hamu86

Seriously, I don't understand why you people continue to visit that park. As someone who has actually tried just this, let me just crush your dreams now: the operator actually laughed at me at called me "baka" for even suggesting such a thing. The indifference they treat their guests with is just further proof that the operations are in fact intentional, and is the hype that keeps the place packed. I only received a raincheck once, and they allowed me to use it on a later visit without any problem. This despite the fact that I am myself rather on the "baka" side of things (evidenced by my poor choice in employers and the precipitous drop in my income over the last three years).

Obese Enjoy Food Less and Less Overeating -- Like Addiction -- Linked to Brain's Reward Circuit By Daniel J. DeNoon WebMD Health News Reviewed by Louise Chang, MD Oct. 16, 2008 -- Obese people expect to enjoy food more than lean people do, but when they eat, they enjoy it less, a brain study shows. And that's a problem. To make up for the missing enjoyment, obese people eat more high-calorie food. Overeating further dulls food enjoyment and locks people in a vicious circle. The finding comes from real-time brain-imaging studies in obese and lean women by Eric Stice, PhD, of the Oregon Research Institute, and colleagues. "We originally thought obese people would experience more reward from food. But we see obese people only anticipate more reward; they get less reward. It is an ironic process," Stice tells WebMD. Stice's team showed women a picture of a chocolate milkshake and a picture of a glass of water. The heavier the woman, the more active the pleasure center in her brain. Then the women actually tasted a chocolate milkshake or a neutral solution. Heavier women had less activity in their brains' pleasure centers. "Probably this is related to downregulation of the brain's reward circuit. The more you do things that are rewarding, the less reward you see," Stice says. "The more you eat an unhealthy diet, the more you see this blunted pleasure response to high-energy foods." Tufts University neuroscientist Emmanuel Pothos, PhD, has seen the same thing in mouse studies. He was not involved in the Stice study. "Obesity is not only a function of brain systems that regulate body weight, but a function of brain systems that regulate eating for pleasure," Pothos says. "In mice, the central dopamine system -- the system that underlies pleasure from eating -- is defective. The animals have a very low response to stimuli that release dopamine. And food is one of those stimuli." New Genetic Risk for Obesity Some people carry a variant gene that dulls dopamine responses. These people, Stice found, are more likely to be obese. And even if they are not obese, they get less pleasure from eating -- putting them at risk of overcompensating by overeating. "People with the most blunted reward circuits are at the most risk of overeating, and the more they engage in eating, the more you see downregulation of their reward circuitry," Stice says. "They eat more to get the same reward." "Of course it is a vicious circle," says Pothos. "A person says, 'I do not get pleasure from high-energy food, so I am eating even more but getting less pleasure, I don't know what to do. So obesity and weight gain may result from what we may call addiction to high-energy food." The term "addiction" isn't a metaphor. Stice and Pothos note that the same vicious circle, involving the same brain circuits and the same underlying genetic susceptibility, occurs in people addicted to drugs. New Genetic Risk for Obesity continued... However, both researchers are quick to point out that a dysfunctional pleasure system is only half the answer to the puzzle of obesity. Metabolic functions that control body weight also play a major role. "We don't want to say obesity is an addictive disorder and not a metabolic disorder. We just want to say, 'Pay attention to both,'" Pothos says. Stice is now looking at whether obese people who switch to a healthy diet can reset their pleasure circuitry. He finds that when obese people stop eating energy-dense foods, their craving for such foods goes down, not up. "If we can get obese people to improve the quality of their diets and stay the course for long time, eventually they do much better in craving and their pleasure circuits should go back to their old balance," he says. Pothos and colleagues are looking at whether parents' unhealthy eating behavior has an effect on children -- even before they are born. "How did the obesity epidemic happen? Something is passed from parents to their offspring," he suggests. Stice and colleagues report their findings in the Oct. 17 issue of the journal Science. Stice's colleagues included researchers from Yale University and the University of Texas at Austin.

Well, not sure where you got the idea that I hate TDR. Both TDL and TDS are among my favorite parks, but they can still be really annoying at times. Same thing goes for Great Adventure.

I personally find Tokyo Disneyland's long lines, lack of beer, and rude clientele to be pretty frustrating.

EDIT by larrygator: Fedor Emelianenko is a big fan of roller coasters http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN7hXTuofzY

Before anyone gets any ideas, video cameras are still definitely not OK. It was a one-time deal when the Youtube folks were on the park grounds. And they were only allowed to film the Youtube girls on that one isolated occasion (both Youtube videos posted a few days ago were shot on the exact same launch). The only other time in recent memory that cameras were authorized on Dodonpa (at least that I know of) was for filming of the Amazing Race a couple of years ago.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tf8dlfJlvY Around 1:45.

