In Which the Author Shamelessly Rips Off the Opening Scene to "Annie Hall"

There's an old joke that sums up the mentality of the Japanese people that most people here seem to know and can laugh about, though I wonder how deeply they take it to heart:

As everyone knows, on its maiden voyage the luxury liner Titanic struck an iceberg and began to sink. The captain realized that there weren't enough lifeboats to hold all of the passengers, and thus had to convince some people to stay behind. He entered a corridor where there was a British passenger, a German passenger, an American passenger, and a Japanese passenger all staying. The first door he knocked on was that of the British passenger.

"The ship is sinking," the captain said, "and, as you know, courtesy says 'Ladies first.'"

"I see," said the British passenger. "I shall stay behind."

The captain next knocked on the door of the German passenger. "The ship is sinking," he said, "and you have to stay behind. It's the rules."

"I see," said the German passenger. "I shall stay behind."

The next door the captain came to was that of the American. "The ship is sinking," the captain said, "and we don't have enough lifeboats. If you stay and let others go in front of you, you will be remembered as a hero!"

"You're right!" said the American with a burst of excitement. "I shall stay behind."

Finally, the captain knocked on the door of the Japanese passenger:

"The ship is sinking," he said, "and everyone else is staying behind. You might as well stay behind too."

There's more wisdom in that joke than in all the rest of my online ramblings about Japan put together.

Captain Zooey Dedalus’s Complete Authoritative Guide to the Kansai Region of Japan (excluding Nara, Wakayama, Mie, and Shiga prefectures)

Picture of the Month

A yellow-skirted maid in Akihabara handing out flyers for what I can only assume is some sort of prostitution front.

Konnichiwa, loyal readers, or Welcome (for those less skilled than I in the subtle arts of the Japanese language) to another thought-provoking installment of Captain Zooey Dedalus’s Adventure Blog; the best source for cultural anthropology-substantiated insight anywhere on the internet. In my last account I reflected on the carelessness of Japanese shoppers and explored the semen-encrusted hallways of a Mito Love Hotel, and this month I am pleased to chronicle my latest and most impressive adventure destination of all: that carefree chunk of Japan known as the Kansai region.



The term Kansai is derived from the Japanese words kan, meaning tin can, and sai, meaning years-old; and is home to some of the friendliest people in Japan (so friendly, in fact, that the store clerks there kept smiling even after I’ve turned my back!). Aside from their jovial demeanor, Kansai people are well-known for abhorring natto, that dish of fermented soybeans mixed with rotten eggs that is Japan’s national food.

Yours truly receiving the 2009 Highly Distinguished Online Anthropological Travel Writing Award in recognition for his contributions to the world of cultural anthropology, regular anthropology, linguistics, literature, pop-culture, history, cultural anthropology, sociology, psychology, and cultural anthropology. Notice the people riding the escalator in the upper left corner of the shot.

Your typical Kansai citizen can be distinguished by his stubbornly ingrained habit of standing on the right side of the escalator, as evidenced by the above photograph. In the Kanto region (i.e., the area between downtown Shinjuku and Narita airport), people always stand on the left side of the escalator, leaving the right side open for those wishing to walk up. In Kansai, it is exactly the opposite! No one knows why Kansai people have adopted this strange custom, but it may be correlated with their natural tendency to drive on the wrong side of the road.

Kobe Harbor, home of the world’s largest spider web.

My first stop in the region was Kobe, which was devastated by a terrible earthquake in 1995 (Chikan 24 in the Japanese calendar). The city has rebuilt itself impressively, and now boosts more overpriced tour cruises than anywhere else in Japan. Kobe obtained fame as a port city after Japan first opened to Western trade after World War II, and many old homes belonging to European merchants still remain. These daring gaijin braved the hazards of Japanese society decades before the deadbeat English teachers and cosplay fanatics arrived on the scene; and here I take the time to thank them. Gaijin of the past, you blazed a trail that made it much easier for us to sleep with hot Japanese women, and for that I salute you.

All of Kyoto’s temples look the same, so I won’t even bother labeling this one.

My next stop was Kyoto, home of some of Japan’s most famous temples and shrines, some of which aren’t even replicas! Since it is not the anthropologist’s job to bother with trivial history long forgotten, I have little to say about this city. I did, however, see a geisha (high-class Japanese prostitute) wandering through the lanes of Kenninji temple near Gion, though her pimp forcefully prevented me from snapping any pictures.

Dotonbori, sort of the Times Square of Osaka (Times Square is a popular area in New York with lots of bright lights and overpriced designer shops) where young people go to view the latest fashions and take pictures of the Glyco Man.

