in what is referred to as the “New Palace”. And contrary to what Ohoama had suggested, there is no indication that Queen Yamato-bime was installed as any kind of regent.  Instead it seems as if Ohotomo was just jumping in and taking the reins.  Granted, he also had the Council of State to lean on, so there's that.  The Chronicles are pretty quiet for a couple of months after Naka no Oe's death, and then we are told that Adzumi no Muraji no Inashiki was sent to Tsukushi to let the Tang ambassador Guo Wucong know the news.  We are told that on the 18th day of the 3rd month, Guo Wucong, I presume having made it to Ohotsu, publicly mourned the late sovereign.  Three days later, on the 21st, he made obeisance at the court, presumably to Ohotomo, and offered up a box with a letter from the Tang emperor and various presents in token of goodwill for the sovereign of Yamato.  A couple of months later, the Afumi court returned the favor, presenting armor, bows, and arrows as well as cloth, floss, and silk.  Later in that same 5th month, Guo Wucong and his people departed for the continent. And here is where we hit one of the big questions of this whole thing:  Had Ohotomo been formally invested as sovereign, yet?  We clearly see that he had his father's ministers on his side, and they were running things.  Then again, it took years after Takara Hime's death before Naka no Oe, himself, formally stepped up. It is quite possible that Ohotomo was not yet invested, and perhaps that was, in part, because there was another person with a claim who was still alive.  It is hard to say. What we do know is that the consensus opinion for centuries was that Ohotomo was never formally invested as sovereign.  He is certainly seen as having inherited the governance of the kingdom, but he was never considered one of the official sovereigns.  That all changed in relatively recent times.  In fact, it wasn't until 1870, the early years of the Meiji period, that Prince Ohotomo was given a posthumous title and regnal name:  Koubun Tennou.  Today, the Imperial Household Agency and some historians consider Ohotomo to have been an official sovereign, but that isn't everyone.  If he was, though, much what we see would have been happening at his court. That same month that Guo Wucong departed, Prince Ohoama got wind that something hinky was afoot.  Ohoama was residing as a monk in Yoshino, but by all accounts he still had half of his household staff, his wives, and family, all with him.  Also, as the former Crown Prince, he clearly had friends and allies.  After all, he was still a member of the royal household. And so it was in the 5th month that he heard from one Yenewi no Muraji no Wogimi that there was something amiss.  For one thing, the Afumi court had called up laborers to build the tomb for Naka no Oe, but word was that they had issued those so-called laborers with weapons rather than tools.  Wogimi seemed worried that they were preparing to do something about Ohoama.  After all, even though he had theoretically retired from the world, as long as he was alive, he still had a claim on the throne, similar to the problem of Prince Furubito no Oe back in 645. Someone else told Ohoama that they noticed pickets were being set up in various places between the Afumi and Yamato—another sign that the Afumi court was apparently expecting some kind of military action.  Furthermore, the guards at the Uji bridge were no longer allowing supplies bound for Yoshino and Ohoama's household. It seemed clear that something was up, and so Ohoama made an announcement:  while he had renounced the royal dignity and retired from the world, it was only because of his poor health and a desire to live a long and happy life.  If that life was being threatened by forces outside of his control, then why would he let himself be taken quietly? From that point, he seems to have started plotting and gathering  forces of his own, in case things came to a head.  Of course, there are those who suggest that, in truth, Ohoama had been plotting and raising forces ever since he started his exile in Yoshino—or at least since his father passed away.  Indeed, once things kick off, you'll notice how quickly people are levying troops, as if spontaneously deciding to support Ohoama's cause, and I would suggest that there was probably lot of back and forth that we just don't see because it was never recorded. Things reached a tipping point on the 22nd day of the 6th month.  That is when Ohoama gave orders to three of his vassals, Murakami no Muraji no Woyori, Wanibe no Omi no Kimide, and Muketsu no Kimi no Hiro.  He claimed that the Afumi Court was plotting against him, so he asked his vassals to go to the land of Mino—modern Gifu prefecture—and to reach out to Oho no Omi no Honeji, the governor of the Ahachima district hot springs—now the area of Anpachi.  Honeji was to levy soldiers and set them out on the Fuwa road—this was the road from Mino to Afumi, and was one of the few ways in and out of Afumi region. As we've mentioned in the past, the benefit of Ohotsu-kyo was its naturally defended position.  Lake Biwa is surrounded on all sides by mountains, and there were only a few ways in and out.  The Fuwa Pass is at the edge of a location that you may have heard of: today we know that region as Sekigahara.  That is because it was one of several seki, or barriers, set up to help check movements across the archipelago.  To the south, one could also use the Suzuka pass, where there would likewise be set up the Suzuka no Seki, or Suzuka barrier.  Suzuka was accessible from Afumi via the regions of Koga and Iga.  There was also the Afusaka no Seki, between Afumi and the area of modern Kyoto, and the Arachi no Seki, between Afumi and Tsuruga, on the Japan Sea—where many of the Goguryeo missions had arrived. Of these, the Afusaka barrier and the Fuwa barrier were probably the most well known and most heavily traveled.  Control of the Fuwa pass would be critical throughout Japan's history, controlling much of the traffic between eastern and western Japan.  Hence why, over 900 years later, another fight would come to a head here, as the battle of Sekigahara would see Tokugawa Ieyasu's eastern forces defeating the western army of Ishida Mitsunari.  That battle is seen as a decisive victory that birthed the Tokugawa shogunate, who would rule Japan for the next 250 years. So for Ohoama, having Honeji and his men take control of the Fuwa barrier was critical, as it would limit the Afumi court's ability to levy forces in the eastern provinces. A few days later, Ohoama was himself about to move out,  but his advisors stopped him.  They were worried about heading east without an army, yet.  Ohoama agreed, and he wished that he hadn't sent Woyori out just yet—Woyori was someone he trusted, militarily.  Instead, however, he had to make do.  And so he had Ohokida no Kimi no Yesaka, Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo, and Afu no Omi no Shima go to Prince Takasaka, who was in charge of the Wokamoto Palace in Asuka, and apply for posting bells—the tokens that would allow him and others use the various official post stations to supply them with provisions as they traveled.  Speaking of this palace,  although the court had moved to Ohotsu, a palace was maintained in Asuka.  After all, this was still seen as the “ancient capital” and the home to a lot of powerful families, so it makes sense that the royal family kept the palace in working order.  It also appears to have functioned as the local government headquarters for the region, with Prince Takasaka, or Takasaka no Ou, at its head. Asking for the posting bells was a test by Ohoama.  If he received them, then great, it would give him the ability to travel to the east, where he could presumably raise troops to protect himself.  However, if Prince Takasaka refused, then that would be a sign that the Afumi government had, indeed, sent word that Ohoama was not supposed to go anywhere.  If that was to happen, then Afu no Shima would return to Yoshino to let Ohoama know, while Ohokida no Yesaka would go to Afumi to tell Ohoama's sons, Prince Takechi and Prince Ohotsu, to make haste and meet him in Ise. Sure enough, Prince Takasaka refused the posting bells, and so, on the 24th of the 6th month, Prince Ohoama made the decision to move.  They left quickly—he didn't even let anyone saddle a horse for him or prepare his carriage.  He just started to head out on foot on a journey to the East. That journey would set in motion the coming conflagration.  Ohoama and his allies would quickly gather their forces in an incredibly short period of time, starting with a daring trek across the mountainous path between Yoshino and the land of Ise.  At the same time, the Afumi court would levy their own forces.  It was now a race for people and positions.  And to see how that race progressed, I'll ask you to tune in next episode, when we take a look at the opening moves in the war for the throne of Yamato.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.

