Far too hot, tales of long ago and far away, biopsy #14, perpetual renovation hell, 'Hey Rube...' Vol. 3, and the rise of fascist populism in contemporary Japanese politics.
- Shaun Gleason
- Sep 27
- 33 min read
September 1st
Yet another day at 38C here in Ye Olde Deadbeat City. After two consecutive days at a stark 40C, I guess it's something of an improvement, but after over three months of precious little precipitation, it's starting to get old. With the exception of a few isolated night-time showers, and a couple of days rain in mid August (during the Obon break), it's been consistently bone dry and hotter than hell.
Don't get me wrong...Japanese summers had always been a bit longer and more brutal than those at my point of origin, but after thirty years, I'd gradually resigned myself to a month of extreme heat and humidity from mid July to mid August...and ultimately even found myself sort of enjoying it, as kind of an annual 'rite of passage' type of thing.
The last couple of years have been something different altogether, though. The once ubiquitous post Obon thick and sticky jungle funk has been supplanted by a dry, oppressive fever heat. Global warming altered sea temperatures have effectively pushed the usual seasonal rains and moisture up toward northern Honshu and Hokkaido, where they now wreak havoc on a population unaccustomed to 'rainy season' weather. While they flood, we wither.
Our usual greenery turns brown and crisps. Trees are starting to lose their leaves months earlier than usual. The noisy clamour of cicadas that used to persist until the almost the middle of September is already a week gone. The streets and park are conspicuously quiet between 10 am and 4pm, save for a few cyclists and almost hourly ambulance sirens up and down the main street out on the south side of the danchi. People - particularly the elderly - are dropping dead from heat stroke in record numbers.
This recent change in climate has also given rise to some vicious new insect species taking root in the park across the street. I had to give up on walking or running over there after getting mauled just before Obon. At worst, we counted 32 numb, swollen, stinging welts on my arms and legs. They took almost 10 days to heal up with the aid of a strong prescription steroid ointment. This shit was no joke. They'd go for my fingers, ankles and lower thighs. The first indication would be a sharp, tingling numbness, followed by stinging and intense localized swelling. The actual bite marks wouldn't appear clearly until a day or two after the fact. We tried an over the counter insect repellant, but the parasites in question seemed to like that even more.
Beyond half heartedly prescribing some ointment, neither of my skin cancer doctors were of any help, either. I'd hoped that at least one would be able to tell me what kind of insect had mauled me so badly. Nope. Worse yet, they seemed totally disinterested.
"Hmmm. Insect bites. I'll write you a prescription for a strong topical steroid. Apply it to the affected areas three times a day".
I've been using that park for 12 years...and never experienced anything remotely like this. It's usually great during peak summer, as the abundant trees and foliage provide a thick shady canopy over most of the paved walkways. There were always people there with kids or pets, sitting on the benches eating, reading or pissing around with their handsets.
Not this year. At loss, I though that the park superintendent's office might have some idea what was going on. I can't be the only one getting eaten alive. Mina called to enquire, and they were of absolutely no help.
Due to my ongoing skin cancer situation, I have to be more careful about the amount of time I spend in direct sunlight. The park had always been ideal. Apparently not anymore. Without any indication of what the offending insect actually is, I've taken to completely avoiding the park until fall proper finally starts to set in, toward the middle of October.
September 3rd
On the cusp of fifty nine, and with my lifelong love of summer sadly starting to wane, I've been tempted by an overwhelming sense of hiraeth to cast my nets far astern, and briefly reflect on summers past. That old song by The Kinks comes to mind.
Maybe nostalgic refections of seasons long past in a place sandblasted from existence will fill some kind of gap, and somehow compensate for whatever seasonal pleasure is lacking in the here and now.
There was always a ton of anticipation and build up to summers back in the Vancouver of yore.
First and foremost, there was the two month break from school...and that was always a big deal. No sooner were the old notebooks in the trash bin than there would be just over a month of what we considered 'scorching hot weather' in old time Vancouver, with afternoon high temperatures hitting a sultry 27 or 28C - and maybe even 30 or 31 once or twice, a couple of weeks in. The late July sunsets were a big deal, too. Eating late evening barbeque from cheap, shitty hibachis, swatting at mosquitoes barefoot on ratty folding lawn chairs in the back yard as the stars started appearing at dusk, which is at around 9:30 pm in those parts. We loved that as kids.
Come the second week of August, you could suddenly feel the very edge of a chill starting up in the early evenings, so it would be back inside to watch TV. My grandmother always said that was the first sign that summer was winding down.
By the last week of the month, we'd be back to jeans and light jackets, and getting bummed about going back to school.
The height of summer was always the best; I spent as much time in Kitsilano as I could possibly get away with back then. That's where Gramma held dominion over the old family homestead, and where most of the city's summer stuff used to go on. Kits beach (the 'main drag') was around 25 minutes on foot from the house, so we'd usually head down to the smaller and rockier Trafalgar Beach, which was a 15 minute walk straight down to the foot of MacDonald, on Point Grey Road just before it merged into Cornwall. It was always less of a zoo over there, with tons of logs and a lot of nooks and crannies to hide out in. It wasn't as good for swimming as Jericho, or a few of the beaches heading west toward UBC, but it was quieter, and local. Grandmother had been going down there for years and years. I gather she used to take my Mum as a kid, too. We'd go down there with beers and weed as we got older, and no one ever made a fuss. After Mum died, my sister, Mina and I went down there to spread her ashes.
