Finding Diagon Alley

There's a Subway restaurant on one of the short little pedestrian streets that cut back and forth between Kawaramachi and Shinkyougoku. I visited so often the staff learned my order. Japanese Subway isn't quite as good as Canadian, I'm sorry to say, but it's still hard to beat a delicious hot sandwich. Plus, it was located directly across from a Rainbow Karaoke, where we went the night I met Seven and Hyeong, so while I ate I liked to amuse myself by watching the incredibly obnoxious promo video loop constantly.

It's just one of a dozen or so places I took to frequenting in the downtown core area. By the time my year of study abroad was coming to a close, I knew the place pretty well. The broad strokes, at least. Here's a place to buy beer. Here's a place to eat cheaply. Here's a place where you can buy books, and for some reason also clothing. I had a good understanding of where all the little oft-ignored shrines were tucked away. I knew where the karaoke places and the convenience stores were (at intervals of every ten and two steps, respectively).

This is why it was such a start to glance down a gap between two buildings and realise – whoa, there's a couple of people walking around back there. Where are they...? Wait wait, there's more of them! Are they – is there a bunch of cool stuff back there?

As soon as I stepped through – it was really like a doorway – I realised what I'd stumbled upon. There was a whole goddamned town back here! A whole network of thoroughfares and switchbacks, wide enough to drive a car through! Not that you'd want to; you'd forever be getting stuck behind slow walkers. It was a decidedly pedestrian affair, couples, families, old dudes, young girls, everybody just going about their business. I found out that Round1 has a parking lot behind it. OPA has a whole other storefront I never knew about, and it's every bit as ostentatious as the one on the street. There were cafes, a small bar, funky expensive clothing stores, and what might have been a lawyer's office. Or possibly a yakuza branch office; it's hard to tell at a glance in Japan.

As I wound my way around, I realised that I'd seen some of this stuff before, passing between the aforementioned streets. But it had never occurred to me to look any farther; like a hopeless Muggle, I'd been totally unaware of the Diagon Alley that was just out of sight, teeming with life and interest, if you only knew where it was. And really, it's utterly amazing that I never discovered it earlier. Perhaps some of you are reading this and marveling at my density, because you found it on your very first sweep through downtown. But I was amazed that even after a year and a half, Kyouto could still be hiding some secrets right in my territory.

It's one of the (many) reasons I love cities, actually. I'm an extrovert in the truest sense of the word, drawing energy from the people around me, so the more of them there are, the happier I am. Sobriety and mental elbow room be damned! Give me a crowd. Nature and serenity? Get some concrete and glass in there! Likewise, you can talk to me all day about familiarity and sometimes wanting to go where everybody knows your name, but I'd rather have dynamism. A city is like a lover – so complex and so deep, you could know them for a lifetime and still have more to learn.

The Gypsy and the Hobo

President: I couldn't find any flapper stuff that I liked, so now I'm being Joan from Mad Men.

Rude Boy: What?! I wanted to be a 1920s gangster!

President: Be one of the Mad Men.

Rude Boy: But...wouldn't that just be me in a suit?

President: You could also wear a snazzy hat.

Two years ago I was a cowboy, and everybody ended up asking me whether or not that was my costume. And that really made me have to reflect on the degree to which I've alienated my friends and family with my weirdness, when I dress up as a fucking cowboy on Halloween and they ask if it's a costume or just how I decided to dress that day. I was anticipating similar results for my Don Draper, since, again, really it was just me in nicer clothes, and with very well-styled hair (courtesy of Jugs). I'm sure it didn't help that I'd done a dry run of a possible jacket exactly one week prior, so a lot of people probably just thought I was trying to start Formal Thursdays.

I really tried to get the look down, though. Grey suit, thin lapels. Narrow black tie, white shirt, white pocket square. But for the full effect, I would really have to master Don's mannerisms. I surmised that the easiest way to do that would be to get rat-assed by 11 am and try to keep that going for the rest of the day, so I kept a full flask in the inside pocket. In the other I placed a stainless steel Zippo lighter, so that I would be ready should any pretty young thing require a light, even though I don't smoke myself. I also printed out a photo of Don and put in my wallet, mostly for my Japanese friends, who probably wouldn't know the character, but also in case anybody tried to start arguing with me that I'd gotten one of the details wrong. I didn't have an appropriate hat in my collection and there was the problem that Don is 200 pounds of pure fat and muscle and I barely crest 120 most days, but know what, fuck it.

I woke up to a pic of Udon, in a maid costume, grinning at the camera and curtseying coquettishly. I pretty much came instantly. We still aren't dating, of course – just leaving that option on the table for whenever I make it back home – but you know, benefits. President and I had History together first thing, and I must say we looked quite a pair. Unsurprisingly, the teacher was our biggest fan. “You look like you just stepped out of the 60s!” he exclaimed appreciatively. In mid-lecture, a loud, metallic bang emitted from my pocket, drawing more attention than I'd have liked. Later inspection confirmed that it had suddenly expanded, I guess because I'd filled it too far, so that was my physics lab for the day. Fortunately I was able to pop it back into place.

