Status Updates From Privateers (The Grand Tour,...

The other Cabinet officers were arrayed around the table, a neatly picked balance of whites, blacks and Hispanics, men and women.

Jesus the racism keeps going.

“The Latin father, upholding the honor of his family,” Dan said. “You’d better have security check him out for weapons when he gets here.”

I swear race enters into every fucking interaction if someone isn't white in this book. I can't wait to hit 30% so I drop it

Yamagata took a felt-tip pen from his desk and signed his name both in roman script and Japanese hiragana characters.

Jesus Christ dude. But, also shouldn't that be jitsuin, like the kind you'd store in a bank?

Dan reached for his teacup again. It was blood red, with a tiny white heron painted in flight. Before he could put the cup down, the light paper shoji screen to his right slid back and a tall, slim, smiling Japanese youth in his early twenties stepped into the room.

Gotta remind you we're in Japan.

Dan sat on the straw mats of Saito Yamagata’s living room floor, sipping hot Japanese tea and trying to convince himself that it was four o’clock in the afternoon and not three in the morning. The room was virtually bare of furnishings; nothing but an exquisitely lacquered low table bearing the tea service, and a pair of matched silk paintings on the walls to either side.

We're in japan, it's very Japanese.