The White Peril 白禍

Here we go. This is hardly the beginning--there's been news like it at regular intervals for years--but the Ministry of Health, Labour, and Welfare (note the British u in that fourth word--this is a class-act, civilized country, you know) bean crunchers and number counters have estimated that total health expenditures in 2025 will be more than double what they are now: 69 trillion yen (about US $630 billion). That includes out-of-pocket payments by users but, naturally, mostly consists of Social Insurance premiums and taxes. The most quickly increasing sector is geriatric care, of course; it's projected to be half the total by then.

When people ask me what the health care system is really like over here, I never quite know what to say. Care for minor stuff is great; so is care for catastrophic illness. I've had friends who had heart bypasses and treatments for cancer that were, to judge from the results, first-rate. No, it isn't the Nirvana a lot of collectivists in America think it is: care for things that are significant but not life-threatening is seriously hit-or-miss. You have to work hard to find a good dentist. It's common to tell a GP that you've already tried aspirin for your fever and still walk out of his office with powdered acetaminophen. Treatments are often drawn out into short segments given over weeks or months. Part of this is because the traditional Asian view of how to restore health involves slowly and naturally prodding the life processes back into normal alignment.

But part of it is also that more visits help maximize revenue from patients who don't have many other options. Despite the long average life span here, the lack of transparency in operations (and deemphasis on personal responsibility and initiative) that create drag on the Japanese domestic economy are bad for the health care system, too. This article is out-of-date, but it compiles several of the cases that got the most publicity in the first few years I lived here. Since then, you get similar stories regularly: a sociopathic nurse in Sendai killed his patients by giving them heavy doses of muscle relaxant. Even though the frequency with which his patients worsened was such that his colleagues called him "Nosedive Mori," and he was using unprescribed doses of muscle relaxant that were missing from inventory, he seems to have kept this up for years. And then there's the "thank-you money" that people routinely give their surgeons in addition to the set fee.

None of this is to be interpreted as meaning that people are lying or incorrect when they say that Japan has good health care. It's just that you can't point to Japan and say that having a national health care system improves things over private insurance by ensuring better control and an orientation toward service rather than profit. Everyone knows that as the population ages, caps on care will change; it will be unpleasantly interesting to see how the revised MHLW rules play out as they move through the medical system in real time and on real terms.

It's this sort of story that makes me glad I live in a country in which people will just say straight out that they believe Koreans are congenitally lazy and stupid and Chinese people are treacherous. You can then disagree, with reason and example, and actually get somewhere.

But where...how do you...is it even...WTF can you possibly say to this?

The city of Chicago will continue to set aside a portion of its construction contracts for firms owned by blacks, Hispanics and women -- but not Asian-Americans.

The revised ordinance, approved Wednesday night by the City Council, lists the groups that statistical evidence shows are socially disadvantaged.

Under the law, Asian-Americans can still apply for city work if they do so as individuals and document that they have been discriminated against.

The changes upset Asian-American leaders as well as some aldermen who said the city was opening itself up to a return to discriminatory practices.

The City of Chicago is "opening itself up to a return to discriminatory practices," by airily judging who's downtrodden enough to compete for clubby set-aside municipal contracts? Good Lord. Imagine what might happen if they pull out all the stops and start discriminating for real.

It gets better. There seem to have been warning signs from a few months ago on that Asian-Americans would be excluded. At least one affected party is clearly not one to let anything so trivial as self-respect get in the way of a good gravy train:

Nakachi is concerned that Asian business owners are being defined too narrowly. He noted one line in Moran's decision about the disparity of people eligible under the program: "A third-generation Japanese-American from a wealthy family, and with a graduate degree from MIT, qualifies."

"We have polled our membership and we can't find any MIT graduates," Nakachi said. "It's kind of a stereotype that all Asians are highly educated and highly successful."

I know that's what I look for in people in charge of public works projects: the conviction that they and their kind are as capable of being mediocre as anyone else is.

Okay, fine--he didn't say they were stupid or incompetent, only that their degrees might not have brand value and they might not have achieved prominent reputations. And I realize that I'm falling into the Gotcha! routine that Camille Paglia complained about in discussing blogs with Salon. (Well, she didn't elaborate, but I assume she was referring to the practice of linking to an article, quoting its dumbest paragraph, appending some snarky put-down, and signing off.) But I find few things more infuriating than encountering people who are frankly anti-aspirational.

