Saturday, August 25, 2007
Just Now On TV
Just now on TV they showed a boat in Tokyo where you can throw weddings for your dogs. There are dresses, collars to exchange, dog-friendly cakes, a white guy in a priest suit, and at the end they paw-stamp a wedding license and the crew of the boat showers them in confetti. At the end of the piece, the price (16,000 yen/ about $135?) came on the screen and Naoya's reaction was "Oh, we could do that!"
Friday, August 24, 2007
This post has nothing to do with Japan.
A few years ago I was living in Bucharest, Romania and working as an administrator for a bunch of whiny American college students. I loved Romania (especially the calzones), but my students hated it, though I never really understood why. Here is the story of one crisp March morning in Bucharest:
It was a Saturday (no classes), so I got up late and took the subway two stops to meet up with my students. On the train, I was standing at a pole between two doors, when the men on either side of new started pulling several large knives out of their coats. Though I had a vague sense that they weren't there to stab me, I was still quite surprised when they began to juggle the knives on a moving train. Because this kind of spectacle can only be enjoyed in countries that allow large knives on the subway, I decided to stay put and take in the cultural experience, which is when the two men started throwing the knives back and forth between them, which just happened to be where I was standing. Eventually the train arrived at my stop, and I excused myself from the cloud of flying blades (they asked for a tip, but I declined as I was concerned that their little show may not have been entirely safe).
In the subway station, as with nearly every subway station, there was a lonely old musician playing for change, but in this particular case it just so happened to be a violinist playing the saddest song I had ever heard in the middle of a long, empty underground passage. He got a tip.
From the exit, I followed one of those "American Beauty" flying plastic bags around the corner towards the school where my students were staying, and came upon a rather bizarre scene. Two middle-aged women were leaning out of a second story window dangling a string with what appeared to be a hook-shaped, black sausage on the end and laughing hysterically. On the street, and old woman with a can was leaping at the sausage and cursing up a storm. Every time the old woman lunged, the two women upstairs would pull the sausage-looking thing just out of her reach, until at last she caught it, snapped the string with her teeth, tucked the object into her purse and walked away, pausing only to shake her fist up at the window. The women upstairs laughed even harder, pulled up the string and lowered it again with something else hanging off of it, and I walked on.
Around the next corner, not ten yards away, I got stuck behind a slow-moving funeral procession, in which all of the mourners walked behind the coffin, which was on the back of a flatbed truck. The procession eventually stopped at the church across the street from the school where my students were staying, and some pallbearers picked up the coffin and entered the church, only to be chased out by the priest. The priest pointed frantically at the coffin, and then at the truck, and the pallbearers set the coffin down on the truck and removed the lid. they then picked up the coffin again, and again were stopped at the door by the priest. Seemingly unflustered, the pallbearers returned the casket to the truck, and then carried just the lid inside. By that point, all of the mourners had entered and, as the church bell sounded, I was alone on the street with the lidless casket. I looked down, and I was standing on a filthy chest x-ray labeled "Pavel". Naturally, I took Pavel home with me.
It was a Saturday (no classes), so I got up late and took the subway two stops to meet up with my students. On the train, I was standing at a pole between two doors, when the men on either side of new started pulling several large knives out of their coats. Though I had a vague sense that they weren't there to stab me, I was still quite surprised when they began to juggle the knives on a moving train. Because this kind of spectacle can only be enjoyed in countries that allow large knives on the subway, I decided to stay put and take in the cultural experience, which is when the two men started throwing the knives back and forth between them, which just happened to be where I was standing. Eventually the train arrived at my stop, and I excused myself from the cloud of flying blades (they asked for a tip, but I declined as I was concerned that their little show may not have been entirely safe).
In the subway station, as with nearly every subway station, there was a lonely old musician playing for change, but in this particular case it just so happened to be a violinist playing the saddest song I had ever heard in the middle of a long, empty underground passage. He got a tip.
