An Eternal Thought in the Mind of Godzilla

One Does Not Usually Live More Than Once

At last night’s B.A.D. (Business and Death) Bonenkai party, co-sponsored by the Gimsho of Darkness, F-ko-san slipped me a copy of Takao Saito’s ancient manga adaptation of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

Initial impressions: Blofeld is black and has a Momus-like eye patch. Bond looks like a younger and slightly more emotional version of Golgo 13. A master of disguise, he slips into a fake beard and a big hat on practically every other page.

Biggest deviations from the novel and film: Bond is forced to dress like a gladiator and fights a lion in a 1/1 scale Roman coliseum impossibly housed inside Blofeld’s château. The ending is a doozy too, with Tracey speeding off, leaving Our Man trapped inside a rapidly filling gas chamber.

This, of course, never happened to the other fellow.

More on Saito's Bond here.
 

Bye-Bye A-boy

A rare shot of aspiring author Pedro Edogawa after his marriage to a broke-ass computer, collecting images to make a photo CD to give to Ohta Shuppan so he can go someplace warm and eat Hiroshima style okonomiyaki.

Sounds of Uchu Ace in the other room. Honda-san and me doing marathon sessions. Mini history lessons on the Shinsengumi in-between. My best theory: Hijikata was killed by a magic bullet from Dallas, 1963 traveling so fast, it went back in time. Or maybe it was just friendly fire

Cold in here, hence the retarded scarf and Final Fight fingerless gloves. Only thing keeping me sane: the Kamen Rider X theme on repeat play. I’m pretty sure it’s the first mention of G.O.D. in Japanese pop culture. There will be others.

Some bits. Slasher says he and Anal Pearl Harbor hate otaku because they becoming the Japanese equivalent of white trash. Collecting limited edition and vintage items means you got money, but Pepsi bottle caps only show how cheap you really are. Maybe the only solution is to get their own economy with a monetary system called “Geeks.” Thrity geeks gets you a nice foot massage at an Akiba maid kissa, but would only be worth about 5 yen in the real world.

Oh, and they should all be put on an island somewhere and nuked, but that goes without saying.

Psytama

As civilization and short pants reached their apex, a Japanese child smiled...

Shinmon Masato (remember him?) also sang the Star Wars theme (remember Star Wars?) once with the addition of incredible Japanese lyrics. Wish I could show you the sleeve art but it can't be Googled, seems. Made The War in Space look like Arrivederci Yamato...

Sukoshi Kanashii

The monitor begins dying on my laptop about a week ago. Since then, the weather like this: Occasional freezes giving way to full on psychedelic lightshows. Trippy, pretty, and last of all useless.

(Yes, an Irwin Toys Sailor Moon doll...)

After 5 months of all-love, only useful as a keyboard. And after all I did for the bitch. Taking her everywhere, putting stickers on her to make her look pretty…never any good when someone walks out on you during winter, but so doubly so now.

Tomo says the next book, the one for Ohta Shuppan, that might be called Otaku in USA, comes out for real in February (a month after the “We Hate Otaku Trend” is set to begin from the same publishing house) which means I have one week for image collection and permission begging. So this is how I hafta limp towards the finish line...

At least one day so far spent punching the screen trying to make it work in a café in Koenji, angrily picking at my Mexican Dog, slurping the last of the Berry Shake as it turns into noisy ice. Like I care…Rewrites, request for quotes for the Tokyo Shimbun (give me a column, plz), and the odd email from you to answer. What am I supposed to do in Shocking Asia with no compy to play with?

Sprint to Akihabara on a saving throw, of course. There, buy a new screen on the cheap. Say what the fuck you want about the place, but give it some credit for being useful. Oh, and the omiyage  manjyu they sell is nice too..

(Dig the goka rainbow reflections. I wonder what kinds of DVDs and Movies those stores sell...Honda-san and I wondering if this is some sick idealized version of Akiba, or merely a glimpse of the future. 600 yen at Laox.)

A back alley store sets me up with a used IBM rig. We test it out in the alley before the buy as some famous MTV punks I saw in Shibuya the day drift past. Me, on my knees, fingers fast on the keyboard, free-jacking into the mainframe. Running around the area dressed like a Death Wish looter afterwards. Cradling heavy bubble wrap, too big for makeshift handle.

My winter look is 2-D fighter bad guy: wallet chain, bulky upper body. Masami shows me where they keep the black knit fingerless gloves in Shibuya the night before. The best bit about Tokyo. No one laughs when I dress like this.

(The next step will be handcuffs as a useless waist accessory. People need to start wearing the nuclear danger symbol more these days. Who is that guy who comes in threes, about to start trouble when he exits the train? Art by Joey Coco.)

I get back home with the monitor. I plug and play. All day here now Googling on “Spectreman” and “Gundam USA.” Bu-chan as cold as Inokashira koen. But even the koi and ducks there are still alive. Cat sized daggers and book reviews coming out of his eyes. He wishes I was in some crummy café somewhere instead of hovering around his food dish. But I won't be leaving the event horizon for a couple of days.

