The White Peril 白禍

Happy birthday to Atsushi. (I won't specify which particular milestone it is.) We're no longer partners, but he's a true gentleman and has remained a friend and a real rock in time of need. I'm sorry I'm not there for the celebration, but his love of sweets is well known among our friends, so I'm assuming he's happily chomping his way out from under a pile of cake as we speak.

Everyone keeps asking whether the culture shock has set in. The question is delivered with a gleam in the eye and an eagerness in the tone that I can't quite pin down; I hope my friends aren't running about thinking, Won't it be fun when Sean encounters some sassy-rude salesperson and just totally cracks? I make a practice of not cracking, thank you very much. And the adjustments I've had to make so far have mostly been pleasant ones.

I do somewhat miss the Japanese cleanliness fetish. Back offices and kitchens and hospital rooms may be as grimy as they are anywhere else, but rare is the office or shop in Japan that doesn't work overtime to ensure that no customer has to deal with so much as a dust mote. Grittiness on the street in New York is welcome and invigorating; grittiness in the produce section is less so. I also got my hair cut in New York for the first time in a decade today. It wasn't a particularly exclusive place, but it wasn't a dump, either. And yet, there was stray hair everywhere (including stuck inside the lid of the jar from which my cutter guy retrieved a good six cc's of hair goop and plunked it on my crown before I had the chance to protest. New York moves quickly).

On the other hand, the City, with its old brick buildings and stone and concrete detailing, has a much more earthy built environment. It feels like a place built by people for people. Tokyo's steel-and-glass, its tiles, its molded HDP, give it a moon-colony quality that can be a lot of fun; but it can also be draining to navigate through, especially in the rain or snow.

And of course, New York is noisy. We're Americans, and we're boisterous. I grooved to Tokyo's brittle, reined-in, well-behaved hum, but of course the flip side is that people need to explode, forcefully, when they're off the chain. You get used to being surrounded by people so drunk as to be near alcohol poisoning: hanging from straps on the train, roly-poly-ing down the sidewalk, tenderly placed face-down over storm grates by friends (who perch jauntily on a nearby curb and chat) so they don't drown in their own vomit. No one will ever accuse New York of not drinking, but after-work life doesn't feel like a 180-degree change from the business day.

People do start drinking here earlier, though. In Tokyo, it's still kind of a sign that you're not important if you actually get out of the office at 5:00 or not much after. I'm not going to an office at the moment, of course, but everyone I know is, and I don't think I've gone to an after-work gathering that started after 6:00 in the two weeks I've been back.

Speaking of things that go down the hatch: there's no point in my repeating in its entirety my rant about American food portions, but sheesh! You know things are cockeyed when even your flippin' arugula salad is too big to finish. Arugula salad! Who gorges on that?

Last night a friend asked me to go to the symphony at Carnegie Hall, and it turned out to be a charming confluence of things Philadelphia, Tokyo, and New York. It was the Philadelphia Orchestra doing its annual series, and last night's piece was Mahler's Eighth. (The Tokyo tie-in is that the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra is known for its Mahler performances.) Much classical music in Asia is very good, but there's something nice about sitting in a Western audience, which shouts cheers and goes a bit over the edge when genuinely moved by a performance. The Philadelphia Sound had been put to good use.

Earthquakes centered in Tochigi Prefecture a few hours ago: estimated 6.7 M on the modified Richter scale, and a weak 5 on the JMA scale (which measures surface vibrations) in parts of Tochigi and Ibaraki. According to my buddy, they were perceptible in Tokyo. I haven't seen any reports of damage, but a weak 5, while not as bad as things could be, can cause real problems in craggy, cliffy rural areas with a lot of elderly people. There's an English translation of the JMA scale here. A weak 5 isn't strong enough to knock down buildings that are up to code in areas that are prepared for earthquakes, but it's strong enough to be scary and make it difficult to move.

There's a favorite story on my mother's side of the family: My great-grandmother's sister came from Poland for a visit in the 1950s, and seeing the variety of goods in a typical neighborhood grocery store, she burst into tears.

Japan is a first-world country, so it's certainly not the case that I've become unused to variety. But of course, the brands are different, the diet is different, what appeals to people is different, the cumulative effect of surveying the aisles is different. Coming back to New York means readjusting my eye and palate to New York food sources. We were going to order from Fresh Direct, but last night we passed D'Ag's on the way home, so we stopped in. I'm afraid I kind of embarrassed my friend by giggling at everything, but I couldn't help myself.

It wasn't the type and distribution of products. Even from only coming home twice a year for the last decade, I'm still used to that. It also wasn't that anything and everything comes in 50-gallon-drum size, which wouldn't fit through the door of most Tokyo houses. I'm used to that, too. What got me was the evolution in some specific familiar stuff. The most improbable brands have gone upscale.

Cheer's curvy new bottles look as if they were inspired by ewers from Pottery Barn; I half expected each one to come with a little basin in matching plastic. For detergent containers, they looked invitingly touchable, almost ergonomic. (And, unsurprisingly, they're clearly aimed at the lady of the house, with filigree patterns in the background on each label.)



There are formulations for the stuff inside that I hadn't seen before, too. One is supposedly targeted at dark colors. (The brand concept was developed by "strategy and design teams fully immersed in darkness." Is that the most fabulous thing ever, or what? And I like the way "Cheer Dark" sounds like Near Dark, the Kathryn Bigelow vampire movie that reunited many of the most memorable cast members from Aliens.)

I was utterly bewildered by a product called True Fit:

Nothing can ruin laundry day like finding a favorite shirt has stretched to the point of no return. Help clothes keep their shape with Cheer® 2X Compacted True Fit™.

Love your clothes. Treat them right.

Personally, my solution to clothes that could get stretched out of shape is either to take them to a proper cleaner's or to use a mesh bag in the washing machine, but I love the idea that there's a detergent out there that's specifically formulated for them.

Also, Dietz & Watson? I grew up not far from Philadelphia, and to me, Dietz & Watson means hot dogs and kielbasa. But not anymore. The company introduces itself on its website with this VERY WRONG sentence:

Welcome to Dietz & Watson, home to the World's Best Meat Delicacies and Artisan Cheeses.

Or maybe it's not so wrong. Dietz & Watson was always a local, family-owned company that emphasized homely production values. It's just that it used to be assumed that those values appealed to local just-folks types; now, rebranded as "artisanal," they've moved up in the world.

I love the disdain that drips from every phrase on this page about condiments:

The World's Best Meat Delicacies and Artisan Cheese deserve better than that "same old yellow or spicy mustard, horseradish without a kick or sour pickles without a snap". So we created our Deli Complements™ with just that intention, to complement our meats and cheeses with enhanced flavor profiles to satisfy today's adult taste expectations.

Enhanced flavor profiles! For a range that includes something called "Sandwich Spread." I love it! What next--small-batch Cheez Whiz in earthenware jugs stopped with natural corks? (And psssst! Kudos to your marketing people for choosing the right spelling of complements for this context. Now they just need to tell your webmaster to fix the filename for the image. And guys, this is America: the period goes inside the quotation marks.)



Also, check out the gigantic sandwiches featured on the "Healthier Lifestyle" page.

Sorry. The Dietz & Watson thing really amused me.

