Slavery entertaining in Japan

This was the first S.C.A.B. article. I had to update the link.


Japan tortures comedian for kicks, money Now
Human dignity reduced to a cup of rice

by Brendan, and Shaman

Here are the three things I know about Japan: they have super-fast trains, their schoolgirls dress like sailors, and they invented sushi, all of which argues a strong case for their cultural superiority. Plus they gengineered square watermelons, and that’s frigging beautiful. So it’s with more than a little regret that SCAB takes a look at the other side of Japan: the twisted side that enjoys things like juvenile tentacle rape porn.


I don’t know what they’re doing to poor Nasubi up there, but it clearly involves barbed wire (and possibly prophylactics). But here’s the story as it was told to me. Nasubi (which means “eggplant” and there’s no denying that’s a pretty good stage name) is a stand-up comic. He gets picked to be on a TV show, and without any explanation, is blindfolded and thrown into a one-room apartment. Then he’s made to strip, and locked in the apartment for the next year and a half. To survive, he has to enter as many contests as possible. And bear in mind there’s no food in the apartment, so even with overnight delivery and the best luck in the world, he’s not going to receive a lifetime supply of Rice-a-Roni for four or five days.

SHAMAN When Bravestarr was a young man, he wanted very badly to join a fraternity. They made him crawl for three miles across a field of razor blades, carrying an irate homunculus on his back, and every time he stopped for breath, he was beaten with a dead porcupine. This went on for six weeks, until at last, he was allowed to join the group. He soon learned that letting a bunch of alcoholic date-rapists mutilate you for the privilege of living with them is not as appealing as it sounds. Perhaps Nasubi will learn a similar lesson, but here is another: if getting on reality TV is a lofty accomplishment, why do so many redneck crackers manage to do so?

Rice is nice, but butter is better After two weeks of starvation, Nasubi won himself a jar of jelly, and another two weeks later, a bag of rice. Oh, and by the way, he was stuck there until he won 100,000 yen, which is absolutely meaningless to those of us who don’t know the exchange rate or the skewed cost of living in Japan. But you can bet it’ll be a while. The cost of jelly was 1560 yen, so at that rate, he’s naked and stuck in an apartment for two and a half years.

If I were Nasubi, I’d focus my contest-winning efforts on a good stash of food, then switch to expensive stuff like a car or an illegally-harvested whale. No — screw that, I’d focus on lockpicks and firearms, because I guarantee those will prove more fulfilling more than a bag of rice. And don’t forget, there’s nothing to cook in or eat with, except the same hands that must be used in lieu of toilet paper.

SHAMEMmm. I believe the great Marshall McLuhann once said “As good as white men are at causing human suffering, none of them ever produced a medium that justified it…only necessitated it.” Mmmm. What he meant by that, I’m not sure, but I have an idea it relates to my living in a burned-out crash site at the top of a mountain situated in a desert wasteland.

Holy cow. This has nothing to do with anything, but somebody just visited SCAB by looking up “swarthy italians and mexicans” on AOL and finding the Jango Fett article. Somehow we topped the racism search returns over the whole of human history, a couple of Bible pages, and every KKK site in existence, winding up second only to “Reefer Racism.” That brings SCAB’s total readership to me, 34,000 pert-nosed groupies, a Russian guy, an Australian guy, my parents and a racist. Well, two racists if you count me, but my only prejudice is that Australians and New Zealanders make excellent actors.

So that was how things went for most of Nasubi’s imprisonment, except for the time he ate dog food to survive. Nobody thought to protest this sort of thing, so the show simply became a Japanese phenomenon. And before you make fun, remember you come from a nation that has a collective orgasm every new TV season over “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”, “Survivor”, “The Weakest Link”, “American Idol”, “The Osbornes” and whatever the fuck you people are watching this month. Sure, our TV may not abuse people this badly yet, but let’s not pretend we’re any less a bunch of followers who watch whatever show spends the most money convincing us it’s good.

Mmmm. Perhaps in Japan, Eggplant is hardcore. But on New Texas, where absolutely nobody grows any food anyway, he is merely another clod-hopper. If I had rice, or a stove on which I could pretend to cook rice, or even a home at ground level, I could have Eggplant’s easy life. But as a shaman, I must maintain an austere environment to remain pure of heart. Mmmm. Gods, I would trade anything for a fresh, bloody steak right now.

That’s about the whole story. Nasubi won a whole bunch of stuff, and the show was wildly popular, and eventually he won his freedom, only his owners decided he was too good at contest winning so they shipped him around and made him do it a couple of more times. Oh, and they forgot his only foodsource during the move. But he survived. It takes more than freezing, starvation, cabin fever, humiliation and filthy living conditions to kill Eggplant.
So let’s focus on Japan for a minute. I’m too angry to talk about it. Shaman, you have inner peace. What’s your take?

SHAMUYou bastards. You utter bastards. Shame on you, Japan. When will you learn, pain is only funny when it happens to people we don’t like? Or, alternatively, people we do but resent because they kissed the girl we like in front of us at a cast party.

Right. Japan doesn’t get that, and they’re setting a bad example. Already Americans have game shows like Survivor, where a bunch of whiny bitches try to betray each other, or Temptation Island, where two people who are supposedly close screw around behind each other’s backs because he’s an asshole and she’s got no will to resist. And it’s getting worse. Now there’s Fear Factor, which ought to be renamed Suppressing the Gag because that’s the only way its contestants win any money. It’s not about courage. It’s about muscle control. We can only hope one titanic season of Dog Eat Dog amasses them into one giant fatality of an ill-considered stunt, like wrestling great white sharks in a wetsuit made of hamburger.