Now there is an organization on my campus, staffed by two paid employees and bolstered by volunteers, whose job is exclusively to run fun events for international students. Stuff like, say, horseback riding, which is very Canadian and something not a lot of people outside Canada have done, or a wine-tasting tour of the Valley. If you ask me their biggest and best event of the year is their Halloween Party, and it's fucking awesome. It's held in this giant conference room and it's dry but there's like free pop and a ton of snacks and it's all dark and everybody is in costume and yelling at each other and the girls are all dressed extremely slutty because duh it's Halloween and there's like a haunted house and a pumpkin-carving competition and you know a dance floor and then afterwards the festivities continue at the campus pub. Also, international students everywhere. I think one of my main gripes with Canada is that there aren't nearly enough Asians, not nearly as many as in Asia at any rate, but it seems like there's a bit of a spike this semester. You know how it is, there's a natural rise and fall to registration rates. Anyway back in 2009 I was literally the only domestic student at the party, and now, four years later, domestic students going has become just like a thing. Coincidence? Yes, but I still front-ran the trend.

So that sort of started off a tradition for me of Halloween being rad. 2009 I hooked up with a Japanese exchange student. 2010 I started dating a Japanese exchange student. 2011 nothing happened and I moaned about it interminably. 2012 Seven and her friends took me to Butterfly. Would 2013 cement the pattern of two on, one off?! I daren't even dream.

When I arrived back on campus after going for food, President informed me that the handful of Japanese Club members had all gone off trick-or-treating, and would not be accompanying us. “I guess they're just all too cool for us,” she said. On the one hand, I guess if they're not going out at the same time as little kids, and if they've actually put effort into their costumes – well, ok. Fine. On the other hand, what the actual fuck? You motherfuckers are in your goddamn 20s. Seriously. It just strikes me as so fucking disrespectful and childish, far more childish, in fact, than an actual child going trick-or-treating, because actual children are supposed to go trick-or-treating. Am I the only one who thinks that by the time you hit high school, you should be well and truly done with this shit? I get that there's a dead period where kid stuff is boring but adult stuff is off-limits or difficult to access, but when you're in fucking college, there is other stuff for you to do. Jesus.

Later, though, I started to think that maybe this is also symptomatic of a change in Club as a whole. Their reasons for not wanting to go to the party? It's hot, and loud, and crowded, and “not that fun.” Fuck yeah it's hot, and loud, and crowded, and it's a ton of fun. Or at least I've always thought so, and President obviously likes it. But we aren't in charge anymore, and the new people might just be catering to a bit of a different taste, same as a political party undergoes shifts in tone over the years, as situations change and, just as importantly, new leadership steps in. I'm free to furrow my brow and brandish my cane, but that's just the way it is.

It transpired that getting in required a student card, which makes sense in retrospect, but I threw mine in a drawer when I left Canada and never bothered to put it back in my wallet. Luckily I knew some of the people there and talked my way in. This, boys and girls, is why we are friendly and professional with every single person we meet. Once inside we hung out near the food, chatting and waiting for more people to show up. I did have my eye out for a particular target, a girl I'd been priming throughout the preceding week.

Rude Boy: I have her LINE but I can't use it without Wi-Fi. I don't even have her phone number. God, what if it's too dark to see and I never find her? It'll be like fucking How I Met Your Mother.

President: “Kids, your mother was at that party...”

Fortunately, I managed to catch her, and we agreed to do the whole haunted house thing together. She went off to gather her friends but when she came back she was alone, because they were all “too scared.” Did they beg off in order to get us alone together? It's possible. We stood in line for a good half-hour, I kept her smiling and laughing, listened more than I talked, asked questions and delivered compliments, and managed not to be cringe-worthily awkward, so I was pretty much at the top of my game on that front. Inside the house, she did not, at any point, cling to me in terror, nor hide behind me for protection, nor pull me aside for a quickie in the corner of the mad scientist's lab, but at least she seemed to enjoy herself.

So I thought I was doing pretty well, except she fucked off not long after and I kind of didn't see her much for the rest of the night. Ok, I thought, either she's not that into me or I'm just not her main focus during probably the only “real” Halloween party she'll ever experience, either of which is obviously fine. I fell in with some other Japanese people, I chatted, I danced, turns out it's hard to dance in a suit while weighed down by a loaded flask. Thing is, before I lost her we agreed to go to the campus pub together (like, together in a group) afterwards, but she ended up going to a friend's birthday party – BUT before she left she specifically came and apologized and then told me that she's always free, so I could hit her up whenever. Did she just invite me to ask her out on a date? Maybe! Either way it was a fun time, so eh, let's just go ahead and call the night a success.

At 10 o'clock, as the first venue was winding down and people were trying to sort out their 2jikais, Akiba, my oldest Japanese friend, spontaneously appeared, done up in full drag with a Phantom of the Opera mask. It was...really quite something, although the breasts were suspiciously large for a Japanese woman. The majority of people there were being indecisive twits, so four of us broke off, piled into my friend's van, and drove to a pub a few blocks away.

Girl: Are you a good driver?

Akiba: No problem.

(begins backing up with one tire over a median, nearly wheels into a parked car)

Rude Boy: Who the hell gave you a license?

Girl: That.

Akiba: This is safe driving.