When we were kids, Mum used to haul us over to the 'new' Kits Pool after school wrapped up for the summer. The old sandy-bottomed enclosed concrete tidal pool dated back to 1931, and would fill with sea water from the Burrard inlet - back when it wasn't such a dangerous fecal stew. I recall there also being an almost identical concrete tidal pool over on the Lumberman's Arch side of Stanley Park, that must have dated back to around the same period. In the late 70's, the old Kit's Pool was largely demolished and made over into a proper, modern outdoor swimming pool, while the old Stanley Park pool was simply filled in and paved over. I you go out to the seawall over there now, I believe you can still see traces of the old concrete pool's outer retaining wall. Same thing at the Kit's Pool site.
I remember going to the early Kit's pool with my Gramma when I was a toddler. The shells and rocks on the pool's sandy bottom were hard to stand on, there was gross seaweed and random garbage, and the water was murky and cold...just like over on Trafalgar Beach. Of course, it was free to use, which was the main attraction for my notoriously thrifty Gramma. She never really did shake The Great Depression experience, cutting corners and penny pinching wherever she could till the end of her days. Lovely memories, nonetheless.
In the 70's and early 80's, Kits Beach 'proper' was the place to be for Sea Festival, the bathtub races, and the International Fireworks Competition. There was also Greek Day at the beginning of July, with all that stuff going on just a five minute walk from the house, over on the busy commercial drag at West Broadway. I remember that being a total nightmare when I worked at the West Broadway McDonald's as a teenager. Back then Kits was home to Vancouver's Greek community. Broadway was peppered with Greek restaurants and tavernas, import shops and billiards halls. One of my first memories as a four year old kid fresh out of Los Angeles was being bullied and tormented by the Greek kids from three doors up the street. They'd come round the side of the house where I would sit on the concrete walkway in the shade between Gramma's and the blind Hodgin's place, tease me, mess with my toys, then run back when I started to cry. I still remember their names. Maria and Gustarch.
That name always stuck with me. I did a search online and the only reference I found referred to it as an Eastern European surname, most likely with Slavic origins...not a given name. Yet, I distinctly remember their fat Greek mother bellowing, "Gustarch!! Maria!!" from their porch a few of doors down.
Good times.
As far as I know, the Kit's Beach Sea Festival thing finally got the kibosh in the late 80's, largely due to the local contingent's propensity for alcohol fueled shenanigans. If memory serves, Greek Day might have been similarly derailed for a time, as well... though according to Google, it's apparently up and running again, and still a big thing during the last week of June.
It's odd. Here in Japan, alcoholic beverages are always readily available everywhere - especially at seasonal festivals and public events, and there are rarely if ever any issues.
Back in 70's and 80's Vancouver, the availability of something as basic as beer at any outdoor venue or public gathering would consistently result in a fair chunk of the attendees ultimately losing their minds, urinating everywhere, brawling and smashing shit up like a mob of marauding Vikings.
I often puzzled over why this always used to happen. I mean, Canadians can 'generally' hold their liquor pretty well.
I guess old Vancouver was kind of like a provincial backwater where hardly anything fun or exciting ever happened. Bored young people would lose their shit at any sign of a party, then just sort of extend it into a free-for-all shit show until the cops showed up and hauled everyone off. This happened all the time - whether it was at something as simple as a local house party, or at a larger, more 'organized' public event. The common factor always seemed to be the presence of alcoholic beverages.
In any case, supposedly 'fun' stuff like Greek Day and Sea Festival gradually started disappearing from local calendars in the mid-late 80's. Vancouver was even widely dubbed 'No Fun City' at the height of the crackdowns. Somehow the International Fireworks Competition managed to keep going, as it was pretty decentralized, and there were no vendors selling booze to the heathens. People would just show up and find their own spots or vantage points along the city's beach sides, and hope the cops didn't start busting people for having beer or weed. The times I went it was a total mob scene, but pretty orderly, overall.
If memory serves, this was the first event I took a 21 year old Mme Lord Vader to, shortly after we became acquainted in early July, 1991. Japanese girls love summer fireworks, so it was a no brainer. Thinking back, I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't be sitting where I am right now had it not been for that fireworks display. Funny how things work out.
As far as mainstream summer fun went, I guess with most of the year being so grey, cold and wet, come June and July, people were just over joyed to see a bit of sunshine, and all the more determined to squeeze that shriveled seasonal teet for all it was worth in the month and a half that the sun was hopefully out.
While my Mum was a total sun worshipper, as a kid I tended to be happier sitting in the shade, or slinking off into the cool basement to read comics, draw or watch old movies on TV. Being a bit shy and un athletic, I wasn't keen on running around with my shirt off. When we were trucked off to the beach or pool and I did strip down, I'd burn. When it was severe, my fair skin would turn lobster red, I'd get a fever and chills and have trouble laying down. Then my skin would start peeling off, and where I was over cooked, it would be bloody and scab up. Then there was the itching. Back in those days, people would just shrug this stuff off. As far as my family were concerned, it was just another indication of how 'unmanly' I was. There was never any idea that maybe I should have been using sunscreen, or perhaps avoiding these situations altogether. Nope. The solution was to get me back out into the sun again right away...to 'toughen me up'.