I know that at least one of you has guns in the house. Do me a favor, please? If I ever, ever, ever put a time-honored metaphor through the wringer like this, shoot me dead?

"He planted the seeds of war. He harvested a whirlwind," Gore added. "And now the corrupt tree of a war waged on false premises has brought us the evil fruit of Americans torturing and sexually humiliating prisoners who are helpless in their care."

More about the very brief Japan-DPRK meeting last weekend (this may have been available from other news outlets earlier this week, but I tend to read the Nikkei thoroughly and half-pay attention to NHK on television while cooking, so this is the first I've seen it): Koizumi actually met with Charles Jenkins. Were the whole situation ("Hi! Your wife was kidnapped from her free, prosperous home country to teach its culture to spies in a bankrupt and eventually starving hell-hole of a dystopia, and now that she's finally home after two decades, she'd kind of like to have her children with her, so we'll do our damnedest to keep your country from prosecuting you as an Army deserter!") not so appalling, it would be like a spy thriller. And even as it is, it can be darkly amusing. The report is that, to underscore the message that Japan would "make its utmost efforts" to assure that the US doesn't push for extradition--meaning that Jenkins can live with his wife and daughters in Japan--a Foreign Ministry official with Koizumi wrote, "I guarantee it [私が保証する is the way the story renders it; paradoxically enough, that means I can't be sure what the English wording was]" on a slip of paper and passed it across the table. Make a great movie scene.

Jenkins has, of course, ultimately agreed to meet in Beijing. Beijing is friendly to the DPRK, so Japan initially indicated that it wouldn't accept a reunion between Jenkins and Soga there, but it's changed its mind and is now pushing in that direction. Soga expressed anxiety about meeting in Beijing and averred that there's no way in hell she's going back to North Korea (I should say not!). So we'll see who moves. I imagine the first meeting probably will, ultimately, be in China. This is an Asian mother with two unmarried daughters in their late teens and early 20's, so odds are she'll decide it's worth putting aside her concerns about traveling to a DPRK ally and do what needs to be done to get her family back together. My pruriently-curious side (is there any other?) wonders what the first night of pillow talk is going to be like in that reformed household.

Which of you wiseasses hid the receipt/claim check-thing I need to pick up my passport at the Embassy this Friday? This is not funny....

Paul Varnell's newest article at IGF notes something I was kind of wondering about, too: People are taking longer than I expected to freak the hell out over gay marriage in Massachusetts. Not that I'm relishing the prospect, or anything. I trust it's not surprising that, while I'm troubled by the methods that are being used to bring these changes about and not at all confident in the motives of some of their loudest proponents...well, seeing the pictures and reading the accounts from Massachusetts makes my heart leap. How could it not? My deepest hope (read: it's the Lagavulin talking) is that obsessive activists on our team will see this as a sign that, while we still face a lot of opposition, there's a real fund of goodwill out there that we don't have to get hysterical to tap into, and that anti-gay types will at least recognize something familiar and human in seeing people want to make the relationships that sustain them official. Then maybe (wait--there's a little Scotch left...not anymore!) we could start talking in terms of how we're going to treat behaviors as a society and not screeching past each other about what constitutes "approval" of this or that.

I was vaguely bemused, though, by this paragraph in Varnell's article:

And not just legally wed, but welcomed with religious marriage ceremonies by the venerable and influential Unitarian church, whose ministers almost to a man � and woman � have made themselves available to same-sex couples wishing a blessing in the religious tradition.

Oh, my. In the sense that today's Unitarianism evolved from challenges to the concept that God is a trinity, sure, it's...um...old. But I have to say, my first boyfriend took me to a service in Lower Manhattan ten years ago, and I just didn't get it. My idea of a religion is the church I was brought up in: two-hour services every week, during which you looked up every cited scripture and took notes, no work allowed on the Sabbath, and a kind, accessible Christ balanced by a God the Father whose attitude ran more toward, ARE YOU PEOPLE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME ALREADY OR DO I HAVE TO SMITE YOU WITH A BLEEDING CURSE?!

