AltJapan

Yo Nukes

Japan loves mascots. There are enough of them out there to fill a book and many, many posts on the subject. Super-cute mascots aren't intended to be childish or condescending here; Japan's animistic, polytheistic roots seem to have given the nation the mutant power to transform nearly any object or concept, no matter how arcane, into a happy little mascot.

Japan's nuclear industry is no exception. Many of the nuclear facilities it built throughout the nation came complete with little museums -- basically, PR facilities -- to help educate and reassure locals as to the safety of the nuclear plants sitting in the middle of their neighborhoods. Looking back from the devastation of March 2011, a lot of these seem almost gross, but it's important to remember there was no special effort to brainwash anyone or specifically target children with these super-cute characters. EVERYTHING has a mascot in Japan. Even the tsunami waves themselves. 

That said, I don't think anyone has actually gone to the effort of trying to collect these nuclear-related mascots in one place. Below are a sampling I found in a scan of the net. I am sure there are many more out there - post 'em if you find 'em!

First up: the notorious Pluto-kun ("Mr. Pluto"), one of the mascots used by the Japan Atomic Energy Association to calm fears about nuclear power at their Atom World PR facility. Which has been shut down to the public since March of 2011 (go figure.)

This looks like an R. Crumb character, but it's Tomarin, the mascot of the Hokkaido Electric Power Company's Nuclear PR center.

"Welcome to Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant!"

"Welcome to the Hamaoka Nuclear Power Museum!" He's still hanging out with the kids post-3/11, at least as recently as March 2012.

1W-kun ("Mr. One-Watt"), the mascot of Kinki University's teaching reactor.

Uranboya ("Uranium Boy"), another of the JAEA's helpful PR flacks.

Miss Sodium, another mascot used at Atom World to explain the workings of sodium-cooled fast reactors.

Rikki, mascot of the Shimane Nuclear Plant PR facility. (Free admission, people!)

"Super Atomic-kun," with a wave motif that looks quite unfortunate, in hindsight...

It also goes without saying that anti-nuclear protesters have created their own mascots as well. This is Datsuge-Raion, or "The Get-Out-of-Nuclear-Power Lion." He even has his own theme song. 

Kawaiisrael

From the Israel in Japan Facebook page, a contest that proves yet again that no concept can escape being made into a yuru-kyara mascot.

This time, the mission is to design a supercute character to represent the Israeli Embassy of Tokyo. As always, the point is to ride that fine line between silly and just plain lame - and don't forget to toss in as many local foods, customs, and tourist attractions as possible. Meet some of the top contenders below.

Lions and menorahs:

A positively proctological kebab:

Falaffels in a pod:

Hummus-man?

Meshugana for moé:

Wacky Wailing Wall!

Cats? Why not.

My personal favorite:

MBA? CPA? LOL!

There are many words one can use to describe tax law. "Adorable" is generally not one of them.

Hot on the heels of the totally kawaii catastrophic insurance coverage we used for our house came this pamphlet from the Japanese government. Entitled "Tax System for Small and Medium-Sized Enterprises," it describes tax laws applying to small companies such as the one Hiroko and I run. 

Featuring the adventures of Professor Kyoko and the "Taxhound," it consists of 78 pages of the dense, unreadable text you'd expect from a pamphlet like this. The only difference between it and those of other countries being the supercute girls! girls! girls! popping up amidst the charts and tables of numbers. Here, see for yourself! It's avaialble for free download from the METI website.

You know what else is available for free download? The totally squeezable huggable lovable OMG-I-could-just-eat-you-up Accounting for Small and Medium-sized Enterprises! Featuring an even further infantalized mascot character and, of course, her mutant turtle sidekick. 

As always, these aren't intended for tax-crazed toddlers. They're distributed to small business owners throughout Japan. Truth be told, these are less "kawaii" than they are "moé," but I think one thing is clear: nothing is safe from the siren song of the supercute in Japan.

Kawaii Catastrophe

Kawaii. The aesthetic of Japanese cute. You love it or hate it, but you can't escape it, as Hiroko and I learned when renewing the insurance on our house. Japan being Japan, the pamphlet that explains the different levels of coverage features helpful super deformed illustrations of the catastrophes that can befall homeowners. We aren't insuring our house through Playskool. One of Japan's biggest banks gave this to us.

Noooo!

Double noooo! Yes, you can get earthquake coverage in Japan.

 

Triple nooo! I've discussed tsunami mascots before, but the fact that something like this still flies even post-3/11 is a testament to how deep the kawaii aesthetic runs in Japan. Imagery like this isn't seen as infantile or condescending; it's understood that cute graphic design acts as a visual signpost to hold peoples' attention even when they might want to look away.

These unhappy little houses appeared in the section illustrating the difference between (from bottom to top) partial damage, half damage, and total writeoff. 

And what homeowner insurance policy would be complete without coverage of your possessions? Again, bottom to top, partial damage, half damage, and totally supercute huggable destruction of the contents of your home.

KAWAIIIIIII!!!!

Angry Firs

Even after years of studying super kawaii characters in Japan, I come across new species that defy easy explanation.