In my early teen years, I was convinced that I was one of The Beatles, and dressed accordingly - regardless of the season. I had some black, side zipping Spanish heel Beatle-style boots, and a bunch of sixties numbers I cobbled together from thrift shops and the back of my step Dad's closet. I'd do myself up and parade around like the fifth fucking Beatle spring, summer winter and fall. It could get hot as hell in that get-up.
From around 17, I assumed my punk rock era 'Art Wanker' moniker and started dressing accordingly. Leather jacket, skinny black jeans, boots, hair gelled and spiked up...even at the height of summer.
It's embarrassing to look back on.
I don't think I swapped the black jeans, boots and leather for t-shirts and shorts in high summer until around mid-stream art college, when all the B.C super weed we were smoking apparently mellowed me out a bit.
The few times that my estranged father came up from California to visit in the early 80's, he'd be on my case for the duration of his four or five days in town. He seemed to pleasure in endlessly cataloguing my shortcomings. My pale complexion always seemed to get his goat, followed by my lack of interest in 'manly things' like sports, cars, the U.S. Navy and slutty girls, then my shitty taste in clothing, and general lack of ambition. There was more, of course. His list of grievances was endless.
The only thing he thought was good was my shit 3 dollar an hour job at McDonald's.
I remember one time he brought up some god awful bright green Lacosse-style polo shirt that was embroidered with a little Columbia Pictures logo on the upper right chest. I think he got it from oner of his 'buddies', whose father was head of the studio or something, and to his chagrin, I refused to wear it.
At 16, I was in my transitional Bowie obsessive phase. I thought that whole California 'summer casual' fashion scene was unbearable. Preppy guys wearing those hideous moccasin style top-sider deck shoes, khaki chinos, Vuarnet sunglasses and pastel coloured polo shirts with flipped up collars. My father wanted a tanned, outgoing, all-American son, not some pale outsider dressed in 20 year old vintage shit from the thrift store.
The early 80's were awful.
Fast forward 40 years, and I was probably on to something, staying indoors and covering up like I used to. Kids that age don't give a rat's arse what adults say, anyways.
Half a world away, and approaching my senior years, I'm now paying the price for whatever summer 'fun' I was forced to participate in back in my pale, delicate youth.
Just out the gates of 'summer proper' - and less than a week after I'd hit 'publish' on the solstice installment of this very blog - I was back at the local 'biopsy shop', getting sampled yet again. A week later, and there it was - another problematic diagnosis. This time, a solar keratosis, on my upper right arm, just below the shoulder. For those not in the know, a solar (or 'actinic') keratosis is a pre-cancerous lesion, caused by legacy UV exposure. I had a progressed one on my right cheek three years ago that was looking like borderline squamous cell carcinoma (a more concerning diagnosis), and a rather nasty surgery to remove it.
We were referred back to the university hospital, where I'm already a patient.
The new skin oncologist reviewed my sample, and said that as it was presently in a fairly shallow area, she'd recommend that I hold off on surgery for now, and try this toxic skin cream treatment. I've had some experience using the cream on a group of faint patches around my nose after my initial facial surgery three years ago. Apparently it has a 50/50 success rate.
Fingers crossed.
As with my previous go round, it's pretty likely that the doctor will go ahead and prescribe a second round to increase my chances of achieving a positive result. Mina says that we're usually limited to two courses...though we were prescribed three for my nose by one of the previous specialists.
I guess it will be up to the current doctor - though my hopes of getting a third round aren't particularly high. She's quite young, and wound up pretty tight. One of these rigid, rule obsessed types that makes no exceptions. Everything 'strictly by the book'. She has the atmosphere of a police woman or prison warden.
On the dubious occasion of our first meeting back in April (our previous doctor had suddenly been transferred out), she didn't even bother introducing herself. It seems that she considers me something akin to livestock. It's hard to determine whether this has anything to do with my being a foreigner, or whether she's like this with Japanese patients, as well.
She's the fourth doctor to take up the Tuesday morning out patient slot in the three years we've been going, and the first to bluntly refuse to let Mina take a smart phone snap shot of my file diagnosis from the desktop computer screen (so she can translate it for me).
She literally bristled when Mina asked at our last visit, even going so far as to turn the screen off - as if she thought that we'd try to secretly photograph it anyways. We were both a bit taken aback by this cringeworthy show of bad faith, to be honest. The three previous specialists were easy going, and all fine with letting Mina take a screen snap of the diagnosis.
She also makes a point of talking far too fast at me in Japanese. It's apparent that my level is such that I can't understand what she's on about. I even made a point of mentioning it to her last time. Her response? A thin smile and faint chuckle.
English conversation classes for doctors were a mainstay of my business over here for many years, so I know that they can all speak the language to some degree. In fact, it's required. Still, even when asked, a lot of them simply refuse to accommodate their foreign patients. They'll say that speaking English makes them feel 'uneasy', or that they're afraid of fumbling the language and being misunderstood.