Nat Tang (@natchiching) is the former Policy Convener for The Greens WA. In 2022, she consulted Decrim WA while developing the party's Ȿ:/

ByteDance is a global technology company operating a wide range of content platforms around the world, and is best known for creating TikTok. The company operates at a massive scale, which naturally presents challenges in ensuring performance and stability across its data centers. It has over a million servers running containerized applications, and this required The post ByteDance's Container Networking Stack with Chen Tang appeared first on Software Engineering Daily.

In a world flooded with information about women’s health - from TikTok trends to wellness influencers - separating fact from fiction has never been more challenging. This candid conversation between Katie Couric and gynecologist Dr. Karen Tang tackles the most persistent myths and misinformation surrounding women's health, with special focus on menstruation and incontinence.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Greg sits down with Dr. Liz Rios (Founder of Passion2Plant) and Rev. Len Tang (Director of the Fuller Church Planting Initiative) to explore the expanding world of multiethnic, micro, and digital church planting. They unpack the rapid growth of microchurches, the increasing leadership of women of color in church planting, and the redefinition of success beyond outdated metrics. The conversation also dives into the barriers multiethnic leaders face—especially in funding and power-sharing—and the urgent need for new pipelines that elevate diverse leaders. Get practical ideas and inspiration for: Starting and supporting digital faith communities Funding justice-centered churches Co-vocational and multi-vocational planting models Joining the Multiethnic Church Planting Collaborative Training through Passion2Plant   01:45 – The rise of microchurches and reimagined planting models 03:30 – Global influence on U.S. microchurch models 04:00 – Women of color stepping into church planting 05:00 – Digital and micro as natural expressions for multiethnic women leaders 06:30 – Letting go of traditional church planting metrics 07:00 – Digital church planting: cost, reach, and community impact 08:30 – Examples of digital church leaders reinvesting in their communities 10:00 – Financial sustainability and co-/tri-vocational leadership 12:00 – Challenges in multiethnic church planting: politics and funding 13:00 – Expanding the definition of multiethnic: immigrant, ethnic-specific, multiracial 14:30 – Power sharing and leadership dynamics in multiethnic models 18:45 – Kingdom diversity: Galatians and Revelation visions 20:00 – Demographic shifts and the need for diverse leadership pipelines 21:30 – Opportunities: Black church planting summit, Stadia's statement of lament 23:00 – Slowing down, building trust, and unlearning systems 26:30 – How to get involved: Passion2Plant and Fuller's Collaborative 28:00 – Final encouragement and closing thoughts

Personal trainer Tina Tang, 54, focuses on strength and balance for women in their 50s and beyond, drawing from her untraditional path of starting lifting weights at 40 and becoming a trainer at 42. The interview highlights how perimenopause and menopause lead to physical changes like insomnia, irregular periods, hormone-related weight gain, mood swings, and critically, a significant drop in estrogen and progesterone, impacting bone density (50% of women over 50 face osteoporosis or osteopenia) and contributing to muscle mass loss. Tang debunks fitness myths, stating that worrying about supplements like creatine or tools like a weighted vest is secondary to foundational health: adults should be strength training at least twice a week (30 minutes, full body) and getting 150 minutes of moderate cardio weekly, as recommended by WHO/CDC guidelines, which are proven preventative measures against all-cause mortality. The conversation differentiates strength from power (using strength quickly), noting power is lost fastest with age, but strength is its foundation. Balance, especially unilateral activities like tree pose or even brushing teeth on one leg, is critical. Plyometrics (jump training), which involve being airborne and landing repeatedly, are vital for bone density due to impact against gravity and for improving reactivity time to prevent falls. Simple home practices to start include taking more walks, utilizing technology like YouTube for short workouts, and finding accountability through friends.

In this episode of Why Distance Learning, Seth Fleischauer, Tami Moehring, and Allyson Mitchell welcome Alan Tang, founder of Collaboration Laboratory, to explore the power of play as a core instructional strategy in live virtual learning. They dig into what happens when games aren't the reward—but the curriculum itself. Alan shares how CoLab uses escape rooms, missions, and collaborative challenges to build communication, emotional intelligence, and strategic thinking for kids around the world.The conversation covers how CoLab builds safe, judgment-free cohorts that span cultures, how facilitators become coaches, and why giving students agency and space to fail leads to deeper learning. From “Elemental Escape” to avocado-themed risk challenges, this episode reveals a vibrant new model of education—where learning is playful, purposeful, and profoundly human.Key Topics Discussed:Why distance learning is uniquely suited for global, collaborative playHow CoLab designs challenges that teach soft skills in high-stakes gamesThe coaching model that blends structure and autonomy for kids aged 7–15Creating psychological safety in virtual cohorts from 25+ countriesHow feedback from students and facilitators drives content innovationAlan's vision for future adult and school-based applications of CoLabThe role of play in building empathy, leadership, and resilienceEpisode Links:Collaboration Laboratory WebsiteConnect with Alan Tang on LinkedInHost Links:Discover more virtual learning opportunities and resources at CILC.org with Tami Moehring and Allyson Mitchell.Seth Fleischauer's Banyan Global Learning provides meaningful global learning experiences that prepare students across the globe for success in an interconnected world.

