Author Archives: Michael Gakuran
Although Japan has its fair share of seedy districts, sex museums and even Penis festivals, oddly enough the first place I ended up exploring was not in the Land of the Rising Run at all. Not too far off the coast of Kyushu, about halfway towards the Korean mainland is a small island called Jeju. […]
Google Page Rank is one of the measures used to determine a site’s importance. It’s based not only on the number of incoming links, but also on the quality and relevance of each link. Kinda like sites voting for one another. But it’s not just how many people you know, it’s also who you know.
The eye sockets were bottomless, absorbing every flickr of remaining light. The soul of an old diver having long since succumbed to the darkness. Left to skulk alone in the depths of the ocean.
Alone inside the auditorium of a haikyo Motor Lodge. It was a peaceful place; very still, but with a heaviness to the air. The empty stage was longing for performers. But me, I couldn’t help be drawn to the stepped ceiling above. What lurked within those shadows, having so hurriedly scuttled away from the invading […]
When visiting my host family up in Akita some time ago, I came across a rather interesting item. It was a Mahjong board (my host parents being rather keen players), but not just any – a classic Yakuman Sparkling Diamond set made by Nintendo!
Sometimes beautiful moments just create themselves. I was composing this shot of a cemetery behind Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto when all of a sudden a man walked out from between the gravestones. The rays of sunlight and harsh shadows cast already made for a neat black and white image, but the a human presence really […]
It’s been 3 months since my exploration of an unusual haikyo house ignited a whole heap of discussion. Since then, several major haikyoists have figured out the location and documented the site, and the shrewd people over on 2ch have been slowly picking away at the mystery surrounding the family. But with the the location […]
Our journey was drawing to a close, but we still had to pass through a mass grave known as the Crossroads of the Dead. Here, one must crawl atop the crackling, yellowed bones of millions of deceased Parisians to advance. It’s certainly not a place for the squeamish…