Fair enough, I suppose. This is Japan, after all.
Beyond the language issue, it's fairly obvious that she's just going to be one of 'those' people - uptight, stern and unwieldy.
Needless to say, we're both looking forward to the assumed end of her Tuesday morning stint next spring.
As for the prescribed toxic cream, it needs to be applied three times a week for a month, then four weeks off, and a further check up. It's quite likely I won't have any final verdict on whether or not it was effective until mid November. In the worst case, I may be looking at another surgery in early in 2026... just over a year past the basal cell thing I had sliced off my neck just before last Christmas.
As things sit now, I would prefer to push it forward as far as I can, and wait for the next doctor to take care of it.
In the interim, I just feel incredibly fortunate that Mina has a talent for spotting these things, which have a habit of cropping up in locations that I can't actually see. Out of 14 biopsies so far, 3 have come up problematic, putting my odds of getting a crap result at 21.42%. From a glass half full perspective, I guess that could as translate to almost a roughly 79% chance of the 'spot in question' being nothing to worry about at all...though I've always been a drinking vessel half empty sort of chap.
As additional misery and stress do me no favours down the line, I'm trying train myself to look at the inevitable crap results that do show up as positives - as long as they're early stage and treatable. I'm terrified of getting a melanoma (the most serious diagnosis), so anything lesser is a win, and while I'm not a big fan of the surgeries, it's sure that I'd be even less enamoured with a longer course of more invasive therapies, or death.
Anyone that's dealt with any sort of cancer diagnosis will tell you that it's a life changing event. It's scary. Every day without some terrible or worrying news is a good day. It's so easy to piss and moan about the usual stuff...but when that cancer ugliness rears its ugly mug, it really tends to put things into perspective.
September 16th
This year’s ‘endless summer’ has been making it harder than usual to rally the troops and get anything productive done.
My longterm 'Learn Japanese Kana' project is still afoot, and while I do manage to get some practice and drilling in for at least a short while every day, progress has kind of slowed the last few weeks. About 3/4's of my way through Hiragana. Hopefully I'll get a burst of energy after the equinox holiday next week. It's just been too hot.
It's been tough to focus on the blog, too. It's hard being creative in this stifling, sweat dripping oven of a flat. Some afternoons, I just opt out and try to nap.
(Too hot - Specials)
In addition to this year's prolonged summer heat, the perpetual construction and renovation in and around our danchi has moved into high gear yet again.
After weathering an early spring filled with just about every unpleasantness imaginable out in the rear north courtyard (where the old adventure playground was), now the focus of the perpetual wrecking crew's deconstructive endeavours appear to be shifting back to the apartment buildings proper. While the degraded concrete surrounding the buildings has finally given way to some newer, less crap looking paving stone, the main courtyard area and playground still look like something out of Gaza.
Never mind that we went through almost 8 months of sheer hell with all of the kodan company's renovations and re-painting less than two years ago... now it looks like the jaws of hell are opening up yet again. I imagine this will go until at least early next spring. The scaffolding and sun blocking tarps are now back up on the north side, while a massive steel cage shed has been erected less than two meters from our front verandah on the south side. It's all a far cry from peaceful and idyllic.
The stated objective this time around is to replace all of the 40 year old sliding doors and windows with new double glazed affairs that should be less drippy and better at keeping the heat in during the winter. The current windows are thin and shitty. The burglars we had in here back in 2010 got through them with some cheapo glass cutters in no time at all. They also bleed condensation like a bastard when it gets really cold out. It's a real pain in the ass to deal with. Of course we were given a choice to option in or out, and it's been promised that the new windows will be of no additional cost to anyone who agrees to have them put in. We optioned in, as we’re going to have to put up with the racket and inconvenience whether we elect to get them or not.
When this will actually go down is anyone’s guess. Mina called them and they told her that they were running 'behind schedule' (surprise, surprise). The shed out front filled up with empty aluminum door and window frames toward the end of last week, and it looks like the labourers are waiting on the delivery of enough glass plates and screen door fly nets to complete assembly.
At the point they’re finally ready, we’ll be asked to book our preferred time, then wait for a response and confirmation.
When the day finally comes, they’ll show up early on the appointed morning, turn our living space upside down and inside out, and make an absolute hell of a racket for the better part of a day. Mina will also have to book the day off of work to make sure there are no misunderstandings (or worse) between the Ape City Wrecking Crew and yours truly, which might pose some unexpected challenges, as it seems that a lot of the 'muscle' behind the current operation aren't native Japanese speakers. For the last couple of weeks, it’s been a daily aural montage of construction worker Malay being shouted between buildings and across the work site. I guess they aren't big on using phones when they can just holler at each other back in their native equatorial climes. This loveliness, coupled with the annoying sound of metal hammering metal and steel pipes clanging together from just before 9 am until just after 5 is enough to drive anyone around the bend.
Fingers crossed that our particular chapter in this never ending saga of urban renewal doesn’t end up going down in deepest, darkest winter. A couple of days ago, Mina informed me that the quarterly three month forecast projected a very sudden transition to cold and frigid toward the end of the year. That’s always the way it goes in these parts. Today’s it’s 36C and jungle humid. In two days, we’ll be lucky to hit 24C. It can be a little hard to adjust to such drastic seasonal shifts.