*******

It's been rainy for the last few days, and one of the things I always notice about being back from Tokyo is how much better New York looks in the rain. The grey weather can still be depressing, but there's something about the presence of organic-feeling brick surfaces sprinkled through the built environment that makes it feel less off-putting. The relentless onslaught of steel/glass/concrete/tile in Tokyo can really drag you down. And sidewalks in the City are so wide that you can actually navigate down them with an open umbrella without maiming anyone.

Thanks to everyone who wished me a good trip. The flight was uneventful, and here I am in New York.

Jet lag. Luckily for me, Atsushi's going-away present was two sets of DVDs--the first and last series of「古畑任三郎」, the Japanese detective show modeled on Columbo that we used to watch together. I'm through six episodes already!

[Added on 29 April: Since I was talking about product design in the next post, I might mention that 「古畑任三郎」has some of the coolest titles I've ever seen. The Japanese are known for their sleek design, but to a degree that's because what we see in the West is selected by other Western visitors, who bring back the most striking artifacts. Lots of graphic and industrial design in Japan is as clunky and unprepossessing as it is anywhere else. That's especially true where words are concerned. Print media, web pages, and movie credits often have cutesy visual themes and are crammed with text. For a culture so renowned for maximizing the impact of spare design, Japan goes in for the clutter an awful lot.

Fuji TV doesn't seem to have streaming video of the opening credit sequence up on its page, which is a shame because the music is pretty cool, too. You can still can get a sense of the way it flows by clicking on some of the links:



If you click around on the site, actually, you may see what I mean by clutter. Even if you can read the Japanese, the page is hard to navigate.]

Speaking of jet lag, a word to American Airlines: When your flight is landing at JFK at 6 p.m., it's flat-out cruel to keep the cabin lights off and serve breakfast an hour before beginning descent. I mean, seriously? As if my sense of time weren't already screwed up enough.

Eric doesn't like being labeled, and not for the usual tiresome I'm-too-free-spirited-to-be-defined reasons:

While I can say what I think about most things, experience shows that adopting any label invites conformity to it. (Especially criticism from those who claim it.)

Once you say what you are, some a**hole will come along and say that you're not, because he is.

Similarly, once you say what you aren't, some a**hole will come along and say that you are, because he isn't.

It's convenient that (small-l) "libertarian" suits me fine, because it tends not to set people off. I like "classical liberal," but (today's left) liberals often seem to think you're trying to dress up as one of them while being a closet fascist. ("Yeah, you're a liberal in the sense that, like, Mill would have meant it," someone sneered at me once.) And while my positions on many issues align with what we now consider "conservatism," I'm not fundamentally a conservative. (Well, I am when some gross guy is hitting on me. Then I identify myself as a "conservative" in a clear, forceful tone and mention that I'm a registered Republican. You movement conservatives don't mind the fib, do you? It's to the end of preventing casual homosexual intercourse, after all. And I really am a registered Republican.)

The only problem with calling yourself a libertarian--besides, as Eric alludes to, being invited by supposed fellow travelers to engage in poker-faced debates over the most inane hypothetical situations imaginable--is that a lot of people don't understand that it doesn't mean "libertine" or "anarchist." I can't count the number of times I've had to explain that no, I don't think all governing bodies should be dissolved so we can frolic naked in meadows all day and subsist on game and wild berries. In general, though, even those who conclude I'm just a closet right-winger seem to give me a fair hearing without rancor.

*******

My buddy grabbed my arm the other night and asked whether I'd seen Julie Burchill's inevitable column about the new Madonna album yet. He summarized it as "If I spent four hours a day at the gym, I'd look better than that bitch!" Not too far wide of the mark:

Madonna is everywhere, reigning over the just and the unjust, friend and foe alike; loving her or hating her is as futile as loving or hating the rain, wind or snow - it'll happen anyway.

...

If Madonna didn't devote her life to harassing us, what would she do with herself all day? Remember, this is a woman with so much time on her hands that she can spend four hours a day working out. I know I'm fat, but I have to say that if I spent four hours a day working out, I'd want to look a damn sight hotter than Madonna does; those vile veiny hands, that sad stringy neck - yuck!

Madonna has the sort of body that tends toward the plump/luscious side; you can see it in her early videos. Endomorphs like that who diet and exercise themselves into having no body fat often end up with skin that has a weird stretched look.

The rest of the column is the exact same thing Burchill writes whenever a Madonna record comes out, and it's as funny (and bawdy) as usual.

*******

Surprise! Hillary Clinton once said something nasty behind closed doors about white, working-class Southerners (via Ann Althouse):

In January 1995, as the Clintons were licking their wounds from the 1994 congressional elections, a debate emerged at a retreat at Camp David. Should the administration make overtures to working class white southerners who had all but forsaken the Democratic Party? The then-first lady took a less than inclusive approach.

"Screw 'em," she told her husband. "You don't owe them a thing, Bill. They're doing nothing for you; you don't have to do anything for them."

And since some things never change, Clinton's spokesman responds with contempt when asked about the authenticity of the quotation:

A spokesperson for Clinton said the quote was taken out of context and did not reflect her true political philosophy. "This quote differs from the recollection of others who were in the room at the time this comment was allegedly made," said Jay Carson. "To be clear, that's not how she felt then and it's not how she feels now, and the proof is in how she has lived her life, the work she has done and the policies she has pushed and pursued over the last 35 years."

Asked to produce a witness who would say that Clinton had been misquoted, Carson wrote: "So, you've got two guys we've barely heard of remembering a verbatim quote from 13 years ago?... Sounds totally and completely reliable."

Remember the Clinton administration, when we were subjected to that kind of smear-and-spin routine almost daily when something or other threatened to blow up in the happy couple's faces? We could be mere months from going back to it!

Eric also noticed this story. (He didn't say much about it, but, then, he had to go to New Jersey, so he had plenty of pain to contend with already.)

*******

I don't think this post has enough parentheses.

Does anyone out there know where my evening shirt is?

Well, what good are you?

I thought I always kept it inside the dinner jacket on the same hanger, but unless it's invisible, it's not there. I hope I didn't leave it in Atsushi's closet when I moved out.

*******

How is it possible for one man to have so many vases? If there were ever any doubt that I'm gay, it's been dispelled by the four boxes of decorative housewares I've just packed. Mind you, they don't include anything you could eat off or store something in.

*******

It's time for me to break a pair of sunglasses. Or maybe lose them. I can feel it. The weather keeps going from sunny to cloudy, so you need them sometimes and then not others. They end up in a pocket or dangling by one slender arm from my bag. I seem to have a thing for dropping them in cabs or putting them down on tables and putting something heavy on them. I school myself resolutely to keep them in their little crush-proof cases, but it never works.

*******

I'm not entirely sure why, but I have The Descent in the DVD player, and I'm finding it oddly comforting to have it playing while I'm packing. Given the increasing claustrophic-cave-like-ness of my apartment, you'd think it would make me afraid of confronting a throat-biting humanoid in the bathroom or something, but I actually find it rather cozy. And I used to be of those people who were completely unable to handle horror movies. (When I was growing up, all the talk of demons waiting to getcha we got in church affected my over-active imagination a good deal.)

