After watching a Giants exhibition game, the author reflects on a TBS NewsBird broadcast featuring Masayoshi Takemura. Through personal experiences with temples in Ōtsu—contrasting Mii-dera and Ishiyama-dera—the essay explores cultural decay, political influence, and judicial decisions, culminating in the suspension ruling on the Takahama nuclear plant.

2016-03-13

Yesterday, I had recorded a Giants exhibition game on CS broadcasting.
After the game ended, a program called TBSニュースバード came on.
武村正義 and a Democratic Party lawmaker appeared.

“So, it’s Masayoshi Takemura,” I thought.

When Japanese Buddhist culture was on the brink of collapse during the anti-Buddhist movement of the Meiji Restoration, it was エルネスト・フェノロサ who saved it.
That is why I respect him deeply.
There was a time when I regularly visited 三井寺.
Mii-dera is located in the government district of Ōtsu, where the city hall stands.
As readers know, after learning that Fenollosa’s grave lies at the sub-temple Hōmyō-in nearby, I visited it several times.

These days, however, I hardly ever go to Mii-dera.
By contrast, I visit 石山寺 at least ten times a year.

Mii-dera is a temple that strangely carries the scent of the judiciary.
Despite that, a sub-temple immediately to its right went bankrupt, and on its former site an obscure religious corporation headquartered in Kōka City has brazenly established itself.
Hearing that a bizarre murder involving a woman occurred in this area only deepened my aversion.
In my impression, Ōtsu City is, above all, deeply suspicious.

The aforementioned Hōmyō-in is little more than a dilapidated temple.
Yet there stands a large stone monument praising Masayoshi Takemura.
I thought to myself what a shameless and vulgar man he must be.
As matters stand, he is a major power-broker in Ōtsu City.
He is a man who resembles 朝日新聞 itself.
He is also a senior figure in the Democratic Party.
And at the 大津地方裁判所 located in this same area, a provisional injunction was issued to suspend Kansai Electric Power’s Takahama nuclear plant.