Kill Fascists Dead

I am on a bit of a high. I have been able to settle into my new digs, chill out and relax. Smell the autumn air coming from the North, walking around the city taking pic`s, meeting some great people;nice people. All in all, life is good. I had decided to go to an internet cafe that I frequent every so often in the Ochanomizu part of the city, to watch the Toronto FC game against Colorado. The station is about fifteen minutes train ride from Sendagaya, where I live. For those of you who know what it is that I am passionate about, one of those things is Japanese history. It is what I do, whether I get paid to do it or not - no matter. It is what I do. I was telling someone the other night at a party that you can understand so much from studying only one thing. It all relates to each other, in some way. You can learn everything you need to know about everything from only one. A concept that I have been trying to shape for a long time now. Anwyay, the portion of Japanese history that I have decided to focus my energies on is the rise, fall, and rise and fall or Japanese fascism. Many of these sheep still reside and live, like in Europe (but not quite the same) in Japan. You can find these men (and it is almost 100% men) barking around the city streets within Japan. Black trucks, chrysanthemum logo`s, speakers blaring old military songs of the dead. It was hot yesterday. Warmer than I would have liked it to be, as it is the middle of September. I walked out of Ochanomizu station and say a group of fascists over by the entrance.

There was the black truck with flags that I have never seen before. The naval flag of the rising sun, but in the center was the image of what looked like a cross between the swastika and the circular image of a taiko drum. What you would see on the main drum of a taiko drum team. It was unerving. I soon realized that the heat from the day wasn`t making me hot. I was pissed. Super pissed. I wanted to throw shit. To scream, to yell, tell them to fuck off. But something else stirred inside myself. It was the desire to learn. I had a nice camera and began to take pictures. Not too many, from near the fascists to across the street where I could take photos of different men. One man who wasn`t wearing black like the rest of them. He was simply in shorts and had a back pack, but he was important. One of the fascist lackeys took his picture and greeted him with some authority. I saw a student looking young man come up and buy a sticker. Pathetic and weasly, he made small talk with one of the soldiers. After taking my pictures I just stared at them. Giving them a glaring of a lifetime! Hahaha! What could I have done? Really? A couple noticed me, and I made sure that my tattoo`s were extremely visible. We made eye contact. But I don`t believe that they really gave a shit. I wasn`t important. But what was important were two things - that people simply walked by, maybe glancing; and that the police box was just across the street.

I took a picture of the police box, and the man who just happened to be selling a product near the fascists ducked behind his sign. I couldn`t blame him. I wouldn`t want to be seen near fascists either. I was really, really, really, really pissed off. My anger mingled with the heat. I had to talk myself down from the ledge, so to speak. They weren`t worth it. And if something did in fact happen, the cops would be on the side of the fascists. It`s how it is back in North America, and Europe. These men are the `crackpots,` the `weirdoes` who nobody wants to acknowledge exists in their community. That`s how a cancer spreads. When you do nothing about it. What struck me the most was the young student-type man buying stickers and other items. I wanted to talk to him, ask him...why? Why bother with men whose sole purpose is to bring back an Empire that like the Nazi`s was destined to collapse? To hate others, especially Koreans, and Chinese. To what end? Perhaps in Japan these fascists are a true minority. Maybe they are crackpots who should just be left to their own designs. It`s not the `90s anymore, right? But history has taught some of us at least, what these types of men are capable of. If we can somehow stop men like these from spewing their hateful rhetoric then we should. Tiny battles win great wars. Most of us don`t really care, and have other things to worry about, I know. But this is simply for your information guys. Stuff like this makes me stronger, makes me want to learn and study more, to beat them at their own listless arguments. It makes me proud of what I hope to do in the future, to teach others and not hide.