BTW, if you like suspense and have a strong stomach, The Descent is a great little movie. It's bloody and seriously scary at times, but you don't leave it feeling cynically worked over. It's thoughtful and raises interesting questions without being pretentious, and the cave scenes are very persuasive even though they were all shot on a soundstage. I love hypertrophied old Hollywood glamour-orgy productions as much as the next gay man, but there's a lot to be said for a movie made by people who relied on ingenuity, skill, and conviction rather than piles of money.

[Added later: Or maybe I should have gone with "Your Imagination" as a title. "Love, Need, and Want You"? Maybe "When Will I See You Again"? "If You Don't Know Me by Now"? "Hate on Me"?]

I have a lot of affection for my home state of Pennsylvania. I grew up outside Allentown; my parents had the same house from the time they got married until I'd finished college. Then they moved four miles down the road, where they still are. My father was a plant worker for Bethlehem Steel while I was growing up, so there were a fair share of layoffs and lean years during the '80s.

Even though Barack Obama has been trounced already for his remarks about Pennsylvania, let me just add a bit. (Note to Tom Maguire about that headline, though: John Mellencamp is from Indiana. Keep your troglodyte-populated states straight! Then, too, I should be grateful he didn't quote "Allentown" by Illybay Oeljay, which I have something of a hangup about.) This is where the audio is, apparently, and the key paragraphs are these:

You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them. And they fell through the Clinton administration, and the Bush administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not.

And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy toward people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.

I'm not sure it's possible to do justice to how retarded that is--and I say that as an overeducated, corporate, atheist, homosexual urbanite who's spent the last dozen years in Tokyo and is now happily returning to New York.

The anti-trade part I do agree with. I've had (mild) arguments with my father over protectionism for the steel industry, which simply gives the shaft to American workers and their families further down the supply chain.

The rest is ridiculous.

As far as guns go, my father wasn't big on hunting, but my uncles and cousins went regularly, and I don't think they were taking out their job-related frustrations on the deer. Sport hunting is just one of those practices that the working class has in common with the aristocracy, and there are plenty of counties in the northern part of PA that are ideal for it.

Furthermore, most rural areas are by definition somewhat less densely populated than Hyde Park, Chicago. My mother has two handguns and takes shooting lessons because my father works nights quite a bit. If someone broke into the house, she'd have to fend for herself until the township police arrived. That's been a fact of life since long before manufacturing jobs started leaving.

I also think it highly likely that commonwealth history has something to do with attitudes toward guns. In Pennsylvania, at least in eastern Pennsylvania, you spend your childhood taking field trips to Valley Forge and Gettysburg. In the borough where I grew up, there's a preserved cabin, now nearly three hundred years old, called the Shelter House, where visiting schoolkids are lectured by their elders about the fragile existence of the first settlers as they carved out new lives in unknown territory. The idea that life can be harsh and that you may have to defend yourself violently is not alien to anyone who stays awake through state history classes.

By the way, you noticed that my hometown is called Emmaus, right? My parents now live in Old Zionsville. The second-largest city in the Lehigh Valley is Bethlehem. There's a Bethel in Berks County. Down toward Lancaster there's a town called Smyrna. There's also this little hamlet in Pennsylvania called Philadelphia--have you heard of it?--the name of which is Greek for "city of brotherly love" and is a place mentioned in the Book of Revelation.

That's, you know, in the Bible. Seekers of religious freedom were numerous among Pennsylvania settlers. William Penn was a Quaker whose beliefs had riled his father and the king. In Pennsylvania Dutch country, we're famous for having Amish communities. Lots of old Moravian and Lutheran churches, too. A combination of religious fervor and tolerance is movingly woven into Pennsylvania history from day one, and people in small towns have been going to church regularly since long before the decline of the rust belt economy. The insinuation that people just kind of started turning to religion to give them a sense of shallow comfort when the layoffs started is deeply offensive. I rejected the theology I'd been brought up with years ago as an accurate explanation for the origins of the universe, but it's just plain low to take cheap shots against the faithful.

Things like "antipathy toward people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment" are so vague it's hard to know what to make of them, but I will say that people tend to associate with those who are like them in New York and San Fracisco as much as they do in Reading. And the small towns have been diversifying, slowly but surely. It takes time for people to get used to one another, and everyone has prejudices that have to be discarded in the face of experience. That's hardly some sort of distinguishing characteristic of Pennsylvania.

Eric doesn't have anything up about this yet, but when he does, it's sure to be fabulous. In the interim, on a related topic, he's posted about Mayor Michael Nutter in Philadelphia, who's had the effrontery to compare himself to the Founding Fathers in signing gun control laws:

"Almost 232 years ago, a group of concerned Americans took matters in their own hands and did what they needed to do by declaring that the time had come for a change," Nutter said as he signed the bills in front of a table of confiscated weapons outside the police evidence room in City Hall.

Jeff at Alphecca has also posted.


Added on 19 April: Eric has posted.

I would have bought the lime green, Janis, for the wood sprite effect when out gardening. Then, too, if you garden in earnest (and why would you not?), the mud and earth are likely to dull the color in short order.

I wore a lime-green T-shirt to lunch with Atsushi yesterday. We went to a putatively Moroccan restaurant, which turned out to be a French bistro-ish place (including the ham that came with the asparagus salad) in just about every respect except the figurines of camels and the baskets everywhere. Anyway, the color comes into the story because we both got pea soup--chilled fresh pea soup that looked like bright-green vichyssoise. When it arrived, Atsushi looked from my plate to my shirt to the (green) cushions and said, "You've certainly dressed for the place." Then the waitress came to do something with the cutlery and started giggling. "Same color," she said in English, looking at my place setting and me.

Unlike Janis, I can't wear most V-necks. I'm not worried about bra straps, obviously; it's just that when you have as much chest hair as I do, a deep V looks sleazy (in gay terms) or just plain wrong.

James Kirchik is hardly a lockstep liberal, but in this post, I think he does actually make a typical liberal mistake in typical liberal fashion. His conclusion is this:

A top concern for voters in November will be a candidate's ability to raise American prestige. Rest assured that McCain will do just that.

Given its origins, the word prestige sounds like a perfect fit for McCain to me. That aside, I think Kirchik is wrong about most voters. Most Americans don't care what people think in New York and San Francisco, for Pete's sake, let alone in Paris and Berlin.

Or that's not entirely true. As one commenter puts it (nonmilagno posting Apr 2, 2008 - 4:30 pm), "It's not necessary that Europeans like us. However, it is important that they realise we have common interests." What worries Americans is not our lack of "prestige" but that we can't always rely on other Western countries to go to the mat for Western values. I think that if a presidential candidate convincingly demonstrated that he or she could get governments of other democracies to see why the WOT affects them, too, voters would care. But proportion of American voters who are hoping they'll be able to hold their heads higher among their European and Latin American friends at brunch on Sundays is small and very geographically restricted.

Kirchik's argument about whether people care about rebuilding our reputation abroad is wrong on its own terms, but so is his assessment of how our reputation got where it is:

The truth is that much of contemporary anti-Americanism is a manifestation of disgust with George W. Bush as an individual and will immediately dissipate as soon as a new president — Democrat or Republican — enters the Oval Office in 2009. Yet also keep in mind that a similar degree of anti-American sentiment is inherent and may take a generation to disappear. Yet also keep in mind that a similar degree of anti-American sentiment is inherent and may take a generation to disappear. French anti-Americanism, for instance, springs from economic inferiority and a lost empire, was flaunted as far back as 50 years ago when Charles de Gaulle was president and George W. Bush was but a little boy. Much of South America's anti-Americanism stems from 19th century American imperialism, something that no American president will be able to change.