For this show, produced in collaboration with Queens Memory and the Greater Astoria Historical Society, our “My Place” storytellers came together for a community writing workshop centered on the Queens Name Explorer. We all generated poems and personal stories on the page inspired by the historical significance behind the people's names that grace Queens streets, […]

My guest today brings over three decades of martial arts experience to the conversation. Angus Rogers began his training journey in the early 1990s, officially diving in with commitment in 1995. By 1999, he had earned his black belt—a milestone that marked the beginning of a lifelong passion. After a brief hiatus following the retirement ... Angus Rogers – Heads Of The Valleys Tang Soo Do – Ep224

"You know, Homer, when I found out about this I went through a wide range of emotions. First I was nervous, then anxious, then wary, then apprehensive, then... kinda sleepy, then worried, and then concerned. But now I realize that being a spaceman is something you have to do." - Marge Simpson In a bid to win his family's respect, Homer enters a space program geared towards blue-collar slobs in search of Tang. But will his love of ruffled potato chips and hatred for inanimate carbon rods be his undoing? Our guest: Maddie Copp Support this podcast and get over 200 ad-free bonus episodes by visiting Patreon.com/TalkingSimpsons and becoming a patron! And please follow the official Twitter, @TalkSimpsonsPod, not to mention Bluesky and Instagram!