From the exit, I followed one of those "American Beauty" flying plastic bags around the corner towards the school where my students were staying, and came upon a rather bizarre scene. Two middle-aged women were leaning out of a second story window dangling a string with what appeared to be a hook-shaped, black sausage on the end and laughing hysterically. On the street, and old woman with a can was leaping at the sausage and cursing up a storm. Every time the old woman lunged, the two women upstairs would pull the sausage-looking thing just out of her reach, until at last she caught it, snapped the string with her teeth, tucked the object into her purse and walked away, pausing only to shake her fist up at the window. The women upstairs laughed even harder, pulled up the string and lowered it again with something else hanging off of it, and I walked on.
Around the next corner, not ten yards away, I got stuck behind a slow-moving funeral procession, in which all of the mourners walked behind the coffin, which was on the back of a flatbed truck. The procession eventually stopped at the church across the street from the school where my students were staying, and some pallbearers picked up the coffin and entered the church, only to be chased out by the priest. The priest pointed frantically at the coffin, and then at the truck, and the pallbearers set the coffin down on the truck and removed the lid. they then picked up the coffin again, and again were stopped at the door by the priest. Seemingly unflustered, the pallbearers returned the casket to the truck, and then carried just the lid inside. By that point, all of the mourners had entered and, as the church bell sounded, I was alone on the street with the lidless casket. I looked down, and I was standing on a filthy chest x-ray labeled "Pavel". Naturally, I took Pavel home with me.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Future Ex-Wife #62
Tomoko Kawase is the lead singer and lyricist of one of my favorite Japanese bands, the brilliant green. However, I am in love with her more for her solo projects. Most recently, she has been a solo-rocker named Tommy Heavenly6, but prior to that she was Tommy February6, the coolest synth-pop artist in the Universe. The awesomeness of Tommy February6 lies in the concept behind the character: according to Naoya, Ms. Kawase (notice I do not use her married name--to do so would be admitting defeat) modeled the character on her perception of a lame, unpopular, Lisa Frank-type American teenage girl. Below is my favorite of her videos, but those interested should also do a youtube search for "Every Day at the Bus Stop".
What else is awesome about Tommy February6? Her two trademarks: pink microphone and hip flask. Genius.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Omae nanka, nigitte yaru!*
*I will fucking squish you into a little brick of rice suitable for sushi, ass-face! (loosely translated)
I am currently in love with two Japanese TV dramas. Unlike back in 'merica, series here only run for one season, during which they tell a complete story (this is why Naoya gets so frustrated with Lost, which he suspects will never have a satisfying ending). The first of my loves, Hana Zakari No Kimitachi E (Tuesdays at 9 on Fuji TV), is the story of a girl who impersonates her male friend and enters a high school for hot boys (and ONLY hot boys) and then falls in love with her roommate. The school nurse is gay and thus recognized her instantly for what she was, but was intrigued and decided not to rat her out. One of the subplots involves a boy who falls in love with her (and gets a nosebleed every time she does something effeminate) and begins trying to accept himself as a homosexual. Every episode also features some kind of competition when the top guys of the school try to prove that they are the sexiest, such as when they recently competed to see who could bring the most sexy girls to a beach party. I am convinced that the main character is perhaps the most obvious girl in the history of cross-dressing, but Naoya says that there were boys in his high school who looked like that.
Second is Sushi Oji, The Prince of Sushi (TV Asahi, Friday at 10, I think), the catch phrase of which is the title of this post. Sushi Oji is the story of a boy who abandons his family's tradition of becoming sushi masters in order to become a karate champion, but destiny inevitably draws him back into the seedy world of competitive sushi-ing. There's a lot of fighting and magical martial-arts action, such as Sushi Oji's father using a battle stance to shape a sushi out of a poop and a leaf. I haven't watched this show often enough to know everything (it's hard to stay home and watch TV on Friday night), but apparently fish eyes drive Sushi Oji into a battle frenzy. In last week's episode, he was about to be attacked by 10 bad guys when his assistant through a tuna head at him. His fury reached new levels and his battle power caused a solar eclipse. Sushi Oji is played by Koichi Domoto, one half of Japan's ugliest and lamest boyband, KinKi Kids, a name which is much less exciting than it sounds.