Actually, they regularly vary the timing of the launch in relation to the countdown, just by a little bit. On one ride you might launch early, while on your next you might launch late. For a few weeks in 2006, they replaced the usual countdown with a famous soundbite from the robot cartoon "Gundam." The robot usually took off as its pilot called out, "This is Amuro -- I am going!" Or something to that effect. Cool beans. I think I would have enjoyed that.

I forgot to mention that Tokyo Disney Resort started its 25th anniversary celebration last week, so they apparently changed around some of the decor. For example, the replacing of the glorious heads of the Caspian Tigers with the Genie's (see photo). Yet everytime I noticed something new and mentioned it out loud, I felt like such a dork and cursed myself for even being able to spot the aberrations. It was odd being at a Disney park with everybody else wearing ear-hat-things and looking at me as if I were the weirdo . . .

(Time to finish this thing up. This past weekend, I finally had a chance to take a real trip to a real place for the first time in a long while, and it was damn fun. Will try not to waste much more time on this kind of crap.) So with Indiana Jones fastpasses in hand, we headed for the cantina. Actually, Kayo headed for the little girls' room whereas I headed straight for my long-deserved first beer of the day. We finally reassembled and took spots in one of those 30-minute fast food lines that earns Disney its riches. Guess who in the parallel line? Abuser Dad. He went way out of his way to avoid eye contact, even when I called out to him in my usual friendly way. It was lame. Food bad. Beer good. Wine bad. What made the lunch was the live mariachi band. It was the best I'd ever felt at a Disney park. I took a five-minute break to pick up Raging Spirits fastpasses as well. Indiana Jones OK as usual. Raging Spirits horrible. On to the comically racist Arabian port. The Sindbad ride was fine. What was better was coming out to see the characters in full force taking pictures with the proletariat. Of course, with the crowds we couldn't manage a picture with anyone except the resolutely unattractive, mangy monkey from Aladdin. And then the live actors came out. Jasmine was astounding. I placed her at 17 years old, ASIJ Chofu campus, then walked away from the illegality of it all. Thankfully Kayo snapped a few pictures. Then another line, this time for the Magic Lamp thing. Behind two girls in full Disney gear: Minnie ears, miniskirts, neon pink tops. Oh wait, scratch that. The two girls' ages added up to 120 or so. The whole line was dry heaving. Oh well, where else can you see this (if you're into that sort of thing) besides Disneyland? Then again, I suppose Exotic Erotic night in the Castro is a viable answer. Magic Lamp cast was quite poor. Much worse than my first experience, not worth a third. Boats, popcorn, end of day. A thoroughly memorable Disney visit, complete with a near fight, honest mariachi music, hot Jasmine, and dozens of people dry heaving at the sight of geriatric Minnies. It just doesn't get any better than that. Which is why I should have stopped there and gone straight back to civilization. Instead, I wheeled by the gift shop and bought my girls the caricatured mini-replica of the Flounder coaster at an irrationally exuberant price. Checked it out at home the next day, and the lift hill didn't work smoothly. Not happy. Disney. Made in China. In sum, fully satisfied by this visit, and I probably won't need to check the place out again for a long time.

We should have walked, but we elected to wait for that utterly pointless electric railway to Port Discovery. By the time we got there and walked a bit more to Central America, it was about a quarter to noon. I knew there would be beer at this part of Disney Sea, but I retained focus and ran for the Indiana Jones fastpasses instead. We wouldn't be able to use the Indiana Jones fastpasses until 90-120 minutes later or so, so we decided to check out one of them shows. Mystic Rhythms, I believe. We lined up about 25 minutes before the 12:15 curtain, something we would never do if not for the fact that the rest of the Disney fandom seemed to be doing the same, and then the strangest thing happened. While Kayo was looking at her map, a little being that we the people of Hawaii refer to as a menehune suddenly apparitioned itself right behind us. For those among us who aren't culturally savvy on the old legends of Hawaii, Mr. Menehune is best described as resembling an 84-year-old midget Inca (scratch that, I haven't done any research on average Inca stature during the relevant period). Mr. Menehune started going off on Mystic Rhythms, saying that it usually clocked in at between 20 and 21 minutes in length, but on one rare occasion it came in at 22, and that he was wont to watch it twice in a day followed by a beer and pork-and-beans at the Yucatan watchamacallit, and that the best seat for first timers was right side, ten rows from the stage, but that because he wanted to touch the butterfly (?), he was going to angle for a left bank aisle seat. He went on and on. This dude was fascinating. So we asked Mr. Menehune, "It's obvious you come here a lot -- how often?" Mr. Menehune told us that he has made over 3,000 trips to either Tokyo Disneyland or Disney Sea. We quickly found out that the whole cast knows this guy. They are almost certainly magnetized by his affection for beer, which is the noblest trait of humankind. This guy is awesome. We tried to get a picture with him after the show, but thought better of it in honor of his privacy, and then he disappeared into the wind. And finally it was time to honor the menehune with a beer. Or two. And a glass of wine. Which is precisely what I did at that ridiculous excuse for a Mexican joint next door.