Last time we spoke about the Marco Polo Bridge Incident. On July 7, 1937, tensions escalated between Japan and China as the Japanese military conducted a training exercise near the Marco Polo Bridge. During the exercise, gunfire erupted, sowing confusion and leading to the unexplained disappearance of one soldier. This incident prompted Japan to demand permission to search the nearby city of Wanping, which was denied by Chinese forces, escalating tensions further. By the next day, Japanese troops attacked, resulting in fierce fighting at the bridge. Under heavy assault, Chinese defenders fought valiantly but faced overwhelming force. As the conflict intensified, both sides struggled with heavy casualties, leading to the full-scale Sino-Japanese War. The Japanese military's aggressive maneuvers and the determined Chinese resistance marked the beginning of a brutal conflict, forever altering the landscape of East Asia. The profound toll on both nations foreshadowed the horrors of war that were to come, as China prepared to defend its sovereignty against a relentless enemy.   #155 Operation Chahar 1937 Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. By the end of July of 1937 the Japanese had overwhelmed the Beiping-Tianjin region. It's pretty understandable as to how this came so fast. As we have discussed thoroughly in this series, the Japanese had gradually seized control over Northern China going back to Operation Nekka in 1933. Little by little they had carved it out. Typically when you pull out a map of a war between two nations, one nation pierces into the other and gradually seizes control of key locations until it archives victory. However with the case of the outset of the Second Sino-Japanese War its more like the Japanese are starting at multiple key locations where they have concessions, treaties or where there are autonomous regions. Thus its honestly a huge headache to follow. When the Marco Polo Bridge Incident broke out, Chiang Kai-Shek had been in Kuling, a mountain top resort where he spent his summer vacations. He received the news with composure, but his message to the nation conveyed a sense of optimism and anticipation. The embarrassment of the Sian mutiny was a thing of the past. Although he wasn't overly confident, he believed that this was the pivotal moment China had been preparing for, more so than at any time in recent years. For nearly three weeks, efforts were made to resolve the situation through diplomatic means. For the first time, Chiang was in a position to make demands. He understood they would likely be rejected, but that wasn't the main point. He asked Japan to acknowledge its responsibility for the recent turmoil, to issue an apology, and to provide compensation. After making that request, he addressed his nation with a formal commitment: China would not accept any settlement that compromised its sovereign rights or territorial integrity. No changes would be permitted regarding the status of the Hubei-Chahar Council, and local officials would not be reassigned at the request of any foreign government. Any restrictions on the Twenty-ninth Army's positions would be unacceptable. He declared that the era of Japanese expansion in North China had come to a definitive end. The Japanese army achieved significant victories on the battlefield in China, leading to the inevitable expansion of the conflict. The first major campaign following the Nanyuan victory unfolded along the mountainous border marked by the inner Great Wall, separating northern Hubei from Chahar. On the Jinpu Railway, just south of Tianjin, lies a small station known as Jinghai. Adjacent to this station is the Jian River, which had swollen to a width of 20 meters due to intermittent heavy rains in northern China after the Japanese army's occupation of Tianjin. The embankments on either side of the river were overgrown with dense reeds and grass, and a wooden arch bridge spanned the river. After landing at Dagukou in Tianjin, the 10th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Rensuke Isogai, advanced south along the Jinpu Railway. However, as the vanguard, the 10th Regiment of the 33rd Brigade made its way through the muddy terrain towards the Jian River's wooden bridge, they were suddenly taken aback. A group of Chinese soldiers appeared, their faces vividly painted red and armed with long-handled broadswords, a sight reminiscent of the legendary Chinese figure Guan Yu, as depicted in many traditional portraits. These soldiers belonged to the 26th Independent Brigade of the 38th Division of the 29th Army, who were in retreat from Tianjin. Following the city's fall, they had retreated southward to Jinghai Station, where they prepared to make a stand. Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan recognized their inferior numbers and weaponry compared to the Japanese forces. Drawing from painful lessons learned during the positional battles in Tianjin, he decided to divide his troops strategically: one battalion would defend the station, another would protect the county town, and a third would engage in guerrilla tactics along the Jinpu Road. If faced with a small number of Japanese soldiers, they would fight fiercely; if overwhelmed, they would attempt to encircle the attackers to prevent a direct assault on their main position. Despite the Japanese army's attempts to advance, including efforts to send an armored train into Jinghai Station, the Chinese soldiers cleverly laid straw on the tracks and buried mines, thwarting the train's progress. Once Japanese troops disembarked to mount an offensive, they were ambushed by the battalion executing guerrilla tactics, resulting in a chaotic retreat that left behind several dozen casualties. Over the course of weeks, the divisional headquarters ordered a battalion of Japanese troops to move south along the Jinpu Road, requiring them to cross the Jian River at the wooden bridge. The 26th Independent Brigade was assigned to halt this advance, and they managed to hold their ground for over 20 days. Recognizing the gravity of their situation, Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan gathered his group and battalion commanders to emphasize the necessity of pushing back the Japanese forces. He passionately rallied them, declaring, “We must defend this river to the death. Each regiment will select a death squad. Each member will carry a long-handled broadsword and four grenades, paint their faces red and rush across the bridge to engage in melee combat!” When Li asked for volunteers to lead the death squad, the regiment commander, Zhu, eagerly stepped forward, quickly gathering a group that followed him, uniting passionately in their cause. The death squad charged across the bridge, catching the Japanese off guard with their war paint and weapons. The sudden attack left the Japanese soldiers dazed, leading to a chaotic retreat as they struggled through the muddy terrain. In the tumult, more than 200 long-handled swords struck down a significant number of Japanese troops. Those advancing from behind panicked at the sight of their retreating comrades. An officer, dismounted during the chaos, was left behind, and the Chinese soldiers, filled with zeal, pressed forward, ignoring the orders from Brigade Commander Li Zhiyuan to fall back for their own safety. Despite moments of heroism, many fell that day by the Jian River, as the officers and soldiers burned their boats and set fire to the wooden bridge, rendering retreat impossible. As the Japanese military consolidated its power in the Pingjin region, many leaders underestimated the tenacity of Chinese resistance. Plans were made to defeat the Chinese army and air force swiftly, aiming to resolve the issue in North China decisively, with no diplomatic negotiations or external interventions allowed during military operations. Now, in late July to early August, Chiang Kai-shek issued orders to improve defenses at Nankou. He mobilized Tang Enbo's 13th Army in Suidong for battle readiness, tasked Liu Ruming to sabotage railways, and directed Fu Zuoyi and Yan Xishan in Suiyuan to prepare for conflict. Troops were reorganized rapidly, with divisions merging to strengthen the 17th Army under Liu Ruming's command. Chiang insisted that Nankou's defenses be deep and wide to thwart enemy cavalry and tank assaults, rendering Japanese mechanized advantages ineffective. He called for close cooperation among commanders and a resolute defense. Tang Enbo's 13th Army, consisted of the 4th and 89th Divisions, whom established defensive positions along the Peiping-Suiyuan Railway at Nankou, with additional units positioned further back at Juyongguan. The 13th Army, was 20,000 men strong, all motivated soldiers committed to fighting the Japanese, but their equipment was woefully inadequate. The 89th Division had a few outdated artillery pieces, whilst other units were in even worse condition, hampering their effectiveness against the well-armed Japanese forces. Liu's 17th Army stationed its 84th Division at Chihcheng, Yanqing, and Longguan, effectively securing the flank of the 13th Army against potential Japanese advances from Chahar. The 21st Division was deployed in Huailai, situated along the railway to the rear of Tang's forces. Additionally, Zhao Chengshou's 1st Cavalry Army, Liu 's 143rd Division, and two Peace Preservation Brigades commenced an offensive against Mongol forces in northern Chahar. As the Japanese launched initial assaults on Nankou on August 4, fierce fighting erupted. The Chinese defenders fought valiantly, but heavy bombardments by artillery and air raids took a toll. The Japanese began using tanks to support their infantry, yet the 530th Regiment successfully repelled an attack at Deshengkou. Meanwhile, the Japanese intensified their efforts, culminating in poison gas assaults that overwhelmed Chinese positions on Longhutai, leading to significant losses. Despite the escalating pressure and casualties, the determination to hold Nankou was unwavering. On August 5, the Kwantung Army requested permission for the advance guard to move to Changpei, arguing that the Central Army's invasion of Chahar had jeopardized the security of Manchukuo. This request was denied, yet the advance guard proceeded to Changpei on August 8. This unauthorized movement by the Kwantung Army was a serious act of defiance, as Tolun lay outside Manchukuo's borders, and troop deployments required imperial authorization. Although imperial sanction had been obtained for the move to Tolun on July 28, permission for the advance guard to proceed was only granted retroactively, with the stipulation that they would not advance further into Inner Mongolia. Nevertheless, this unauthorized action ultimately compelled the high command to approve the advance to Changpei. On August 7, the Japanese army launched a large assault on Nankou with its three main divisions, aiming to breach the Great Wall and advance westward along the Pingsui Railway to flank the strategic city of Shanxi. By August 8, the Japanese forces that had captured Beiping and Tianjin deployed the entire 20th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Kawagishi Fumisaburo, and supplemented their efforts with the 5th and 10th Divisions, along with the Sakai Brigade, to attack Nankou along the Pingsui Railway. On August 8, the Japanese 11th Independent Mixed Brigade, led by General Shigiyasu Suzuki, initiated an attack on the left flank of the 13th Corps' position at Nankou. However, their efforts were halted after three days due to challenging terrain and the determined resistance from Chinese forces.  On the same day, Chiang Kai-shek ordered the activation of the 14th Group Army, comprising the 10th, 83rd, and 85th Divisions, under General Wei Lihuang. Elements of the 14th Group Army traveled by rail from Yingchia-chuang to Yi County and then embarked on a ten-day march through the plains west of Beiping to flank and support Tang Enbo's forces. Meanwhile, the Chinese 1st Army Region launched attacks against the Japanese in Liangxiang and Chaili to divert their attention and dispatched a detachment to Heilung Pass to cover the advance of the 14th Group Army. On August 9, the central high command ordered the China Garrison Army to eliminate resistance in the area and instructed Kwantung Army Commander Ueda Kenkichi to send reinforcements from Jehol and Inner Mongolia to support the operation. The China Garrison Army deployed its 11th Independent Mixed Brigade and the 5th Division, recently arrived from Hiroshima under Lieutenant-General Itagaki Seishirö, to launch an attack on the mountainous regions around Nankou and Pataling within the Great Wall. Following intense fighting, they succeeded in crossing into Chahar.    