This sign appeared in Inokashira Park several weeks back. It's posted on a bridge that's being renovated, and warns pedestrians to watch their step. It's a classic "warning character" sign, but... What are those little monsters at bottom? Trees? If so, why are they armed with spears?

Perhaps they aren't trees at all but yokai: a personification of the misfortunes that befall your feet when you don't watch where you're stepping.

I.N.K.ling

So I wussed out on my threat/promise to take a swim in Zushi's chilly waters yesterday. But with things like this inhabiting the nearby storm drains, can you really blame me?

"Stop or we'll cute!"

Meet Seyano Ajisai and Seyano Keyaki, the newest recruits to the ranks of Japan's many regional police department mascots. Unlike the usual vaguely-defined yuru kyara style working characters, they look like they stepped right out of the pages of a manga. But these aren't a joke, aren't some kind of dojinshi mash-up. They are 100% official designs of the suburban Yokohama based Seya Police Department, freshly unveiled just days ago. That makes them (in the words of a Seya P.D. spokesman) "the most cutting-edge police mascots in Japan." 

The comment echoes one by Takashi Murakami several years ago about mascots "representing the cutting edge of kawaii culture in Japan." Given the troubles the anime, manga, music, and film industries are suffering at the moment, one could make a strong case that mascot culture is the "healthiest" (or at least most dynamic) of Japan's subcultures right now. And nowhere is that more evident than in the merging of status-quo mascot design with moé, that fetishization of girlish naiveté and effeminate men.

You can read an article I wrote on the subject over at CNNgo, but the fact that a police department chose these particular designs for outreach purposes is yet another example of just how deeply moé has entrenched itself in the mainstream of Japanese society. While there's a joke to be made here about the people who are supposed to be protecting children using "lolicon" as a community-building tool, this isn't really about Seya's aesthetic choices. Mascots are like fuzzy little mirrors reflecting the tastes of the day -- and love it or hate it, moé, is here to stay.

Der Kawaii Commodore's in Town (Uh Oh)

In 1853, a fleet of four steam-powered frigates under the command of U.S. Navy Commodore Matthew Perry paid an unannounced visit to Edo bay. Dubbed the kurofune (literally, "black ships") by the astounded citizens of Japan, a combination of Perry's savvy negotiating tactics plus the veiled threat of a bombardment eventually convinced the Tokugawa Shogunate to open the country to foreign trade after two centuries of near total isolation.

Heavy stuff. And this being Japan, that means there's absolutely no reason not to commission a super-kawaii mascot commemorating the event! Meet "Tanemaru," the world's most cuddly cheerleader for the concept of gunboat diplomacy. Unveiled as part of the City of Yokohama's 150th anniversary celebration of the official opening of the port, it's an ambulatory ship with a seedling sprouting from its bridge. Okay, so it's celebrating the RESULT, not what led up to the opening. But still.

After writing Hello, Please! it takes a lot to surprise me when it comes to mascots like Tanemaru. I suppose he isn't any conceptually stranger than Hikonyan, or the even more inexplicable Hello Kitty Black Ship. ("Open your frickin' harbor or we'll bombard you with hugs!") But there's something about the mash-up of nineteenth century imperialism and super-cute mascot culture that would undoubtedly have set the head of an old salt like Commodore Perry spinning. Ponder that the next time you take a ride in one of Yokohama's Tanemaru-festooned taxis.

Pancake Positioning

Observe two packages of pancake mix sold in supermarkets throughout Japan. They're packaged in the same size of box; they retail for roughly the same amount of money; they both make "a big big pancake with a big big taste." The only difference: one's intended as your average, everyday pancake mix; the other is branded with the swanky Hotel New Otani name. (Which also, coincidentally, happens to be the site of the now legendary Battle of Tokyo Trader Vic's. But I digress.) 

Question: Given the near-identical nature of the products, how best to differentiate them? Super kawaii "working characters" to the rescue. These otherwise unassuming packages, identical save for the image they attempt to present to customers, illustrate one of the facts Hiroko and I discovered during the making of Hello, Please! Very Helpful Super Kawaii Characters From Japan: the more exclusive a product's image, the lower the chance you'll see cute characters associated with it. 

Just take a look for yourself. Cozy 'n unpretentious Morinaga's on the left. Chic 'n glamorous New Otani's on the right. One features supercute anthropomorphic bowls, pans, pancakes, and even (in an absurdly elaborate story on the official website) a carbohydrate-laden mascot character. The other, aiming for a slightly more elegant sort of image, doesn't. Click to enlarge.

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle. Now pass me the syrup.

(You may remember the Morinaga instructions from that timeless AltJapan classic, "Makin' Pancakes the Japanese Way.")

Things That Go Bump in the Night

We first meet Hiroko and Matt in Tokyo's touristy Asakusa, where the couple pose with a pair of tanuki statues on the grounds of a shrine...

Thanks to the the Asahi Shimbun for the feature on us in today's issue. Partly a goofy exposé of Hiroko and I, partly a review of Hello, Please!, and mostly a discussion of the creatures that populate the soon-to-be-released-in-America Yokai Attack!, it's got a twist at the end that managed to surprise even us (and will definitely surprise Steve Jobs). Check it out if you get a chance.