Tokyo Urban Decay

There is a Danchi housing estate complex in Tokyo that walk through every night to shave 5 minutes off my commute. If you don't know what a Danchi is, then good for you. Just picture the British council estates in The Bill or 'The Projects' in the US, minus of course the crime, drugs, and violence.

 

Even in the darkness I have always been utterly captivated by its sheer ugliness.

  

Ive always wanted to have a good look at it in the daylight so this morning I got up really early and spent 30 minutes walking through it. Given the early hour, it was absolutely deserted and deathly quite.  

I am not sure if too many people actually live there anyway.  Certainly no one who that wants to anyway.

  

The waist high grass and weeds, the diabolical looking Soviet cookie cutter design, to be completely honest the whole lonely scene reminded me that abandoned city of Prypiat that was abandoned in the Ukraine after the '86  nuclear meltdown in Chernobyl.

  

Even though there are some signs of habitation like lights at night, the whole place gives off a stench of decay, despair, and neglect.

The grass is overgrown to a meter or so in most parts, adding to a feeling of abandonment. Like something out of eastern Europe before the iron curtain fell.

What people there are seem to be getting on with it the best they can. I certainly hope none have to stay longer absolutely necessary.

 All throughout the complex there seems to be an intense battle being waged between the decorative plants and flowers placed by humans, and the naturally occurring forest flowers, weeds, and waste high grass.

  

Despite the beauty of these flowers, the strangest thing happens. Somehow the foul, decrepit atmosphere of the housing complex manages to pollute their radiance. It was sort of like looking at a beautifully crafted designer bag by Louis Vuitton or Gucci for sale in a pawn shop. Somehow, it just seemed cheap and dirty.

As if to rub peoples nose in it further, the city has installed a playground fashioned from industrial use concrete tubing, steel scaffolding pipes, and old tires.

 

There is a river flowing nearby with all these strange, it has these huge industrial concrete blocks through it as though was an existing structure that the river is slowly eroding away. there before the river.

  

Walking past this place on my way to and from work everyday will be a good thing. I hope I never end up in a place like this.

Frank the Japanese Copper

Strolling about recently in Saitama recently, looking to enjoy a bit more of spring before it gets too hot for me to be walking about in the sun. If only there where more nice days like this.

As is often my fancy, this particular day had me heading towards a brand new shopping center. It was only 3pm but I was already half tanked on whisky.

It was then I met a very nice, young police sergeant. His name was Frank. Frank is in charge of a very safe, quite area next to the Shin-misato LaLaport.

Frank isn’t like other Japanese policemen. He never worries about hassling people about random bicycle checks, or gaijin cards. In fact he never even beats confessions out of suspects during undocumented interviews, or gropes high school girls in his time off.

Frank was exceptionally friendly and offered to give me a bird’s eye view of his precinct. We took off and were flying about for what seemed like hours.

I was lucky because Frank said he had enough whisky, and insisted I drink the rest all by myself.

Frank’s police box was perhaps the cutest, most non-confrontational police station I have ever encountered. Even Frank had to admit it was cute. And it was. Even by Japanese standards.

Even Frank’s Police car was cute. He said it gets excellent mileage.

He said he has would like to use the bicycle and mini scooter more, but his feet wont reach the pedals.

Thank you Frank! We salute you.

A Quick Single…

A 13 year old girl sits on Santa's knee. Santa says "What would you like for Christmas?" The girl says "I want some hair round my fanny". Santa says "Would a white beard be OK?"

Pass Thy Salt and Thy Pepper

I was to be found lurking about in Sendagaya recently. You probably don’t care do you. I don’t blame you, because as it turns out Sendagaya is not nearly as good as you’d think.

In fact, I asked some other people who probably know a lot more about it than me, and definitely more than you, but they also said didn’t know where it was.

Despite this, I did find a very weird little shop selling salt and pepper shakers molded to look like popular religious charachters.