The Kwantung Army aimed to conquer Chahar and, upon receiving approval from the Japanese General Staff, established an expeditionary headquarters on August 14, led by its chief of staff, Lieutenant General Tojo Hideki. Yes that Tojo. Tokyo's objective was to secure the strategic flank of Manchukuo, while the Kwantung Army sought to create puppet regimes in northern China and integrate the occupied territories into a Japanese sphere of influence. The Chahar Expeditionary Force comprised three mixed brigades, including Japan's only fully mechanized unit, which was equipped with medium tanks, heavy and light armored vehicles, and light tanks. The Japanese troops shifted their main attack toward Zhangjiakou via the Pingsui Railway due to pressures from the Kwantung Army eager to occupy Inner Mongolia, Suiyuan, and Chahar. They sought to eliminate threats from the rear before launching further operations along the Pinghan Line and Jinpu Line. The 11th Independent Mixed Brigade of the 20th Division of the Chinese Garrison Army was ordered to assault Chinese defenders in the Nankou area, with the goal of capturing key locations on the Great Wall, like Badaling, to facilitate the Fifth Division's advance. The Chinese assessed the Japanese strategy, believing they would first secure critical points along the Pingsui route to facilitate further incursions into Shanxi and Zhengding. They understood that holding the Nankou line was vital for both logistical support and tactical maneuvering. Nankou, a key town on the Pingsui Railway connecting Beijing to Zhangjiakou and Baotou, was surrounded by mountains and the Great Wall, marking it a significant natural defense line. As the Japanese army aimed to capture Zhangjiakou and divide their forces into Shanxi and Suiyuan, the Chinese army's control over Nankou became crucial. A renewed assault on August 11, bolstered by tanks and aircraft, successfully captured Nankou Station, allowing General Suzuki's brigade to advance toward Juyong Pass. On August 12, Tang Enbo's army launched a counterattack, encircling the Japanese forces and severing their supply and communication lines. That day, Tang Enbo sent a telegram to Luo Fanggui: “Brother Fanggui, Commander Luo of the 529th Regiment, I have received your telegram. Your regiment has recently defeated formidable enemies, laying the groundwork for our army's future victories. Your efforts bring me great relief! The Nankou position is critical to our nation's war of resistance. Despite the enemy's numerical superiority and fierce artillery fire, we cannot surrender this area. It is our fighting spirit, not our numbers or advanced weaponry, that will help us withstand these powerful foes. We vow never to abandon our positions. Life is transient, and we must embrace our fate. A hero perishing on the battlefield is the glorious destiny of a soldier.” On the same day, he also sent a telegram to Wang Zhonglian: “Brother Jieren Wang, commander of the 89th Division, I have read your telegram. Brigade Li has triumphed against formidable foes, establishing a precedent for our army's victory. Your successes bring me much comfort! The Nankou position is our glorious objective. If I perish, the country lives on. If I survive, the country perishes. We would rather die defending this position than live in disgrace. Please convey to all the officers and soldiers of your division, who share in this struggle, the importance of striving for victory!” On August 13, Tang Enbo ordered the defensive positions at Nankou to be abandoned as the remaining troops pulled back to stronger positions at Badaling and Juyongguan. Renowned journalist Fan Changjiang noted Tang Enbo's physical and emotional toll, describing him as a mere shadow of his former self after enduring relentless battles without rest. His subsequent thoughts and fears reflected the despair of facing insurmountable odds, with the Japanese army overwhelming the Nankou defenses. Casualty reports from the Battle of Nankou reveal stark discrepancies; average estimates suggest Chinese losses neared 26,000, while Japanese casualties were around 2,600,an alarming ratio of 10 to 1. Despite the devastating defeat, Tang Enbo's leadership gained national recognition for his efforts, though he viewed the loss of Nankou as a blemish on an otherwise honorable defense. The indomitable spirit displayed during the relentless struggle at Nankou, despite the defeat and challenges faced, inspired a sense of resilience among the Chinese people, reminding them that even in dire circumstances, they would not yield to oppression. Meanwhile in response to having their supply and communication lines severed, on August 14, Seishirō Itagaki dispatched the 5th Division to relieve the 11th Independent Mixed Brigade at Juyonggua. Fu Zuoyi's troops attacked Chahar from Suidong. Dong Qiwu 's troops attacked Shangdu and recaptured it on the 14th, while Shi Yushan 's troops attacked Dehua and recaptured it on the 16th. By the 16, Itagaki had arrived at Nankou and initiated an enveloping assault targeting the right flank of the 13th Army, executing a five-pronged attack at Huanglaoyuan. In anticipation, the 7th Brigade of the 4th Division, commanded by Shi Jue, was positioned to counter this maneuver. Reinforcements, including Li Xianzhou's 21st Division and Zhu Huaibing's 94th Division, were brought in, resulting in several days of intense fighting. On August 17, General Yan Xishan, Director of the Taiyuan Pacification Headquarters, ordered the 7th Group Army, commanded by Fu Zuoyi, to move the 72nd Division and three additional brigades by rail from Datong to Huailai to support Tang Enbo's forces. Chiang Kai-shek urged steadfastness in the face of adversity, emphasizing that retreat was not an option. But with communication breakdowns and logistical challenges, Tang Enbo faced dilemmas that would lead him to issue the order for his troops to break out on August 26. As the Japanese army occupied Huailai and Yanqing, Tang Enbo's forces executed a withdrawal, retreating via various routes before suffering further losses.  Meanwhile Liu Ruming's troops of the 143rd Division of the 29th Army took Zhangbei from Zhangjiakou . Proceed to Wanquan Dam , the junction of Wanquan and Zhangbei. The members of the pseudo-Mongolian military government fled to Duolun under the leadership of King De . In order to relieve the danger in Zhangjiakou, Liu Ruming's troops began to attack the enemy in Zhangbei. On August 20, they captured key points such as Bolicai Village outside Zhangbei City. At this time, the mechanized troops of the Japanese Kwantung Army led by Hideki Tojo rushed from Rehe to support Zhangbei. When passing through Guyuan, they were divided into two groups: one group of Japanese troops, the Suzuki Brigade and Homma Brigade went south to attack Zhangjiakou. On the night of August 21, the Chinese army retreated to Shenweitai, 25 kilometers south of Zhangbei County. On August 22, the Japanese army began its attack. Shenwei Tower fell at midnight on the 23rd. At the same time, another part of the Japanese army launched a roundabout attack on Wanquan County. On the morning of August 24, they captured Wanquan County, and then headed straight for Zhangjiakou along the highway with an infantry regiment and an artillery battalion. From August 25 to 27, the Japanese army attacked Bajiaotai, the highest point of Cir Mountain west of Zhangjiakou. At noon on the 27th, Zhangjiakou fell. Gao Guizi's 17th Army marched to Dushikou to resist the enemy from Duolun Akagi and Longguan and intercepted the Pingsui Railway. Gao Guizi's troops failed to withstand the Japanese attack, and the 301st Regiment of the 29th Army stationed in Xuanhua also retreated southward. On August 28, Xuanhua fell into the hands of the enemy. Meanwhile, in northern Chahar, the Chinese 1st Cavalry Army successfully captured Shangdu, Nanhaochan, Shangyi, and Huade from the puppet Mongolian Army led by Demchugdongrub. Elements of the 143rd Division secured Zhongli, while the main force advanced to Zhangbei. During this Chinese offensive, the Japanese Chahar Expeditionary Force, consisting of the mechanized 1st Independent Mixed Brigade along with the 2nd and 15th Mixed Brigades, prepared for a counteroffensive from Zhangbei to Kalgan. Tojo personally commanded the units of the 1st Independent Mixed Brigade during Operation Chahar, which would serve as his only real combat service for his career. From August 18 to 19, the Chahar Expeditionary Force launched a counterattack from Zhangbei, capturing Shenweitaiko on the Great Wall and the Hanno Dam. The scattered and ill-equipped Chinese forces were unable to halt the Japanese advance, which now threatened the Peking–Suiyuan Railway at Kalgan. On August 20, General Fu Zuoyi's 7th Group Army diverted its 200th and 211th Brigades, which had been moving south by rail to join General Tang Enbo's forces, back to defend Kalgan. Fu's remaining 72nd Division arrived to reinforce Chenpien, while his 7th Separate Brigade was dispatched to protect the railhead at Huailai.On August 21, the Japanese forces breached the defenses at the villages of Henglingcheng and Chenbiancheng. General Tang Enbo's forces, awaiting reinforcements but having suffered over 50% casualties, continued to defend Huailai, Juyong Pass, and Yanqing. Liu Ruming's 143rd Division retreated to safeguard Kalgan from the advancing Japanese troops. On August 23, as Seishirō Itagaki's 5th Division advanced toward Huailai from Chenpien against Ma Yenshou's 7th Separate Brigade, advance elements of the 14th Army Group arrived on the Japanese flank at Chingpaikou. They successfully drove off the Japanese outpost and made contact with Japanese forces advancing toward Chenpien. However, delays in crossing the Yongding River postponed their attack until it was too late to halt the Japanese advance. Due to poor communications, they also failed to coordinate with General Tang Enbo's forces during the battle. After eight days and nights of fierce fighting, on August 24, Itagaki linked up with the Kwantung Army's 2nd Independent Mixed Brigade at Xiahuayuan. By August 24, the Japanese army breached the defensive line of the Chinese defenders' Wang Wanling Division along the western Hengling, crossed the Great Wall, and advanced into the Huailai area. At this time, the Japanese forces attacking Zhangjiakou from Chabei also secured control of the railway line west of Zhangjiakou, posing a significant threat to the Chinese defenders at Nankou. On August 25, the Chinese defenders were compelled to withdraw from Nankou and retreat to Juyongguan. By August 27, they received orders to break out and relocate southward, completely evacuating the Nankou battlefield. Since Wei Lihuang's troops lost their intended target for reinforcement and Baoding along the Pinghan Line was in a state of emergency, they engaged the enemy in the Wanping area for over a month before retreating south. Following the abandonment of both Nankou and Juyongguan, the Japanese army invaded Huailai City on the night of August 27. The Chinese army suffered over 16,000 casualties, while the Japanese army reported more than 15,000 casualties. On August 26, General Tang Enbo's forces were ordered to break out toward the Sangchien River, while Liu Ruming's troops were directed to withdraw to the opposite side of the Hsiang-yang River. On August 29, a Japanese unit known as the Oui Column by the Chinese and the Ohizumi Detachment by the Japanese launched an attack. According to Hsu Long-hsuen, this unit moved south from Tushihkou, and on August 30, it attacked Yenching via Chihcheng but was repelled by the Chinese 17th Army. The unit had moved to Guyuan by August 25 and reached Xuanhua by September 7, effectively cutting the railway behind Tang's forces and east of the Chinese defenders along the Great Wall. Following the repulsion of the Oui Column's attack, the Chinese 17th Army withdrew to join the rest of Tang Enbo's forces on the far side of the Sangchien River. Kalgan fell to the Japanese on August 27. After General Fu Zuoyi's 200th and 211th Brigades failed in their counterattack to recapture Kalgan, Fu's forces retreated to the west to defend the railway to Suiyuan at Chaikoupao.  