One of the girls was dressed as Haruhi. I actually saw her at the Orientation, and pretty much assumed she was Japanese, but had been too intimidated to introduce myself. Silly in retrospect, I could have just complimented her costume, confirmed her national origins, and bingo, conversation. Anyway, she turned out to be really nice. Admiring Akiba's getup, she recalled having gone to some kind of guys-only otaku event at a cafe: “I wore my friend's clothes and bound my chest and went in and nobody questioned it, and the whole time people talked to me like one of the guys and I got treated like a guy. It was weird. And interesting.” The other girl was adorable and from Nagoya, so me and her Oosaka friend made fun of her for not being from Oosaka.

I hadn't anticipated being at this particular pub, with these exact members, or so few of them, but it ended up being great. Akiba I've known for a good six years now, and it's always good to reconnect every so often. And sitting with two cute girls, I could hardly complain anyway. I'm overloaded with coursework this semester and it's starting to get exhausting, and it's only about to get worse. I needed this. Reminds me what I've been fighting for this whole time.

“Japanese people are great,” I said.

Sexual harassment

I've had a sexual harassment claim levied against me. Well, it was always going to happen sooner or later. Hey-o! No just kidding, sexual harassment is not cool at all. But this entire case is so ridiculous I kind of can't help but make fun of it a little. Yes, I was absolutely sent a very terrifying e-mail asking me to come to the office, and then I was led to a vacant classroom and the International Office director talked to me in Japanese while the native English-speaking guy sat off to the side, ready to translate and elucidate as necessary. So it seems that one of the Chinese girls I live with has had some misgivings about some of my behaviours. I will relate them to you in the opposite order that they were explained to me, in ascending order of ridiculousness, and – I must stress this – ascending order of the severity of treatment they were given.

3. My desktop

No need to mince words with this one. I can just show you. It looks like this:

The facts of the case. You're welcome.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not arguing that this isn't sexual. Because I'm, you know, not a moron. This is incredibly sexual, that's for sure. Brilliantly so in fact. And I love it for it. It's raunchy and discrete at the same time. I wish I'd come up with it.

What it isn't, though, is harassment.

This is going to become more and more clear as this blog post goes on, but in my personal opinion there most definitely IS such a thing as oversensitivity. And people, in general, would benefit from exposing themselves more to things they don't like and learning to deal with them. Fuck knows I'd be happier if I did. But, lookit, in the course of very legitimate efforts against sexual harassment we've redefined harassment. Harassment, in English, has a connotation of repetition, right? And definitely, definitely willful intent. But in Japan, we're at a point here where, it was explained to me, if somebody passively sees you doing literally anything that they don't like, they can charge you with sexual harassment. That's a bit much. And it's even worse that my home culture has an attitude of “don't want to see, don't look.”

Anyway, it's not a big fucking deal. She has problems with my background. I changed the background. Whatever.

2. Body touch

I do this, definitely. I touch people's elbow to get their attention. Put a hand on their shoulder for emphasis. Clap them on the back as I walk by, you know, for camaraderie. That kind of thing. In Canada, when I'm talking to somebody and President walks up, I'll hug her sideways just to acknowledge her but I'll get to you in a sec because I'm a little busy. In fact if I'm in a mood for it we'll hug hello and goodbye too. It's completely meaningless in my culture. In fact it's completely meaningless in general. The only thing I do with anybody I don't know well is the elbow thing. The elbow is the least sexual part of the human body, I'm pretty sure. The feet? No, foot fetish is very common. The asshole? No, anal is a thing. See?

This is neither harassment nor sexual. But again, I can absolutely see how this would offend somebody. So that's completely fine. Want me to stop, I'll stop. That's an easy fix.

She also said that at some point I “pretended to move to kiss her,” but I flatly denied that, because it's just not true. I would never do that. I may not always respect the lines that society has set but I have my own, and I would never do something like that because I have too much respect for women. Besides, why the fuck would I want to kiss someone who didn't want to be kissed? I mean what the fuck is the fun in that?

1. Too many high fives

I'm completely serious.

This, out of everything we discussed, was the issue that was given the most gravity. The other stuff was fine but not THAT big of a deal. Here we are cutting to the heart of the matter. This was by far the most offensive and inappropriate thing I have been doing. I dole out high fives like water at a track meet, and simply sitting and watching this has been causing this girl incredible consternation.

It “makes Chinese girls uncomfortable,” apparently. I...well I mean, what the hell? I guess I can believe that. Cultural differences and shit? Ok. No, wait a second, what the fuck? No. That's cultural relativism. That's what Soymilk said, and that's a good point. He then made an even better one, which is that these completely ridiculous accusations could cause me problems down the line. He recommends that I counter-sue, basically, maybe for spreading false rumours around the dormitory or something, just to cover my own ass. I'm considering it. Because this could REALLY burn me, and seriously, high fucking fives?

I'll take more care going forward, obviously. But to be honest, I'm not really sure how I feel about this. I'd like to say that I'm a good person and so I feel bad, but...I don't. Because as far as I'm concerned, I kind of haven't done anything wrong. I'm not angry, though. I'm not going to plot my revenge, although God knows I could. I wouldn't even have to do much, actually. People would react way worse to her calling me out than to anything she's called me out for. But I'm not vindictive. I've obviously genuinely offended her – I know she's not just fucking with me because she went to the International Office instead of the ethics board, which would have gotten me in way more trouble, obviously. That's a show of good faith that I'm happy to reciprocate.

