Nod.
Nod, nod, nodding
nodding nodding, nod.
Stop. No more nodding.
His chin's on his chest. Asleep. My chance. Leave the TV on, it'll wake him up
if I. Gently, gently, don't creak, good. Softly. Now the handle. Don't creak,
d-o-o-n't. Good, good. Out.
My room. Lie down,
it's in the drawer beside the bed, quick get it. About half way through where
the page is dog-eared. Shhht. Take it out and get going you've been waiting all
day haven't you. Clutching it now ready to
Fuck the door turning
under, under under the bed now!
“What? Whatareyou? Ah
no! AH NOT AGAIN! At your age would you not have given it up? Ah for God's
sake. Ah Screedeity for God's sake. Tom!? To-oom ?! TOM! HE'S BLOODY AT IT
AGAIN”
*****
Yes! We Can Believe To The Change
An interview with Seiji
Ogawa, the “Japanese Obama”.
Interview by Toshio
Yoshida
Translated by Donald
Keene
Golden spring sunlight pours through the
window as I sit down in a quiet suburban teahouse to conduct the first ever
interview with maverick LDP politician Seiji Ogawa. Mr.Ogawa's outspoken
liberal views on such topics as immigration, the economy, and Japanese society,
as well as rumours regarding his provenance, have led to him being dubbed the
“Japanese Obama” - something hard to believe when I look at the meek, smiling
face in front of me. Of course, the single greatest contributing factor to the
Japanese Obama myth is 'That Rumour', namely that Ogawa's
great-great-great-great-great grandfather may have been a Korean. To get it out
of the way, I ask him about that first. “Completely without foundation.” Things
go a little quiet. Outside the window three elderly dog walkers stand gathered
in gossip. We begin our conversation again with some amicable smalltalk about
the view in front of us.
Yoshida: It's a fine thing to see senior
citizens enjoying their twilight years. And I have to comment on the excellent
behaviour of their dogs. To me, it seems a true testament to the Japanese
spirit that even people's dogs comport themselves with dignity and grace.
Ogawa: Oh, that's what you see? I'd have
to disagree – explain yourself to me!
Yoshida: Well, now I feel as if I'm the
one being interviewed! You certainly have a unique style Mr. Ogawa! Okay, here
goes. You might notice that the dogs are standing in a perfect isosceles
triangle. The first dog sniffs the anus of the second, the second dog sniffs
the anus of the third, and the third, the anus of the first. Then, at precisely
the same moment, they all about-face; now the first dog is sniffing the anus of
the third, the third the anus of the second, and the second that of the first.
Every dog has sniffed each of the other dog's anuses, all with a beautiful
Euclidean economy of movement. Oh, I say, look at that! In a final gesture they
all turn inwards and simultaneously sniff each other's noses! It really is a
disciplined performance!
Ogawa: Well, on a superficial level, you
have a point. I grant you that foreign dogs probably wouldn't have the wit to
do it that way – instead they'd scrabble all over each other, snarling, with
the biggest dog sniffing all the anuses and the smallest getting to sniff none.
That's individualism, I suppose. But what about the act itself? Isn't it
somewhat...degrading?
You know, that reminds me, I've even heard that
in parts of Africa some people still greet one another that way!
I have a story about that by the way which you might like to hear. At a benefit
dinner a few months ago I actually had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Obama,
though of course at that time he was merely the president-elect. We were seated
together at the same table. Naturally I was aware of his ethnic background so,
gritting my teeth, I thought I would stoop to make a gesture of inter-cultural
friendship and rather than bowing or shaking hands, I got up from my chair,
walked to his rear and, leaning low, took a sniff, fully expecting him to reciprocate.
