AltJapan

Kappa Ten

Mark your calendars: the 6th annual Kappa Ten (Kappa Exhibition) is being held at the Artist Garden gallery in Ikebukuro from July 10th through the 22nd. Subtitled "Apparitions of an Unidentified Organism," it's a celebration of everyone's favorite cucumber-eatin', sumo-wrestlin', anus-attackin', water-dwellin' yokai from Japanese folklore. 

Kappa-related artwork from more than twenty artists will be on display, like manga-ka Yutaka Kondo (who illustrated Hello, Please!) and the inimitable Hiroko Yoda (who took the photograph gracing the exhibition flyer above). It's also your chance to see several of Tatsuya Morino's original illustrations from our new book Yokai Attack up close and personal-like.

The show officially kicks off on July 10th, but a special opening reception is being held from 5pm to 6pm on Saturday, July 12th. Swing by for some kappa maki, beer, and your chance to hobnob with some of Japan's top yokai artists. Here's a map -- see you there!

¡Cerveza Rangers!

Power Rangers? Inokashirangers? Incorrecto! There's a new team in town: MEXICAN BEER RANGERS! Spotted (fittingly enough) posted on a bathroom stall in a hole-in-the-wall "cantina" in Kanda, this mash-up of hard-hitting Mexican cervezas and Japanese rangers might possibly be the greatest localized ad campaign ever. Too bad it began and ended without a trace last year!

Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I've seen these hombres busting through my bedroom wall, Kool-Aid Man style, after a long night on the town. The big question: how long until garage kits show up at WonderFest? 

Gotta Get 'em All

Everyone knows the old cliche about the Japanese love for Italian brands. But did you know the affair is mutual? When the brands involve robot toys, anyway.

America has its share of super-collectors, but they are few and far between compared to Italy. Part of this is due to the sheer number of Italian anime fans: between 1978 and 1986, dozens upon dozens of Japanese animated series were translated and broadcast in the country. (In America, we had to content ourselves with a paltry handful of shows like Starblazers, Robotech, and the painfully localized Voltron.)

Another factor is that the vast majority of '70s and '80s anime series were created purely as vehicles to sell merchandise, and the same toys sold in Japan were sold in Italy as well. (Again, contrast this to America. Until the Reagan era, legal regulations prohibited the marketing of products based on cartoons to kids, crippling the incentive to import anime series. This is why anime failed to really gain any traction in the USA until the mid-1990s, nearly two decades after it took Europe by storm.)

Don't believe me? Check out Italian collector Virgino's display of vintage Japanese diecasts above. How do YOUR collections stack up, American otaku?

In the Realm of the Yon-Sama

Hiroko and Patrick drink in the ambience of a serial killer's bedroom... I mean, of a shrine to Yon-Sama, erected in a Korean barbecue restaurant just outside of Kabukicho. 

Kichijoji Ichiban Rare Chara

The other day, you learned about Nakano's nameless and mysterious new mascot. But did you realize that Kichijoji has its own official mascot character, too? Meet Kittan! In the annals of the "yuru-kyara" ("weak characters"), he's one of the most decidedly yuru. A near featureless orange ball with Disney-inspired eyes, he's supposed to evoke... what, exactly? The sunny skies over the city? Your liver after a night spent getting sloshed in scenic Harmonica Yokocho? Actually, he's vaguely reminiscent of the kanji for "kichi," 吉, which means "good fortune" and is used to write "Kichijoji" (吉祥寺).

He's decidedly difficult to spot in his natural habitat (the info kiosk on Sun Road is a good place to start), but lo and behold, there he is kicking it on the curb with a "furry" in Second Life! (In Japan, apparently, super kawaii characters drink sake instead of forties.) In fact, a Kittan devotee has created an entire virtual Kichijoji in Second Life, complete with replica Inokashira Park, Iseya yakitori stand, maids, and the occasional dinosaur. Hats off to anyone who spends their free time masquerading as an alcoholic mascot character!

The Tengu Has Landed

Here's what the critics are saying about our new book, Yokai Attack! The Japanese Monster Survival Guide:

"An invaluable resource for anyone interested in J-Horror and  Japanese culture; gave me a deeper understanding of what I've been enjoying for so many years." 

Don Coscarelli, director, Phantasm, Bubba Ho-Tep

"Funny, scary and informative, Yokai Attack is a must-have, must-read for anyone interested in Asian culture and MONSTERS. What a combo!”