The idea at the Unitarian place--and I understand that it may have been somewhat extreme in this regard, but from what I've read of Unitarian beliefs it wasn't way, way on the fringes--seemed to be that you do whatever you felt like doing anyway, and God loves you for it. In fact, the atmosphere of strident, you're-special! good cheer was so irritating that by the time I left the building, I just wanted to go kick puppies. This is America, and people are, of course, fundamentally free to worship whatever God they choose. I also understand why gays who don't believe our lives are sinful don't have a whole lot of choices of denomination. I just can't help thinking that it doesn't profit us much to be leaning on a sect with (what appears to me to be--I'd love to be proven wrong) quite that degree of an I'm-okay-you're-okay approach to life.

Everyone seems to be bitching about the return of the cicadas this year; of course, in Japan, the cicada is a major topic of summer-themed traditional poetry, mostly using its voice to evoke solitude or its short life to evoke the 無常 (evanescence, contingency) of This World. Basho Matsuo, the greatest of the haiku poets, wrote several such verses, and one frequently sees them in translation. One of my favorites, though, is this affecting, if less-profound, example, which doesn't seem to make it into translation often:

いでや我よき布着たり蝉衣

Ide ya / Ware yoki nuno kitari / Semi koromo

Behold me! I wear
the finest garments--the robe
of the cicada

A sucky translation, but hey, it's the spur of the moment. I'm as drawn to the serious insights of traditional poetry as anyone, but I like the way the great writers such as Basho and Saigyo were able to find something enlightening about a relaxed, playful moment, too. The summer lightness of his simple, rough clothing makes Basho feel like a cicada with translucent wings. An image to savor now. Soon, most of Japan will be like the inside of a dumpling steamer; not even with the aid of air conditioning will the finest linen and cotton feel like anything but a soaked dishrag.

Added at some ungodly hour Monday morning: It occurs to me that, since two people who might be reading this are into sewing, the poem above might have more impact if I make it clear that I think the main way Basho is drawing an analogy between his clothing and the wings/shell of the cicada is through their common texture. The summer robe of a priest would have been made of unfaced, loosely-woven raw cotton or silk. The uneven slubs would have created a texture very much like the veined wings of the cicada, and the folds created by the way it draped might have suggested folded wings, too.

So Prime Minister Koizumi went to Pyongyang, where Kim Jong-il has said he was welcome, most welcome. The meeting apparently ended in less than two hours--perhaps there was a spontaneous city-wide banquet in Kim's honor that he had to rush off to--but there was plenty to talk about. There's that little matter of nuclear disarmament, for one thing (the DPRK has been known to file missiles over our heads in Japan--just testing, you know).

But the focal point was clearly the Japanese abductees. Five have returned to Japan; that leaves eight that the DPRK says are dead (I can't remember all the cover stories, they're so lame; one involved graves being washed away in a mudslide and therefore unrecoverable--things like that) and two that it claims never entered North Korea. So from the Japanese viewpoint, there are five abductees repatriated and ten missing, of whom the DPRK acknowledges eight. That's a total of fifteen, which I'm pretty sure is lower than the number of cabinet ministers and party officials currently implicated in the non-payment-of-pension-premiums scandal, but I could be wrong.

The Japanese are trying to get abductees' family members (mostly children) in North Korea to Japan, which is why there's such a fuss over US Army deserter Charles Jenkins, who defected to North Korea in the '60's and is married to abductee Hitomi Soga. The US has indicated that it may, in fact, expect him to be handed over for court martial if he accompanies his daughters to Japan to see their mother. All of this making nice with the DPRK makes me sick, but I guess diplomacy wouldn't be a delicate business if it always involved dealing with good people.

Added at 1 a.m.: Predictably, the families of abductees are stomping mad that Koizumi didn't push more for information about those unaccounted for. One's heart goes out to them--most of these people were snatched off Japanese soil in their teens or early twenties, remember. But I have a hard time imagining what good a hard-line stance would do in this kind of case. The DPRK is run by whim-driven nut cases, unfortunately. In the meantime, children from two families came from North Korea and were reunited with their repatriated parents near Haneda Airport. It's been a year and seven months since they've seen each other. One of the parents, Kaoru Hasuike (beautiful name, that: Kaoru means "fragrance," and Hasuike means "lotus pond"), said, "My daughter has become so lovely....and my son has grown tall." The last sentence in this article reports, "With that, he broke into the smile of a proud father." Good for them. Let's hope the rest of the endings are as happy as they can be.