I have to tell you I was quite surprised to see him jump out of his seat,
startled. We all know that, for a foreigner, the new president does a good job
of keeping calm and composed; as evidence of the level of his shock, let me
just say that a few choice exclamations escaped his mouth, words that I would
have thought well below the leader of the free world. His handlers swarmed
round me (me, a silver haired Japanese patrician!) and even had the gall to try
and escort me out of the room, but thankfully Obama himself had enough sense to
call them off. For a moment the idea flashed through my mind that I had been
misinformed about African customs, but I was just as swiftly able to reassure
myself. Was not the information given to me by none other than Mr. Asahiro
Kobayashi, an alumnus of Tokyo University and CEO of a large and successful
company, who plays an excellent round of golf to boot? Mr. Kobayashi's family
is old and well respected, being able to trace their roots back several hundred
years in Kyoto. Furthermore, several LDP ministers and even one former Prime
Minister have been drawn from the Kobayashi clan. So it had to be Mr. Obama
who's knowledge was at fault. To tell the truth, the dinner went rather
awkwardly afterwards, with the president-elect barely concealing his eagerness
to be on his way. I suppose he knows less about foreign customs than we might
have been led to believe, despite all this fanfare over his mottled
pedigree...but that's always the way with the American-Japanese relationship,
they always fail to appreciate the lengths we go to to please them.
Now, where was I...ah yes, dogs, we were talking
about dogs, well let me tell you, our original Japanese breeds – the Akita-ken,
the Tosa, the Shiba-ken – they used to greet one another by delicately sniffing
the tips of their curled tails. It was only with the introduction of foreign
breeds with their vulgar tastes that dogs in Japan began to greet one another
by thrusting their noses up each other's rear ends. I think it sums up the
peril faced by Japanese culture in the face of gaudy, irresistible Western
lifestyle quite well, actually. Why sniff a tail when you could sniff a saucy,
stinky rectum? Why settle for the austere plainness of a ball of cold rice when
you could chow down on a greasy, gratuitous cheeseburger? But where everyone is
a rectum-sniffer, then you have to be one too – that's what globalisation
means.
Yoshida: Wow, I'd never thought of it that
way before! You know, that reminds me of the story so often told about the
philosopher Nishida and the bee...
Ogawa: Ah yes, how did it go
again...Nishida, lost in deep thought, accidentally came close to some bees who
were gathering pollen in his garden. One of the bees flew up to his ear and
buzzed to the great philospher, letting him know that he would have to sting
him, and apologising in advance. Nishida told the bee that he would be stinging
the planter of the flowers on whose pollen he and his hive relied. The bee,
shocked, buzzed several apologies, cried out to the Emperor, and then stung
itself in the face and died. Thus was the honour of the hive preserved. Of
course bees in Japan have not behaved that way since the importation of more
aggressive and undisciplined Western breeds during the Meiji era....I can understand
why some people seem to think it is all part of some great conspiracy to
destabilise the nation.
Yoshida: It's true, my father's hobby was
maintaining an apiary, and Japanese bees really have become too individualistic
these days. I have to say, it really is a privellege to be in the presence of
such a refined man. And that leads me on to my next question: how do you
respond to Prime Minister Aso's recent comments that Western nations caused the
phenomenon known as global warming deliberately, in order to cause a negative
impact on Japanese economic productivity? Some people say that you disagree
with the Prime Minister, and that you are a liberal “loose cannon”.
Ogawa: Well, as I understand the Prime
Minister's argument, and it's a technical one, global warming has caused the
cherry trees to blossom on average five days earlier than previously. The
effect of this is a twelve percent increase in the chance of the blossoms being
at their height midweek, meaning that bosses have to hold company hanami picnics
on a workday, which reduces productivity and competitiveness.
Yoshida: Not to mention the hangovers the
next day which must cost the company even more...the Prime Minister makes a
strong case!
Ogawa: Yes, quite. But I think where the
Prime Minister goes wrong is in attributing that amount of forethought to
foreigners. They just don't have it. Foreign Westerner malice is like the
malice of wayward children, not the cunning of Heian Era court intrigue. I
think if anyone's to blame, it's the Chinese. Besides, the global warming
blossom crisis just provides an opportunity for some clever entrepreneur to do
what I have been suggesting all along: produce retractable plastic cherry
blossom trees that can be put up for hanami picnics whenever it best suits employers!
