Category: Society & Culture

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Before I took my current job, my girlfriend and I were living in the slums of Osaka (Nishinari-ku), one of the few places in Japan where it’s genuinely dangerous to walk alone at night, and often remembered for the riots that occurred there in semi-recent times (spurred by the police beating a day laborer to death, no less).
We lived in an apartment smaller than I can even try describing in western terms, and the view from our single window consisted of the Hanshin expressway, and truck horns blared long into the night. Living with another person in such a cramped space is actually quite bonding if you get along well (and let’s be honest, if it’s all you can afford, you tend to make do somehow). The biggest joke was the name of the apartment complex: “Beverly Hills.” It was written in this ultra-tacky katakana lettering across the top of the building, a testament to that immediately recognizable design trend around the world that, in half-heartedly emulating gild and glitz, positively screams, “GHETTO!”
We liked the vibe of that area because there was never a dull moment; on any given day you might see people brawling in the middle of the street with cars whizzing by both ways, or police on foot pursuit of a shoplifter in a Keystone Cop-like sequence complete with whistle-blowing action and the command to “Stop! We are POLICE!” (arguably the best reason not to stop, but…). My all-time favorite memory from our hood, however, was the time when a group of local toughs were hanging out on the curb, passing around a monster bottle of cheap sake while randomly shooting roman candles off at passing cars – and then beating the shit out of anyone who stopped to complain. They actually made one guy hand over money and apologize for the grave transgression of – I swear, this was the exact phrase – “hitting and ruining their precious fireworks with his shitty car.” (hmm? That last part might be better expressed in a movie than in writing – I think Takeshi, for one, could pull it off. Tarantino would go overboard on props like a +2 damage wakizashi with sharkskin scabbard and Iridium Edo inlay, and other directors of the “pearl licker persuasion” would have Chow Yun or, heaven forbid, Jet Li acting the part of “Japanese Salaryman Pulled Suddenly from Car, Slapped.” Y’all might get away with taking absolutely heinous liberties with the memoirs of a certain (AHEM!) Chinese (AHEM!) geisha, but not so with mine.)
Yeah, good old Nishinari-ku (the “-ku” suffix is literally translated as “ward”). So many memories – we actually lived in an area called Tamade. Tamade is famous for pachinko because the kanji for tama means “balls” and de means “to come out,” so this is an auspiciously named area (Whether this area was named specifically for pachinko in the modern era, or if the “balls coming out” is a reference to some strange Meiji era sexual practice involving love beads, I do not know^*. I am guessing it’s the former since much of the area burnt down during the war) for it. There were a lot of elderly pachipro in those parlors, and sometimes they would give up really surprising tricks of the trade if they took a liking to you. Nam was once able to buy a ticket back to Thailand with a night’s winnings after an old guy tipped her off to a “sleeper.” Another guy showed me how to jackpot a certain type of machine with a keitai, but I never worked up the nerve to try it – for some reason I always equated getting caught at cheating with that ball-peen hammer scene in Casino.
^*although this might help explain “Pearl Jam”
END OF PART ONE

This was a new one for me – a public toilet with no manual flushing mechanism at all. The pictured unit is a remote mounted on the wall. Stupid, stupid idea. For instance, what happens if the batteries run out? Technological “advances” like this just cause unneeded stress for the user.
Hey, I wonder if TOTO is looking for a toilet design consultant who can issue real-life testing reports in EN/JP (props to anyone who can effectively translate “blumpy,” “spatter effect,” and “logjam” into another language)… I was born to do that job.

In the race toward cultural insensitivity, Japan proves to be a proud contender once again! Next month, Japanese publisher Zuiunsha will revive the Japanese version of Little Black Sambo: LINK

I’m buying, like, a thousand copies to hand out in place of business cards.

1. People who test ringtones in public.
2. People who cut you off because you decided to drive “nice” today.
3. The phantom butt itch (in public – in private it’s scratchable).
4. Cheerful people on Monday mornings.
5. Cheerful people in general.
6. People.
7. The absence of napkins at many (most?) restaurants in Japan.
8. High society types from Tochigi who pronounce “Tochigi” differently than everyone else.
9. Computer-retarded Powerbook snobs.
10. Gossipy office harpies that spend lunchbreaks painting their faces like whores and have a cow over me “tapping” the copier when it gets jammed and won’t reset.