It's difficult not to feel like I've been attacked, that my character has been called into question, but I'm a big boy, I'll get over it. Weird, and a little distressing, that she didn't come directly to me first, but apparently she said she wasn't sure how to approach me. I've never considered myself unapproachable, unless you're wasting my time with stupid bullshit, but I can be intimidating. The director brought with her some of the appropriate literature, but had enough respect for me not to make me suffer the indignity of having to take it with me, so major points there.

As for the solution, all right. No more high fives. That's a sad declaration, but if that's what it takes, I'll deal with it. Problem solved? Also I really just want to reiterate that high fives are now sexual harassment.

Basically I guess there's two lessons to be learned from this. For one: Cultural differences, man. They take time to learn, and it's very easy to walk straight into quagmires you didn't even know were a thing. Seriously, I had no idea there was any problem at all until this. And the other lesson is, be careful what the fuck you do, because even something completely innocent can be misrepresented as sexual harassment. That sounds like a bitter snipe, but it's not, I'm dead serious – watch yourself!

What's really unbelievable is, I exhibit a ton of behaviours each day that could legitimately considered sexual harassment, but nobody mentioned any of those.

My sister

I've got a bad case of the shakes before I even open my eyes. My stomach is overflowing, urging evacuation through the front entrance. It's like I've got some combination of a hangover and the flu. I don't, though; I'm just nervous. Today I'm going to see my sister.

My Japanese sister, I mean. We're not related by blood. It's only that her family hosted me once, in the ancient past, and we've thought of each other as brother and sister ever since. It only took me three days to realise the depths of my affections, too. A lot of people just don't get how somebody can be your family without actually being your family, and I guess I can understand – if you haven't experienced it, it's probably hard to wrap your head around. It still irks me when people try to argue the point - and I won't suffer anybody who tries to deny the legitimacy of our bond - but I understand it.

She was, I think, not only the first person whose love for me I ever really felt, but also the first I never had to question, ever. Likewise, I love her with everything I have, wholly and unconditionally. In fact I feel more strongly for her than I do for any of my “real” relatives. She's vibrant, beautiful inside and out, and more full of life than anyone else I know. To me, she is perfect, and if anyone disagrees, I don't want to hear it.

Of course as soon as I arrived in Kyouto the first thing I wanted to do was to meet with her. And she told me that, yes of course, we should meet, but she was very busy right now and so sorry but could we put it off for a while? Well yes, of course we could, because she is not beholden to my whims and it's my dearest wish to support her from the sidelines, and sometimes that means stepping out of the way. It hurt a little, though. If it were me, I would move heaven and earth for the chance to see her, but that's ok, I thought. All it means is that she doesn't want to see me as badly as I want to see her. Of course she doesn't, that's obvious.

Months passed with nothing, and I seriously fear, but refuse to believe, that she's just given up on me. But a particularly heartfelt drunken message from me is the impetus for a reunion. I spend the intervening time battling occasional bouts of tachycardia and hyperventilation, and now that it's day of, I'm basically useless. It's an effort just to dither around on the Internet. I feel as though at any moment I may pass out and then die. What if I can't make interesting conversation? What if it turns out that, even after four years, we have nothing to talk about? What if we've drifted apart?

What if she's not proud of me?

I'm not entirely sure why her approval means so much to me. I've basically lived my entire life by my own standards, laughing in the face of anybody who's judged me by theirs. With her it's different. In a lot of ways she's been a moral guidepost for me, a silent hip-check. More than once, I've traversed a difficult ethical decision by stopping and imagining which choice would make her more proud of me, if she were to ever find out. I've come incredibly far since the last time she saw me. I'm very truly almost a different person. I'm more capable, more understanding, more attuned...if she doesn't recognize the strides I've made, I'll be irreparably crushed.

We're supposed to rendezvous for dinner at Kyouto Eki Daikaidan. I locate it with difficulty, but by now I'm already running late. I can't remember if we're supposed to meet at the bottom or the top of this gigantic eleven-storey staircase. A hurried search doesn't turn her up. Where is she? Am I getting this place confused with some other eleven-storey staircase? How long do you suppose she'll wait for me before she leaves in disgust? If I can't find her, if I don't get to see her before she moves back to Toukyou and have to wait another year or more, my heart just might break.

Then I hear her call my name and I know I'm home. The conversation flows like sake from Suika's gourd. She asks me everything about my life from the last four years, and I open up to her about all the stuff I can't share with most people. She tells me I've matured, that I'm becoming a better person, and it's the most validating thing I've ever heard. She's working at one of the most prestigious ad shops in Japan. And she's getting married.

Rude Boy's Trip

Since yesterday we did something I wanted to do, today we're doing something Soymilk wants to do. Ever since the first time he visited Toukyou four years ago, he's wanted to take me to a maid cafe, and for just as long, I've steadfastly refused. But now I have a blog. Soymilk is determined that we look our best, because he “feels sorry for the girls when they have to talk to ugly loser guys all day.” He isn't satisfied with my clothes and makes me wear some of his. Then he does my hair. I look in the mirror and have to admit that, hey...I actually kind of look fucking good. I resemble a fashionable and fairly stylish Japanese guy. He goes for the suave schoolteacher.

Rude Boy: So are we ready for Akihabara? Or Akiba, as the uncool kids call it.

Soymilk: Or Seichi, as the even uncooler kids call it.

