Never have I woken up and wished to be seated next to a man reading porn on a train. Evidently, and I'm learning this the hard way, not wishing for something specific has nothing to do with the universe and it's ... sense of humor? ...
As in, just because you don't want it doesn't mean you won't get it.
My seat mate is reading porn. A girlie magazine. There are photos. There are cartoon descriptions of kinkiness.
Porn in your bedroom? Fine.
Porn in public? On the train? Next to me? Not fine.
Do I say something?
What would I say?
"Is that interesting?"
"Do you have a hard-on?"
"How much does a magazine like this cost?"
"What's the attraction?" Scratch that. I'd have to add "other than the obvious" and dumb questions usually get dumb answers.
Do I get to say something?
Just because in my world it's in poor taste to look at naked women on a
crowded train does not mean it is in Japan. Whose morals rule in such a
case? Japan is not my country. He's Japanese, I'm a foreigner.
Japanese social norms trump my definition of public decency. Right?
Really?
What if I read it with him? Is that being passive-aggressive? If that were the case, would that be so bad?
What if I--oh, I'm so sorry--spill coffee on his magazine when I reach for the cup from the young food-selling woman? Is that kind of passive-aggressive behavior better? It's certainly less passive and more aggressive.
What if I break the rules and make a phone call in Japanese right here, right now? I'm supposed to go stand on the deck to take or make calls. Sorry. Dumb foreigner. I don't know the rules. Do I dare? Then again, if he knew I could read what he was reading would that change his mind? Would he care?
So far I have no answers. Perhaps by the time he gets through to the end I'll have thought up some witty and biting comment that may or may not make him think. I'm open for suggestions.
Showing posts with label porn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label porn. Show all posts
Monday, April 7, 2014
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Child Pornography in Japan
A funny thing, blogging. I know of a handful of people who read these posts, but the rest of you are completely unknown. I know how many in which country read any one post on any one day. I don't know you individually, and we'll likely never meet. All of this fascinates me.
As do the keywords you type in to search for the blogs you're wanting to read. The most heavily read blog post of mine is the one I wrote about pornography on the train. This entry has shown up when you've googled "porn in Japan" and "porn on trains" and "Japan and porn" and other such combinations. I take it a good number of you all around the world are interested in, fascinated by, and/or mortified by what Japan allows as art. You want to know about pornography in Japan? Let me tell you then. Today I will focus on child pornography, because herein lies Japan's most foul rationale about art versus porn. Today, here again, I simply can't make this shit up.
The laws are clear: In Japan, you can own child pornography. You can't make it, ship it, or sell it, but you can own it. Read that again. You can't make, sell, or distribute child pornography porn but you can own it. This begs the obvious question where does one buy it? It's not supposed to be sold. It can't be made so it can't be shipped so it can't be sold. Except that in one survey, 20% of Japanese state, at one point or another they've owned child pornography. Where do they buy it if it's not available? Really.
Part of the problem lies in Japan's definition of child pornography. Simply put, children participating in a sexual act is considered child pornography. Which means half-naked or naked images are not. Which also means anything that's a cartoon, manga, is not. I find this highly disturbing. It also, unfortunately, answers the question on where one would buy this. Any convenience store will have an "adult" section marked but visible and available to anyone who wants to stand there and read through the selection. It's not illegal to sell these magazines because they don't portray images defined as child pornography. Lolita on the cover? Not porn. It's not real. Presumably this is where a lot of people buy this "art." (I don't have enough sarcasm in me to express my disgust further.)
The "artists" who draw these images take this whole child pornography question to another level. They are adamant if it's in cartoon form, even rape, sodomy, forced oral sex, gang rape, torture, beatings of children--it's all "art." By their definition, this means it's not real so it's not pornography. If you've seen any such cartoon imagery, mark my words it will make you sick to your stomach--that kicked in the gut, bile in the back of your throat, "I'm about to puke" feeling--it lingers.
Say what you will about "two consenting adults" who allow themselves to be filmed. Naked women in magazines (gay sex is still very much a taboo here) do it because they want the money and, hey, they're smiling! Surely, all must be good. I don't and won't know the truth behind the Japanese sex industry. I don't want to. Bring kids into this and I'm out for blood.