What the next president can do to reverse the popularity deficit is distinguish himself from the current administration's most unpopular policies. On this score, McCain already has much to his credit. He has long stood out for his proactive stance on global warming, his opposition to coercive interrogation practices of terrorism suspects, and his support for closing the prison on Guantanamo Bay, all things which anger people and governments overseas.

Given the hedging in that first paragraph, it's hard to pin down how much anti-Americanism Kirchik expects to disappear magically on Inauguration Day. What proportion is attributable to anti-Bush sentiment? I'd say less than he thinks. Europeans and Asians loved the Clintons--they were lawyers with prestigious educations who talked a lot of big-government theory, which made them easy to identify with for a lot of elites there. And yet there was still plenty of bitching about America. Too prosperous, too confident militarily, too confident culturally, too friendly with Israel. They might like to see us hobble our economy with some drastic policies to combat global warming and stuff, but I don't think the basic attitude is likely to change soon, no matter who's president.

So I don't think Kirchik's argument in favor of McCain washes. Virginia Postrel has an intriguing and more convincing analysis of Barack Obama's glamour in The Atlantic:

Obama's glamour gives him a powerful political advantage. But it also poses special problems for the candidate and, if he succeeds, for the country.

...

To rely on illusions is to risk disillusionment. If Obama the dream candidate becomes Obama the real president, he'll be forced to pick sides, make compromises, and turn "hope" and "change" into policies some people like and some people don't. Or, like the movie star governor of California, he might choose instead to preserve his glamour by letting others set the agenda. Either way, his face won't make America's worries disappear, and his cool, polite manner won't eliminate political disagreements. Some of his supporters will feel disappointed, even betrayed. The result could be a backlash, heightened partisan conflict, and a failed presidency. George W. Bush ran as a uniter, and Jimmy Carter promised national renewal.

Anne Applebaum wrote a column on a somewhat related issue last year. The headline was "What Presidents Don't Know," and her point was that some learning on the job is inevitable. Wonkish expertise and a ten-point plan for everything are less important than a realistic sense of what the candidate is getting into:

In fact, there may be some sorts of experience that are actually detrimental to a potential president. I worry, for example, about Hillary Clinton's much-vaunted travels as first lady: She came, she made carefully prepared speeches, she received polite applause. It won't be like that if she's president, and I hope she doesn't think it will be.

...

Other kinds of foreign connections could prove useful. Even aside from his specific beliefs, John McCain happens to be particularly good at speaking to (and arguing with) foreign audiences: The director of a German foundation recently complained to me that the U.S. presidential campaign was spoiling his transatlantic conferences because it meant McCain couldn't attend anymore. Meanwhile, Obama, with his African relatives and Indonesian childhood, would start his presidency riding an enormous wave of international goodwill. His differences from our current president -- he's young, black, with a more complicated background -- would win him a lot of points in a lot of places, whether or not he knows the name of the Pakistani president (and whether or not he would bomb that country, as he recently seemed to imply he would).

I remember vividly when Ann Althouse linked Applebaum's column. A lot of her commenters seemed to take the above passage as an out-and-out endorsement of Obama--which gave me pause, because I hadn't. Applebaum seemed to me to be observing two things: that any new president will have expectations and a default way of reacting to new information, and that how other world leaders respond will be an important part of that new information. She appeared to be suggesting that Obama might be able to leverage his initial warm reception; Virginia says that his glamour won't be enough to save him if he gets into trouble but that he may have a realistic sense of its limits.

That one was probably bigger somewhere, but it was big enough here. We should know in a few minutes.

On Saturday, I flew into Tokyo as a resident of Japan for the last time. Sometime in the next few weeks, I'll step out onto my balcony and see this view once more, wish Roppongi Hills and Tokyo Midtown their best, and leave the apartment to the cleaners. Then I'm moving back to New York.



If you're a Westerner living in Asia, you have, at any time, at least a half-dozen friends who are trying to decide whether they want to leave or stay. It's just a topic that comes up a lot. Therefore, I was able to draw on a lot of advice, not all of it solicited. Most of the people whose opinions I valued echoed my Belgian architect friend (whose advice I did solicit, since he has a lot more experience with these things than I have): If you have experience working in Asia, you can always find a way to come back; but the longer you're away from home, the harder it is to find a way to return.

So I'm moving back. Taking a bit of a rest, staying with my old roommate in Murray Hill for a while, then getting a new job.

"Aren't you afraid it'll be hard to adjust?" I've been asked (and asked and asked). Yeah, sure. I've been in Japan my whole adult life. (I don't consider college and grad school adulthood--not when you're being funded by Mom and Dad or the Japan Foundation.) But people move to new places all the time. And New York is somewhere I've lived before anyway.

And yet...it's been a long time since I've lived in the States. When I last lived in America, Buffy the Vampire Slayer was still nothing more than a rather bad movie with Kristy Swanson. When the television show debuted and friends started raving about it, we saw it in Japan the way you saw American shows back then: friends sent videotapes.

I bought a few new CDs on their day of release a week or two after arriving in Japan: Bilingual by the Pet Shop Boys and Nine Objects of Desire by Suzanne Vega.

I don't remember which movies I first saw in the theater after coming to Tokyo. I do remember watching Alien Resurrection here when it was released. Japanese audiences are very quiet, so when the Winona Ryder character reappeared after being shot, my spontaneous cry of, "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD AND OUT OF THE PICTURE, YOU ANNOYING B..." could be heard echoing through the theater until my then-boyfriend clapped a hand over my mouth.

That's how long I've been away. Yes, I see my friends back home at least once a year, and I'm in constant e-mail contact. And there are loads of things that make keeping in touch easier. Everyone has e-mail. (That wasn't true even in 1996.) You can download just about anything. (When was the last time I had to leave the house without 6000 songs stored on a device the size of a deck of cards? I don't even remember.) You can torture people with your vacation photos without even having them printed; just create and online album and e-mail the URL to friend and foe alike. But it isn't the same as being there.

I'm not focusing on changes in pop culture stuff because I'm unaware that there are more important things in life. It just, when you live far from home and contact friends to find out what's going on there, they assume you're watching the news. If someone brings up what Obama just said at a rally the other night, it's because they want to discuss it, not because they think they're informing you about something happening at home that you couldn't have heard about.

It's the new movies and music and restaurants and things they tell you about to help you feel caught up. (Books, too, but despite being someone who reads all the time, I generally have a hard time getting into contemporary fiction, so my friends have learned to stop recommending new novels to me.) Even if you find soap-opera-ish dramas tiresome, knowing that a lot of the people you know are watching Ally McBeal or (now) Grey's Anatomy and gabbing about it at brunch on weekends becomes meaningful. You're not participating in one another's daily lives, but you can at least feel secure in the knowledge that you're not becoming strangers.

So. Three weeks to settle things here. Then however long it takes to get settled back in at home. I'm looking forward to the culture shock in a way. It would be a bummer if America and New York and I weren't different after twelve years. And now that Japan seems to be cool again, maybe I can parlay my experience here into a hip, cosmopolitan demeanor that gets the men flocking to me.