Rude Boy: Seichi?

Soymilk: As in “Sacred Land.” An actual Japanese otaku taught me that one.

My interests have broadened since high school so the impact has dampened, but Soymilk thinks it's the greatest place ever. Our first stop is a seven-storey manga shop next to the Taito building. The first two floors are mainstream, the next one up is doujinshi, and then everything after that is three solid floors of porn. So is the basement. It's a truly staggering number of volumes, shelved floor to ceiling in narrow aisles, organized by fetish. The clerks greet us with an unnervingly casual “irasshaimase,” and I really wish they wouldn't, because in a place like this, I'm pretty sure I'd rather be ignored.

Many titles are labelled “for adult only,” just in case you couldn't guess from the covers. Customers are of all ages and all walks of life, and Soymilk and I discuss what it must be like to run into, say, your teacher. There is also one couple, and the girl is quite adventurous about picking stuff up and flipping through it. She's pretty good-looking. So is the one girl working the register, which I would think would be a sales deterrent. Soymilk once left with two full bags of interesting stuff, and is convinced that we're not going to leave until I buy something. I don't.

With that done, it's time for the maid cafe. I almost die of humiliation en route. Basically, I can see no conceptual difference between maid cafes and prostitution. And I don't have any moral objection to either, but I the idea of doing either one myself makes my skeezes me right out. Soymilk assures me that embarrassment is normal, and maybe part of the fun.

We're handed a list of rules in English and Chinese, the last of which is “no asking for maids' personal information.” Makes perfect sense, but it raises some interesting questions. What constitutes “personal information?” No asking for mail addresses, sure, but how about whether or not they're originally from Toukyou? Their opinions on current events or cultural fixtures? What about their job? Obviously they'd say they love it, if they said anything at all, but what if I asked why they took it? What do their friends think? And, by the way, what do their boyfriends think? Cause Soymilk and I would both totally be ok with it. Also, how stringent is this rule? Will first-time transgressors be given a gentle reminder, or will the slightest intimation be met with the sole male employee leading them out by the scruff of their necks?

A maid appears, leads us to our table, and all but sits on the floor beside us, which makes me feel all gross again right after I'd pushed it down. Then she tells us to ring a bell when we're ready to order, and I nearly start formulating a graceful exit strategy right then and there. I take a look around the cafe. There are a few scattered tables, a single long one, a bar, and a stage. The customers, contrary to my imaginings, are mostly college-aged, with one rather smarmy older guy buying a ton of stuff and strutting around the place as if by winning the girls' attention he has accomplished something. On Soymilk's recommendation, I take the A Course, which includes a photo and a souvenir box of cookies. He gets a “furifuri shakkashakka” drink, which is made up of two random flavours chosen by the maids, then mixed in a cocktail shaker in front of you...with an accompanying song. That you have to participate in.

I'm handed a cork board of pictures that look like they were taken by a serial killer, and instructed to pick a maid from amongst them for my picture. It's a tough call, but one stands out, partly because she's kinda my type, and partly because in her photo she's kneeling on the ground, leaning slightly forward, and making an extremely sexual face at someone or something off-camera. Mortifyingly, they call my name over the speaker when it's time, and I have to go up on stage. My fears that she might be less hot in person are very much allayed. Pro tip: When they ask you which set of animal ears you want to wear, ask them to pick for you. They like it. Then you pose together and they write on your photo, which you treasure forever and keep in your wallet for four years. Or you do if you're Soymilk, anyway.

I picture the maids getting together on breaks and talking shit about their customers. “God I hate that guy. Have you seen the way he stares at us when he thinks nobody's looking? What a fucking creeper, no wonder he comes to us.” Soymilk is of the opposite view, believing that most of them probably have a sort of affection for their regulars. “They're so sad. That's why places like us exist. They just need someone to love them.”

As one final thing before we leave, Soymilk requests a game session with his favourite maid in the joint, and we approach the bench to play. The diceroll yields one where you have to steal bones from an electronic dog without it biting you. The two of us keep a razor eye on both the timer and the scorecard, and by the time it's finished it's terribly obvious that she's nudged her own significant lead into a tie. He wins a coin for his efforts, which she has him put into a machine and wins...a picture with her! And not a wallet-sized one, but one of the bigger ones that you normally have to pay extra for. Our chosen maids bring us our developed photos and chat with us until our time's up, and Soymilk pretends not to speak Japanese very well so that I can enjoy the attention. His follows us to the door to see us off. Pretty good service.

I got a "box of cookie" with my A Course, you'll recall. Fancy box. Let's open this up...

OMFG!!!! 

A package holding eight cookies, which are all also individually packaged.

Rude Boy: Good call on the clothes.

Soymilk: They seemed to be really interested in our ryuugakuing.

Rude Boy: Sure, they probably don't get too many foreigners they can actually talk to.

Soymilk: My maid was totally into me.

Rude Boy: That's what they all say.

Soymilk: I could just tell...it was in her attitude. Like it wasn't all fake like some of the others.

Rude Boy: Buddy. You're supposed to think that. It's literally their job to make you think that.

Soymilk: She let me win that game.

Rude Boy: Yes, but think about this, do you think she did that because she was into you, or because it's store policy to let first-time customers win? Or maybe even because we're foreigners and she cut us a break?

Soymilk: She was into me. I can tell.