On August 30, the army high command ordered the task force and the China Garrison Army to occupy Chahar Province. The North China Area Army deployed Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro's Fifth Division, the theater's strategic reserve, for this operation. The Japanese forces relied on armored units to breach Chinese defenses and utilized rail lines to transport troops and supplies effectively to critical locations throughout Chahar. Although the First Independent Mixed Brigade's tanks and armored cars demonstrated proficiency, the Kwantung Army's assessment of the operation criticized the armored units for their lack of shock effect and frequent mechanical breakdowns. Additionally, these vehicles required significant supplies and maintenance, leading the army to deem them ineffective in combat situations. The Second Air Group provided crucial support for the ground offensive in Chahar. From mid-August, this air group, stationed in Chengde and Jingzhou, conducted bombing raids on enemy positions and transport routes, performed reconnaissance missions, and even airdropped supplies to encircled Japanese forces. To match the rapid advance of the mechanized ground forces, air units were repositioned to advanced airfields. After bombing Taiyuan in late August, some units returned to their home bases, leaving behind two fighter squadrons and two heavy bomber squadrons, which formed a provisional air regiment. By mid-September, the Fifth Division and the Chahar Expeditionary Force were advancing southwest through the rugged mountains of Shanxi Province and captured Datong on September 13. Five days later, anticipating a decisive battle, Lieutenant General Katsuki ordered the Fifth Division to pivot southeast toward Baoding to encircle the retreating Chinese forces. Shortly after repositioning, Itagaki learned from aerial reconnaissance that Chinese units were assembling near Pingxingguan (Dayingzhen) Pass. Concerned that these forces might advance eastward through the pass and threaten his rear, Itagaki dispatched a regimental-sized task force under the command of Major General Miura Keiji, leader of the Twenty-first Brigade, to disperse the enemy troops and control the road on both sides of the pass. Miura's task force departed by truck in the mid-afternoon of the following day, but the overland movement proved much slower and more challenging than anticipated. Travelling along a single rutted dirt track through steep mountains, the forty-nine trucks carrying his infantry and heavy weapons, including crew-served machine guns and battalion artillery, could only manage a speed of seven miles per hour. By late afternoon, the lead elements were still about five miles east of the pass when they encountered a few hundred Chinese troops who had retreated after a brief firefight. As night fell, the Japanese moved cautiously forward and reached a village approximately a mile from the pass, where they encountered stiff resistance, including mortar and automatic weapons fire. After successfully repelling a counterattack by the Chinese Seventy-third Division, Miura launched a night assault. Supported by pack artillery and heavy machine guns, two Japanese companies pushed through the pass and seized the high ground on its west side by early morning. However, Chinese reinforcements soon arrived and attempted to reclaim the lost territory, resulting in ongoing fighting for the heights on September 24. Meanwhile, the Chinese Communist 115th Division, comprising the 685th, 686th, and 687th regiments of the Eighth Route Army, consisting of around 6,000 effective troops under the command of twenty-nine-year-old Lin Biao, maneuvered south around the Japanese rear. By September 24, they had interposed themselves on the road east of the pass, effectively cutting off Miura's task force from its supply base. That same day, the Central Army's Seventy-first Division launched several sharp counterattacks against Miura's outnumbered forces west of the pass, threatening to overrun the Japanese positions. Central Army and Communist forces had planned to attack both flanks of the Japanese at dawn on September 25, but torrential rains delayed the advance of the Central Army reserves. The downpour also muffled the sounds of an approaching Japanese night assault. Utilizing the poor night security of the Chinese, Japanese assault parties surprised the Seventy-first and Eighty-fourth divisions, pushing them from their positions west of the pass. Miura mistakenly believed he controlled both sides of the pass and assumed the Chinese forces were in full retreat. Unbeknownst to him, Lin Biao's troops had blocked the eastern entrance to the pass, prompting him to order a resupply column with rations and ammunition forward from about fifteen miles east of the pass to replenish his depleted task force. The supply train, consisting of seventy horse-drawn wagons and eighty trucks, struggled to make progress along the single dirt track, where sections had become muddy bogs due to the heavy rains. Most of the hundred-plus soldiers handling the horses and wagons were untrained and unarmed. The few regular service corps soldiers carried only ten cavalry carbines, while a single infantry platoon of thirty men provided security. The eighty trucks transported another 176 men, most of whom were not infantry. Therefore, the resupply column was ill-prepared for any trouble. Following a sunken road worn down by centuries of caravans, the column approached the pass through a narrow man-made defile, with its sides rising as high as thirty-five feet above the track. Around mid-morning, about four miles east of the pass, the Chinese Communist 115th Division launched an ambush. Communist troops rained grenades and small-arms fire from the high ground overlooking the road onto the trapped convoy. Although the Japanese fought back desperately, the combination of surprise, advantageous terrain, and overwhelming numbers turned the road into a killing ground. The ambush decimated almost all of the teamsters and the infantrymen who protected the wagons. At his field headquarters, Miura heard the heavy gunfire and explosions and quickly ordered a battalion-sized rescue force to assist the convoy. However, the Chinese 685th Regiment, blocking the only road to the trapped supply train, halted the Japanese battalion. Elements of the 685th and 686th regiments then finished off the motorized convoy, with only five trucks at the rear escaping. After looting weapons, equipment, and clothing, the Communists burned the remaining vehicles and withdrew southwest into the rugged mountains. Although the Communists claimed to have killed 3,000 Japanese troops, the more realistic number is around 200. Nonetheless, Lin Biao's guerrillas had achieved a significant tactical success. While the 115th Division destroyed the Japanese resupply column east of the pass, the Central Army's Sixth and Seventh Army Groups, including the Seventy-first Division, launched a series of day and night assaults against Miura's dispersed units west of the pass. Both sides incurred heavy losses, and the Japanese struggled to maintain control of the high ground as the Chinese fanned out through the valleys and attacked from all sides. Isolated and under heavy attack, the Japanese were low on ammunition, food, and water, lacked proper cold-weather clothing in the frigid mountains, and were greatly outnumbered. They resorted to scavenging ammunition and weapons from fallen Chinese soldiers. Itagaki promptly ordered his 41st and 21st infantry regiments, supported by an infantry regiment from the Kwantung Army located about fifty miles northeast of the pass, to rescue the beleaguered task force. These regiments moved along a narrow mountain road amidst heavy rain, which slowed their progress. The relief force split up about forty miles north of Pingxingguan, with the Twenty-first Regiment swinging westward to outflank the Chinese, while the other two regiments continued toward the pass. To the northwest, the Fifteenth Brigade of the Chahar Expeditionary Force advanced southeastward from Datong to encircle the Chinese. Central Army forces defending along the inner Great Wall, about fifty miles northwest of Pingxingguan, inflicted substantial casualties on the Japanese. The Japanese Forty-first Regiment finally reached Miura on September 28, and on the same day, the Twenty-first Regiment dislodged the stubborn defenders along the Inner Great Wall, roughly forty miles northwest of the pass, disrupting the entire Chinese defense and threatening to surround the besieging forces. Nonetheless, fighting continued through September 29, when the Second Brigade broke through the Chinese Central Army's defenses and advanced westward. Facing potential encirclement and certain destruction, the Japanese Sixth Army Group withdrew southwest the following day. Japanese accounts do not specify overall losses, but Chinese reports claim nearly 3,000 Japanese casualties while acknowledging they suffered ten times that number. After five days of intense fighting in rugged terrain, Miura's forces managed to hold their ground, but their heavy losses and those sustained by relief columns rendered it a Pyrrhic victory. Both Communist and Nationalist Chinese forces retreated southwest, surviving to fight another day. The determination of the Chinese Central Army in both offensive and defensive maneuvers, combined with the skillful hit-and-run tactics of the 115th Division, inflicted significant damage on the Japanese and became a cornerstone of Chinese propaganda. On October 1, the Japanese General Staff ordered the North China Area Army to destroy the Chinese forces in Shanxi Province, which were estimated to number over twenty divisions from either the Shanxi Army or the Central Army, and were fortifying positions in Taiyuan, Yangquan, and Yuanpingzhen. The Japanese Fifth and Twentieth Divisions advanced toward Taiyuan, while the Fifteenth Division, reinforced by a mixed brigade, launched an assault south from Yuanpingzhen on October 13. The Fifteenth Division quickly encountered strong Chinese resistance from well-prepared defenses, which halted its advance. From October 19 to 26, the Twentieth Division faced thirteen Chinese divisions entrenched near Jiuguan. Although they successfully repelled numerous fierce counterattacks, the division was unable to breach the Chinese lines. A maneuver by one of its regiments to the rear of the Chinese defenses forced a withdrawal of Chinese troops. The reconstituted Fifth Division joined the pursuit of the retreating Chinese forces on November 3, reaching Taiyuan five days later. Meanwhile, the Twentieth Division, moving westward, inflicted heavy losses on the Chinese units that were withdrawing from Taiyuan. Overall, given that the offensive aimed to secure territory, it can be considered a tactical and operational success. Shortly thereafter, all Japanese forces, except for the Twentieth Division, withdrew from Shanxi Province. The Chahar campaign concluded with the Kwantung Army in control of Chahar, Suiyuan, and the northern half of Shanxi Province. The Japanese quickly established puppet regimes in the captured territories. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In July 1937, tensions between Japan and China erupted following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, leading to fierce fighting as Japanese troops attacked. Chinese defenders, under command of Chiang Kai-shek, bravely resisted despite overwhelming odds, determined to protect their sovereignty. The Battle of Nankou saw relentless assaults, tank warfare, and desperate defense tactics, revealing the depth of Chinese resolve. 