I didn't know whether there'd be more to report about this: アルカイダ幹部が新潟に１年以上潜伏 (Key al Qaeda Member Hid Undetected in Niigata for Over a Year), but it looks as if for now, that's about what they know. He's Algerian-French and named Lionel du Mont; he was in Niigata from the end of 2002 through 2003 with his German wife. He went in and out three times (at least once on a false passport); he had a tourist visa, so he probably wanted to avoid crossing paths with the law by overstaying. His business was used cars, but it looks as if they suspect him of moving equipment and funding for al Qaeda.

I can't imagine how the government is all that surprised. Yes, the man was wanted, apparently, in connection with an attempted bombing at the G7 Summit in Lyons in 1996 (that's background in the article, not my encyclopedic knowledge of current events talking). InterPol was looking for him. But still, his passport was French, and people pass through Japan's international airports from Europe and Malaysia in droves every day. It looks as if they think he was helping to establish part of the network here. Lovely. He was apparently arrested in Germany at the end of last year, so I hope they're getting some information out of him.

I forgot to say anything about this a week ago, but this month is the 25th anniversary of the release of one of my all-time favorite albums:

Bad Girls by Donna Summer

Yeah, I know--I'm just a regular old annihilator of stereotypes, huh? Well, before you get too smirky and derisive, just remember that the last few weeks have seen a movie in which Brad Pitt stars as Achilles in an adaptation from Homer become a giant box-office hit in America, so how about having the Standards discussion with a neighbor on your own side of the Pacific, huh? Anyway, I'm not going to get all soi-disant rock critic here, but I will say I adore Bad Girls from beginning to end (yes, including Side 3) and hope that Summer, despite being a born-again Christian, recognizes it as a real accomplishment herself.

So just how badly off are all those welfare states in which wage-earning citizens sacrifice their crass individual goals for the good and harmony of the collective? You'll have to find out about Sweden from someone else; the situation here in Japan is enough to make anyone my age (32) consider keeping his nest egg as a shoebox full of gold nuggets. It's not enough that the population is aging. It's not enough that money paid into the Social Insurancephalopod is mismanaged. (At least it isn't diverted into a thinly-disguised government slush fund, the way savings accounts through the Postal Service are. Actually, come to think of it, maybe it is. I'm probably better off not knowing). We also have pervasive non-payment of premiums (link to Japanese article as usual--sorry if you're not Amritas).

Those of us who work for corporations have the money taken directly out of our wages (like FICA), but the self-employed and students of at least twenty years old have to pay in themselves. Now, of course, most people do work for corporations, so in the grand scheme of things, the amount of money that's being lost is not as great as the "Non-payment of Social Insurance Pension Premiums Still Near Worst-Ever Level of 37%" headlines make it sound. Even so, I agree with the media that it's an indication of how little people have come to trust the pension system, for all the hot air about reform.

Are you nice enough to the Asian-Americans in your life? Really? Reallyreally? If not, you still have a week or two to straighten out:

May is Asian Pacific American (APA) Heritage Month�a celebration of Asians and Pacific Islanders in the United States. Much like Black History and Women's History celebrations, APA Heritage Month originated in a congressional bill.

There's a whole lesson on the state of the US government in those two sentences. The site I've linked to is the children's encyclopedia infoplease, and on the basis of the prominent links to information about Japanese internment camps, Chinese Exclusion, and a biography of Liliuokalani on the front page, I feared it might be the usual poison PC dim sum cart serving up nature-loving yellow people beset by mean white people. Actually, it isn't that bad. If you take the quiz, it mentions the Pathet Lao and Khmer Rouge. Sure, most of the information is about coolie labor and worker discrimination and Maxine Hong Kingston, but these days, anyone who recognizes that Asians are sometimes nasty to each other seems like a fearless truth-teller.