Or maybe I'll just seem out of it.

We'll find out soon enough.

The Yomiuri is trumpeting (Japanese/English) a poll it conducted in cooperation with the BBC, the results of which were as follows:

Japan got the most positive ratings overall along with Germany, while the percentage of respondents giving Japan negative ratings was the second-lowest after Germany (18 percent).

The survey was conducted across 34 countries from October to January, asking opinions about the influence of 13 countries and the European Union in the world in the the areas of politics, economy and security. The Yomiuri Shimbun participated as a local research partner in the survey, commissioned by the BBC.

Fifty-two percent of respondents said the EU has a mostly positive influence, followed by Britain and France, each with 50 percent.

The country with the most negative ratings was Iran at 54 percent, followed by Israel (52 percent) and Pakistan (50 percent).

The BBC site has the results of the poll with bar graphs and--who'd have predicted this?--the headline " World views US 'more positively.'"



On the BBC page, be sure to open the PDF file that gives a breakdown of the results and more information about the survey instrument. I was interested in how the questions were phrased; apparently, people really were just asked, "Please tell me if you think each of the following countries are having a mainly positive or mainly negative influence in the world...." You also get gems such as these:

When asked for their views of their own country's influence in the world, Japanese citizens are the most modest of those polled, with only 36 percent saying Japan is having a mainly positive influence. Americans come next with only 56 percent saying the US is having a positive influence. Conversely, fully 91 percent of Chinese citizens and 78 percent of Russian citizens say their country is having a positive influence.

I'm guessing that stories about poisonous Chinese exports are deemphasized by Xinhua and other Chinese media outlets, so those surveyed who don't go abroad a lot may not be aware of just how colorful China's influence has sometimes been since its economy started booming.

Since I'm American and therefore mindlessly fixated on my own homeland, I also made a beeline for the page about respondents' views of the States. Note the stats for Canada.

Stephen Miller at IGF posts about an Advocate column responding to the murder at school of a cross-dressing fifteen-year-old who lived in a facility for troubled youth.

Of course, it's partially Bush's fault. No, really. Here's part of Neal Broverman's Advocate piece:

"Part of the role of a school is to teach young people how to function in a democracy," says Kevin Jennings, a former teacher and the founder and executive director of the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network, a national organization working to ensure safe schools for LGBT students. "In a democracy we protect the minority from the tyranny of the majority. Where are they going to get that lesson? They've got to learn it in school." [Note unassailable logic of preceding sentences--SRK]

But they don't. At least not in the way they did before the No Child Left Behind Act was enacted by Congress in 2002 at the Bush administration's urging.

"There's been a real retrenchment of antibullying and diversity programs since No Child Left Behind," says Jennings. "What that's done is establish standardized testing as the only measure of good schools. In the late '90s there was a lot of momentum around multiculturalism and diversity. That was really reversed by this imposition of standardized testing. A lot of educators are frustrated because they understand the importance of addressing some of these larger [social] efforts, but when they try to they're told, 'You've just got to get the math scores up.'"

Is standardized testing the only measure of school performance that's currently given weight? I'm no education expert, but my understanding is that schools are still rated according to their safety standards; it's hard to believe that a pattern of violent bullying that goes unpunished wouldn't be factored in there--assuming the reporting administrators are being honest. Keeping schools from finding ways to cook the numbers to make themselves look better has been a major issue since the program was first implemented. Still, that doesn't mean the shift from trying to teach kids huggy multiculturalism to trying to teach them math is in and of itself a bad one.

There was a violence prevention program in place at the school that attempted to teach kids how to manage their emotions and empathize with others. Would a gay-straight alliance or more explicit attention to tolerance of gay kids have helped? Possibly.

Broverman delivers the usual coarse generalities about "violence as a solution to conflict" (bad, very bad), but he raises the common-sense point that maybe King's elders should have taught him a bit more caution when it came to wearing heels and eye makeup and adopting a flippant, teasing persona in a school full of teenagers. Miller reports that a cadre of social welfare busybodies naturally flipped out:

Braverman [sic--his name is Broverman according to the by-line] raised serious issues that are certainly worth discussing. But his piece provoked strong criticism from certain activist quarters, as in this Open Letter to The Advocate from "lawyers, advocates, and child welfare professionals" who declare "hiding fuels hatred" and that "We cannot keep children safe by hiding them. Succumbing to fear creates an environment in which hatred thrives. Invisibility is just another, more insidious, killer." [A dumbfounding thing to say in connection with a child whose flamboyance just got him shot--SRK]

That sounds a awful lot like the kind of sloganeering that is meant to stifle open discussion rather than foster it. Gay adults know that, if they choose, they can walk hand in hand down a street of a non-gay neighborhood--and they know that in a great many neighborhoods they will risk getting beaten (or worse) for it. That's a choice adults can make.

I think Miller shows impressive restraint. What kind of moron do you have to be to go around telling children that they can just go around expressing themselves however they like and expect the world to love them for it? Or even to expect those who do love them for it to be able to bail them out every time they land themselves in trouble? I daresay that most people go through junior high school hiding what they are to some extent; that's how you get along. Teenagers learn through trial and error, as their personalities are gelling, how much they're willing to hold back in order to avoid making waves and how much they're not. This is not just a gay issue.

In a free society, the authorities aren't policing everywhere you go and everything you do. You can go about your business as a law-abiding citizen without being watched all the time, but the trade-off is that you can get yourself into dangerous situations when no one is in a position to help you. It only takes minutes to get beaten up, and less than that to get stabbed or shot. (In this particular case, one of the issues is how McInerney managed to get a gun onto school property undetected; but then, if he was that much bigger and stronger than King, he could probably have broken his neck or banged his head hard enough to kill him without a weapon.) Eliminating the real dangers gays face is not going to be achieved by griping that they shouldn't exist and teaching young people to pretend they don't.

Added on 2 April: I originally characterized the junior high school in the story as being for troubled youth because, for some reason, I read the article that way. Thanks to Joanne Jacobs for pointing out that it appears actually to have been a regular old junior high school with some kind of anger management program. I've excised the two misleading sentences above, and while I hate to be told I've made a stupid mistake, I'm actually kind of glad to learn that particular information about the school. I was originally utterly baffled that counselors would tell a fifteen-year-old that a school for troubled kids was a good place for him to start cross-dressing. I still think they were irresponsible, but I guess I'm a bit less baffled now.

Speaking of fags making civic-minded gestures of dubitable effectiveness, one of the higher-ups in the Stonewall Democrats chapter at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, has decided that the logo for a new burger joint in town is offensive (via Advice Goddess). You've probably narrowed the reason down to just a handful of possibilities. Read the quotation below to see whether you guessed the correct PC transgression!

LSA senior Kolby Roberts, a member of the Stonewall Democrats who has led the effort, said he finds the logo's message inappropriate and offensive.

"I have a problem that you take a women riding a hamburger and you put it next to the word 'quickie,'" he said. "It just seems like it's not putting a good message out there for the objectification of women."

Please. No gay man on Earth is in any position to be complaining about others' sexually objectifying anyone. Sorry. Just, no. You can complain that it's inappropriate in a given context, but that would require more precise thinking. It would also require thinking about manners and the evolution of beneficial social mores and stuff, and you might end up saying something judgmental.

