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How Japan Has Ruined Your Chances Of Getting Laid

June 2, 2010

Listen, I hate to do this to you, guys, but I need to tell you something important. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you that wouldn’t break your heart but it’s become really clear that I just need to come on out and say it, no matter how painful: Japan is totally cockblocking you.

My friends like to joke that inside of my chest, in the dark part behind my sternum where my heart used to be, there’s a very small and very old man who smells like Old Spice and Copenhagen and sits at the bar at the VFW all day and still bitches about Pearl Harbor. My friends are probably right in that regard, and I’ll go ahead and admit right here that I really, really can’t stand post-imperial Japanese culture.

I did not say I hate Japanese people, so knock off the racist bullshit, y’all. I kind of just want tell them all to knock it off and behave like grownups. I haven’t the patience or the fortitude to hate anything consistently of effectively. I am tired of their exports, though. I enjoy about 10% of their foodstuffs and retch at the other 90%. I distrust their affection for karaoke, resent their affection for baseball and, as a big, loud, chunky white girl, I have been dumped for cute, smart Japanese girls by engineering students so many times that I can’t help the bitterness. But I don’t hate them.

What I said was that I have real and very big issues with Japanese culture, and that’s different. (Yes, you can generalize a thing like culture because it is, by its very nature, a big giant generalization of people.) My friend Sass laughs at the futility of my dislike. “I think it’s adorable that you expect people to take you seriously when you try to explain why you hate something as cute and wonderful as Japan.” Which, because I am American and serious and not at all charmed by the cute, it pisses me off even more.

It’s not cute. It’s not funny. It’s not clever. In fact, it’s not all that remarkable in any direction, and even though you’ve all been dick-riding on the shiny bright uniqueness of Japan, you are simply wrong. Know how I know? Because in 1899, Oscar Wilde said so, and he was a homo, and homos know what is and is not fabulous:  “The actual people who live in Japan are not unlike the general run of English people; that is to say, they are extremely commonplace, and have nothing curious or extraordinary about them.” That’s right. The actual people are as droll and ridiculous as everyone in line in front of you at Wal-Mart the night you lined up to buy a Wii. Dry your eyes.

And, full disclosure:  I was once in a not-very-healthy-or-satisfying relationship with a particularly virulent sadsack Wapanese manchild, and though it pains me to admit this, I almost married him. Almost. Until he asked me go to couples therapy with him to work out our shit (and by our shit, I mean his shit that was totally hitting a very large fan and spraying me) and then he promptly took off for a sexually ambiguous rumspringa in Tokyo in an effort to “find himself.” There are dealbreakers, and then there are things that break deals, and this is… well, you get it. At 35, there shouldn’t be a lot left of yourself that you feel you need to find. You’ve checked under the bed and behind the couch, right? Then you’ve probably found all of yourself that you’re going to find. Running off to the magical land of make believe with giant robots in the harbors and vending machines full of live kittens pretty much guarantees you that no matter how hard you beg, Peter Pan, there is no amount of American dollars that could ever convince me to let you clumsily hump me again.

And that’s why I’m trying to help you now, Cosplaya-san.  Japan isn’t just overexposed and overrated. It’s also actively slaying your fanboy chances of getting laid. Cockblocking you! You could have two big handfuls of ass right now, boys, and that’s better than two scoops of raisins, except your otaku tendencies are getting in the way. I know you’re early adopters of new technology and Japan seems shiny and awesome, but when it comes to developing successful heteronormative relationships with women, Japan is seriously fucking up your stride. Do I think it’s on purpose like some big Yakuza/Illuminati conspiracy? Fuck, no. You’re just idiots and can’t help yourselves, so I’mma help you out and tell you why you should back up offa dem nutz. Dem small, hairless, inscrutable, almond-shaped nutz.

Here it is, boys, and I need you to listen up: Japan’s relationship with women is more fucked up even than yours. As though that was even possible.

Japanese culture has done bad things to women; specifically by oversexualizing girlhood. As distasteful as American society can be, there is no “MILF” or “Cougar” in Japanese society. They are the cult of cute. They took the Catholic schoolgirl fetish and institutionalized it, nationalized it and, in the case of the tourist traffic around Harajuku Station, made it a point of fucking patriotism. By fetishising cute as a culture, Japan has largely done (for real) what the feminists argue the West has done with pubic grooming: defined sexuality by the prepubescent. This has a lot of side effects, not the least of which is the resultant otaku society of men who  not just exemplify but revel in the worship of sexualized girls.

You’ve seen it. Don’t front like you haven’t. You’ve spend real American dollars on hentai  (“just to see what it’s all about,” you said), or you’ve borrowed someone else’s.  And it seemed totally okay because it’s a comic, right? A comic of 12-year-old schoolgirls being sexually brutalized by a robotic ManBearPig, but still, a comic. The fact that it’s completely fantastical and impossible (because everybody knows that ManbearPigs aren’t robotic!) makes it even more acceptable. So it’s okay, right?

No. It’s not. Imagine the little anime cartoony girl wasn’t drawn but photographed. Imagine that she really was 12 instead of trying hard to look 12. Now imagine she’s your own mother at 12 years old. See what I mean? That shit is not okay. In fact, it’s three train lines and two bus transfers past where the edge of okay might have been. The National Institutes of Health reports that fully 38% of American women are victims of sexual abuse before they’re 18 years old. Half of those get it before they’re 12.  I maintain that if 80% of Japanese otakus got busted here in the US with their hentai, they’d be required to register on a list of pervy creepers and couldn’t live near schools or playgrounds. Don’t be that guy.

The moral and ethical bankruptcy of tentacle-rape cartoons aside, it’s not actually doing you any favors with the real ladies, either. Constant reinforcement of hypersexualized children doesn’t help you develop the skill or capacity to talk to grown-ass women, and for all their wacky sex obsession, the Japanese are living with that exact fallout: Asocial, maladjusted manchildren either stunt their emotional development altogether or apply misplaced affection to nonthreatening inanimate objects, because actual real live women get older and talk and do other uncomfortable things that don’t play into the fantasy. And those real live women that have officially outgrown the cuteness of the office girl? They live at home with their parents and sleep with boyfriend pillows instead of boyfriends.

The stereotypes are shifting, guys. It’s not just salary man and office girl anymore. Now it’s hikikomori and the parasitic singles.

Please. For the love of everything decent, for the health and safety of girls, for your own sexual future: break up with Japan. She’s no good for you.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Hindenberg permalink
    June 3, 2010 12:16 am

    Rare form, “jedi.” Rare form.

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