What most annoys me about every page I clicked through to is the unrelieved smile-button dullness of the information. How is it possible to make the largest continent and ocean on Earth, which house India, China, Japan, Thailand, the islands of Polynesia, and many other fascinating cultures and climes, seem so unstimulating? A children's website isn't the place for, say, the comfort women controversy, obviously, but still.

The pages on national cuisines are so content-free I could have written them on the toilet, and I'm no expert, believe me. Surely it's possible to explore, for example, the different things people consider delicacies, without necessarily making an entire people seem weird and gross. The Japanese love sea urchin and--in some regions--horse meat (I have a box of it in my refrigerator as a souvenir from Atsushi's new city). The influx of country people into Bangkok has made the raising of all manner of caterpillars and beetles for snack stands into a hugely profitable industry. And so on. American children's initial reactions would probably be negative, if not downright contemptuous, but is it really impossible to suggest, in simple but meaningful terms, that the major difference in which animals are considered edible is how we're brought up to think of them?

Anyway, hug an Asian-American; there's a history of pain behind those enviable math scores, you know.

Andrew Sullivan has a new piece out on gay marriage, headlined Integration Day in The New York Times (registration required, as if you needed to be told). Sullivan's writing meant a lot to me when I was coming out in the mid-'90's and most gay writers were in the vein of, like, Michelangelo Signorile. But Girlfriend is really starting to annoy me something fierce.

Get a load (heh-heh) of this:

I remember the moment I figured out I was gay. Right then, I realized starkly what it meant: there would never be a time when my own family would get together to celebrate a new, future family. I would never have a relationship as valid as my parents' or my brother's or my sister's. It's hard to describe what this realization does to a young psyche, but it is profound. At that moment, the emotional segregation starts, and all that goes with it: the low self-esteem, the notion of sex as always alien to a stable relationship, the pain of having to choose between the family you were born into and the love you feel.

One wants to just whisper in his ear that when Margaret Cho said the best reason for gay marriage was that it was inhumane to deny a gay man a bridal registry, it was a joke. But, fine...what he's saying isn't that superficial. It's still, despite his unremitting complaisance as a writer and public personality, offensive.

I like having people's respect and approval. Resilient as my ego is, my nerves are not sheathed in titanium, and having my friends and loves and the life we cherish referred to as perversion all over the place gets me down sometimes. But either you claim control over your own life and mean it, or you slaver for people's approval and give them the ability to define your worth. No fair congratulating yourself about being willing to take an unpopular stand out of moral conviction and then informing people that they will love you for it. That maneuver makes me as nauseated as...as...John Derbyshire in a roomful of Muscle Marys.

Just to be clear: I'm not downplaying the hardships of being gay, and I give guys and gals who are just coming out quite a bit of leeway in finding their way at first. I have a more privileged life than a lot of people, but coming out was deeply painful. I didn't think I would make it through; I don't consider it whiny for anyone at that stage to be having difficulties getting it together and needing a lot of accommodation from supportive people. If I thought there were a policy proposal that would magically make that hurt unnecessary for future gay men and women, I'd be agitating for it in a second. Also, no one is going to stop me from being a thoroughgoing homo: being in love with a man, feeling that thrill when a cute guy comes into my field of vision, hanging out and being queeny with friends, and (what have I missed?...oh, yeah) mind-altering screwing. I know my own mind, and that's where it's at. I wish that didn't present an obstacle in getting along with some people, but reality is, it does. Though I'm grateful that people cut me lots of slack when I needed them to, now that I've righted myself and become a sovereign adult, I deal.

All of this blather about how our need for marriage is connected with [yaks all over freshly-cleaned floor] self-esteem and not making us feel so alienated just reinforces the charge that our real problem is arrested development. To the extent that psychologists can even determine whether self-esteem is a useful concept, my understanding is that their idea of where it comes from is pretty old-fashioned. Encouragement from others is part of it, but most of it is meeting and overcoming obstacles, fulfilling one's obligations, and paying one's debts. For that reason--much as it galls, galls, galls me that hetero convicted felons, multiple divorcés, and deadbeat dads are free to indulge in messed-up marriages without interference, while we're told that we're going to spell doom for the concept of the family--I don't trust our own high-profile crew of dissolute, flim-flamming party animals with marriage any more than Rick Santorum does.