Anyway, the reason this story caught my eye, besides Amy Alkon's funny commentary, was the lameness of the complainers' reasoning:

Roberts said he believed the image was distasteful, regardless of the person.

"Basically, what it has is a provocatively dressed woman straddling a hamburger, and she's very busty and its kind of really horrible," he said.

"Kind of really horrible"? Good thing you're an engineering major, darlin', 'cause you're not doing our famed gay skill at delivering pithy witticisms any justice.

How things have degraded. Back in my college days, when dinosaurs and Massive Attack roamed free, the affronted leaders of feminist and gay student groups would at least have had some pseudo-philosophical hoodoo to make their pique sound deeply meaningful. Where's the mention of the "male gaze"? Where's the invocation of the "hostile intellectual environment"? And it's Michigan--shouldn't we be bringing Catharine MacKinnon into the act? What are they teaching kids these days?

Added on 29 March: Eric is in Ann Arbor at the moment and has checked the place out.

The story's a good week old, but considering what old news it is anyway, I don't feel all that dumb linking to it now. R.E.M. has a new album out soon, and the hype-o-rator has been on full-blast for weeks. Who knows? Maybe it really is the band's best album in over a decade, and old fans should be getting all spazzy with anticipation. (Personally, I dropped away after Automatic for the People, which to me is about as melodious and ear-pleasing as the reaction of a cat when you throw a bucket of ice water over it. I'm clearly in the minority on that one, though.)

Anyway, there's a usual flurry of interviews and photo shoots and magazine covers. GayNews reports that Michael Stipe has finally just cut the crap and identified himself as gay:

This week he told Spin magazine, "I recognize that to have public figures be very open about their sexuality helps some kid somewhere out there."

Although Stipe has never felt the need to discuss his sexuality before, he informed the magazine that he now felt that it was important to be open and honest in order to provide understanding and hope for the younger generation.

"It was super complicated for me in the '80s. I was totally open with the band and my family and my friends and certainly the people I was sleeping with. I thought it was pretty obvious."

Stipe stated that in the past he didn't see that being out could be so important for others. "I didn't always see that. But I see now, of course that's the case, of course that's needed."

Considering how fervently Stipe embraced everything else on the leftist checklist, it's kind of funny that he didn't see coming out of the closet, of all things, as being important. But I see no reason not to take him at his word. He did, after all, make a point of being uncategorizable and enigmatic about his private life--and why not?--and he's been open about being bisexual for years. If he's decided he is, in fact, gay, then sure, no reason he shouldn't be up-front about it with the public if he likes.

I'm not sure the announcement will have the effect of "helping some kid out there," though. Gay kids already know that it's possible to be an open homosexual if, like Stipe, you're constantly going to be pushing what a "transgressive" weirdo you are. Especially if you've also already made a pile and aren't risking much in the way of money and career trajectory. I'm not faulting Stipe for waiting until he was ready to reveal this or that about himself; I'm only saying that it's a bit late to be all public-spirited about it in the way he seems to want to be.

BTW, before anyone tries to call me on it: Yes, the joke of the post title is that "Superman" was neither written by R.E.M. nor sung by Michael Stipe.

Another homicide in Japan by a mentally disturbed person in a high-traffic public place:

Police are questioning an 18-year-old boy over the death of a stranger who was pushed in front of an approaching train at JR Okayama Station late Tuesday night.

...

Kariya, a prefectural government worker from Kurashiki, Okayama Prefecture, fell on the tracks of the Sanyo Line and was hit by a train bound for Fukuyama, Hiroshima Prefecture.

Kariya died about five hours later of shock caused by blood loss.

"I thought that if I killed somebody, I could go to prison. It didn't matter who it was," police quoted the boy as saying. They added that the suspect did not appear to know Kariya.

Police initially arrested the boy on suspicion of attempted murder. They will seek murder charges now that Kariya has died.

Police quoted the boy as saying that he had gone to the station "hoping to stab someone."

Investigators found a kitchen knife with a 12-centimeter blade inside a shoulder bag the boy was carrying.

Not much more in the Japanese reports, such as this one at the Mainichi.

There are also reports that the 24-year-old who stabbed eight people in Ibaraki Prefecture over the weekend had well-known issues with controlling his temper:

Senior investigative officers said they gasped after seeing the word "death" written in red on the wall of his room. The door of the room, which had several fist-sized dents in it, was skewed, the officers said.

An 18-year-old man, who was at a game center near his home, said he had seen Kanagawa play fighting video games several times and that Kanagawa would pound the game machine or kick chairs when he lost or had not done well.

Another man said that since Kanagawa blew up over trivial matters, he was careful when he talked to him.

According to the investigators, when Kanagawa was a high school student, he was said to have often pounded or kicked things when he was under a lot of stress.

Earlier in the month, Kanagawa had e-mailed from his current mobile phone to an old one such messages as "What I do is what counts," "I'm God," and "I want to finish myself," the officers said.

We watched the blow-by-blow election coverage this weekend, but there was very little suspense: the KMT candidate started trouncing the DPP candidate very early, and his lead never let up.

Now he's made his opening diplomatic salvo:

Fresh from victory as Taiwan's new president, Ma Ying-jeou, has posed what may be a dilemma to the United States - by requesting to make a trip to Washington, which may earn the fury of China if allowed.

US President George W. Bush was among the first to congratulate Ma [Ying-jeou], seen as [more of] a moderate on the China question than outgoing, independence-leading president Chen Shui-bian, whose rule roiled ties with both Beijing and Washington.

But allowing the Harvard-educated lawyer Ma to visit Washington could anger Beijing even though he said he planned to come before his May 20 inauguration, said Brad Glosserman of Pacific Forum, a Hawaii-based think tank.

"Slim and none are the chances of that (trip)," Glosserman said. "It's very clearly an attempt by the president-elect of Taiwan to raise his political profile," he said.

The United States, he added, would not risk angering China, especially at a time when Beijing was grappling with a bloody revolt in Tibet.

...

John Tkacik, once the chief of China analysis in the State Department's bureau of intelligence and research, said he felt Ma's trip would not anger China.

"No, I really do not think so," he said.

"I think China is very pleased with the election of Ma and (Vice President-elect) Vincent Siew and as long as they come before the inauguration and they still have colour of 'unofficiality,' then I think China would put up with it," he said.

Ma was the candidate who, of course, advocated more of an open market with the PRC. He won handily, but not a few Taiwanese are worried about what an influx of Chinese labor and outflow of corporate management could mean for Taiwan.

*******

This weekend was Japan's most recent incident with a stabby lunatic: a man in Ibaraki Prefecture knifed eight people before being detained. Luckily, only one was wounded fatally.

The suspect, Masahiro Kanagawa, was already wanted in connection with another fatal stabbing of a stranger. The police were looking for him but failed to intercept him:

Kanagawa was put on a nationwide wanted list Friday after his bicycle was found near Miura's home. Police posted about 170 police officers at train stations on the Joban Line and the Tsukuba Express Line starting from the first train runs of the day Sunday.

But they acknowledged that the patrol at Arakawaoki Station failed to catch Kanagawa before the stabbing spree.