There were no one’s of Joseph. Come to think of it, isn’t it strange how Joseph isn’t really all that well known compared to the other characters from the Nativity. Everyone knows about the 3 wise men, and Mary and Baby Joseph of course, but no one seems to concentrate on Joseph.

He just blends in like the other guy in Wham, that dud Prince Edward, or that 5th guy in Arashi who just stands looking at the camera.

The bit that I like about this product is that it would in all likelihood appeal to both hard core Christians and atheists equally. An atheist would take great delight in a sacred Christian symbols being portrayed as condiment shakers, whilst a Christian would probably draw equal pleasure from receiving one under the Xmas tree. There aren’t many new products that can pull that off.

They don’t come cheap either. If you are willing to splash out on a top of the line Chrome plated Mary, it will set you back all of Y4725.

A Quick Single…

I got sacked last night from the Salvation Army soup kitchen. Ungrateful cunts. All I said was "hurry up for fucks sake - some of us have homes to go to!"

Dramatic Arts Scene

Guest Blog by: tJIoGT Department of Dramatic Art, Prof. Desmond Clary MA.

I would like to use this occasion to congratulate all the prospective undergraduates selected to progress through to the 2nd round of our 2010 Dramatic Arts Program performance auditions.

This exceptionally high standard of competition this year has ensured for an extremely difficult and laborious culling process. Those young men selected to proceed into the ensuing rounds of competition can expect things to stiffen up considerably. Possibly in ways their young minds cannot yet imagine.

On the down side though, failed candidates need not be deterred or discouraged by the shame that my rejection undeniably brings them and their families. Instead, I ask such people to remember that there entire careers lay ahead of them, and encourage them to pursue his or her studies at any one of the less prestigious, inferior institutions that litter our country’s academic landscape.

Of all the rejected candidates to have darkened my door so far this year though, one young man perhaps stands out in particular. A very brave and courageous man named Simon, whom as luck would have I decided to cull early on the opening day of the selection process.

Despite his obvious lack of talent he immediately stood out from the other candidates for he was the only applicant in a wheel chair. As he rolled himself onto the stage he introduced himself as Simon.

I was immediately captivated by his courage and said, “It's very brave you coming out here in your wheelchair – Do you mind if I ask you what happened?" To this Simon said, "About a year ago, I was driving with my uncle when we had a terrible car accident. Unfortunately, my uncle was killed instantly, but I survived, trapped in the car for 4 hours and had to be cut free. Although the doctors had me in surgery for 18 hours, but they couldn't save my legs."

"That's terrible” I said. “But I see you have legs now, are they artificial?"

"No, whilst in hospital, the doctors advised me that the uncle who had been in the car with me had passed away, but that his legs were fine, and that with all the advances in medical science, they could graft his legs directly onto my body. I have been having physiotherapy for 12 months, and I hope to be walking again someday."

I was taken aback by his optimism and said "That's fantastic. So, who are you going to do for your audition?"

Simon replied "Well, I am going to be Simon and Half-Uncle."

A Quick Single…

A husband comes home with a half-gallon of ice cream and asks his wife if she wants some. "How hard is it?" she asks. "About as hard as my dick." he replies. "Ok, then pour me some!"

Up Norf in Japan

Roving around in Yonezawa, northern Japan the other evening desperately looking for something to keep my mind occupied.

You'll have to take my word for it, its not as easy as it sounds up there.

In fact, after a pleasant stroll around town, I realized that my best bet for entertainment was to pretend to walk into the ladies restroom at the train station by mistake.  But once I had done that 5 or 6 times I was back to square one.

As usual, it wasn't long before I found myself at convenience store looking for booze. The city's only convenience store as it would happen. A Newdays outlet. 

Like most frequent conbini visitors, over time, I have built up quite an aversion to Newdays.

Operated as a subsidiary of East Japan Railways, they are normally located inside station terminals, protected from competition from other chains. Commuters are hence a captive audience with no option but to shop or wait. Understandably, most sensible people don't build up any loyalty to the brand the way they do to Family Mart or Lawson 

Despite this, admirably, Newdays normally run a very tight ship.