Just so you know, last time I checked, you can bring Japanese child pornography into your country if you're Russian, but in most other countries possession of child pornography (even the "art" kind) is illegal. Careful what you buy at the airport and in town. This shit will get you arrested.
Then again, it should.
As do the keywords you type in to search for the blogs you're wanting to read. The most heavily read blog post of mine is the one I wrote about pornography on the train. This entry has shown up when you've googled "porn in Japan" and "porn on trains" and "Japan and porn" and other such combinations. I take it a good number of you all around the world are interested in, fascinated by, and/or mortified by what Japan allows as art. You want to know about pornography in Japan? Let me tell you then. Today I will focus on child pornography, because herein lies Japan's most foul rationale about art versus porn. Today, here again, I simply can't make this shit up.
The laws are clear: In Japan, you can own child pornography. You can't make it, ship it, or sell it, but you can own it. Read that again. You can't make, sell, or distribute child pornography porn but you can own it. This begs the obvious question where does one buy it? It's not supposed to be sold. It can't be made so it can't be shipped so it can't be sold. Except that in one survey, 20% of Japanese state, at one point or another they've owned child pornography. Where do they buy it if it's not available? Really.
Part of the problem lies in Japan's definition of child pornography. Simply put, children participating in a sexual act is considered child pornography. Which means half-naked or naked images are not. Which also means anything that's a cartoon, manga, is not. I find this highly disturbing. It also, unfortunately, answers the question on where one would buy this. Any convenience store will have an "adult" section marked but visible and available to anyone who wants to stand there and read through the selection. It's not illegal to sell these magazines because they don't portray images defined as child pornography. Lolita on the cover? Not porn. It's not real. Presumably this is where a lot of people buy this "art." (I don't have enough sarcasm in me to express my disgust further.)
The "artists" who draw these images take this whole child pornography question to another level. They are adamant if it's in cartoon form, even rape, sodomy, forced oral sex, gang rape, torture, beatings of children--it's all "art." By their definition, this means it's not real so it's not pornography. If you've seen any such cartoon imagery, mark my words it will make you sick to your stomach--that kicked in the gut, bile in the back of your throat, "I'm about to puke" feeling--it lingers.
Say what you will about "two consenting adults" who allow themselves to be filmed. Naked women in magazines (gay sex is still very much a taboo here) do it because they want the money and, hey, they're smiling! Surely, all must be good. I don't and won't know the truth behind the Japanese sex industry. I don't want to. Bring kids into this and I'm out for blood.
Just so you know, last time I checked, you can bring Japanese child pornography into your country if you're Russian, but in most other countries possession of child pornography (even the "art" kind) is illegal. Careful what you buy at the airport and in town. This shit will get you arrested.
Then again, it should.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Porn on the Train
I first heard about the Mayan calendar, the "December 21st is the last day for humankind" story on a camping trip to New Mexico years ago. Let's just say nature called out. I needed to reconnect. True I was burnt out; tired of airports, hotels, and living out of a suitcase. I camped with a group of women in the hills of New Mexico. This is most unlike me. I don't camp. It was one of those things in hindsight I can't explain. Nature has not called me to reconnect since, and I don't expect I'll commune with it even if it does. I'm simply not a nature girl. But, I digress.
It's December 21st in Tokyo, and while there are several hours left yet in the day, the world has not come crashing down around me. In fact, I had a most wonderful lunch and dinner. Coming away from it feeling tall and useful, happy and loved, I was convinced life is truly good and no way would the world come to an end today. On that note, who's December 21st are we to be looking at anyway? Whose clock officially kicks off this day? Are we to calculate this day using GMT, or on Mayan time? If the latter, December 21st starts around Pacific Standard Time in the US? That actually means December 21st is about 36 hours long for us here in Tokyo. This is too much math for me to contemplate.
I'm heading home on the subway after dinner, yawning because I haven't had enough tea today. I'm looking off into space, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Still happy from my meetings, I let myself dwell in this special moment.