He will spend the rest of the night bringing her up every fifteen seconds, and later find her ameblo.

Random foreign guy: Hey, excuse me, are you guys from here?

Rude Boy: Kinda. I'm actually from Kansai.

Random foreign guy: Oh, great. Do you guys know anything fun to do around here?

Soymilk: Have you been to a maid cafe? Or the arcade?

Random foreign guy: Yeah, we just came from there, actually...I'm pretty sure we've seen basically everything Akihabara has to offer.

Rude Boy: How about three floors of cartoon porn?

In case you were wondering.

Hey, it's Cool Old Dude! I thought they'd have taken this down when he was defeated.

Hey, it's Akiabaoo from Akiba's Trip!

Hey, it's the Sega Building from Akiba's Trip!

As our last stop before heading home, we hit the arcades for a bit, playing a couple rounds of MaiMai and then Pop.

Rude Boy: Is this song off?

Soymilk: Um, no...the whole game is off.

Finally, we locate a Gundam capsule machine. It looks kind of lame from the outside but if you like Gundam, trust me man, these things are fucking awesome. Basically Gundam is a large collection of loosely related anime series about various political factions waging war with giant humanoid robots called mobile suits. It's less stupid than it sounds. Although not by much. Anyway if you watch it enough it becomes very easy to imagine yourself as a mobile suit pilot, and this game lets you live out that dream. You can even connect to other people playing in totally different parts of the country and go on team missions together, acquiring better machines and stronger equipment as your infamy grows. You see? Arcades aren't quite dead yet.

The Internet doesn't have much in the way of instructions, and it's heartbreaking to lumber around stupidly not knowing how the hell to control your ZAKU II (or GM, if you're lame), even if it does have the effect of making you feel like a real pilot slowly learning the ropes. So here's a few pointers if you've never played: The hand controls operate your machine's feet (obviously!). To shuffle sideways, move both left or right; to turn on the spot, move one forward and one back. The right index trigger fires your primary weapon and the left one swings your melee weapon. The thumb buttons are for your special weapons. The right pedal boosts – maintain steady pressure because the boost ends immediately and becomes unusable for several seconds after disengaging, so you can't cheat the metre by feathering. The left pedal jumps, and a midair depression will fire up your jetpack, allowing a brief hover. It can be frustrating to start but it's rad once you get it down!

On Minegishi Minami's disgrace

日本人がこのブログを見つける場合：峯岸みなみは確かに悪い事してんけど、まったく知らん人の人生進路を判断するのはちょっと卑怯ちゃう？逆に、今こそなおさら応援が必要やん。やから憎むより、皆で愛情をあげようや！みぃちゃん、ファイト！

So AKB48 member Minegishi Minami (峯岸みなみ or みぃちゃん) spent the night at a guy's house, got caught, and, in a fit of panic while waiting for the axe to fall, shaved her fucking head. All right, this story is way old now, but since she's my favourite, I thought I should weigh in just a bit.

So first of all, can I just come out and say the no-dating rule itself is complete bullshit. I get it, I understand it's there because fans would go suicidal with jealousy if their favourite girl became sexually unavailable to them (not that they ever were), because the entire AKB brand is, after all, a wish-fulfillment fantasyland before all else. But you gotta admit it's a touch unreasonable, and also naiive, to expect these girls to refrain from any and all romantic and sexual affiliation for the years and years that they spend with the group. Certainly not in the prime of their youth. What the fuck are they gonna do, les out their whole careers?

(Side-note: They totally do, though. No, not maybe, not probably. They do. That many hot girls locked up with nobody but their producers and each other for company for days and weeks at a time? Get fucking real. Somewhere in Japan, or wherever they're touring, they could be having a six-girl orgy right now. You're welcome.)

Look, anybody who really “loves” these girls would be thrilled to see them develop romantic connections and pursuing their own human happiness. Fuck knows it's all they're gonna have when they get graduated, since they've spent their high school and university years getting what I imagine is only a bare minimum of education, developing skills that are useful for only one job – a job that's not particularly kind to women past the age of about 25, by the way. Hamasaki Ayumi is an exception; go ahead and tell me what ever happened to Yaida Hitomi. You've probably never even heard of her. But, ok. Crazy stalker fans. Transmuting the male gaze into gold bullion. Can't argue with results.

At the same time, nobody forced them to sign their contracts. They wanted to be idols, and that carries a certain opportunity cost. They knew the rules and agreed to them of their own free will. In that respect, the company had every right to demote her. She should be so lucky; I remember one member, a few years back, got expelled outright just for being photographed in public with a boy. Minami's merely being kicked down to kenkyuusei. My understanding is that she caught a little lenience since she's one of the original members. I'm not sure if this means that she'll eventually be in contention to re-join the main group as a full-fledged member, however, although obviously I certainly hope so. But it definitely won't happen if she's anything less than exemplary in both conduct and professional performance for the next year, minimum, and it's possible that she may be pressured to resign of her own accord.

When I first heard the news, my reaction was, in order:

1. Holy fuck, she's ugly now

2. Is this faked? Am I accidentally reading The Onion?

3. It's going to be awfully embarrassing to tell people she's my favourite from now on

4. At least I still have Miyazaki

And it wasn't until later that I realised how incredibly crass that was.

