Cosplay

Last Friday, I was talking with one of my Japanese colleagues over lunch. We were having a rather in-depth conversation about the cos-play community. Cosplay (コスプレ), or costume roleplay, is a type of performance art in Japan, and abroad, where fans dress in costumes and accessories to represent a specific character or idea found in manga and/or anime.

I started by telling him that I thought it was very fascinating sub-culture in Japan, especially when comparing it to cosplayers in the States. And in that American context, at times, a little troubling.

He told me that in Japan it was a good chance for people to express themselves in ways that wouldn’t normally be available to them. (see: within the bounds of Japanese culture) He said that he couldn’t see how any negatives in cosplay could manifest in other parts of the world.

He said that every once and a while his family goes to Harajuku, an area in Tokyo known for its cos-players. There are times, he said, that he sees a woman, and admires how attractive she is, only to find out that it is actually a man.

This doesn’t upset him. He seemed honestly impressed that these people could pull of the illusion so well. I’d juxtapose his attitude against some pretty classic American stereotypes, that would be furious if they were fooled by a transvestite or drag queen. As though seeing them, and maybe inadvertently appreciating the illusion, somehow detracts from their own masculinity and calls their sexuality into question.

I told him that I could appreciate the freedom of expression that this gives Japanese people, and that I admire their commitment to the anime and manga that their costumes represent.

But to help him understand the differences between Japanese and American cosplay, and really the heart of my reservations to American cosplay, I asked him to imagine a 400 pound American man dressed as Sailor Moon.

He paused and said, “…Oh my….I see your point”

I rest my case.

False Starts

I hope that whenever someone gets a tattoo they consider their decision well thought out, but my hopes are slightly dashed when I see things like this.

Don’t be alarmed, I can assure you, these colors don’t bleed.

(Beyond the initial bleeding, of course, and the simulated bleeding, but I hear that’s normal.)

Your future 90 year old body is calling from the moon, and it wants to remind you that tattoos are permanent.

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Have you ever been merrily typing along, while looking at something else, and then realized that your hands had slipped to the left and you just wrote a whole bunch of gibberish?

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I got turtles, and got rid of turtles, all in the span of three weeks.

I’m going to go out on a limb, and say that I’m not a turtle person.

As a side note, pets should typically never be impulse purchases. And I quote, “Oh, turtles would be fun!”

—————–

I was brainstorming this week and decided that none of these ideas really deserved to become a full post.

Tattoos, keyboard finger placement, turtles?

Diagnosis: Slightly Boooooring.

Xenophobia

The other day, while we were on the second floor of the gym, an older woman started talking to us.

We were cooling off on one of the jiggle machines (pictured below), which are admittedly fun, and often quite hilarious.

The following conversation took place in Japanese.

Woman: [rattled mumblings, as the jiggle machine rendered her nigh unintelligible]

Me: I’m sorry, what was that?

Woman: [slows her machine down] Good afternoon, you must be tired.

Me: Ah, Good Afternoon! You must be be tired.

(You must be tired is a polite way to acknowledge that someone has been working hard)

Woman: [gesturing at the two of us] Where are you from?

Me: Oh, we’re from America.

Woman: When are you going back?

Me: [gesturing to my friend] Uhh…well, he’s going back in October.

Woman: He is going back to stay in America?

Me: Er…no, he’ll be back after a few days.

Woman: [looking at my friend] Don’t bring the influenza back.

Me: Oh, well, I’m sure he will be very careful…

Woman: Good, we don’t need influenza here, its bad! Take care!

Me: Thanks…you take care too!

This conversation, while amusing, is a good example of the slight xenophobia, and sometimes irrational behavior, of older Japanese folks. But really, tell me that some of us couldn’t have the same conversation with our grandmothers about something similar.

Not America, we love immigrants, right?

Incidentally, influenza, specifically H1N1, has been in the city for weeks now. So, there isn’t anything for us to bring back that isn’t already here. But if there is a breakout, we had better keep an eye on the foreign population, because Japanese people never travel overseas.

Except my boss, and colleagues….and thousands upon thousands of other Japanese people.

And this is the first thing you get when you google image search xenophobia.

Being Serious is Hard – Part 2

I was thinking today on what I wrote in “Being Serious is Hard – Part 1”. If we look beyond the obvious proofing errors and terrible writing style, I think there were some valuable keys to unlocking the psyche that is Zeus Thaber. (please pardon the awesome pseudonym.)

I have found the following things to be true:

1.  Sometimes I really can’t be serious when the situation calls for it. There is an element of my personality that gets stuck in lighthearted mode. It can often take a jump start from a ‘beyond normal circumstances’ moment to push me into seriousness.

2.  By putting up this affective barrier, I am being a selfish person. Not only am I denying those around me from experiencing the whole spectrum of my character, but I am also denying myself from experiencing the same in others.

While I am having to be more serious these days, perhaps I shouldn’t see it as such a bad thing. I recall writing in a draft of the first post that, “the pressure of this seriousness weighs on my heart like a load of lead bricks.”

First, we should all note how terribly melodramatic that sounds. Which is probably why it didn’t make it into what we will affectionately refer to as a ‘final draft’. Though it might also be important to note that I really did feel like that. It was a genuine toss up between posting it here or on myspace, right after the posts about how ‘my parents don’t understand me’, how ‘I can’t stop giggling in class’ and ‘omg, LOL!1!!, you have to take this personality quiz!’.

But I have digressed.

I think all of the seriousness floating around felt like a load of bricks for the same reason that the bar feels heavy the first time a person goes to the gym. They aren’t used to being able to deal with that much weight. So, metaphorically speaking, my lighthearted muscles are overdeveloped, and my serious muscles are languishing as a result.

So, I wondered about myself juxtaposed against the people that are habitually serious, and if it means that all the responsibility rests with me?

I say it doesn’t. It was a ridiculous assumption to assume that it did. What responsibility does rest with me is in successfully maintaining a balance between lightheartedness and seriousness. And more importantly, being able to discern when a situation calls for one or the other. Anyone else’s perceivable lack of balance should be my last concern.

Ok, that’s all.

Being Serious is Hard – Part 1

And in this case, I’m being very serious.

While I would really like to blame the month of September, as this was when I started noticing the serious-ing of things, I’m pretty sure that seriousness, realistically speaking, has been around far longer than that.

Please, don’t get me wrong, I think can be serious when the situation calls for it (or so I say). Admittedly, there are some people could probably argue that I’m lying to myself. There might be a seed of truth there.

Yes, there are things that demand my attention, my ‘serious’ attention. I’m not talking about global hunger, war, nuclear proliferation, or whatever. But things on which my attitude has an impact, things that reside on a personal level. These issues can be heavy problems, but frankly I’d rather err on the side of lightheartedness than taking them to the terribly serious extreme that others seem to find so immediately necessary.

How can the antonym of serious be lighthearted and the antonym of lighthearted be miserable?

For me being lighthearted is being unfettered. I think being truly serious with someone is probably one of the most direct forms of interpersonal intimacy. Is it understandable that when things start to get serious, I start to feel a little trapped (tell me that isn’t a sign of some relational defect). For example, when someone wants to talk to me about a serious matter, it makes me uncomfortable that I feel obligated to, even if I don’t feel close enough to them for something like this to happen.

If my over-lightheartedness, or a certain level of superficiality, are not valid behavior practices, then what about the serious ones? Does all the responsibility rest with me?

or maybe we balance each other out.

*shrug*

More later.