I dang near got into a fight at Disney Sea. After a brief stop for some typically horrid and overpriced Oriental Land food, we made it back to Tower of Terror. A few minutes into the fastpass queue, I noticed a fastpass on the ground. I picked it up, perhaps with half a thought to using it myself or donating it to Kayo, provided that no claimants appeared. Not long thereafter, though, a girl of about seven or eight started backtracking along the line, looking at the ground, followed a few paces back by her father. They had just started getting into one of your run-of-the-mill parent-child arguments, when I guessed what the root of the problem was and stepped forward with the dropped fastpass. The father took it from my hand without a word, compared it against his, and then, with his hand in a fist, rapped his daughter hard on the top of her head. Then they tried to recover a few spots in front of them in the line. As they were moving along, I yelled at him, saying that there was no reason for him to hit his kid. He turned around and shouted, “We have our own way of educating our children.” I responded that what he was doing bordered on criminal, especially in everybody’s Happy Place, but he kept going and put some distance between us. So I took off my sunglasses, which were the most expensive but fragile thing I had on me, and handed them off to my queuemate, and then chased old f**kface into the first of the Tower of Terror stalling areas. I caught up to him from behind, laid a very courteous slap on his right shoulder, and (making sure I said this loud enough so that the rest of the docile Tokyo Disneygoers and cast members could hear it) explained, “And you didn’t even thank us for recovering your ticket. Just what kind of education are you talking about?” Of course, there were a few more Japanese F-word equivalents mixed in. I’d gone through a few candidate initial maneuvers in my head in the preceding few seconds, and because he was wearing a horrible blazer with an oversized lapel, I had been giving more passing thought to Osoto-gari than other approaches. But it was a waste, as he immediately and profusely apologized like a pansy. And unfortunately, the rest of the Tower of Terror experience proceeded without incident. That was my adrenaline high point of the day, which kind of made everything else anticlimactic. This goes without saying, but all this time, the only thing the rest of the losers in line could do was wear that “Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room!” expression on their silent faces. But with our second uneventful Tower of Terror ride squared away, it was finally time to enjoy the best of what Tokyo Disney Sea offers: beer.

And for the second part of this post, I visited the Anti-Q. April 12 was sunny and warm, a perfect day to spend at Disney Sea. That's what the other half billion people in the park thought too. OK, to be fair, it was more like 350 million at Disneyland and 150 million at the Sea. Still, it was the first time in about 20 years that I can honestly say I had a good time over there at the old landfill. Best. Disney. Experience. Ever. On the eve of the trip, I will admit to being a little hesitant to hand over yet more money to the Disney and Oriental Land empire. I have tried to like the place, both Land and Sea, on the four occasions I've visited in the last half-year. In fact, in the space of a mere five weeks, we visited Maihama in a wide variety of every permutation possible: solo visit to Land; wife and kids at Land; all family members (humans, that is) at Land; and me and wife at Sea. Unfortunately, we've always felt empty, broke and disappointed after every visit (but at least the kids' smiles made it almost worth it on those two particular occasions). But I decided to try again anyway. For one thing, I figured that it would be my last real chance to hit a park before the 12-day work weeks returned with regularity, and my parkhopping partner-in-crime was about to re-enter dance boot camp as well. Besides, I had a few lingering memories of the last time I felt like I wasn't bleeding money to Iger, which was one I timed a visit to Disney Sea to coincide with the arrival of a typhoon. (That time, the storm kept the people at bay for a precious few hours, during which I nabbed multiple rides on everything that remained open. Then the typhoon subsided enough to embolden the masses, which forced us to take refuge with the expensive, not terribly tasty lunch at a Hotel Miracosta restaurant.) I was going to try to do it the right way this time. I resolved to pay full fare and arrive before the park opening. This wasn't the easiest thing to do on four hours' sleep and a slight hangover, but I was determined to get my money's worth. But once I got to Maihama, and then to the monorail, I started to feel that dark, pithy feeling in my tummy. The crowds everywhere. The faces of frustrated parents and grandparents at 8:30 AM. That "I hate Disneyland" feeling. Of course, "hate" is going much too overboard but it flows off the tongue better than "dislike." I'm not 100% sure why I dislike Disneyland. Yes, cleanliness, efficiency, and orchestration are all good things. But perhaps it's the same reason I don't like even the best of the Spielberg films. Needless to say, I marvel at his witchcraft and ability to create total immersion, but in general I prefer art to leave me a little breathing room. (Not to say that I'm immune to oppressive pure intensity, though. After all, I think of Richter as the greatest pianist in recorded memory.) At least the Disney Sea lines weren't a third as bad as the Land lines. At 8:45 or so we were a couple of hundred people deep in one of maybe a dozen lines, waiting for the 9:00 AM opening. We didn't clear the front gates until a good ten minutes past 9, and then I took off with both of our tickets, heading for the Tower of Terror fastpass shack. I sprinted in the precious few areas where there was enough room to do so, but otherwise had to resort to a poor Barry Sanders impression. At any rate, under no condition was I going to allow myself to come to a walking pace anywhere. I caught a few looks and comments at the edges of my vision and hearing, all conveying some sort of "There's no running at Disneyland" sentiment. Well, I needed some way to get a little exercise at the park to compensate for the uniquitous junk food, so I'm afraid I didn't have much choice. Besides, I hadn't done any running since a short 3-mile session on the prior Tuesday. Just as I neared the fastpass shanty, I caught sight of another sprinter trying to overtake me on my right from a different angle. Fat chance, so I accelerated and blocked him out as necessitated by the rules of engagement. Meanwhile, Kayo did her job and had completed her more comfortably paced jog to the regular queue. This was her first Tower of Terror experience. (No point in describing the rides, I guess.) We hit Journey to the Center of the Earth next, then walked back to Tower of Terror to exercise the fastpasses. And finally the fun part of the day began.