She was maybe a little bit stupid in spending the night at that guy's house, and she was definitely stupid in getting caught. (Not that she was exactly capable of blending into a crowd, even before her new look.) But let's have a little sympathy. We all have stories of alarmingly stupid shit we've done, and again, the no-dating rule – total bullshit.

I immediately thought that I should start lying about her being my favourite. Just to avoid the ensuing conversation – you like the crazy weirdo one who shaved her head? But I'm not gonna do that. I mean, I'm just some prick on the Internet, she'll never read this, she'll never hear me say it, but she needs fan support now more than ever. So go ahead and throw your lot in with Minami. If you liked her before, don't stop. And if you always had something against her, maybe don't amp up the Schadenfreude or spend too much time vilifying her on Facebook or anything, because she's a bright young person who made a mistake and you know nothing about her.

And maybe one day we'll see her get back to this:

SNSD - "Oh!" Japanese vs Korean lyrics comparison

Ever since SNSD/So Nyeo Shi Dae/Shoujo Jidai/Girls' Generation started releasing songs in Japanese, I've been kind of wondering how they were translated. Did the writers try to keep it literal, or were they more concerned with retaining the general feeling? Did they adjust for audience expectations? So, just for fun, let's have a little comparison. I picked “Oh!” because its Japanese is the least atrocious.

First of all, check out this video:

(If the link breaks, just YouTube search “snsd oh korean japanese.” There's a few of them.)

It's a video of the two songs synced, with each version separately relegated to one speaker. Pretty cool, eh? Although a little distracting. If you read both Korean and Japanese, maybe listen to it while reading the following chart. Let me know how that goes for you if you decide to try. Input overload. The Korean lyrics and translation come from here, the Japanese lyrics come from this video, and the Japanese translation is my own.

전에 알던 내가 아냐 Brand New Sound I’m not the girl you used to know, Brand New Sound	少女の笑顔で Brand New Sound A young girl's smiling face, Brand New Sound
새로워진 나와 함께 One More Round Do Something with the new me for One More Round	世界が回って One More Round The world turns, One More Round
Dance dance dance 'til we run this town	Dance dance dance 'til we run this town
오빠 오빠 I’ll be I’ll be Down Down Down Down Oppa oppa I'll be I'll be Down Down Down Down	オッパオッパ I'll be I'll be down down down down Oppa oppa I'll be I'll be down down down down
오빠 나좀 봐 나를 좀 바라봐 Oppa, look at me; just look at me!	大人には割りとなれない I can't quite become like an adult
처음 이야 이런 내 말투 Ha! This is the first time I’m talking like this, Ha.	それがいいよね、マイブーム Ha! That's just fine with me, Ha.
머리도 하고 화장도 했는데 I did my hair and even my makeup too.	メイクして心弾む I did my makeup and enlivened my heart.
왜 너만 나를 모르니 Why is it that you, you’re the only who doesn’t know?!	罠を掛けてダーリン Catch me in your trap, darling.
두근 두근 가슴이 떨려와요 Thump, Thump; My heart is trembling.	次々ハードル有っても Even if there are hurdles coming up
자꾸 자꾸 상상만 하는 걸요 Again and again, I keep imagining things.	ちょくちょくサクセス有るのよ Now and then I'll have some success.
어떻게 하나 콧대 높던 내가 What should I do?	乙女だわ、胸の鐘が I'm an innocent girl, the bell in my chest
말하고 싶어 With my head held high I want to say to you…	マッハァルゴッポ malhago sipeo
Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you.	Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh Oh Oh Oh oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah 많이 많이해 Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, A lot!	ah ah ah ah マニマニエイ ah ah ah ah manhi manhihae
수줍으니 제발 웃지 마요 Please don’t laugh at me, I’m embarrassed.	すぐにどこか行っちゃうよ I'm going to go somewhere right away.
진심 이니 놀리지도 말아요 It’s my real feelings, so please don’t make fun of me.	縮まらない距離やだよ I can't deal with a distance that won't close
또 바보같은 말 뿐야 Again, I keep saying those silly words.	どうかどうか繋いで Somehow, somehow, make a connection
전에 알던 내가 아냐 Brand New Sound I’m not the girl you used to know, Brand New Sound	少女の笑顔で Brand New Sound A young girl's smiling face, Brand New Sound
새로워진 나와 함께 One More Round Do Something with the new me for One More Round	世界が回って One More Round The world turns, One More Round
Dance Dance Dance 'til we run this town	Dance Dance Dance 'til we run this town
오빠 오빠 I’ll be I’ll be Down Down Down Down Oppa oppa I'll be I'll be Down Down Down Down	オッパオッパ I'll be I'll be Down Down Down Down Oppa Oppa I'll be I'll be Down Down Down Down
오빠 잠깐만 잠깐만 들어봐 Oppa, hold on. Hold on and listen to me.	お邪魔かな、ショックな現場 Am I intruding, this is where I'm shocked
자꾸한 얘기는 말고 Stop saying the words you keep saying.	彼女いるの？ Oh my God! You have a girlfriend? Oh my God!
동생으로만 생각하지는 말아 Don’t think of me as a younger sister.	どうせ今は恋人以下よ At best, right now I'm less than a lover
일년뒤면 후회 할걸 In a year you’ll probably regret it.	いつもの事 to face I want to face the way things are
몰라 몰라 내 맘은 전혀 몰라 You don’t know, really don’t know my heart.	無駄無駄電話をかけても Even if I uselessly phone you
눈치없게 장난만 치는걸요 You have no sense and joke around too much.	打ち明けちゃダメ、散るわよ！ I can't speak honestly, I'll be scattered!
어떻게 하나 이 철없는 사람아 What should I do? You immature person,	乙女なら一度決めたら Once an innocent girl makes up her mind,
들어봐 정말 Just listen to me!	ずっと待つの！ She'll wait forever.
Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you.	Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh! Oh! Oh! oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah 많이 많이해 Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, A lot!	Ah ah ah ah マジマジで！ Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, A lot!
수줍으니 제발 웃지 마요 Please don’t laugh at me, I’m embarrassed.	すぐに好きって言っちゃいそう I think I can't help but confess right now
진심 이니 놀리지도 말아요 It’s my real feelings, please don’t make fun of me.	縮まらない恋やだよ I can't deal with a love that doesn't get closer.
또 그러면 난 울지도 몰라 If you do that again, I might cry.	ショックなハート打ち抜いて Pierce my shocked heart
전에 알던 내가 아냐 Brand New Sound I’m not the girl you used to know.	少女の寝顔を Brand New Sound A young girl's sleeping face, Brand New Sound
뭔가 다른 오늘만은 뜨거운 난 Something’s different today, warm hearts.	見つめてお願い One More Night Please look at me, One More Night
Down Down Mirage The Find Now Down Down, don’t push, I’ll get angry.	Down Down 意地悪魔法は Down Down, malicious magic
오빠 오빠 이대로는 NoNoNoNo Oppa, oppa this right here, no no no no!	もたもたいらない NoNoNoNo I don't want this slow stuff, no no no no!
Tell me boy boy love it it it it it it it ah!	Tell me boy boy love it it it it it it it ah!
Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you.	Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh Oh Oh Oh oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah 많이 많이해 Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, A lot!	ah ah ah ah マニマニエイ ah ah ah ah manhi manhihae
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you!	Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah 많이 많이해 Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot!	ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah マジマジで！ Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot!
또 바보 같은 말뿐야 , oh~! Again I keep saying those silly words, oh~!	どうか、どうか繋いで , oh~! Somehow, somehow, make a connection, oh~!
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!	Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you!	Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah 많이 많이해 Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot.	ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah マジマジで！ Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot.
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh 오빠를 사랑해 Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oppa, I love you!	Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh オッパルサランゲイ Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! oppareul saranghae
ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah 많이 많이 Oh Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot, Oh!	ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah マジマジ Oh Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! A lot, a lot, Oh!