Your narrator journeyed to Osaka primarily to partake of the local dish known as takoyaki (from the Japanese words yaki, meaning grilled, and tako, meaning taco), which I’d heard was the only thing of interest in Osaka. While I didn’t encounter any Mexican restaurants, I did observe (as only the trained anthropologist can) that Osaka is much older than the rest of Japan, with most of the buildings dating back to the mid 1960’s. Strangely, aside from Kyoto’s venerable temples, most Japanese cities have few buildings built before 1945. The true reason for this strange phenomenon remains a mystery, but I am working on a research paper conclusively proving that the Japanese people lived in castles with samurai (a kind of Japanese warrior) until the invention of the rice-cooker necessitated the need for electricity-wired homes.

Anime magazines not intended for those under the age of 18, or for those offended by precocious schoolgirls engaging in sex with multiple partners.

Finally, I encountered a shop in Osaka that specialized in an obscure form of entertainment known as anime, or Japanese cartoons. Now, though I am never one to shy away from even the most revolting of cultural oddities, I had not adequately prepared myself for the overwhelming number of animated nipples that assaulted me the moment I walked into that licentious den of fetishist smut. Traumatizing though the experience was, it did allow me to make the following deduction:

All anime comes from Japan.
All anime is sold in anime shops.
All of the anime sold in anime shops is pornographic.

Therefore, all Japanese anime is pornographic.

Try to argue with that logic, dear readers! Stay tuned for the next installment of my anthropological adventures when I relate my journey to Hiroshima, the site of one of the biggest tragedies of the 20th century: your author has his french fries stolen by a wandering deer.

A Whore by Any Other Name

I hate to shatter anyone's illusions about the Land of the Rising Sun, but not only is prostitution extremely prevalent in Japan, it also goes by really funny names.

The other day I passed a high-priced establishment cutely labeled "Pub" in pink cursive, which a friend (who spoke on condition of anonymity) pointed out was a pink-curtained Japanese club where women pour drinks and flirt with customers. This provoked a descent into the wild Japanese world of Snack Clubs, Girl Bars, and Maid Cafes that cater to men of all ages who share a crippling inability to get laid.

For a quick burst of sexual relief, your average salaryman need go no further than the local Pink Salon (pinkusaron), where girls perform fellatio for around 10,000 yen (about $100). These clubs do oral sex only; if you want to touch, grope, fondle, stroke, or ejaculate on the girls, you should check out your local Health Club (herusucurabu), which are decidedly more hands-on than their Western counterparts. Here, as long as it's not straight vaginal intercourse, a gray area in the Japanese prostitution law says it's okay.

However, the real brothels in Japan are called Soaplands (sopurando) where customers can come inside for a hot bath and some straight-up sex. The name evokes images of suburban outlet stores or some sort of lame Dove theme-park where kids can ride down slides of bubbles. Soaplands stay in business because officially they're just places where men can take a really expensive bath—any other arrangement is between you and the girls. Because naturally, whatever goes on between a man and his highly-paid female bathing masseuse is clearly motivated by love.

There is, of course, a catch: these places don't cater to foreigners. Your average gaijin gets enough tail as it is.

Happy Christmas Fair!

I'd just like to take this opportunity to wish everyone out there a Merry Christmas, and especially to all those expatriates and those who are separated from their loved ones. And to those of you in Japan, Happy Emperor's Birthday. It may not be the most festive of holidays, but it's still worth a mid-week day off. Department store sales aside, how about a little Western-style Christmas cheer?



Christmas Egg Nog

"If Ian can make it, then it must be easy!"

You will need:

- 4 egg yolks
- 5 oz of sweetened condensed milk
- 1 tablespoon white sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla
- 4.5 cups milk
- 4 egg whites
- Nutmeg

Beat egg yolks until smooth. Stir in condensed milk, sugar, vanilla, milk, and stir well. Beat the egg whites until stiff (or as stiff as you can by hand) and add to mixture. Serve cold, garnished with a pinch of nutmeg to taste (and rum, if desired). Makes about 1.5 quarts.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Beware the Green-Eyed Monster!

This may be the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I found it at the stationary shop in Eclan buried behind a display of small gift envelopes. The box was covered in dust and quite faded. Japanese people take Othello pretty seriously, and Toyokazu smoked me without even trying. I'm just happy to have the calender.

Fun Fact for the Day: Othello was invented in the city of Mito, in Ibaraki, Japan.

Learn Japanese with Ian!
osero/ribasi =Othello/Reversi (as it is sometimes called. Personally, I found the former to be much more dignified)

Charisma Man Walks Among Us

click for larger image

I briefly mentioned Charisma Man in an earlier post after Tom introduced me to its greatness, but found it far too brilliant to lay buried in an entry with a half dozen other links no one would bother to click on. The comic ran from about 1998 to 2005 in an old gaijin mag called The Alien (which later became Japanzine), and I'm currently on the lookout for a reasonably priced copy of the out-of-print collected series. (If any gaijin out there can help me on this quest, I'd be much obliged.)