Most of us are not that caricature, including, I presume, Sullivan and the like-minded Jonathan Rauch, whose book Gay Marriage I eagerly pre-ordered and ended up being disappointed by. Like Sullivan's latest article, Rauch's book leans heavily on the idea that marriage brings community pressure to be good, which helps keep married couples stable and benefits everyone. Rauch does raise the question of whether this will apply to gay marriages if a lot of people regard them as counterfeit, but as far as I can tell, he doesn't really address it.

If we're going to be using marriage as a cure for the low self-esteem and alienation of "emotional segregation," though, the answer matters. And the answer is: Those who wish us well and want our relationships to sustain us and bind us to the community are already treating us that way; people who see our relationships as illegitimate will keep doing so no matter who has a license for what. That means that even if gay marriage becomes a long-term fact, we're initially going to have to be strong for each other, through our formal and informal institutions, every bit as much as we are right now. It may never be the case that everyone is brought around to our side, but to the extent that it happens, it will happen because people can see gays taking charge of our own lives and not bleating, two decades into adulthood, about feeling left out.

I could also say something about DC-based political journalists who, while they may favor small government, still have the irksome habit of seeing the role of what the government does do as the conferring of legitimacy and Making things Real, rather than serving as a vehicle for the will and collected resources of citizens, but I'm too tired to get into that just now.

Added on lunchbreak, 19 May: Brian Tiemann has a bit more temperate response to Sullivan, raising some of the same points (and including a penis pun) but giving them more context.

The human soul craves ritual; one of the things I'm doing to keep the sense that Atsushi's around the apartment is keeping the vase I bought him for his birthday a few years ago filled. I like lushness and riotous color and things, but I can't decide whether as a general practice, it's better in this part of the room to go with Attention-Getting:



or Steadfast and Unassuming:



The lighting isn't so hot in either shot (that inept photography thing again), but if anyone wants to weigh in, I'm open to thoughts from a more experienced flower arranger. My taste in the past tended more to houseplants and potted herbs.

I wonder whether I'm missing something. In today's edition, the Nikkei stories about the continuing sad Japan-DPRK struggle over the eight Japanese citizens kidnapped to North Korea in the 1970's quote a prominent Japanese politician:

On 16 May, Shozo Abe, head of the Liberal Democratic Party of Japan (LDP), spoke on a Fuji Television program about the expected focus during Prime Minister Koizumi's next visit to the DPRK on a former member of the US armed forces, named Jenkins, who is the husband of abductee Hitomi Soga. Abe indicated that Jenkins must be brought to Japan even if against his will.

Abe said, "Had the DPRK been a country that placed any importance on the will of the individual, the issue of abductions wouldn't have arisen in the first place. It is in frank talks between the two countries, not according to Jenkins's will, that this must be decided, and we must get him to come to Japan and bring his and Ms. Soga's daughters."

I've read this about twelve times, and while I'm not a native speaker of Japanese, I'm pretty certain that's what it says. (Jenkins is a deserter--Army, I think--who's lived in North Korea since the mid-'60's. The issue that has been raised is that he's afraid of being arrested if he visits US-ally Japan; whether he really wants to stay in the DPRK has not been clear in anything I've read. In fact, I think that his refusal to come to Japan is still hypothetical at this stage.) Granted that being forcibly brought to Japan is not like being forcibly brought to the DPRK, in any sane person's evaluation...and also that the two girls have a lot more adulthood left than their father and might want to spend it here...the reasoning that Jenkins has lived under a dictatorship for almost 40 years, so we may as well dictate to him some more from a different country, makes my head spin. I could almost see it coming from one of Japan's unelected, society-manipulating ministry officials; but this guy's the head of a party that actually participates in the part of the Japanese political system that's responsible to voters. I certainly hope there's an angle to the story that I've just missed in my newsgathering.

All right, then. If both Nathan and Susanna are going to link John Derbyshire's latest commentary on homosexuality and just kind of vaguely say that they don't agree with everything in it without specifying what, I guess it falls to me to point out its weak points. I do so hate having to rouse myself from my normal state of serene benevolence toward the world around in order to be crabby and contrarian. The things I do in pursuit of truth.