I am currently in love with two Japanese TV dramas. Unlike back in 'merica, series here only run for one season, during which they tell a complete story (this is why Naoya gets so frustrated with Lost, which he suspects will never have a satisfying ending). The first of my loves, Hana Zakari No Kimitachi E (Tuesdays at 9 on Fuji TV), is the story of a girl who impersonates her male friend and enters a high school for hot boys (and ONLY hot boys) and then falls in love with her roommate. The school nurse is gay and thus recognized her instantly for what she was, but was intrigued and decided not to rat her out. One of the subplots involves a boy who falls in love with her (and gets a nosebleed every time she does something effeminate) and begins trying to accept himself as a homosexual. Every episode also features some kind of competition when the top guys of the school try to prove that they are the sexiest, such as when they recently competed to see who could bring the most sexy girls to a beach party. I am convinced that the main character is perhaps the most obvious girl in the history of cross-dressing, but Naoya says that there were boys in his high school who looked like that.
Second is Sushi Oji, The Prince of Sushi (TV Asahi, Friday at 10, I think), the catch phrase of which is the title of this post. Sushi Oji is the story of a boy who abandons his family's tradition of becoming sushi masters in order to become a karate champion, but destiny inevitably draws him back into the seedy world of competitive sushi-ing. There's a lot of fighting and magical martial-arts action, such as Sushi Oji's father using a battle stance to shape a sushi out of a poop and a leaf. I haven't watched this show often enough to know everything (it's hard to stay home and watch TV on Friday night), but apparently fish eyes drive Sushi Oji into a battle frenzy. In last week's episode, he was about to be attacked by 10 bad guys when his assistant through a tuna head at him. His fury reached new levels and his battle power caused a solar eclipse. Sushi Oji is played by Koichi Domoto, one half of Japan's ugliest and lamest boyband, KinKi Kids, a name which is much less exciting than it sounds.
Monday, August 6, 2007
One Man's Treasure
A week ago, Naoya and I set out to visit the Adult Treasure Expo in Chiba City near Tokyo. The Expo was held at Makuhari Messe (the same place where Live Earth Tokyo was held), which is a gigantic complex of convention centers and auditoriums. Despite being one of the year's largest adult goods trade shows, it was very poorly advertised and had almost no signage, which meant that every time we set out to find it, we invariably arrived at "Follow in Christ's Footsteps 2008." Afraid to alert the Christians to the presence of several thousand dildos in their vicinity, we finally asked a janitor, who put us on the right track.
Upon entering the Expo, we were immediately greeted with a giant poster of "The Maeve," which shares a name with my favorite Irish lass.
Naoya and Maeve and Naoya and "Maeve"A few highlights from the Expo:
Some nice Americans from Fucking Machines invited me to touch their tongue chainsaw.
A Japanese businessman demonstrated the latest handjob robots. Apparently, you connect them to your DVD player and they sync-up with the rhythm of any pump-action happening in the film.
Perhaps the most amazing piece of technology present was cleverly disguised as a bowling ball and pin on one side and a microphone on the other. The device is designed for couples sustaining long-distance relationships, and works as follows: the couple establishes a video web chat; the girl plugs the "microphone" into her computer, and the boy plugs the "bowling ball" into his. The top of the microphone unscrews to reveal a lifelike phallus head, while the bottom of the bowling pin pulls away to reveal a synthetic vagina. Then, through the miracle of the internet, everything that the girl does to the microphone is experienced by the boy via the bowling pin. We tested this, each insert a finger into the pin and squeezing the microphone, and it was remarkable.
Finally, on a sad note, I discovered only after paying my one-day entrance fee for Saturday that Sunday's headlining stage act was none other than Boys II Men. I guess now we know where the end of the road is.
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