Picnics could even be held in the office if it happened to be raining or if
time conservation was an issue. This really embodies how innovation and
tradition can go hand in hand in modern Japan. Furthermore, this would allow
existing cherry blossoms to be felled, and the areas where they stood could be
covered in top-quality Japanese cement on which the plastic trees could be
erected at any time of year. Imagine how the sight of beautiful cherry blossoms
all year round would boost tourism! So not only is it a convenient idea, it is
also an opportunity to create jobs and stimulate the economy! Given the sheer
number of the old-fashioned organic cherry blossoms in Japan and the number of
opportunities that would be generated by their removal, I have placed this
scheme at the centre of my economic stimulus package.
Yoshida: Listening to you now, you seem
quite a traditional voice. Maybe you could explain for our readers why exactly
it is you are called the Japanese Obama? Let's start with your foreign policy
experience..
Ogawa: Well, many Japanese have quite
limited experience of foreign travel – but not me! For my honeymoon, my wife
and I visited Hawaii for five days...
Yoshida: I'm sorry! Five days? Five whole
days?
Ogawa: Yes, it was rather extravagant! We
almost forgot how to speak Japanese!
We both laugh heartily at this. When we
have regained our composure, Mr. Ogawa continues his explanation:
Anyway, we spent five days there, and unlike many
Japanese, who, when confronted by a wily foreigner asking, as a ruse, for
example, for directions (always a prelude to robbery or rape), step backwards
meekly bobbing like a woodpecker, smiling and apologising until they crash into
whatever is behind them, I took the Americans on at their own game. One big fat
man approached my wife “asking for directions” – I could tell he had his eye on
her, they just love our women and unfortunately women, so weak-willed...
Yoshida: Oh I know...you know they call
them “Yellow Cabs”?
Ogawa: Monstrous! Anyway, he had his eye
on her and he said (speaks English) “Whea izu beechu?”
or something like that. Imagine, brazenly demanding my wife and calling her,
what is it, a “bitch”, to my face like that! Anyway, I pushed Michiko behind me
and hit at the man twice with a folded up brochure for our hotel, shouting
“Stop! Stop! Help!” in our national language, which is quite widely understood
in Hawaii. Luckily the man received a paper cut near his eye as a result of one
of my blows, incapacitating him, and a policeman came to my aid. Imagine, the
scoundrel claimed to have been looking for the beach!
Yoshida: It really beggars belief! And I
understand your adventure in Hawaii is not your only experience of
international relations?
Ogawa: You are quite right. I visited
Hokkaido recently and went to the northernmost tip, the town of Wakanai, from
where, on a sunny day, you can just about see “Sakhalin”, as our Russian
neighbours refer to that disputed territory.
Yoshida: You saw Sakhalin... and lived?
Ogawa: No. Thankfully on that day it was
obscured by a haze, but I caught the stink of the Russian Bear on the wind
nonetheless. It chilled me to my bones. Since that day I have determined that I
must enter office to protect the people of Hokkaido from further encroachment
at the hands of Putin and his lackey Medvedev, even if it means the destruction
of the island itself. Practically speaking, I have already pushed to have
Russian sailors barred from hot springs, restaurants, and other such
establishments, a move which I believe sends a clear message to Russia about
its increasingly aggressive foreign policy. Even more radically, I have even
made preliminary arrangements for the contingency of a nuclear strike by North
Korea. In such a situation, our nation will be nuclear bombed pre-emptively by
our own JSDF forces in order to preserve national dignity and bring glory to
the Emperor through his people's loving sacrifice.
However, not everything is doom and gloom when it
comes to international relations. A few years ago when I went to Guam...
Yoshida: Guam! Guam! You've been to Hawaii
and Guam!
Ogawa: Yes, I know, quite the Marco Polo.
Anyway, it was in Guam that I first really laid eyes on a foreign woman. You
see the hula dancers there don't wear very much – just grass skirts and little
leafy tiaras, plus bras of course – and as I was watching her I realised that,
anatomically at least, there really are not that many differences to, for
example, my wife. In fact in some ways I found her preferable to my wife, who
has aged somewhat since the birth of our daughter, so much so that I
volunteered to help her get down off the stage, and while doing so orchestrated
a little “accidental contact” between my hand and her buttock!