I yawn again, and cover my mouth but a bit too late. Looking to see if anyone noticed I see the man sitting across from me staring. What? You've never seen a woman cover her mouth only half-way through a yawn? Sorry. Bad manners on my part. Our eyes have met. Here, he looks down to the magazine he has open in his lap. He looks up at me again. I look down at the magazine. It's porn. It's actually child pornography, but in anime, Japanese cartoons. The front cover facing me has a barely dressed preteen in an erotic pose. Well now. I look back up at him. He nods. Am I being challenged? I sit still. He nods again, this time to the empty seat next to him. Is he serious? He wants me to sit down next to him? I ponder this. Briefly. He nods again, gesturing down at the seat with his head.
I decide there is this vortex of confusion over the earth today, December 21st and all, and that our planet is trying to decide whether or not to stay alive. In this confusion, I'm thrown in front of a man reading child pornography on the train who evidently wants me to read it with him. I get up and sit down next to him. Be prepared, dear man. Bring it. You have no idea what you're getting into.
Sitting side by side, he looks at me and I look back at him. This is a fight. I can feel it. I'm determined not to lose, although I can't quite pinpoint what exactly "losing" would mean. He starts reading the magazine again. I join in. It's not reading as much as it is looking at the pictures.
Of girls being raped. Of girls giving blow jobs. Of girls. There's nothing about these drawings that would make anyone think these characters are anything but six-year olds. This is child pornography. This is smut. Possession of this child pornography in Japan is legal. He's not breaking any laws. Attempts by foreign governments to shame Japan into proposing legislation that would categorize even anime as child pornography have a). not succeeded, and b). been met with furious opposition from the "artists" who draw these scenes of torture and debauchery. "It's art," they say. Bite me.
We're both quiet. He flips pages and I follow along. The "stories" are short. He starts another and I see this one contains a dog. That's it. That's my limit.
I look at him. "You like this?"
He looks back. "Yeah."
I turn my ahead away from him and look straight ahead. People are watching us. I'm silent for a minute and then say, "Huh."
"You don't like it?"
I turn, then pause, and cock my head to the side. I'm giving him my best "you're-kidding-me" look, hoping he gets it. Straightening back up, I say, "No, I don't."
I'm not done. "I don't get why looking at this is fun. I think it's gross. This," and I point to the dog, "Really?"
"Yeah, the dog is a bit much."
"The dog is a bit much? The rest is okay?"
"Yeah. The rest is okay. It's not real."
Aaah. There it is. It's a cartoon so no one's getting hurt.
"You're foreign so you don't get it. This is okay in Japan," he says and I feel my eyes widening and I'm so close to punching him and I have to force myself to exhale.
"Well," and I take a deep breath because I'm now shaking, "in my country this is illegal." I pause for effect. "This is considered counter-culture, stupid, dirty, and the worst kind of perversion out there. You'd be arrested for reading this in my country."
"Good thing I'm in Japan then," he says.
"Yeah, only in Japan. The rest of the world thinks this is wrong. You guys are way behind the times in what's considered decent," I say and this is my cue. I get up. I've had enough.
I did not punch him. For this I'm proud of myself but only sort of. I got off the train three stations before mine. I needed air. I could feel my heart in my chest, beating furiously. I wasn't expecting to change his mind, lead him to an epiphany where he would see how morally and socially corrupt this whole "it's not real so it's okay" argument is. I equally did not see myself coming away feeling this deflated. I feel gross. My hands feel oily. I want to scrub myself clean.
It was a matter of time before this happened. Today it did, and it some how makes sense that it would on this particular day, but I know this argument will hold no water when I face a similar experience again in future and it's not a day the world is to come to an end. Deal with that then? I guess. It's frightening how wrong that answer is, and yet. And, yet.
It's December 21st in Tokyo, and while there are several hours left yet in the day, the world has not come crashing down around me. In fact, I had a most wonderful lunch and dinner. Coming away from it feeling tall and useful, happy and loved, I was convinced life is truly good and no way would the world come to an end today. On that note, who's December 21st are we to be looking at anyway? Whose clock officially kicks off this day? Are we to calculate this day using GMT, or on Mayan time? If the latter, December 21st starts around Pacific Standard Time in the US? That actually means December 21st is about 36 hours long for us here in Tokyo. This is too much math for me to contemplate.