Charisma Man is the epitome of the arrogant, self-interested, ill-qualified English teaching gaijin who flees a humdrum existence in his native country to seek fortune, respect, and lots of hot sex. Upon reaching Japan, he is transformed into a muscular hunk of pure confidence who draws scores of hot females to his side until he encounters his arch-nemesis: Western Woman.

What captured my attention most about this strip is this idea of a misfit gaijin not being able to make it in his home country, and coming to Japan as an easy way to gain power and popularity. Just like Superman on Earth, the most ordinary of Western attributes become extraordinary feats here in Japan. Guys who worked deadbeat jobs back in the West discover that their ability to speak one of the most in-demand languages in the world instantly qualifies them for a high-paying teaching position that demands instant respect from the Japanese people. Those misfits from the Western dating scene can come here and—with the help of a little confidence—win instant attention from females of all ages, sizes, and levels of English ability. The capacity to consume more than three glasses of beer, reach tall items on shelves, accomplish the simplest of home-repair tasks, wield a phallus longer than four inches, and instantly answer colloquial English questions impress people like magic. And even the simplest of Japanese language skill or chopstick handling will never fail to impress a crowd.

But this existence is all a facade. However much his newfound powers boost his ego to superhuman proportions, Western Woman proves that Charisma Man's popularity is all a sham by knocking him back to his true geek status. I see plenty of guys here using their gaijin status just to win girls, but the Charisma Man phenomenon goes deeper than that. Success in Japan for all but the truly qualified is just a lot of smoke and mirrors; most gaijin aren't doing anything that any number of Westerners couldn't do as good or better than themselves (in the classroom or the bedroom). Without real talent you are nothing; and all the colloquial-English in the world won't deliver you real success. Maybe every gaijin needs a Western Woman to hold up the mirror and show him his true form.

Still, for those who can't stand the reality of that mirror, Japan makes a great hiding place. Why face the humiliation of your pathetically-low Western job qualifications when you can make a real salary, sleep with dozens of women, and be worshiped as an eigo no sensei instead?

For more Charisma Man strips, click here or here. This article is also informative reading.

Shameless Bennington Self-Promotion

I recently had an urge to update my contact information on the Bennington Alumni website, and requested a copy of the Alumni Magazine. (Thanks, Dorothy.) Aside from one of Steven's essays on Marlene Dietrich and a few other interesting articles, the magazine was plagued by the usual shameless requests for donations disguised as inspirational banners. One article that I found equally ludicrous was a report on student house renovations, which contained some egregiously poor attempts to describe the character of each house. I'm reposting some of the most ridiculous Facts here:

Kilpatrick
Fact: The house is known for hosting several of the largest annual parties on campus.
This is a really nice way of saying that Kilpat (for only Liz Coleman and the Alumni Magazine refer to the house by its full name) had the honor of hosting the Dress to Get Laid Party, celebrating the day when Bennington upperclassmen can have sex with freshmen every October 1st, debauching the campus every St. Kilpats Day, rigging a bathroom soap dispenser to serve alcohol, and filling a kiddee pool in the common room to use as a skeezy hottub in addition to countless other infamies I'm not even aware of.

Fels
Fact: Has its own washer and dryer and one of the newest kitchens on campus.
This is the most useless fact I could possibly think of to describe a Bennington house. Is Fels really so uninteresting that it has to be described in terms of its appliances?

McCullough
Fact: According to house chairs, McCullough has a very strong house community with an emphasis on food and spontaneity. House members provide a great deal of support for one another.
A contradiction of terms, a sentence that begins with "According to..." can hardly be considered as fact. Poor editing aside, "support" in this sentence actually refers to McCullough residents lending their +10 mana counters when their housemates encounter wandering bands of orcs during Larping tournaments.

Leigh
Fact: The Bennington Free Press says of Coffee Hours at Leigh that "no one knows exactly what goes on here, but everyone wants to be a part of it."
I find this hard to believe, and am pained that this was the best they could come up with for my former residence.

Dewey
Fact: Named after John Dewey, one of the fathers of the progressive education ideals that Bennington was based on.
Dewey is such a cesspool that the writer has decided to retreat behind historical detail rather than risk disgusting everyone with an accurate description.

Finally, last and certainly least:

Wooley
Fact: Legend has it that Bob Dylan once hung out in one of the rooms of the house after he performed at Bennington.
I think you mean "fucked a girl in one of the rooms of the house," yes?