It pretty much speaks for itself, so I'm not going to offer much commentary, but the main thing you'll immediately notice is that not only has the general flavour of the song seem to have survived, but some lines are nearly identical or work at similar angles. That's no surprise, since a) the everything apart from the lyrics is identical between the two versions, b) it's the same group and thus they require a consistency in branding, and c) at least a quarter of the lyrics are completely meaningless in any language, so this exercise was geared less towards the bigger picture and more towards the exact manner in which the song was brought over. And of course we're examining it in a third language, which just brings it to a whole other level. Like I said at the beginning: just for fun. What's weird to me is that, just by putting the English lyrics side by side, the Korean version actually seems far more direct and less cutesy and innocent than the Japanese, which is the exact opposite of what I would expect.

Incidentally, why do recording companies think that pop songs must be in the native language of the target audience to be successful, and are they right? (Raise your hands everybody who's heard of Nelly Furtado's Spanish-language work.) Why did “The Boys” disappear overnight but “Gangnam Style” is the most-watched YouTube video ever? Are Japan and Korea going to keep exchanging soft culture, or is this just a passing thing, and if it persists, is that going to start affecting public perception of the opposing countries in question?

I don't have any answers, I just find it really interesting to see the same song wearing different clothes.

Translation notes

If I've messed something up, by all means let me know in the comments. I don't do this a lot. Please be kind.

大人には割りとなれない – this 「割となる」 business is something I've never encountered before and I couldn't find a satisfactory answer. Anybody care to explain it to me?
罠を掛けてダーリン – I feel like this is a dead-simple headscratcher here but I actually can't figure out who's being caught and who's doing the catching. Is she putting on her makeup and such as a trap to catch the guy, or to entice him to catch her?
いつもの事 to face – Wtf is this?
打ち明けちゃダメ、散るわよ！ - The first half is easy: she can't speak her feelings honestly (because the guy has a girlfriend.) But the 散る complicates it. Who are what is being scattered? I take it to indicate her frustration with the whole situation.
乙女なら一度決めたら/ずっと待つの - I believe “maiden” is the go-to translation on this one, implying all the chastity and feminine beauty that implies, but it's a bit too literary here, so I went with “innocent girl.” I wasn't sure how to translate ずっと、since it really means something like “the whole period of time,” meaning she'll wait for as long as it takes, until he breaks up with his current girlfriend or acknowledges SNSD as his one true love or whatever, but I figured that the colloquialism “forever” would get the job done. Incidentally, I really like this line for some reason.
すぐに好きって言っちゃいそう – More literally, “I'm somewhat embarrassed or regretful to say that it seems as though I will very soon tell you 'I like you.'” But that didn't fit on one line.