This week, Jason is joined by Shiliang and Josh to discuss derivatives, perps, trade ideas, the state of the overall market and Public Crypto Vehicles' impact on the market.  -- Start your day with crypto news, analysis and data from Katherine Ross. Subscribe to the Empire newsletter: https://blockworks.co/newsletter/empire?utm_source=podcasts -- Follow Shiliang: https://x.com/ShiliangTang Follow Josh: https://x.com/joshua_j_lim Follow Santi: https://x.com/santiagoroel Follow Jason: https://x.com/JasonYanowitz Follow Empire: https://twitter.com/theempirepod -- Join the Empire Telegram: https://t.me/+CaCYvTOB4Eg1OWJh -- Crypto never sleeps. So we built an Al analyst that never blinks. Meet Focal by FalconX: a GenAI insights engine built for institutional crypto.Already used by 80+ funds managing $10B+ in AUM.- Screen, chart, and analyze 1300+ tokens- Summarize market-moving news instantly- Integrates data from CoinGecko, Kaito, Token Terminal, Tokenomist, The Tie Get started today: https://askfocal.com -- SKALE is the next evolution in Layer 1 blockchains with a gas-free invisible user experience, instant finality, high speed, and robust security. SKALE is built different as it allows for limitless scalability and has already saved its 50 Million users over $11 Billion in gas fees. SKALE is high-performance and cost-effective, making it ideal for compute-intensive applications like AI, gaming, and consumer-facing dApps. Learn more at https://skale.space and stay up to date with the gas-free invisible blockchain on X at @skalenetwork -- Ledn is the leading platform for Bitcoin-backed loans, offering a secure and transparent way to unlock liquidity without selling your Bitcoin. Ledn has issued over $9 billion in loans since 2018 and has never lost a single satoshi of client assets, earning a reputation as the name you can trust in the crypto space. Visit https://www.ledn.io to learn more. -- Chapters: (00:00) Intro (02:47) Arbelos Founding Story (09:25) Still One Big Trade? (12:14) Ads (Skale) (13:07) Derivatives Market Explained (18:26) Perps Explained (20:53) Venture & Liquid Funds (23:41) Inefficiencies In Crypto Market (24:56) State Of The Market (29:49) Impact Of Liquidity Drains (32:54) Ads (Skale) (33:46) Public Crypto Vehicles + Risks (48:27) Ads (Falcon x,LEDN) (50:15) Does The Cycle Still Exist? (51:38) Deribit Deal (57:38) Bitcoin ETFs (01:03:34) Hyperliquid (01:07:42) Trade Ideas — Disclaimer: Nothing said on Empire is a recommendation to buy or sell securities or tokens. This podcast is for informational purposes only, and any views expressed by anyone on the show are solely our opinions, not financial advice. Santiago, Jason, and our guests may hold positions in the companies, funds, or projects discussed.