September 17th
Out to the university hospital with Mina this morning. Today's mission was to get my latest problematic skin thing checked on, and pick up another month's worth of toxic cream. The anal retentive newbie doctor was off for some reason, so we saw her fill in, the prematurely balding male doctor who usually sees the Tuesday morning outpatients.
He seemed competent enough, took out his little ultra-magnifier and checked the spot on my upper right arm, and a newer 'companion spot' that appeared a couple of days ago - which he determined (guessed) was nothing to be concerned about. When he had a look at the scar on my neck, he came across a newish spot a little lower and to to the right that he said he 'wondered about'.
Lovely.
He stopped short of recommending a biopsy, and told us to go ahead and apply the toxic cream at the same time we do the spot on my right arm - three times a week for a month, then wait to see where everything is at when I come back for my mid-November follow up.
Needless to say, I'm not super thrilled. I wasn't really expecting this today. I figured we'd just be in to get another script for month's worth of cream, and not another little potentially malignant surprise.
I guess this is why the anal retentive girl doctor said that surgery wasn't always the best first line option with pre-cancerous spots. As I get older there will likely be more of these showing up at shorter intervals, and no one wants to be getting sliced and stitched up two or three times a year if it's not absolutely necessary.
It takes almost three months for one of those surgeries to totally heal up. The size of the scar the last one left behind was a bit unexpected, as well.
Apparently I still haven't fully adjusted to the fact that this skin cancer business is an albatross that I'm going to have to get accustomed to hauling around for the rest of my days.
September 19th
Come October, Japan is heading toward yet another leadership vote. It came as little surprise when the dominant Liberal Democrats (Jiminto) ruling coalition suffered a rather stunning defeat in July's lower house elections. The current PM, Shigeru Ishiba, formally stepped down a couple of weeks ago, to ostensibly take responsibility for his party's stunning defeat. His term lasted less than a year. While there's little doubt that his poor handling of the ongoing tariff debacle with the American Fascists also played a role in hastening his departure, there's been a recent groundswell of broad based dissatisfaction over the state of things in general over here.
The general populace appear to be growing weary of the ruling coalition's constant scandals...the incessant lying, thieving, and unapologetic, gross incompetence that has simply become a matter of course in the nation's political life.
As life grinds on, there are a number of pressing issues that the usually apathetic and politically disinterested J-natives are finally starting to show a degree of concern over.
Inflation is continuing to bite. Wages aren't increasing nearly enough to keep pace with rising prices. The nation's birthrate continues to decline year-on-year. Who will fill the jobs and pay the taxes needed to keep the wheels of society turning, as the majority continues to grey?
To fill the gaps and keep money flowing into the nation's tax coffers, recent LDP administrations have started to allow for more temporary foreign workers to enter the country, in an attempt to pick up the growing amount of gathering slack.
Of course there's also the worrisome business of King Donald and his punitive tariff campaign against America's closest (former?) allies taking a huge bite out of some of the country's key industries (autos and steel being the two that immediately come to mind)...but let's scroll back to the multi-pronged issue of foreigners for a moment.
With the weak yen making Japan an attractive destination for cost conscious travelers from near and far, a certain level of gaijin fatigue - even resentment - has started to set in. Add to this the aforementioned issue of foreign workers - increasing numbers of young people - chiefly from Southeast Asia, the Near East and places like Nepal have been permitted to come in on five year visas to do, ostensibly to work at jobs the Japanese don't want to do.
With all these foreign workers and holiday makers suddenly dotting the once purely Japanese landscape, the J-natives are starting to feel like they're watching something of an invasion unfold.
Suddenly their precious archipelago is looking like (gasp)...part of the world at large.
What started out as a trickle has become something of a flood. Within the last ten years, the number of these 'temporary' workers has visibly increased. One can see them working in restaurants, convenience stores, supermarkets, hospitals, on construction sites...the list goes on. It's become commonplace. Japan has no experience in dealing with immigrants or any kind of ethnic diversity - with the notable exception of a legacy population of ethnic Koreans, many descended from people brought over here as (forced) labourers during the county's colonial era. That's been a long-running clusterfuck. To this day, the Japanese Korean community continues to face discrimination. Three or four generations on they are still denied birthright Japanese citizenship, and made to apply for South Korean passports if they wish to travel.
Historically, Japan has always been homogenous (or so they like to believe), and hard for outsiders to settle in. The idea that some kind of new fangled 'gaijin diaspora' will be over-running the country, robbing and killing, sapping the nation's precious social service resources...and 'eating all of the rice' (yes, this has been voiced as a point of concern) touches a nerve, and stokes age-old xenophobias.
Ten or fifteen years ago, this situation was pretty far from anyone's wildest dreams...yet here we are.
The new reality.
This 'perfect storm' has worked to facilitate a fertile atmosphere for the quick rise of an individual who would seize on situational opportunism in order to launch a negative, populist ideological platform to suit the times. The template is nothing new.