"We regret that (our efforts to prevent the second incident) ended in a result like this," Takashi Ishii, a senior officer of the Ibaraki prefectural police said in a news conference at Tsuchiura Police Station on Sunday. "We did our best by taking such measures as placing police officers at train stations and Net cafes."

Police said the reason they didn't spot the suspect was because their picture of him was two years old and he was wearing a knitted hat and silver-rimmed glasses when he arrived at the station.

"It was an unlucky time for us because there were many passengers getting on and off the trains," the officer said.

This is the sort of case, I think, that highlights the difficulties that the detectives investigating the Lindsay Hawker murder are probably facing. Melting into a crowd on a train platform isn't difficult at all. Neither is disguising yourself sufficiently to go unnoticed by people in shops. Kanagawa claims he had actually intended to target people at his old elementary school, the Asahi article says. That would be chilling enough anywhere, but in Japan it resonates especially because of the 2001 stabbing of two dozen children at an Osaka school.

So I haven't learned much Chinese in Taipei, but I have developed a nice line in learning which sinitic compounds used in Japanese do not carry over into Mandarin. You will doubtless profit from hearing that Chinese and Japanese write "lamb" differently.

I made this important discovery yesterday at the dry-cleaner's. At a birthday party for a friend over the weekend, another friend had (kindly) offered to give me some lamb but (unkindly) cut it so that some of the connective tissue whipsawed. I ended up with a very neat diagonal line of gravy spattered across my shirt. Chuckles all around. A torrent of fervent apologies from my friend--the only way to salvage your friendship with another member of the Family after you've ruined his outfit is to abase yourself big-time.

Luckily, I was wearing a T-shirt underneath, and Taipei's an informal city, so Mr. Button-down was relegated to my bag until the cleaner's could deal with him. Naturally, yet another (sloshed) friend decided to pitch forward (sloshily) and expectorate half his cosmo onto my shoulder a few hours later. (I know I'm something of a wit, but I don't think what I'd just said was that funny.) In case you didn't know, pink liquid shows up rather well on light blue fabric in bar lighting.

*sigh*

Given a choice between going through the rest of the night either (1) looking like a cosmo drinker who was too far gone to aim his glass at his own mouth or (2) barechested, I decided to keep the shirt on and adopt a happy/spacey expression. T-shirts are machine washable, after all, and I'm only in this city for another week.

Later, though, it was time to go to the cleaner's. The receptionists in my office offered to take care of it for me, but since I have a perverse sense of adventure, I went myself. That's how I ended up trying to explain to the woman behind the counter (who spoke a little English and a little Japanese but understood neither "lamb" nor "ko-hitsuji") what the hell was splashed across my shirt front. Luckily, through a combination of 羊 and 汁 and a few other Chinese characters, which I scrawled on an empty receipt as she giggled, I'm pretty sure I got the general idea across. Can't wait to see what my shirt looks like tomorrow!

Good times.

The election here is this tomorrow. Campaigning has to stop by law tonight. Very exciting!

BTW, it's certainly not wrong to translate 国民党 (kuomintang: "Citizens' Party," or what your history books called "the KMT") as "Nationalist Party," but I'm not sure why the NYT does so:

Mainland Chinese officials loathe Taiwan's current president, Chen Shui-bian, and his party, the Democratic Progressive Party, for pursuing greater political separation from the mainland. Beijing has been wary of the party’s candidate, Frank Hsieh, even though Mr. Hsieh has repeatedly voiced much more willingness than Mr. Chen to allow increased Taiwanese investment on the mainland and more cross-strait transportation links.

A victory by Mr. Hsieh could be perceived in Beijing as a high price to have paid for forcefully putting down demonstrations in Tibet.

Mr. Hsieh received an influential endorsement on Thursday. Lee Teng-hui, a former Nationalist president [!] of Taiwan who now favors much greater political independence from the mainland, said that he would vote for Mr. Hsieh.

You wouldn't even know they were talking about the KMT there, would you?

Added on 22 March: So between drinks last night at my friend's birthday party (unconnected to any March babies in my family), I started to wonder how you do translate 国民党. I mean, I always either read about it in Japanese (in which case the characters are used) or hear about it from people connected to Taiwan (who just call it the KMT). Wikipedia says that it can be referred to as the "Chinese Nationalist Party," which makes a lot more sense to me than just plain "Nationalist Party" given its origins.

Happy birthday to my father and my little brother. Yes, both of them. When my parents converted to Sabbatarian Christianity when I was little, they went full-on into Nature: avoiding doctors in favor of anointings from the ministry, growing their own vegetables. My mother baked all our bread until I was in high school. (That's why the reception of Rod Dreher's Crunchy Con thing as if it were NEW! and EXCITING! made me giggle a while back.) And they decided on a home birth for my brother, so my father spent the morning of his own birthday delivering him. Dad tied off the umbilical cord with new white shoelaces. I read him (my brother, not my father) his first story. My mother, I'm assuming, rested. I have this feeling massive doses of painkillers were not part of the natural birthing plan.

Now he (again, my brother, not my father) is thirty. Thirty.

"You're turning thirty! That makes me--"

"Past it."

"Try waiting until the next time I visit home and saying that to my face, buddy."

"Sure. I'm taller than you now."

So happy birthday, guys.

It would also have been my last remaining grandfather's birthday this week.

Three of my grandparents died in their early sixties, in rapid succession, between 1981 and 1984. My father's father was the only one left. He remarried after my grandmother died; his second wife died, too, a decade ago. After that, he lived alone. His hearing was always bad, and he was in his own little world, but he lived in his own house until the end. His woodworking shop was in the basement. (Contemporary safety Nazis would have a coronary if they saw the way we used to play with Dad's and Pop-Pop's tools when we were little.) He used to make furniture for people in need at church--bedsteads and things like that. He was a regular churchgoer and made a Bible stand for the congregation that was much beloved. His income was limited, but he gave to charity regularly. He spoke with benevolence about the new neighbors--noisy, the other old-timers on the block complained, but they were polite and kept their property tidy and didn't cause trouble.

My father's sister checked on him and helped him out every week. My father gretzed that if he kept insisting on doing woodwork, he was going to kill himself with the circular saw at his age one of these days. I visited most times I went home. (No, not every time, to my discredit.) He was kind of abstracted in later years but always happy to hear that I was still enjoying Japan. He wasn't totally out of touch with the talk of the day, either. Once not too long ago, I gave him a bag of rather frou-frou green tea, and he said, "Thanks! Full of antioxidants, they say, huh?"

He wasn't the story-telling type of grandfather. He never talked about his childhood in England, or about being in Europe during the war, or about how Allentown had changed over his lifetime. He'd outlived both his wives and had trouble getting around. When he died in November, I think he was ready. My mother hadn't even had time to get word to me that he'd been taken to the hospital. He would have turned 93 on Tuesday.

It's been a year since Englishwoman Lindsay Hawker was murdered. The chief suspect, who escaped capture when police came knocking at his apartment door to question him, still hasn't been found and brought in for questioning. The BBC's Tokyo correspondent has an online report here.

The practice of showing people photographs of a suspect with possible disguises is not unusual here. But why has he not been apprehended?

"When an offender is determined to run and hide," the detective says. "It's hard to find him. Ichihashi didn't have a phone or a credit card, anything that might make him easier to trace."