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.  

Mười một người chết bao gồm kẻ xả súng, và những người khác bị thương nghiêm trọng trong vụ tấn công bằng súng tại một trường trung học ở thành phố Graz, được mô tả là chết chóc nhất trong lịch sử hiện đại của Áo.

Today we have a really special show with two good friends and outstanding coaches Jim Waldron and Justin Tang We had a wonderful conversation about the current CULTURE of golf instruction and what it is ACTUALLY doing for our game. The resulting conversation was outstanding: What are the BELIEFS that need to be challenged to move forward ? The mistake we make in thinking that movement can be changed easily The commitment and dedication required A ‘path of mastery' approach The language of ‘easy and simple' and why that is so limiting to make changes The over technical approach and why it holds so many people back Are we teaching the swing or the individual? Everyone has a different NEUTRAL Are you a ‘Body Only' coach? The myth of Mind Body dualism The ‘Mind Body' connection and why it is so important The skill of focused ATTENTION The role of EMOTIONS The role of the mind body connection in MARTIAL ARTS The role of economics in traditional coaches – The wealth – power imbalance What is the future for GREAT coaching? A truly fantastic conversation with two great coaches To find out more about Justin Tang go to https://www.tmcc.org.sg/golf/golf-academy/private-group-lessons/justin-tang/ To find out about Jim Waldron go to https://balancepointgolf.com/ To get on board with the Mind Caddie and join us on the journey go to https://www.mindcaddie.golf/ OFFICIAL BRAND AMBASSADOR : Fenix Apparel and Accessories Co. Ltd. Shop with code : MINDFACTOR10 at checkout for 10% OFF your next order at www.fenixxcell.com @fenixxcell    

(00:00-23:20) Hate texts coming in before the show even gets started. Where would you even release a nude? Jackson vs. Doug on retractable roofs. Workshopping Thursday's problems. The Mack was a real who's who on Saturday. AI on the Fan Page. Name change season. Martin got to meet some of the listeners at The Dotem.(23:28-45:26) Sunny Delight, Kool-Aid, & Tang. Good conversations with old school 101 listeners who hate us. Time for our weekly Pestus from Festus call. Pestus has a question for Jackson about NBA on TNT and ESPN. Cardinal game on Roku. Pestus didn't like the commercials. Prime Karen years.(45:36-1:02:40) Fine human craftsmanship. Everybody hates everything. Ranking MLB's Top 25 games of the 2000's. Doug's struggling with this one.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Credits: 0.25 AMA PRA Category 1 Credit™   CME/CE Information and Claim Credit: https://www.pri-med.com/online-education/podcast/frankly-speaking-cme-435 Overview: In this episode, we discuss how screen time—from adolescence through adulthood—can disrupt sleep more than we might realize. Hear what the latest research says about topics like blue light and sleep duration, discover practical strategies to sleep smarter in this digital world, and learn how sleep deprivation can impact the health of your patients. Episode resource links: Zhong, C., Masters, M., Donzella, S. M., Diver, W. R., & Patel, A. V. (2025). Electronic Screen Use and Sleep Duration and Timing in Adults. JAMA Network Open, 8(3), e252493-e252493. Liu, Y. (2016). Prevalence of healthy sleep duration among adults—United States, 2014. MMWR. Morbidity and mortality weekly report, 65. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). (2017). Announcement: sleep awareness week, April 23–29, 2017. Morb Mortal Wkly Rep (MMWR), 66(15), 411. Chaput, J. P., Dutil, C., Featherstone, R., Ross, R., Giangregorio, L., Saunders, T. J., ... & Carrier, J. (2020). Sleep duration and health in adults: an overview of systematic reviews. Applied Physiology, Nutrition, and Metabolism, 45(10), S218-S231. Hartley, S., Royant-Parola, S., Zayoud, A., Gremy, I., & Matulonga, B. (2022). Do both timing and duration of screen use affect sleep patterns in adolescents?. Plos one, 17(10), e0276226. Salfi, F., Amicucci, G., Corigliano, D., D'Atri, A., Viselli, L., Tempesta, D., & Ferrara, M. (2021). Changes of evening exposure to electronic devices during the COVID-19 lockdown affect the time course of sleep disturbances. Sleep, 44(9), zsab080. He, J. W., Tu, Z. H., Xiao, L., Su, T., & Tang, Y. X. (2020). Effect of restricting bedtime mobile phone use on sleep, arousal, mood, and working memory: a randomized pilot trial. PloS one, 15(2), e0228756. Guest: Mariyan L. Montaque, DNP, FNP-BC   Music Credit: Matthew Bugos Thoughts? Suggestions? Email us at FranklySpeaking@pri-med.com   

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The Book of Records is many things: a book of historical fiction and speculative fiction, a meditation on time and on space-time,  on storytelling and truth, on memory and the imagination, a book that impossibly conjures the lives and eras of the philosopher Baruch Spinoza, the Tang dynasty poet Du Fu and the political theorist […] The post Madeleine Thien : The Book of Records appeared first on Tin House.