I'm heading home on the subway after dinner, yawning because I haven't had enough tea today. I'm looking off into space, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Still happy from my meetings, I let myself dwell in this special moment.
I yawn again, and cover my mouth but a bit too late. Looking to see if anyone noticed I see the man sitting across from me staring. What? You've never seen a woman cover her mouth only half-way through a yawn? Sorry. Bad manners on my part. Our eyes have met. Here, he looks down to the magazine he has open in his lap. He looks up at me again. I look down at the magazine. It's porn. It's actually child pornography, but in anime, Japanese cartoons. The front cover facing me has a barely dressed preteen in an erotic pose. Well now. I look back up at him. He nods. Am I being challenged? I sit still. He nods again, this time to the empty seat next to him. Is he serious? He wants me to sit down next to him? I ponder this. Briefly. He nods again, gesturing down at the seat with his head.
I decide there is this vortex of confusion over the earth today, December 21st and all, and that our planet is trying to decide whether or not to stay alive. In this confusion, I'm thrown in front of a man reading child pornography on the train who evidently wants me to read it with him. I get up and sit down next to him. Be prepared, dear man. Bring it. You have no idea what you're getting into.
Sitting side by side, he looks at me and I look back at him. This is a fight. I can feel it. I'm determined not to lose, although I can't quite pinpoint what exactly "losing" would mean. He starts reading the magazine again. I join in. It's not reading as much as it is looking at the pictures.
Of girls being raped. Of girls giving blow jobs. Of girls. There's nothing about these drawings that would make anyone think these characters are anything but six-year olds. This is child pornography. This is smut. Possession of this child pornography in Japan is legal. He's not breaking any laws. Attempts by foreign governments to shame Japan into proposing legislation that would categorize even anime as child pornography have a). not succeeded, and b). been met with furious opposition from the "artists" who draw these scenes of torture and debauchery. "It's art," they say. Bite me.
We're both quiet. He flips pages and I follow along. The "stories" are short. He starts another and I see this one contains a dog. That's it. That's my limit.
I look at him. "You like this?"
He looks back. "Yeah."
I turn my ahead away from him and look straight ahead. People are watching us. I'm silent for a minute and then say, "Huh."
"You don't like it?"
I turn, then pause, and cock my head to the side. I'm giving him my best "you're-kidding-me" look, hoping he gets it. Straightening back up, I say, "No, I don't."
I'm not done. "I don't get why looking at this is fun. I think it's gross. This," and I point to the dog, "Really?"
"Yeah, the dog is a bit much."
"The dog is a bit much? The rest is okay?"
"Yeah. The rest is okay. It's not real."
Aaah. There it is. It's a cartoon so no one's getting hurt.
"You're foreign so you don't get it. This is okay in Japan," he says and I feel my eyes widening and I'm so close to punching him and I have to force myself to exhale.
"Well," and I take a deep breath because I'm now shaking, "in my country this is illegal." I pause for effect. "This is considered counter-culture, stupid, dirty, and the worst kind of perversion out there. You'd be arrested for reading this in my country."
"Good thing I'm in Japan then," he says.
"Yeah, only in Japan. The rest of the world thinks this is wrong. You guys are way behind the times in what's considered decent," I say and this is my cue. I get up. I've had enough.
I did not punch him. For this I'm proud of myself but only sort of. I got off the train three stations before mine. I needed air. I could feel my heart in my chest, beating furiously. I wasn't expecting to change his mind, lead him to an epiphany where he would see how morally and socially corrupt this whole "it's not real so it's okay" argument is. I equally did not see myself coming away feeling this deflated. I feel gross. My hands feel oily. I want to scrub myself clean.
It was a matter of time before this happened. Today it did, and it some how makes sense that it would on this particular day, but I know this argument will hold no water when I face a similar experience again in future and it's not a day the world is to come to an end. Deal with that then? I guess. It's frightening how wrong that answer is, and yet. And, yet.
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