[Tales Of The Unexpected Subtitles
Rancul Ratha
I bought the game on PC yesterday through steam , and when i sarted it it was all in russian or something. ive gone through all the options tabs and clicked more or less everything, but the language doesnt change. so how do i fix it?
edit: the dialogue choices in season 1 are all in russian. in season 2, everything but the options and main menu are in english
edit 2: the options when you roll over something to interact with are russian. this is getting ridiculous
Can you please specify from which store you acquired the game? We have not localized either Season One or Season Two in Russian, so it would be impossible for the game to output Russian subtitles on an official release. Also, in the case of Season Two, the only store that sells the Steam version of the game is Steam itself. So if you acquired these games through a third party reseller, we can identify whether or not it was an official partner of ours. Please be aware that there are other resellers out there who sell illegally acquired game codes, and using these codes can lead to game being removed from your account or even your Steam account being banned by Valve. Additionally, there are many sites that offer edited game files so they can play the game in other languages that are not currently available. If you've acquired one of these data packs, this could also lead to unexpected subtitle changes during gameplay.
I just bought it right off the steam store when i saw it was on sale. but the further i go, the more english it gets, strangely. menus aside, i just started episode 4 and even the intro was english (it wasnt for episodes 1-3). as far as i know, i just bought the game and started once it installed
If you are still seeing parts of the game in Russian, could you please read this Sticky on how to run our Support Tool, and follow the steps to run the tool, and reply here with the download link copied and pasted into a reply. You can find the Sticky here:
As a die-hard Studio Ghibli fanboy, I always feel like I'm way behind when I finally see the latest film they originally released a year ago in Japan. But I'm so glad I finally caught up with Isao Takahata's The Tale of Princess Kaguya, originally released in Japan in November of 2013, but just now making its way to North America thanks to the Toronto Film Festival. I'm even happier I saw the original version with Japanese dialogue and English subtitles, the way it was meant to be seen, rather than the dubbed version coming up for the US. It's a wonderful film, incredibly charming and so much fun to watch. Of course, the animation is remarkably beautiful, unlike anything I've seen before - hand-animated to look like old watercolor scrolls.
Based on the classic Japanese folk story of The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, the film tells the full story of the life of Princess Kaguya on Earth. Found glowing inside a bamboo stalk by a humble bamboo cutter, his life is suddenly changed and he decides to raise the beautiful girl with his wife. She grows up very quickly, a bit mischievous and preferential to rolling around with animals and nature than any other humans, but is so beautiful she suddenly becomes the object of affection for the most powerful men in Japan. Brought into the royal world, her parents try to make her into the princess she is supposed to be, but she prefers to be goofy, free-spirited and anti-establishment, which leads to all kinds of trouble. You'll laugh and never stop smiling.
While the film is obviously aimed at a younger audience, it's one of those timeless stories told perfectly that connect with any person of any age. I am curious how much it's influenced by a free-spirited shift in Japan, or rather is the influencer of that shift, in-so-much that it supports eschewing formalities and plays up the idea of being free. Like the wind, like nature, like the beasts, and birds, and bees. Watching her act this way, while keeping it light so kids are never bored, is so much fun. That's not to say it doesn't have a serious side, about how society tells us that we have to act a certain way when sometimes it's better to be free, to act on our will. The best scenes are the ones where she reacts in unexpected ways and everyone else is baffled.
With so much recent discussion about the future of Studio Ghibli, it's refreshing to just sit back, relax and enjoy a wonderful film from the studio. Takahata is a tremendously talented filmmaker who can balance many different aspects: the beauty of animation, the rigors of society, the delicacies of storytelling, and the entertainment value of cinema. He does so with such elegance that it's at times breathtaking, other times touching, but always thoroughly fulfilling to watch The Tale of Princess Kaguya. The animation alone, so marvelously realized with moments that will leave you in awe, is worth your time. Ghibli ain't done yet, and even though their future may be uncertain, at least the astonishing quality of their work remains consistent.
Reviews in American History 31.3 (2003) 372-378 // -->
[Access article in PDF] The Measure of Ourselves Sara Stidstone Gronim Andro Linklater. Measuring America: How an Untamed Wilderness Shaped the United States and Fulfilled the Promise of Democracy. New York: Walker & Company, 2002. 310 pp. Figures, appendix, notes, bibliography, and index. $26.00 A story in which both Henry VIII and NASA make appearances is bound to intrigue historians. In Measuring America, Andro Linklater offers the history of the measurement of all sorts of things. The book delivers on the promise of its two-word title by telling the surprisingly lively tale of the development and adoption of various forms of measurement from the period of settlement to the present. The subtitle, however, promises both a political exceptionalism and a technological triumphalism on which the author cannot deliver. In trying to contextualize measurement, Linklater sometimes offers plausible insights but more often makes grand claims that will sit uneasily with professional historians and for which they will certainly want more evidence.
The title reveals the author's hope of positioning the book to capture the audience that made Dava Sobel's Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time (1995) an unexpected bestseller. Sobel's book introduced readers to a problem that few likely knew had been a problem: the difficulties inherent in finding one's east-west position when out on the featureless expanse of the ocean. She told a compelling tale of how John Harrison, a modest clockmaker, developed a solution. The success of Longitude has encouraged a spate of imitators such as Simon Winchester with his The Map That Changed the World: William Smith and the Birth of Modern Geology (2001). Like these authors, Linklater is attempting to offer a story of the satisfyingly concrete, how things really work and how we came to know them. These popularizations of the history of science and technology all run up against similar problems. Narratives of technological innovation are impossible to disentangle from questions of reception and dissemination, of meaning and significance, in short, of their relationships to the deep structures of culture. These authors are offering yet another version of "great men" history, albeit with modest clockmakers, geologists, and surveyors as the heroes, but their claims for the significance of these men are [End Page 372] often too broad and their use of these men as lenses through which to understand larger historical processes is often too simplistic.
Measurement is an appealing subject for those who want to tell tales of solutions to material problems. In medieval Europe people developed measurements that were based on the human body's experiences of the natural world, some of which we still use. We still measure a horse's height in hands and the length of lumber in feet. All of these measures were peculiarly local, as virtually all trade was local. As Linklater explains, the pressure to standardize measures of all sorts rose in tandem with the centralization of political power and the expansion of trade, although the process extended over centuries and, indeed, is not altogether complete to this day. Unsurprisingly, the early modern Dutch were the most successful at standardizing the weights and measures that facilitated their long-distance commerce. Equally unsurprisingly, the English led the way in standardized land surveying in response the sudden availability of land after Henry VIII's expropriation of church property and the embrace of enclosure by the landed classes. Slowly, a barrel in Amsterdam came to hold the same volume of fish as a barrel in Aruba, an acre of land in Yorkshire came to extend over the same area as an acre in Virginia.
In the early sixteenth century, Edmund Gunter, an English mathematician and astronomer, helped codify the procedures for land surveying that would help landowners document their titles and optimize their returns. Along the way he developed a measuring chain of one hundred links with a length of sixty-six feet. Sixty-six feet is an odd length, until one realizes its relationship to an acre. A "daywork" (the...
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