Cold. As cold as outside. And everything broken or freezing up.

The howler: I check the label on my new muffler. The one I bought for 900 yen at Ameyoko.

You can't read the fine print, because my camera is busted along with my laptop, headphones, and heart. It reads, and I shit you not, "Brown County Association for Retarded Citizens," which gets a laugh and explains a lot.

I mean, why else would we both end up here?

Nakareba Narimasen

Oh man. NHK has updated their Ego de Shabera Nighto website with a krazy photo collage of the upcoming episode I'm featured in. It looks like this...

Joey Coco says, "it looks like the Mysterians are showing them around town. Did you tell them to please wear their capes?"

Personally, I think the look is more Planet X...

Bireley's Orange Soda

Ok. I am officially excited about King Kong. Hard not to be here in Tokyo, where the natives are getting restless. Proof.

Here’s an old sleeve for Shimon Masato’s King Kong, containing such hits as “Rock, Rock, Godzilla,” "King Kong Dance," and the "Zone Fighter" theme song. Masato looks how I feel whenever I get off the train in Shinjuku...

Yamazaki666 posted the image on mixi to promote his Giant Monster Festival 2006 event at Loft Plus One, Jan/15.

Also, King Cone promotions as Raskin Bobbin’s. These ads stopped me dead in my tracks when I walked by them in Shibuya the other day. Giant Monkey flavored and not a banana split in the bunch...

And of course, what’s a media blitz without the presents? Hopefully, all three accessories will sweep the 109 store and girls will do enjo kosai for ice cream.

Doubutsu-sen

Today, you had oyakodon with Jan Kurotaki...

Kenkyushimasu

December things with my stuff in it includes...

A two page feature on Akihabara and gashapon appears in the winter issue of Kateigaho International magazine.

A 2003 interview I did with John Woo is in the new book (cunningly titled) John Woo Interviews, published by University Press of Mississippi.

Profile of Ben Dunn for the new issue of Figure Oh .

Dakko-chan

The best part about having a birthday: the bit where it starts to rain loot. This year, a ding-dong lot of it, vacuum packed with food, folks, and fun.

It ended just a few seconds ago when Honda-san, a man with deep, deep entertainment industry connections, slipped me the new top secret game from Nintendo that’s about to sweep the electri-mag spectrum like a Black Friday shopping spree.

Wait. Scratch that.

It’s actually the very first goddamn game the House of Mario ever made: a pack of hanafuda cards. Honda handed it over and promised to teach me to play. Soon as he does, expect a Crazy Generation of Gambling to begin bakuto.

Actual factual. The real B-day was on the 4th. Slasher and Betty made arrangements for slabs of BBQ mutton, Genghis Khan-kei, in Yotsuya-san chome inside some place that looked like a set from Das Boot minus the periscopes. And just as soon as I thought I was getting used to it, they hit me with mad gift.

A radio controlled 1/34 scale replica of Bunta Sugawara’s big rig from the Truck Yaro movies. The phrase “mother of God” sprung to mind, and then I remembered that some of those present were actually Satanists.

This thing is soooo fucking hardcore. Lights up like an LSD Xmas tree, two sounds on the remote: a big honking horn and an engine rev-up makes like a monster in heat. All come from Bandai factory in China where they hopefully force the workers to watch 17 Truck Yaro movies in a row before they slap the stickers on.

Then, Mad-K throws down a Beat Crusader’s CD, F-Ko-san with a trio of gashapon, and Hawk and his g contributed a 12 pack of grape Mentos, good for when you need a blood-sugar rush, like during a Chikyu Boegun 2 all-nighter. Anal Pearl Harbor, bless that name, had a post-war Okura eiga DVD up his sleeve, about a beauty queen (Miss Pacific Ocean) who is transformed into a horrible monster thanks to an ugly old burakumin. Late-comer Hen na Nihonjin, a bit of savior with cell phone promos out of her pocket.

Dog sitting in the driver’s seat of car just outside. Why?

Afterwards, we hit the Mother Teresa New Half bar. Pounded by sparklers and champagne. The “girls” put on a show with a riot “please buy our shitty tako-yaki” skit. Same stuff as last time, otherwise, but the word classic applies. The Ministry of Culture should recognize the place as a national treasure.

Then things got blurry. I remember some Steely Dan and people taking turns controlling the truck at DMX. The sound of crows pecking at trash and hosts yelling good night / good morning to each other in deep Kabuki-cho.

Breakfast at McDonalds. You know you had fun when you eat like that…Big Mac, medium fries, and biggest Coke you have. Insane all-Beatles soundtrack. Wolfing down two-all beef while Tomorrow Never Knows blares.