Sadly, it was no real surprise that the big winner in July's lower house elections was an upstart party by the name of Sanseito. They ran a negative, MAGA-style campaign, using the slogan 'Japan First', and succeeded in seizing on the population's anxieties, and growing fatigue in/mistrust of the long standing political status quo.
Unfortunately, Sanseito's big draw was their anti-foreigner, anti-immigration rhetoric.
The party's leader, You Tuber, ex LDP member and former supermarket manager Sohei Kamiya, cites Donald Trump as an inspirational figure, and seems to co-opt the same populist lines that MAGA uses to attract its support base. Until he adopted the recent anti-foreigner shtick, he was a hardcore anti-vaxxer. Now he's added xenophobic race baiting and throw-back nationalism to his foundation mix of disinformation and conspiracy theories.
Given the opportunity, he would see Japan wind it's social clock back to the Imperialist 1930's, and implement policies reminiscent of those put in place by former Prime Minister Hideki Tojo's wartime military government.
As with Trump and his MAGA group, Kamiya runs his party top down, as an autocrat. Though he doesn't hesitate to use people to his advantage, he quickly disposes of them if he feels they might be garnering influence, or drawing too much of 'his' spotlight. He is insistent that the buck starts and stops with him, and only him As such, his party bears more resemblance to a religious cult than a legitimate political organization. For the sake of comparison, the defunct Aum Shinrikyo group (now Aleph) and South Korea-based Unification Church immediately come to mind. Oh...and MAGA, of course.
Sanseito does extremely well with the less travelled and poorly educated...under employed and jobless younger people, disaffected homemakers and a class of bitter, redundant middle aged men looking for easy scapegoats to hang their long list of woes on. While Sanseito appears to be something of a beacon to a many of the nation's dead-enders, it also attracts a sub-sect of disillusioned urban professionals - people like doctors, who also seem to buy into the lies and conspiracy nonsense that Kamiya peddles.
Some of the group's larger rallies have been kind of scary looking. While there have always been fringe ultra-rightists in Japan - similar to neo-Nazis or white nationalists back home - in my years over here, I'd never seen a galvanized crowd of 'regular' Japanese get enthusiastically swept up by such an obviously hate filled ideology - and most concerningly, one that actively targets people like myself.
Unsolicited longterm ex-pat point of view?
Xenophobia and thinly veiled racism is absolutely nothing new here. Regardless of how much one tries to integrate, we foreign residents are largely simply 'tolerated'. To be a gaijin living among the Japanese is to perpetually be oil floating on water.
Up until recently, racism was considered unsightly and shameful. Something to be covered up and ignored. The perpetual 'elephant in the room', so to speak. No wanted to come out and really own their bigotry. Things are starting to change. Look at what's happened in the United States. If enough people stand up and admit that they are bigots, homophobes and racists, suddenly the taboo of it evaporates and it becomes a movement that the disenfranchised can comfortably hook their chuckwagons to. One swastika is shocking. A sea of them becomes de rigueur. There's safety in numbers.
A mainstream hate group like the MAGA cult would have been unthinkable to see 20 years ago. Now Germany has the AfD. Then there's Farage and his nationalist assholes in England. Le Penn and the re-tooled National Front in France. Now Japan has Sanseito.
It feels like the 1930's all over again.
While it is troubling to see a new, more focussed wave of anti-foreigner sentiment, I suppose it's ultimately to be expected. Unfortunately, the Japanese will inevitably emulate whatever they see going on in the United States. This time it's political hard right nativism and neo-fascism. It must seem really vibrant and new to the people taking it up afresh...those who really suffered the last time Japan went down this road are nearly all dead and gone.
Unfortunately, parties like Sanseito have a few valid points... specifically, foreigners who aren't residents of Japan should not be allowed to purchase land or properties (as they currently are).
Speculators - chiefly moneyed mainland Chinese - love remotely playing lucrative international real estate markets. They have no intention of living in or maintaining the properties they purchase. Their sole intention as speculators is to remotely monitor market price increases and quick flip the properties they accumulate in order to realize maximum profits. Allowed to continue unchecked, the long term impact of this behaviour on a city and its residents is nothing short of disastrous.
One only need look at what happened in my hometown, Vancouver. The damage done on every level is irreparable.
As far as the over tourism issue goes, it's easy to see that it's gotten out of control...yet who is to blame? If one puts a saucer of milk outside the door, and a bunch of cats show up and start f**cking up your balcony, who is to blame?
The cats?
The tourists bring in a shitload of revenue, which is sorely needed...yet there seems to have been little forethought as to how to prepare for this influx. There have been no real attempts to put any appropriate infrastructure in place to deal with this seemingly endless stream of 'inbounders', or the inevitable challenges that accompany hosting so many of them.
Double tier pricing is one idea. Natives and residents should be able to pay a bit less. Raising the exit tax levied on foreigners at the airports is another. Yet, as usual, the Japanese like to make excuses and point fingers at the easiest targets, instead of doing the work, and moving to correct the situation in any decisive way.
Who suffers in interim?
The people that live here, of course.
In the meantime, parties like Sanseito will use online misinformation to galvanize their largely uninformed and malleable base of supporters. These folks are perpetually looking for the most convenient scapegoat - that all important hook to hang all of their grievances on...when the blame really lies with the corrupt and ineffective politicians that allowed things to get like this in the first place.
