At the end of jet lag, the trance state dissipates. Three days in Akihabara helped, sniffing out the NTT building and the new Yodobashi Akiba monster-store: Disney-fied Akiba-kei for the whole rotten family. Much more about it later…
In the meantime:
Met with the staff of Kategaiho International Magazine. Going to write a feature about Akihabara and the ubiquitous gashapon capsule for their winter issue. Should be out…well, when it’s colder and the earth is farther away from the sun, I guess.
Waltzed over to the Shogakukan building to be interviewed by Sapio magazine about the “Soft Power” of Japan, meaning “why are Americans going bananas over Japanese stuff?” I opened up by telling them the story of one Guy Mariner Tucker, the first US tokusatsu fan who made the trip and met his Japanese SF fan contemporaries. This was back in 1980. All they wanted to talk about was Superman the Movie, which kind of bummed him out. Where are they all now, I wonder?
Sapio bills itself as the “international intelligence machine.” Although, as some who should probably remain anonymous says Sapio is thought of more as a"rightwing, patriotic, fanatic magazine for ultra nationalist” so hopefully this means I’m upwardly mobile. The issue will street here on October 25th.
Also in the pipeline, a feature for Wired magazine about a subject very dear to all of out hearts. I’ll say no more for now. Carl Gustav Horn (“who is this man with a name like a Swedish king?” Tomo once wrote) is contributing also to Wired now, so it’s kind of like Pulp magazine now, only without the funnies and better advertising.
Editor Tomo called up and said my next book OTAKU IN USA is being delayed yet again so I can increase the page count and the publisher can raise the price. This really feels like the Neverending Story Part 2, but at least I can always have something to worry about in the back of my mind. Paranoids need that sort of thing…
I haven’t thought too much about experimental Tokyo SF novel since I got back here last week. Pedro Edogawa has sort of taken over and all I want to do is imagine how weird and sexy the Meiji and Taisho eras must have been. I can’t imagine anyone really being able to romanticize the Heisei, i.e. right now, too much.
Downtime is taken up by Fight Night Round Two for the PS2. Boxing bliss. You can even set “Yes Yes Y’all” by the Geto Boys as your entrance music, so this one was clearly made for me. Best bit: being able to play as Jake LaMotta, the Raging Bull. Worst bit: he doesn’t say, “did you fuck my wife?” no matter how hard you mash the buttons.
Next week: Tokyo Fantastic Film Festival and the 10th anniversary of Eiga Hiho magazine.
I wonder who that anonymous person could be. Still, I regret now having to actually buy SAPIO in order to check out THE ARROGANCE MANIFESTO, as opposed to merely reading from the heaped stacks at my leisure in the lunch room. Is it just me, or is every cover story they run about the SDF doing wargames? I should like to know if they ever come up with kaiju-eigaesque code names for them.
I fell by the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival this Saturday. This year's new guest of honor was Patti Smith, whom, if it wasn't known before, is hereby revealed (she describes Lovecraft as her "chum"). I pointed out that she was doing that whole yaoi thing years before anyone with "Horses."
But my own experience with HPL fans has been limited to Alvin Lu and Jason Thompson; therefore I don't know quite what I expected from the attendees. I guess I had hoped for an even mix between wigg'd and knee-breech'd Georgian attire, and pulp-era fedoras and three-piece suits; looking like our ancestors always did in those Depression-era photos—like they'd cut your throat for a can of tomatoes.
Instead there was a strong impression of ponytails—in manga no longer resident in high school as they were in the '80s, now pushed back to no later than the moemoe precincts of the fourth grade. But these ponytails were on men, for they were also bearded and wore kilts of black leather. Piercings had been distributed, and I again felt shame at my conformity.
There was one genuinely macabre conceit: a small sticker bearing the American flag, now altered, or, perhaps, revealed, to show it as a wash of blood descending from a night-field of stars, like milk from the breast of Hecate; its pale stripes risen against the red to writhe as tentacles. Below was the italic slogan, in unpunctuated sans-serif, NO MORE YEARS.
—C.
Anno: Soshite, moo hitotsu kirai na mono ga arimashita...
Naomi: SEX nan-te kirai yo!
Anno: Dooshite?
Naomi: Datte, kimochi warui mon.
—from "Naomi-chan Monogatari," Hideaki Anno, 1985
Posted by: Carl Horn | October 09, 2005 at 02:00 PM