1:10 screening of the new Steven Seagal flick: Into the Sun, shot in a strange and violent country call: Zipangu. Big opening scene. The governor of Tokyo gets capped by a motorcycle hit squad. Chiaki Kuriyama seen in exactly two shots. A bit of tedium, but some laughs for sure. Best bit: Seagal mashing some Yuh-Koo-Zah’s face into a trio of pachinko machines and then throwing him out the window. Looks like they filmed it at the Jumbo pachinko in Shinjuku. Seagal walking through Shin Okubo saying, “this is where I grew up.” But a lot of him driving around and loops of recycled helicopter footage of Tokyo bay. No Out For Justice, for sure, but worth it in a pinch, like if you can’t remember what 1987 was like (answer: hella violent, dude).

Then I sat on the RC truck and drove myself home. This weekend, I’ll be rolling over to the Sado Islands where I will befriend a widow with lots of children and run afoul of the Jaws gang. Or maybe I’ll just stay in the Meishotai and read tarot cards for spare change inside the International Science Shotengai.

I can tell 33 is going to be weird already…

(bird flu, human to human, 1-kai, from mother holding dying child in her arms all nighto)

Mondai

Col. Baldwin. No longer a colonel at all, but doing his best impression thereof. Once the proud handler of the ESPY splinter branch of the grand Zipangu jimas. Now, an old man, rail thin, in an officer's suit he had to patch up by himself. And with very little time. The DMT experiments have  made his hands shaky, that way for the last 10 years or so. Different shades of black and frayed thread hold the stolen MUNI bus driver pants together. His smell is ashtray critical. Let the idiots run for the Immigration area, he thinks. This much he knows by heart: five minuets doing nothing near the boarding area buy ten at the luggage carousel. Parliaments, he smokes. Habit acquired from Fujioka-san, who threw his spares at Baldwin when he realized he didn’t need them anymore.

Fujioka. After Istanbul. Something red and burning in his brain. Every cell trying to move forward, only to find that physics would not allow for exceptions.

“This dog needs love!" he told Balwin, arm thrusting repeatedly towards a fire hydrant minus a four-legged friend.

"That’s all he cares about! All he needs! And so, he is loyal! We need to be more like this dog! All of mankind!"

He bents over sideways, and the pack falls out of his left pocket. A shame to waste them just like that.

Fujikoa in a "Mickey House" in Saitama now. Going bonkers meant no coffee-shop-in-Shinjuku package; the ‘sayonara deal’ like most first-gen ESPY staff got.

And so Baldwin lights up, now every chance he gets, thousands of health points to burn when you start as late as he does. Grinding the white shaft now against faded ashtray steel. The smoke is done.

Standing in front of unfriendly immigration lady. She smells like a Duty Free in miniature. A beautiful face with almond-joy eyes. Some freckles tossed around the cheeks.  He can tell she’s fat, though. Beefy pantyhose hamhawks. Just the tops of them. Long hair, simply parted down the middle. Amazing how rare such an elegant, simple look is these days. Everything about her spells “heisei, and I don’t care.”

The worst thing that ever happened to this country was the Taishomei era. Well, we’ll soon change that, Baldwin thinks as thin fingers trace  the notebook inside his tattered uniform, the one with the mecha designer’s address in it (nope, no cell phone, neither).

She’s not going to let him in. He has no passport. But there's one more analog trick up his sleeve. A classic.  Money. A wad of it from the last port of call.

Reno.

“Come on,” he says in Saiyuri-perfect Japanese. “Just take this and let me in. Buy that handbag you want.”

She remembers that her four month cycle is about to come up. A yellow unforgiving light. And you need something new if you are going to parade down the Avex Group lights with anything resembling the ancient human emotion known as pride. She nods towards the ashtray on the other side of the line and lets Col. Craig Baldwin pass into Japan for the 109th time.

And that’s how the Goka Jyu-pun Senso first began.

Jingi Star

Today, we shot an episode of Eigo de Shabera Night in Akihabara.

I was the special guest and I will teach you English.

That’s me with co-host Yumiko Shaku (Princess Blade, Godzilla Vs. Mecha Godzilla, Sky High). She totally got into a maid outfit and everything. Rad.

Looks like it’s going to air on NHK in Japan on January 2^nd.

It was a beautiful day, so after the taping; I went to Asakusa to pay homage to the Sumida River, Kafu Nagai-style. Here is the view from the Azuma bashi.

Then, I took a very romantic boat ride by myself up the river. I sat in the front and ate a bag of popcorn. The Himiko boat designed by Leiji Matsumoto passed us by and briefly made the waters all choppy.  

(Man, if only it had some cannons or gun turrets on it, it would be the shit.)

Then, I ate a big tempura dinner near the Kaminari-mon. Afterwards, I did my usual Shinto prayers at the Kannon Temple and walked around Roku-za listening to Momoe Yamaguchi MP3s.

I took the Ginza line to Ueno, and then walked back through Akihabara to the Sobu-sen. Along the way, I stopped at an arcade to play the new Cobra game.

Meanwhile, I'm old (my birthday was on the 4th) and I am going to die someday, probably horribly, but for right now, I have zero in the way of complaints.