But not up north in Yonezawa they don't.

Pyongyang flavored sandwiches and onigiri for all.

No food, but thankfully a lovely drawing of Goofy. Even if he was a bit hard of hearing on the left side.

Mercifully, they also had an extensive range of Hello Kitty souvenirs. Maybe the best I have seen north of the capital.

The convenience store also had a 5 meter statue of a samurai warrior at the entrance.

Extensive Hello Kitty baubles selection. 25 foot samurai doll. No food.

Keep up the god work Newdays.

A Quick Single…

A guy was in the delivery room when the midwife handed him a black baby. "Is this yours?" she asked. "Probably" said the guy "she burns everything else!"

Zama Politics

Strolling about in the paddy fields the other day in Zama, just outside of Ebina, in the fair prefecture of Kanagawa.

Like most people, I am a bit of a student of Japan’s omnipresent electoral posters. Most are run of the mill, but some can be quite entertaining you know.

I was therefore very happy to spot this little gem by Mr. Hikaru Hasegawa. Your local Assembly man if you happen to live in this place called Zama.

Although I don’t know too much about Mr. Hasegawa or his policies, I think we can safely assume he holds a pretty safe seat. Looking at his poster, I just didn’t get a sense that he is overly concerned at the prospect of fighting the next election campaign.

Eventually I realized that it is all part of Hasegawa-san’s strategy to drive traffic to his website. Take me for example, I wasn’t home two minutes before I was on his website keen to see if his nose really did look way.

My hopes were dashed though, as it turns out he has quite normal shaped nostrils, nothing like the poster.

These disappointments soon took a backseat to my concern over Mr. Hasegawa’s horrendous necktie. I remember seeing the exact same one- At The Daiso Y100 shop back in 1997.

Mr. Hasegawa: For the love of god, starting tomorrow please let your wife pick out your ties. The one you have on looks like road kill.

He did manage to win me back with possibly the site’s only redeeming feature: a paid banner advertisement at the top of the page flogging Y990 domain names. It’s not often you see that these days in politics. Very classy.

What you see is what you get. Questionable taste.

A Quick Single…

Two nuns are driving down a road late at night when a vampire jumps onto the bonnet. The nun who is driving says to the other, "Quick! Show him your cross." So the other nun leans out of the window and shouts, "Get off our fucking car you dirty cunt!!"

A Quick Single…

This lady goes to the drug store to buy her husband some toiletries. A clerk comes up to her and asks if she needs some assistance. "I'm looking for some deodorant for my new husband," she says, "but I don't know what type he uses." "Is it the ball type?" The clerk asks. "No," replies the lady, "it's for his underarms."

Going Belly Up

I was taking a stroll around Kabukicho the other day. Gawking at all the latest trends in Pilipino hookers, pawnshops, and androgynous looking man-boy hosts.

That sought of stuff.

And then one particular establishment caught my eye. A lovely little Fugu (puffer fish)  Restaurant that was good for a bit of a giggle.

I was about to go in for a bit to eat, when I spied this little fellow taking a rest on the bottom of the tank.

Given that most Fugu fish probably contain more poison than you could poke a stick at, I was surprised that a restaurateur would have a dead one in his front window.

I’m also not normally a fish guy, so I was also intrigued at the new varieties of fugu on display.

I can just imagine the poor old employees inside:

Waiter: “Gosh, it’s a bit slow around here tonight eh,”
Chef: Don’t tell me you forgot the 営業中 sign again did you?”
Waiter: “Nah, it went out hours ago. Maybe the ice skating is on television again?”
Chef: “Really, not bloody Mao-chan again. She murders our sales you know.”
Waiter: “Yeah that’s probably it. The figure skating!.”
Chef: “Ill put the kettle on. Fancy a cup?”
Waiter: “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

Chef: Have you seen that nice white cup I won at pachinko? Cant seem to find it anywhere.”

Pining for the fiords in Shinjuku.