Japan 05: Idoru.

Her black hair, rough-cut and shining, brushed pale bare shoulders as she turned her head. She had no eyebrows, and both her lids and lashes seemed to have been dusted with something white, leaving her dark pupils in stark contrast.

And now her eyes met his.

He seemed to cross a line. In the very structure of her face, in geometries of underlying bone, lay coded histories of dynastic flight, privation, terrible migrations. He saw stone tombs in steep alpine meadows, their lintels traced with snow. A line of shaggy pack ponies, their breath white with cold, followed a trail above a canyon.

The curves of the river below were strokes of distant silver. Iron harness bells clanked in the blue dusk.

Laney shivered. In his mouth a taste of rotten metal.

The eyes of the idoru, envoy of some imaginary country, met his. 

William Gibson, Idoru

The manner in which life imitates art, or more specifically science fiction, never ceases to amaze me.  In William Gibson's 1996 novel Idoru, a musician decides to marry a digital Japanese pop star, or "idoru", who makes her public appearances as a hologram.

Welcome to the future - literally.  Hatsune Miku, whose name is Japanese for "the first sound from the future" is a vocaloid, the public face of a singing synthesizer application.  Miku started her virtual career in 2007, and has been doing live holographic appearances since 2009, including a performance as an opening act for Lady Gaga's ArtRave tour and a guest spot on David Letterman.

It's easy to see something like this as the future of pop music - a library of customizable digital performers who can be programmed with the musical style of your choice, and modified to match any audience demographic as desired. Come to think of it, have you ever noticed that when Taylor Swift* is performing live, sometimes you can almost see through her to the drummer...?

- Sid

* Dear Ms. Swift:  I tossed a coin and it came up heads, so I went with your name rather than Katy Perry's.  Please don't write a song about me. 

Japan 04: Gnomic Statement XIII.

If the Umbrella Corporation has a branch office in Yokohama, I'm thinking it must be here.

- Sid

P.S. Seriously though, could the architect have possibly designed a less friendly looking building?

Japan 03: Big in Japan.

The crowded open-air market on Nakamise-dōri near the Buddhist temple at Sensō-ji is a Tokyo landmark.  Over 80 small shops sell a staggering selection of items in a location which has been active since the 16th century.  Karli and I are touring the market with my friend and ex-coworker Terry and his wife Misaki, who are acting as hosts and guides for the middle part of our trip.

I'm not a huge shopper when it comes to travel souvenirs - generally I like to pick up a mug if I can find something suitable, if it survives the trip home a mug is a practical item that will last for years if you're careful doing the dishes, but most of the merchandise at the I ♥ SOMEPLACE level leaves me cold. However, as we make our way through the masses of people, a t-shirt hanging at one of the shops catches my roving eye.

For me, the recognition of Astro Boy (Mighty Atom in the original long-running  - and incredibly popular - Osamu Tezuka manga*) is immediate.  In its animated version, Astro Boy defined the look of anime* at its beginnings, and was one of the first Japanese animation exports to reach North American audiences, making its NBC debut in 1963, long before Sailor Moon or the Transformers.  It doesn't hurt that the shirt says SCIENCE FICTION in large lettering, either.

Rather than attempt to turn against the tide in order to take a closer look, we make our way to the end of the market and return via a side route with much less traffic.

Once back at the store, I take a second look and discover that the image is actually a lenticular add-on that shows Astro Boy's internal structure and outer shell, depending on the angle of view. It's maybe a bit pricey at ¥3,900, but it's enough of a unique item that I'm willing to make the investment - provided that the woman running the store can find something in my size. I wait patiently while three women hold t-shirts to my back, examine my shoulders and debate sizing in English and Japanese.

As it turns out when we get to our hotel and I have a chance to try the shirt on, I'm comfortably snug in a Japanese XL, which in North America would probably hang a bit loosely on me.  I might have even been able to wear an XXL in the unlikely event that they'd had one - even finding the XL involved a bit of digging around.

Sadly, this trend continues through the trip. Sorry, Colin - I know that you'd placed a request for a t-shirt or two, but Japanese sizes don't translate well (so to speak) to the larger North American physique.

- Sid

* Every now and then I need to remind myself that not everyone who reads these postings will be conversant with the specialized vocabulary of my interests - in other words, you may not speak Geek. Manga are Japanese comics, which are commonly published in more of a softcover format rather than the North American comic book layout. Anime refers to Japanese animation, which has always had a unique style and feel compared to Western animation. In terms of quality, anime compares to the Flintstones in the same fashion that the Mona Lisa relates to wallpaper.