Look at the negative transformation that consumed Germany in the 1930's...or what's happening under Trump's American Fascists right now.
Sadly, the foreign resident community will have to weather the brunt of this horseshit. In the meantime, it's up to the J-natives to get out ahead of this. To be just a bit smarter and more informed.
Perhaps this is expecting too much?
The 2025 leadership race will culminate with a vote count on October 4th. Despite their strident showing in July, Sanseito doesn't yet have enough seats to wield any real influence on the outcome - though history has demonstrated the folly in underestimating what a group like this can achieve. No one expected Hitler to become Chancellor in 1933...or Trump President in 2016. Japan's government is parliamentary, like in the United Kingdom and Canada, so the leadership is chosen by elected representatives - not the general public.
The five candidates are all members of the ruling LDP, so despite a few re-shufflings, the next leader will be captaining the same ship, with largely the same crew. None of the individuals vying for top spot seem to be offering anything too hopeful or different; no matter what, the 'winner' will be constrained by the bureaucracy of the ruling party regardless of his or her ambitions to effect any real change.
Of the five candidates, one is relatively young (45), and the son of former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. Some pin hopes that Shinjiro Koizumi's successful candidacy could bring about a badly needed generational shift within the stale ranks of an aging and out-of-touch party. While this may seem to offer some hope for at least incremental change, his age will ultimately work against him. Simply put, it's 'not his turn'. He has to wait on the staircase until he's 'paid his dues' running the party hamster wheel. Youth and idealism are not valued quantities in Japan's political mainstream. He may have a better shot 20 years down the line.
The most troubling contender is also the only woman in the field, Sanae Takaichi (64). She's an ultra-rightist with an extremely problematic track record. Takaichi has been caught up in a number of embarrassing scandals over the years, including being photographed in the company of a neo-Nazi group while visiting Germany around 10 years ago. She is an opponent of press freedoms, a xenophobe and a sloppy liar. Among other things, one could see her possibly extending an olive branch to Sanseito and bringing them even further into the mainstream, were she to garner enough support on October 4th.
September 25th
Volume 3 - Fall '25
1) Nature In 40% CBD OIL (10 ml, 400mg CBD)
Over the last several years, I've tried various legal cannabinoid products here in Japan. I started off ordering from a company called Naturecan. Oils, gummies, skin balm, edibles. Originating in the UK, they sell legal hemp derived wellness products and supplements across Europe, Australia and Asia. Everything I've ordered has been reliable and consistent...but fucking expensive. A 10 ml dripper of 40% CBD oil is ¥19000 if you don't manage to get it on sale - and while their discount sales are frequent enough, you'll still end up paying ¥10,000 on a good day. With cash being tighter these days, I've stretched out a bit and found some cheaper alternatives. Cannatech is great for gummies - as long as you don't mind a bit of a 'weedy' after taste. They sell a variety, and they tend to cost half to a third of what Naturecan charges (the caveat being that Naturecan's gummies don't have any funky weed after taste).
A couple of months ago, as I was hitting the bitter end of the last of the three 10ml Naturecan CBD/CBN drippers I'd got from the company's big New Year's sale (¥6,600 a piece - a 70% discount), I decided to give Nature-In a try. I'd seen them advertised on Amazon and added them to my 'wish list' awhile back. They are the most competitively priced in a surprisingly broad field...even more so if you manage to get them on sale. Without any discount, 10ml will set you back ¥3,900. On sale, they can be had for ¥3,490. That's a far cry from what Naturecan is charging.
As for quality - aside from a slightly different weedy aftertaste from the Naturecan oil (which also has a distinctly 'weedy' essence'), it's a comparable if not identical product. I might even venture that the Nature-In dripper seems to be a slightly more generous 10ml, which is not a bad thing. So...big win here. Gotta keep those panic attacks at bay, and at least somewhat neutralize my Irish temper...without busting the bank.
Major thumbs up.
2) Alien: Earth
Overall, this was a pleasant surprise. The Alien movie franchise has been through its ups and downs since the original film's release back in 1979. While James Cameron's Aliens (1986) fared well with audiences and critics alike, the two following films met with a decidedly more mixed reception. With the 'Ripley' saga apparently finished, someone at 20th Century Fox decided that stretching out and adapting the Alien vs. Predator comic book series to live action might be a profitable move. While the first one (AVP -2004) apparently did enough business to justify making another (AVP - 2007), they were artless, hollow and noisy affairs.
After a five year pause, Ridley Scott's highly anticipated prequel 'Prometheus' was finally released (albeit to mixed reviews) in 2012. We went to see it at the local IMAX; I thought it was interesting, well crafted, and cool, and in a completely different class to the low 'B' grade AVP movies.
In stark contrast, it's 2017 sequel, 'Alien: Covenant', left a lot to be desired. Why Scott decided to change directions instead of simply following through with the narrative he established in Prometheus was a puzzling mis-step. Maybe he thought that rushing to a clumsy re-introduction of the more recognizable Xenomorph (alien monster) would spike box office receipts? It didn't. Given Covenant's failure at the box office, plans for a conclusion to the trilogy were shelved indefinitely.