I am in the middle of researching the most important subject I will ever post on – that’s right! – even more important than Japanese fish sausage, although if you are the astute type, you already suspect that Japanese fish sausage is somehow involved. You are correct.
Hint: No, I am not covering the 500-foot tall Hello Kitty statue made of squid rings and rapeseed flowers to be erected in Sumoto this weekend.
Also, I am NOT writing about the prime minister of Japan getting a handjob from the US ambassador to the chrysanthemum court in spite of beef imports continuing to be banned (the real reason for this is that Japanese like tough Aussie beef better; just ask any skank you feel up at GasPanic this weekend).

No matter how much amusement it would have provided in the years to come, I could not, in good conscience, allow an acquaintance to name his new children’s English conversation school “Neverland.”
Update: I’m already too late to save this place.

An interview with Aeon CEO Motoya Okada:
Japan’s Answer to Wal-Mart?
Excerpt:

Q: So what can you do to resolve this?
A: Well, we will continue to enhance our supply chain and reduce costs, [so savings] can be passed back to our customers. We can also enhance our private brand.

Well, they’ve certainly got the corporate rhetoric down…
I personally think that most of the products marketed under Aeon’s TopValu brand is noticeably inferior to competing brands. They can’t even make decent green tea or dishsoap, which, as you might imagine, are fairly important items for the average Japanese consumer.

I have quite a few relatives in Japan, and have met many of them over the course of my stay here. They are all from my father’s side of the family, because the wealthy snobs on my mother’s side cut off contact with their American relatives years ago. I have not tried to get in touch, either – although I’ve made plans to several times, it’s not really that important to me, I guess. I get busy and forget about it, you know how it goes.
I’m quite close with a few of my second cousins (on my father’s side). I go visit them in Nara sometimes, and we hang out. It’s just nice having relations around sometimes… I think of this as an added bonus for Nikkei since most of us don’t have the “blue-eyed, blonde-haired gaijin” looks and benefits associated with such in Japan.
Anyway. I’m in a difficult situation now, or rather, my cousin is. She told me about it a couple weeks ago, and I really haven’t stopped thinking about it since then. Her parents have set up a marriage of convenience for her. She is unwilling – she has a boyfriend, among other things. But her parents are unrelenting. These facts alone create several different problems and no easy solution. There are other factors involved, but this is as detailed as I’m comfortable with, for now.
First off, I told her not to elope with her boyfriend in haste. Such youth does not mix well with impromptu life decisions, and I can say that because I know. Luckily, she wasn’t really considering that anyway so I didn’t have to convince her too hard. In fact, she is now pursuing the best course of action possible, and we covered it in detail that day.
Basically, I gave her my support. There is nothing else I can do at the moment. I respect her parents and understand their motivation, but I support their daughter, which, by the way, is what I think they would want of me, as well. I know them well. It is not for lack of understanding or compassion that they would marry their daughter to a person she has never met.
My cousin expressed regret that there is no happy ending to this situation. I told her that you can’t make everyone happy, and that the real Japanese way to handle this – a dual skinny dip in icy water via Osamu Dazai – might be just a bit dramatic. She laughed out loud, and the sound of it made everything better for a instant.
We are keeping in touch, and when I think about this it consumes me.
….
For the time being, I ask anyone who reads this post to refrain from acknowledging it in the real world to anyone but me. There is zero chance of it affecting the situation at hand, but it will piss me off anyway. Meanwhile, thanks for lending an ear.

… where people often get shanked.
I never used to be fazed by shit like this in the news because over the years I just became numb to it. When you first start living in Japan, it is hard to understand why the people can be selflessly polite and compassionate on one hand, and yet were feared as such ruthless self-disembowling baby killer rape-happy sadists not so long ago. One hint that perhaps not all is well in modern times, either, is the frequency of shockingly violent/sadistic/twisted incidents reported in the Japanese media. It seems like we hear about classroom slashings, group suicides, and heart-wrenching abuse cases on an almost daily basis, and I just got conditioned to it. I ceased thinking about it for many years.
Then, last year, my sister was stalked up the stairs to her apartment in Osaka. Her quavering voice on the phone, just after it happened, is burned into my memory forever. After the initial wave of brotherly concern/homicidal rage subsided within me, dark feelings started sinking in again. About how the fucked up shit you hear on TV doesn’t just happen to strangers. About how powerless you can be in the face of fate, no matter what precautions are taken or irrelevant “what are the odds” pontifications.
My sister went home to the states in the summer, but to this day, whenever I see a headline about a stabbing at a school in Osaka (way too often), I get that sinking feeling in my gut, my jaw clenches shut, and I taste copper. Time slows down and my shoulders start to feel heavy… But when I snap out of it, I realize my fists are clenched, my teeth ache from grinding together, and I seriously want to destroy some motherfuckers.