Designing concept cars seems kind of like being back in grade school, when kids are encouraged to dream up things like a bedroom with a bouncy-house floor or a spaceship with an ice cream machine on board. At least concept cars have a chance of making it to production at some point, even if that timeline is a long way off. At Kia's EV Day in Barcelona, Spain in March, the brand unveiled a new modular electric van it's calling the Platform Beyond Vehicle (PBV). The PV5 is the first in the automaker's plan, with four variants: Cargo, Passenger, Crew, and a Wheelchair Access Vehicle option. The designers pushed that a little further with the PV5 WKNDR concept, an EV made for camping and overlanding.

Mayu Iizuka sheds her soft-spoken personality and starts cackling, screaming and waving wildly in a makeshift studio in Tokyo as her avatar appears on a livestream before hundreds of fans. Virtual YouTubers like Iizuka, who voices and animates a character called Yume Kotobuki, have transformed a niche Japanese subculture into a thriving industry where top accounts can rake in more than a million dollars (¥130 million) a year. The videos are designed to make fans feel as if they are interacting directly with their favorite animated idols -- with some viewers paying hundreds of dollars to have a single comment highlighted during a livestream. "When I'm playing video games on my channel and succeed at something, my fans congratulate me" and pay tips "as a way to show their support and appreciation," Iizuka told AFP. The 26-year-old uses a laptop, webcam and a motion sensor worn around her neck to appear on screen as Yume, whose facial expressions are controlled by a producer. With her squeaky voice, short skirt and huge purple eyes, Iizuka's avatar follows a popular model for "VTuber" characters, which often resemble the hyperfeminine heroines of Japanese anime.

A Tokyo-based risk management firm is cautioning against a potential surge in coronavirus-related disinformation on April Fools' Day, alarmed by the recent spread of what it perceives to be baseless rumors on social media that the government is secretly preparing for the start of a Tokyo lockdown that day. Unsubstantiated rumors pertaining to COVID-19 have been swirling online for months, but gossip with a more urgent tone and more fear-mongering in nature has emerged in recent days, making digital literacy against false rumors more important than ever, according to Tokyo-based Spectee Inc. The firm says it uses cutting-edge artificial intelligence to monitor, collect and analyze the deluge of online information. "Previously, the most common types of coronavirus-related misinformation and disinformation we would see were primarily medical and health-related, as in, 'granite has the power to kill the virus,' or'drinking lukewarm water is effective against the virus,'" said Kenjiro Murakami, head of Spectee. But as the number of COVID-19 cases has risen and the prospect of a citywide lockdown -- floated by Tokyo Gov. Yuriko Koike as a possibility -- loomed large over Japan last week, Murakami said the firm detected a rise in rumors over the weekend that go far beyond misguided health tips.

Late one Friday night in early November, Jun Rekimoto, a distinguished professor of human-computer interaction at the University of Tokyo, was online preparing for a lecture when he began to notice some peculiar posts rolling in on social media. Apparently Google Translate, the company's popular machine-translation service, had suddenly and almost immeasurably improved. Rekimoto visited Translate himself and began to experiment with it. He had to go to sleep, but Translate refused to relax its grip on his imagination. Rekimoto wrote up his initial findings in a blog post.

Rekimoto wrote up his initial findings in a blog post (it's in Japanese language, so I can't find it to link to it). First, he compared a few sentences from two published versions of "The Great Gatsby", Takashi Nozaki's 1957 translation and Haruki Murakami's more recent iteration, with what this new Google Translate was able to produce. Murakami's translation is written "in very polished Japanese", Rekimoto explained to me later via email, but the prose is distinctively "Murakami-style." By contrast, Google's translation -- despite some "small unnaturalness" -- reads to him as "more transparent". The second half of Rekimoto's post examined the service in the other direction, from Japanese to English.