We both stop to laugh at Mr. Ogawa's
daring-do. After a while, he continues, his eyes twinkling:
Ogawa: So anyway, if they are physically
similar to us, that means that they can do similar physical tasks to us, and maybe
we can even do certain things together, in a spirit of co-operation.
Yoshida: Sir, what kind of things?
Ogawa: Ha, ha. You journalists do love
pretending to be naive, don't you? Well, let me tell you about my grandfather.
Now he was quite an adventurer. In the heady days of the Greater East Asia
Co-prosperity Sphere, when our nation, under the guidance of the Emperor, was
attempting to liberate East Asia from the influence of the Western colonial
powers, my father did quite a bit of traveling with the army, and how would you
say it, sowed his wild oats all round the Pacific? He was a very popular man
indeed with the ladies, and has even joked on television that 30 percent of the
current population of Manila and 46 percent of the current population of Nanjing,
not to mention the entire populations of various smaller towns and villages,
may well be his direct descendants! So popular was he in fact that when he
returned to Japan as a result of an injury in 1943 to resume the running of the
family's munitions factory and pig-iron works, thousands of eager volunteers
from Korea, China and elsewhere flocked back with him to help him run the
factory, all without any question of payment!
Yoshida: That really shows the spirit of
internationalisation and true globalisation that was possible under the Emperor
System!
Ogawa: Well, if they hadn't cheated with
those bombs, if they'd had a bit more honour, who can say where we'd be today?
Anyway, there's no point crying over spilt milk, as you know. What you might be
glad to know is that I have revived some of my father's initiatives.
Yoshida: Really? How so?
Ogawa: Well, in my private life, I found
myself more and more drawn to foreign hostess bars when out wining and dining
other party members and powerful businessmen. And I found that some of these
women were willing to co-operate with me on my research concerning interracial
physiological compatibility, for a price of course, a price that only a well-positioned
gentleman like myself could consider paying. Ah, the perks of office. Anyway, I
tasted many different coloured fruits, exotic fruits, starting with a fine
blonde Russian, Slutskaya, who positively towered over me and for whom I
developed a lingering affection, even compelling one of my subordinates to
marry her for me so that she might procure permanent residency, and I can say
that we Japanese are, at least in a physical respect, compatible with all of
them, not just Asians. Of course, Japanese men are often worried that they
won't “measure up” to the kinds of men these women have had before, but let me
tell you that though it may be small, the Japanese erection is famous the world
over for its almost diamond-like hardness!
Yoshida: I see! Did you even do it with
a....
Ogawa: Yes, with a black woman.
Yoshida: I never would have imagined they
have the same parts! How was it?
Ogawa: Ha, ha, wouldn't you like to know!
Roomy!
Both of us laugh uproariously at Mr.
Ogawa's joke. When we finally settle down, I pursue the subject.
Yoshida: But surely, Sir, you haven't just
put your grandfather's discoveries into practice in the personal sphere? How
about for the benefit of the Japanese public?
Ogawa: Of course my research was
undertaken with the good of the Japanese public in mind. Well, as you know, the
Japanese economy is struggling at the moment as a result of the aging
population, and the science of robotics has not yet advanced enough to
compensate for this demographic decline by filling menial jobs with androids,
although some progress has been made in the area of teaching. So we may have to
resort to immigration.
Yoshida: But.....Japanese culture!?
Ogawa: I know, I know, it worries me too.
But, as I told you, their (the foreigner's) bodies are similar to ours – they
can do the same physical work! It's a simple matter for a company to keep its
foreigners contained, and that is all that is required to prevent the seeds of
disorder from being sown. It's just the same as keeping the infectious sick in
quarantine, or keeping nuclear matter safely locked up within a well maintained
reactor. This paradigm has existed in Japan before – remember the Treaty Port
system? You think it can't be done today?