Steve Niles, co-creator, 30 Days of Night

It's an English language guide to the creatures that go bump in Japan's night, and it has officially arrived in Japanese bookstores. Like this Kinokuniya in Shinjuku:

(You know you've "made it" as a writer about Japan when your book is on the same shelf as Speed Tribes and Sex and the Japanese.)

It's of course up on Amazon.jp as well. Those of you in North America and Europe are going to have to sit tight a little longer until Kodansha International releases it in bookstores there this fall (sorry!) If you live outside of Japan and absolutely must have it earlier -- and who could blame you? -- drop your local Japanese import bookstore a line with the ISBN, which is 9784770030702.

The End of Akiba? No.

It's been 72 hours since the phone calls started coming in: "did you hear about what happened in Akihabara?" The final toll: seven dead, ten injured. The murderer hit Tokyo where it felt safest, cutting down his victims without warning, the vast majority of them in the prime of their lives. I've never met any of them, but they could very easily have been my friends, my family, even me. I had passed through the scene of the crime exactly two days to the minute before it happened, playing tour guide to a friend's teenage son who was visiting Tokyo for the first time. If his schedule had been different... If we'd been there just two days later... It's a sobering thought.

The "AKB Massacre," as Marxy has unofficially dubbed it, is without a doubt one of the most shocking incidents I've encountered since moving to Tokyo five years ago. The Sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway in 1995 was far broader in scope, but it was a planned terrorist operation perpetrated by a group of crazed religious zealots. That the mayhem in Akihabara was wrought by a lone young everyman armed with nothing more than a rented truck and a knife somehow makes it all the more chilling. 

I shouldn't be surprised, then, that scores of emotionally overwrought "otaku" bloggers -- many of whom appear never to have even set foot in the country, let alone Akihabara itself -- have dubbed it everything from a "geek hate crime" to "the end of otaku culture as we know it." It's nothing of the sort. And here's why.

Eigo a Go Go

 

The cat's out of the bag: I'm on next Monday's Eigo De Shabera Night. The topic: so-called "untranslatable" Japanese phrases and expressions, including the ever-popular rei-no-are ("whatchamacalit") and Japan-coined English like plus alpha (meaning "bonus" or "extra.")

I pop in as a "robot otaku translator" (their words, not mine), apparently thrown into the mix as a contrast to actual productive members of society. If you live in Japan, it airs on NHK at 11pm on the 9th with a rebroadcast at 3:15pm on the 13th.

6/10 Update! Links to the show have already appeared on YouTube Japan:

http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=4EbOj1YzCz8
http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=5xWNsFya6jM
http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=3uwZCeorp2Q

As described on one Japanese blog, "Matt is a high-tension white yaro, like the entire cast of 'Porky's.'"

UMEZZ!!

One of the pleasures of living near Kichijoji is the prospect of Umezu Kazuo walking past your window on any given day.

"Umezu! UMEZU!" shouted Hiroko, flinging back open the front door only seconds after having stepped out to go shopping. Say no more. Wordlessly I vaulted upstairs for the 1968 edition of his collected works, sprinted back downstairs, out the door, and down the street. She'd spotted him once before, almost two years previous, and this time we were ready.

"Where'd he go?" I asked, frantically looking up and down the streets radiating from the crossing near our house. The last time this happened, he'd vanished without a trace. We'd lost precious seconds getting the book. That's why we'd left it on the edge of the bookshelf for the last two years. No way we were letting him get away this time.

"There!" cried Hiroko. "In the bright red shirt!" 

Sure enough, there he was, a good twenty meters down the street. How's he move so FAST? Crouching into a wind sprint, I headed down the thoroughfare, now crowded with midday shoppers.

"Sensei! SENSEI!" Housewives scattering and ducking for cover, a crazed gaijin in a Uniqlo thousand-yen samue buffaloing through their midst. Fifteen meters. Ten. Five. Contact...

"Sensei! Are you Umezu-sensei?" I asked, out of breath.

"Yes?" replied the startled man. Small, almost delicate, in person.

"I'm a big fan. Would you mind signing this?"

"Sure. Who should I make it out to?"

"Matt. 'Matto.'"

"Batto?"

"No, Matto. Like... kuruma-no-matto," I improvised, giving him the word for a car floormat.

"Kuruma no matto! Ha!"

After exchanging pleasantries, we split ways. Just another quiet, everyday encounter with a manga legend. Man, I love this town.

Sub(sea)culture

Photos from last month's trip to Okinawa's remote Iriomoté Island are finally up. Stuff taken underwater = me. Stuff taken above the surface = Hiroko. Enjoy! And if you feel like reading more, check out the report from 2006.