...

Lindsay Hawker's family have expressed their frustration at the lack of progress in the police investigation, although they say they have no alternative but to keep faith with the Japanese police.

Her friends too are frustrated.

Recently they gathered on a Sunday to hand out fliers appealing to the Japanese people for any information that might lead to the arrest of Tatsuya Ichihashi.

Paul Dingwell, a fellow teacher who knew Lindsay well, says the fact that this man has been able to disappear reflects badly on the Japanese.

"They should feel some kind of guilt that this has happened in their country, to someone who came here to help," he says.

"If someone is hiding him they are just as guilty as he is, if not more."

I was disturbed last year when Hawker's father called her death some kind of national "shame." At the time, of course, her death was a raw wound for her family and friends. Also, I wondered whether the invocation of "shame" might not be a shrewd way of playing off Japanese psychology to make solving Hawker's murder seem especially urgent.

Be that as it may, statements such as "they should feel some kind of guilt that this has happened in their country" are rather nasty in their implications. Every country has criminals, the U.K. most assuredly not excluded. That part about "came here to help" doesn't sit well, either. It feels condescending, somehow. (Wouldn't the English find it creepy if, say, an Indian surgeon were murdered in London and her relatives complained that her death was unjust because she'd only come to England to help?) Plenty of Westerners come to Japan to teach English mostly out of a desire to have an exciting adventure abroad and sock away some money, and they deserve not to be murdered just as surely as does someone who's motivated by a saintly desire to bring correct English to the Japanese.

And it's hard to believe that Hawker's friend thinks disappearing into the landscape in Japan requires some kind of sinister network of assistance. Light plastic surgery that uses surgical wire to nip in the nose or cheeks or to raise the eyelids is cheap, fast, and popular. It doesn't change bone structure, but it would be very easy to use to avoid recognition. Besides, Japan is a country of 127 million people with huge, anonymous metropolitan areas, isolated mountain hamlets, and a very rapid transportation system. I don't think you'd have to be Jason Bourne to figure out how to hide out. Of course, an accomplice would help, but it wouldn't have to be Japanese society in general--just one easily gulled woman with an apartment and a source of income could do it.

I wouldn't have a difficult time believing that the investigation methodology isn't as advanced as what you'd find in London or Miami, but that's because Japanese police just don't have to deal with cases like this one very often. And even at home, murder investigations frequently drag on for years. It's great that Hawker still has friends who are dedicated to helping to find her killer, but I don't think it follows, in this case, that the police force--let alone "Japan" as a generalized, amorphous entity--isn't doing enough.

While the federal government cannot figure out how to appoint a new Governor General of the Bank of Japan, it's had no trouble filling another important position:

In a bid to help boost Japan's international prestige and disseminate its culture, cartoon character Doraemon was inaugurated Wednesday as the official cultural ambassador for Japanese anime.

Cartoon character Doraemon is a catlike robot from the 22nd century and is considered a Japanese cultural icon.

...

"Please work hard to let people around the world learn more about Japan and encourage people to foster friendships with each other," Komura said.

Doraemon replied by saying: "It's an honor to do such an important job. I'll work as hard as I can."

Perhaps his first assignment will be to go back in time to the day this plan was hatched, draw a cluebar out of his 4th-dimensional pocket, and whack some bureaucrats with it. Hard.

I'm not sure the English Mainichi editorial on the ongoing failure to get a new Governor General of the Bank of Japan approved is the best, but I like the graphic. The Xes need only boxes around them to look like the strikes on Family Feud back in the '70s.

Efforts to fill the Bank of Japan governor's position have gone back to square one, and the post remains vacant. The Bank of Japan stands at the core of Japan's economic management, and its movements are watched closely overseas. Now, it has nobody at the helm. And politicians are to blame for creating such a situation.

The House of Councillors failed to approve the appointment of Koji Tanami, head of the Japan Bank for International Cooperation, following the rejection of earlier nominee, former BOJ Deputy Gov. Toshiro Muto. Both men formerly served as Administrative Vice-Minister of the Finance Ministry.

The government has appointed as deputy governors former BOJ executives Kiyohiko Nishimura and Masaaki Shirakawa, who is also a Kyoto University professor, with the latter to serve as the interim bank chief until a permanent posting is made.

There's a meeting of G7 central bank governors in April. The Mainichi hopes, plaintively, that the BOJ has an actual chief by then.

Cab drivers in Taipei don't like taking you to an intersection. Ask for "Zhongxiao East Road where it crosses Dunhua South Road," and you frequently get a blank look. "Which section?" the driver asks. (As in, "Do you mean the 300 block, or the 400 block, or what?") Once I didn't remember, and since I can write Chinese street names but can't speak Chinese, I drew a little diagram: See? These two streets. They cross here. Take me to the intersection...any old corner will do by this point. I stabbed conclusively with the pen. No reaction. Finally, I remembered I wanted Section 4. Scrawled it down. The driver beamed. Oh, okay. Zhongxiao East Road Section 4. Why didn't you just say so? Well, I gave you the intersecting street. We're not talking about Moebius Avenue and Tesseract Boulevard--they're two major arteries, and they only cross in one place!

Another time I was in a speeding cab with a few guys who do, in fact, speak Chinese. They asked for the intersection of Something and Something. "Which section?" An exchange of looks among the passengers--did anyone remember? "Section 2!" the guy next to me said, in clear confident tones. Then he turned to the rest of us. "It probably isn't Section 2, so when we get there, we'll just ask him to keep going to the next section until we get to the right intersection."

I've lived in Japan for twelve years and am used to being baffled by cultural differences. I have to say, though, I'm stumped by this one. Maybe it's because the cities I'm used to are New York (where the address numbers can't be divined from the street numbers) and Tokyo (where half the streets don't even have names), but most of the cabs I've been in in my lifetime refuse to move for you unless you pinpoint the intersection you're going to. No one has been able to explain to me how Taipei ended up developing the other way, though I can see why passengers would use addresses more often, since the address-numbering system here is very intuitive.

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You can be openly gay and get the benefits (nothing to hide), or you can be closeted and get the benefits (acceptance into the mainstream at all levels). You cannot do both. Those who want to be vociferously gay and simultaneously demand that people accept and adore them for it are insufferable, but it's people with the opposite problem who've been inflicting themselves on me lately, so they're the ones I'm going to grouse about.

You want to get married and have children? Good for you. It's none of my business. Whether you really feel affection for your wife or just want your family elders to get off your case or think you'll look more socially stable when it's promotion time at work, I don't care. However, sweetie, if you're going to sit in a gay bar (run by someone who's not afraid to show his face to the licensers and beer distributors and everyone else as the manager of a known gay bar), drinking whisky (served by guys who are not afraid to work at a known gay bar), talking to me (gay, for those who haven't noticed), then do not expect sympathy when you launch into a monologue about how hard it is to lead a double life, how you hate sneaking around, how you feel lonely all the time, and how you're really scared you'll run into a colleague in the wrong place someday. What exactly is the reaction you're expecting? We all make our trade-offs, and by definition, that means we're not going to get some things we want. News flash: If you hide what you are, you're going to feel like you're hiding all the time. Part of taking grown-up responsibility for your own choices is accepting that and not taking every opportunity to whine about it. Sheesh.