Japan leaves lasting memories
Food, crowds weren’t always appealing,
but scenic views made trip worthwhile
The first thing one notices about
Japan, and is aware of the whole
visit, is that it is a very crowded
country. All those people who
worried about Japan taking over
the world in the 1980s should rest
easy. They don’t care about world
domination, they’re too busy trying
to move around each other on
sidewalks and in buildings.
Because of the lack of space,
people will build anywhere. You
can see houses built on hills and
even mountains that would give
coastal Californians theshivers. The
houses (or, more likely, apartments)
themselves are scarcely roomy. A
spaciousjapanese apartment would
go on the market as an efficiency
apartment here, or be used as a
small storage space. Bathrooms are
roughly the size of broom closets.
In business districts, the shops
and stores are built literally out to
the narrow streets, with a thin side
walk separating the two. Small
wonder that Tokyo has the highest
cost-per-square-foot priced real
estate in the world.
And speaking of the streets,
they’re narrow. So are the high
ways. And they’re so congestedas
to make rush hour, at 90th and
Dodge in Omaha seem like the
Indy 500. It took me, one time, six
hours to cover the 70 miles to
Tokyo from Yokosuka.
Alleyways, homes to dumpsters
and the homeless in America, are
utilized. Scores of stands and shops
line alleys — many of them restau
rants.
The restaurants, or more specifi
cally, the food, provide some of the
more interesting aspects of the
culture. I never developed a taste
for it, unfortunately. Japanese food
cooked in Japan is an acquired
taste. I knew those who swore up
and down that squid was delicious,
but I' kept remembering "20,000
Leagues Beneath the Sea," with one
of those things trying to swallow a
sub.
Hearing about all the deaths
from eating improperly cooked
blowfish didn’t do wonders for my
appetite, either. If it didn’t have
eyeballs, it had suckers, both of
which I avoided.
And, of course, I had to leam to
eat with chopsticks. It’s really not as
hardasyou might believe, although
the first couple of times I was
reminded of all those pictures of
Nixon manhandling a pair in China.
It’s all in the wrist action.
Lest one be fearful, don’t think
you have to subsist on sushi your
whole stay. There’s nothing quite
like laying down 300 yen for a
Teriyaki Burger at McDonald’s.
Perhaps the oddest thing about
my whole sojourn in Japan was the
fact that most of the time, while
outside, I was the only Occidental
in a decidedly Oriental environ
ment. It might have been worse,
had the people*been given to star
ing, but they were either too polite
or too indifferent to notice. If you
actually stop and ask questions,
practically all the people are very
polite and helpful.
You might occasionally get what
looks like a peace sign, but the two
fingers mean “We owe you two" —
cities, that is, namely, Hiroshima
and Nagasaki. Some things die pretty
hard. During the Gulf War, when I
was there, anti-war protestors staged
regular rallies outside the nearby
naval base (and, of course, they
were relatively polite, as demon
strations go). It wasn’t screaming
hordes of fanatics screaming “Death
to the Great Satan," but it was a
reminder that not everyone out
there loves us. Japan also has very
little in the way of environmental
legislation. The harbors are fairly
polluted; I can remember walking
along a seawall at night, and kick
ing gravel into the water. To my
amazement, the water fluoresced
blue where the gravel hit. Defi
nitely not a swimming hole, yet I
saw people fishing there every day.
My consumption of Teriyaki burgers
increased thereafter.
Two things will stay in my mind
forever, though. The first was look
ingupon the Pacific Ocean from a
cliff on a clear day. The surf crashed,
the water glinted like a fistful of
jewels, the seagulls called to one
another. It was only 3,000 miles to
California.
The second, and most beautiful,
was watching thesun rise on Mount
Fuji on a winter’s morning, turning
the snow cap orange against a
violet sky and half moon, wending
its way down the slopes. You may
have seen the Rockies, or other
mountain ranges, but the sight of
that lone volcanic cone rising to the
heavens burns its way into your
memory, as it has the national mind
of the Japanese people — small
wonder it’s one of their most popu
lar images, like our Statue of Lib
erty.
I didn’t get to make the climb up
Fuji, though. That will have to wait
for my return trip.
Sam Kepflckt is a graduate student In
history, a Daily Nebraskan columnist and
Diversions contributor.
Comic-book character gets even
.
The Spectre gives new meaning to the definition of “superhero”
Over the last few years comic
book companies have gone into
the past to get new characters.
Characters such as Ghost Rider,
Shade-The Changing Man, Sand
man, Animal Man ana others are all
old characters that were revamped
for the present. A few months ago
DC Comics brought back the Spec
tre, and they have hit a gold mine.
This book has all of the elements of
a great horror comic, basically, it’s
pretty damn creepy. “The Spectre"
is written by John Ostrander with
art by Tom Mandrake.
The Spectre is really James
Corrigan, a cop in the 1940s who
was killed by the mob. (They put
him in a barrel, filled it up with
cement and threw him into a river.)
Corrigan, however, was allowed to
come back as the Spectre, with the
condi tion that he avenge those who
cannot avenge themselves. Sounds
kind of cheesy right? In theory yes,
in practice no.
The Spectre is not one who
believes in any kind of mercy. He
tortures the guilty before they die.
Even after they are dead, they are
not free from the Spectre’s wrath. In
one issue he pursues a man to hell
in order to get some information.
The Spectre sees things in two
colors: black and white. You are
either good or you are evil; there is
no in-between. This should create
some interesting story lines in the
future: a hero who thinks that he
can do no wrong, but what if he
does.
For that matter, the Spectre can
not even really be called a hero.
The character is not from the same
vein as a Superman or a Batman.
Instead he is the manifestation of
the fear that everyone feels when
they are walking alone at night, the
fear that everyone feels when they
are confronted with a situation from
which they could receive bodily
harm. The only difference is that
the Spectre can strike back. And
that is where his appeal lies. He can
do things all of us can only dream
about doing.
“The Spectre" is well worth read
ing and could turn out to be the
sleeper hit of the year. Although the
book is not labeled “Mature Read
courtesy of DC Comics
ers," it contains strong language
and situations. Read this book and
you’ll get a whole new idea of the
term revenge.
William J. Harms to an arts and entertain
ment reporter for the Daily Nebraskan
and a Diversions contributor.
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