Just when the franchised seemed to be dead and gone, 2024 saw the release of Alien: Romulus. Ridley Scott returned, albeit this time as producer, handing the directing and writing duties over to relative newcomers Fede Alvarez (Evil Dead, Don't Breathe) and Rodo Sayagues.
We sat down and watched it when it came to streaming around six months ago. My expectations were low, and I was pleasantly surprised at how good it actually was. It looked great, hit all the beats, and found ways to connect to both the original 1979 film and Scott's Prometheus...sort of circumventing the whole Covenant debacle. Most importantly, it felt fresh and energetic.
I had serious doubts when I heard that FX was putting together the Alien: Earth streaming series over a year ago. Memories of the awful AVP crossover movies came flooding back...though when I read that Noah Hawley (Fargo) was at the helm, there seemed to be at least a glimmer of hope that it might be alright.
We finished watching the season finale last night, and while there are a few 'cringe elements', overall I've really enjoyed it. At 8 episodes, it felt well paced. As with Romulus, it connects with key elements of the original film (particularly as far as the sets and visual elements are concerned), is generally well conceived and engages in some interesting world building. Without spilling the beans, the story takes place right between the events of the first and second Alien movies, and there seems to be some foreshadowing of elements from the more 'action oriented' second film in the final episode.
This time, Ridley Scott is on board as executive producer. Tonally, I felt that there were some visual elements reminiscent of the original Bladerunner, though I wonder if that was deliberate or simply happenstance? Without dropping any spoilers, I will say that the introduction of some new, non-Xenomorph aliens really added to the mix.
Criticisms? I'm not really fond of the look of the main Xenomorph (the franchise's signature baddie) here. I appreciate the fact that they are doing it more old school - with a mix of costumes and practical effects instead of all CGI - but the signature baddie seems a bit like a guy in a fancy rubber suit at times. I also wonder where they're going with the main character's ability to communicate with the Xenomorphs. While it's an interesting and unexpected twist, I'd hate to see the show suddenly devolve into some kind of bloody, futuristic version of 'Old Yeller'. The heavy play out song selections over the credits at the end of each episode are also pretty cool.
That said, it sucks having to wait a year or more to see where all of this goes. I hope they don't fuck it up.
A relatively strong start. I give Series One a grudging 8/10.
3) David Bowie - I Can't Give Everything Away (2002-2016)
This sixth Bowie box set covers his musical output from 2002 through to his final album and posthumous e.p. releases in 2016.
After a health scare cut his 'Reality Tour' short in 2004, David embarked on an eight year hiatus from recording and touring. During this period he made only a handful of public appearances, leading to broad speculation that he was in ill health and had retired. When he re-emerged quite suddenly with 'The Next Day' album in the spring of 2013, there was strong word-of-mouth, but very little promotion and no accompanying tour, or press junkets. For this final stretch of his career, Bowie was determined to do things his way, and on his own terms.
This set collects his final four offerings. Front and centre are the two immediate pre-sabbatical albums - Heathen (2002), Reality (2003), and his final entries - The Next Day (2013) and Blackstar (2016), along with the posthumous 'No Plan' e.p., two live albums (one previously unreleased), and a slew of b-sides, one-offs and studio out-takes.
This collection's physical release is available as 12CD or 18 vinyl boxed sets. I'm about halfway through the 12 hours of content on my streaming app, and currently listening to the 2025 remaster of The Next Day. Of course I already have the original releases, so with the exception of the Live at Montreux Jazz Festival (2002) and the two CD set of collected out-takes and rarities, it's all stuff I've heard before.
I suppose the remasters are nice, but I don't really notice much of a difference between these 2025 versions and the originals.
The Montreux album features a lengthly, career spanning set, which wraps up with a rare live reading of Bowie's classic 1976 album, 'Low'. It's interesting to hear how this legacy era material was interpreted by his 2002 touring band. While they basically stick to the original arrangements, there are some cool little tweaks here and there. Bowie's long time pianist Mike Garson's characteristic 'Alladinsane' type embellishments in a few of the numbers work to flesh out some of the rather sparse original arrangements. In some numbers, expected synth lines were dropped in favour of guitars, sonically warming the rather stark source material, making it feel a bit more earthy or tactile. It's a fun listen.
The big takeaway from this extensive late career survey? There's nothing disappointing here. Perhaps it's the return of classic era producer Tony Visconti (who helmed all four proper albums here) or a sense that each of these records possibly mattered to him more than some of his previous mid-late career work had. It's hard to say. From the works collected herein, it is certain that in these final years of his career, he maintained a standard that few others could hope to aspire to.
September 27th
And that's where we're at for now.
The weather is still relatively hot. Today hit 33C again...but it's starting to feel a bit more autumnal in the evenings and early mornings. I suppose we should enjoy it while it lasts, because word is that winter will drop hard, fast and a wee bit earlier than usual this year.
As the world seems to be disintegrating in all directions, try to squeeze whatever good you can manage out of each day. Try to do some good, and spend time with the right people. I'll be back to continue this discourse on the very cusp of the winter holiday season...so a pleasant autumn to anyone who's managed to stick with me through yet another over long cud chew.
Until then, you'd do well to remember that, no matter where you go, there you are...there and nowhere else.
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