Look at my company, Ogawa Fruits Taste. Everyone
knows Japanese people are short, and now that more and more of them are old
too, they make pretty lousy fruit pickers. That's where foreigners come in. At
Ogawa Fruits Taste, we use the finest Nubians and Swedes to pluck the upper
most fruits, a range of shorter peoples for the middle branches, and pygmies
and young children for fallen fruits. Stretching and stooping time is reduced,
leading to higher productivity, not to mention the savings made on wages!
During sleeping hours, that is from one a.m to half past four a.m, we keep all
workers in a secure and comfortable capsule-barracks, recently converted from a
chicken battery. The capsules are auto-locking, to guard not just against
rampages, but also unauthorised menstruation, micturation, defecation and
fornication during sleeping hours (permits are required for these activities,
the fornication permit in particular requiring the passing of a preliminary
physical trial with our qualified Japanese overseers, while excretions must be
gathered for processing as fertiliser). When the workers have completed their
contracts, we simply remove the capsules and stack them in the holds of a
privately owned cargo ship, which takes them to Brazil, from where the
survivors are released to find their own way home, wherever that might be.
Yoshida: But, foreign workers....don't
they eat the fruit?
Ogawa: You'd be surprised how easy it is
to modify a canine muzzle to fit a human face. Those intended for bulldogs or
mastiffs are particularly suitable.
Yoshida: But how do you find these people?
Ogawa: Well, the Third-Worlders will come
as Third-Worlders do, and you wouldn't believe the number of manga fans who are
drawn from more prosperous nations, willing to do anything at any price as long
as it is in Japan, which they rightly recognise as, how would they put it, the
promised land. Manga...it's the ultimate propaganda! You'd almost think these
fools expected to find women with eyes the size of saucers and tits like melons
fawning on them the instant they alighted at Narita!
Yoshida: That really is remarkable! It's
great to know that foreigners have realised the rewards of a little sacrifice
at last! And that leads me on to my next question. It has been rumoured that
your daughter and one of your Nubian workers have been seen together..
Ogawa: Ha, ha, ha, well my daughter is
very fond of this “Hip Hop” music that all the young people listen to these
days, he must be instructing her in these black dances, now if I could just say
a word about..
Yoshida: And is it true that she is
incubating her own little Obama?
Ogawa: Now really, that's a bit...if she
is pregnant, no doubt the child is her uncle's, they are very close.
Yoshida: But your daughter herself says..
Ogawa (After a series of constipated
sputters, shouts): You never! Never! Never!
Mr. Ogawa's face trembles, suspended
somewhere between rage, shame and half a dozen other emotions. His eyes stare
into mine and I am aware that I have stepped over a line, that if I push him
any more, he will be forced to take his own life. As if following the command
of some noble race-memory, his hand moves to the side of his belt where, in
ages past, his katana would have hung. But this is the ignoble twenty-first
century – all he finds is a belt-loop, in which his thumb becomes ensnared,
adding to his humiliation. I am almost heartbroken by this display of fine
Japanese spirit, so at odds with modernity, something I had feared extinct in
this age of spiritual desolation. On the verge of tears, I fall to the foot of
Mr. Ogawa's chair, and burying my face in the carpet, proceed to let loose a
torrent of incoherent apologies at the top of my voice, even offering to take
my own life. He gets up from his seat. “That won't be necessary,” he says. It
is a gesture of utter contempt, contempt well deserved. On my knees, tears
streaming down my cheeks, I watch this fine man depart through the swing doors.
All the staff of the hotel are looking at me, shaking their heads. How can I go
on living now?
*****
Not till I'm finished.
Not till I'm done. No.
“I'm here, what is it?
Oh Janey Mack. Janey Mack.”
“Tom, get it out of
his hand will you, he's in some sort of frenzy.”
“I'm trying Mary he
has a vice like grip on it.”
“Prize his fingers
open.”
“It's only shameful!”
“No, no I'm not finished.
It's only natural.”
“Writing my eye. Now
will you stop this codology and drop the pen and do something useful with
yourself!”