The only reason why I can even think of why you would even mention this is to poke for an argument. Many of us would appreciate the fact that you like the ride far more if you didn't keep throwing the "HA HA! I like the ride and you didn't" thing in our faces all the time. Personally, Fujiyama is my favorite of the three "big" coasters in the park. --Robb Come on guys, it was just a joke. I think I've made that very point many times over about things being ultimately subject to individual taste.

Let me start with my most recent trip, to the Happiest Place on Earth. That's right, Fujikyu Highland. It was a beautiful spring Sunday, the last day of Japanese schoolchildren's spring break. It was guaranteed to be packed. But I had spent the night at my in-laws', already placing me 20 kilometers west or so of the metropolitan part of Tokyo, so I figured that I was all the closer to the Q. So I woke up like a shot at 7AM, hit the road within a half hour after a shower, and at 8:40 was waiting outside the park by my special entrance. 10 minutes or so before the park's 9AM opening, I was in line for Eejanaika. My pal Kayo and her friend had planned their entire spring getaway around this trip, so accordingly they spent the prior night at the official hotel and were already in the queue, where I joined them. Not that it mattered much, because they hadn't done a very good job of running for the first spot in the line. In my attempt to land us the first row, I miscalculated the flow of people and we ended up in the last two. I had inside back, last row, right side (based on boarding area), on the historically shakier-than-even-the-others green train. But it was smooth as a baby's ass. Our impulse was to run for Dodonpa, which was still launching test trains based on what milliseconds I could see of it from Eejanaika. But the Eejanaika lines still looked to be 30 minutes or less, so we elected to line up again, this time on the customarily less-crowded left side. This time, we scored the front rows. Ever the samaritan, I gave up the front row to the two girls and settled for the second. I still enjoyed myself, however, despite the rockiness. It certainly isn't getting any smoother with age, but the Eej undoubtedly remains my favorite ride ever. So now it was time to sprint for Dodonpa. After a 45 minute wait in line on three-car operation, score again -- the precious first row of the greatest acceleration machine on the planet. I gave that up too. But Mt. Fuji was gloriously visible from any seat on the train, and it was a good, cool day to ride the 'Pa. About as good a launch as can be expected from a full car, and pleasing but not terribly uncomfortable ejector airtime at the hilltop. Fujiyama's queue was up to just under an hour, but I took advantage of the situation to down a couple of nice Fujikyu beers. Front row again! And I volunteered it to the girls again. But what the hell, I nabbed the front row last September, and the best airtime is curiously found in the 6th row anyway. I always board Fujiyama expecting to be bored, and I always step off remembering why I (and a lot of other adoring fans not to be found on TPR) like the damn thing. Nice first drop, good variety of elements, decent constancy of speed, etc. So even on the worst of Fujikyu days, I managed two rides on Eejanaika and a ride each on Dodonpa and Fujiyama by 12:05 PM. That gave me about an hour to chow down on a very tasty Fujiyama Burger for the first time ever, and I was headed back to my wife and kids with plenty of time left in the day. The operations weren't bad at all, considering the park's usual standards: they ran 2 trains on both Eejanaika and Fujiyama and 3 on Dodonpa, where they also have at long last instituted a shared-row system (not to be confused with a single rider line). A second trip report will follow later. For now, I'm just too excited by what I've just seen on TV to continue. Now I've watched more MMA in person and on TV in the last 12 years than anybody would care to count, but I've never seen a mounted fighter KO the opponent squatting on his chest. This is spell-binding. And the combatant who had full mount, Hikaru Sato, is anything but unexperienced. One for the history books.