The excerpt that Susanna quotes (which Derbyshire himself cited from someone else) is the part I have the biggest problem with. Line-by-line, it's perfectly accurate; what it lacks is context. It exemplifies an annoying tendency the hard right often exhibits when the talk turns to social policy: When it wants to make America sound like a sick society that has forgotten religion and individual integrity, it rolls leftist feminist, ethnic, and gay activism together into one big nasty juggernaut produced by broad-based cultural changes in the '60's and '70's. When it wants to make homosexuals seem manipulative and fundamentally anti-society in our thinking, it slices out gay liberation as a cultural development and gay activism as an industry and presents them in isolation. I doubt that this is done out of conscious craftiness, you understand, but it does give a distorted picture. Gay activists, tiresome (and frequently downright destructive to their own people's interests) as they undoubtedly are, did not invent the idea that citizenship consists of goodies and entitlements, that the way to redress previous wrongs is through quotas and brainwashing and diversity retreats and cutesy bureaucratizing and funding grants. Strip that stuff away, and 90% of contemporary American public life disappears--gay, straight, bi, or other. I do agree--and have said before--that the problems such an approach to civic participation presents for gays are different and probably worse than they are for women and ethnic minorities. I'm not big on the idea that we need "role models" who are exactly like us in order to set and achieve goals for ourselves. And yet...if you're gay and come out in late adolescence/early adulthood, sexual awakening tends to come down on you like a ton of bricks. Straight teenagers find sexuality confusing and frightening, too--I know that--but I think that most of them have a chance to sort of ease into it at the same pace as their bodies are developing. They see their desires for love and companionship and sex mirrored in the way their parents and community elders live. Being gay means learning to navigate those things, in many cases, from square one. It's hard but nowhere near impossible to do responsibly. However, when that initial stage of big-time identity shift hits the spoiled leftovers of '60's anti-establishmentism, the results are not pretty. But I don't think they're intrinsic to homosexuality, either, which (intended or not) is the way the Johnson quote, with its unleashed-monster metaphor, makes them sound. For all the talk about the return to traditional values in America, after all, the divorce rate is still vertiginously high, the rate of births to single mothers has declined but is not exactly negligible, and you still encounter plenty of rude and uncivilized people. That doesn't mean that the recapturing of wisdom that was thrown away in the last few generations is a figment of the imagination. It just means that lasting change requires time to take root; the important thing to focus on is which direction things are heading. Despite the many troubled aspects of gay life, I think we're steadily getting our act together. And I feel compelled to point out that there are plenty of straight people who are in on the act. When I was coming out, none of my ten or so close friends was gay. The man with whom I had a halting relationship--I was a selfish, cocky, immature little bitch to him and still regret it, BTW--made arguments in favor of accepting my sexuality that I didn't really find convincing. The support and encouragement that I responded to came from straight friends who didn't want to see me go through the rest of my life trying to drink away what was obviously a fundamental part of myself. Some of them have exactly the same instinctive revulsion toward homosexuality that Derbyshire describes, and it doesn't bother me. I don't bait them, and they don't make an issue of it. Pointed but good-natured humor is a big help, in my experience, and the enforced humorlessness of so much of the leftist program has, as Derbyshire implies, done nothing but dam up feelings and leave them to fester. I would just add that, in a free society, both gays and straights have to be equally prepared to be dished at when humor is necessary to dissipate tension and make civilized interaction possible. Along those lines, while this issue was only taken up by implication in Derbyshire's article, it seems apposite here: this debate, like that over the role of women in society, that over parental autonomy in child-rearing, and that over cultural assimilation for immigrants, will continue to be contentious--it's a debate, see?--and sometimes acrimonious. If we want to deal with these things honestly, we all have to be prepared to have our egos bruised and our cherished ideas exploded sometimes. That means that when conservatives say that they believe homosexuality should be decriminalized but still think it's immoral behavior, gays have to quit wringing their every word for evidence that they "really" hate us and want us all lined up and shot. It also means that conservatives have to stop picking over the lives of gays who say they're happy for evidence of the slightest misgiving or strain of melancholy to prove that we "really" aren't. There are quite enough genuinely theocratic religious types and drug-addicted, financially insolvent homos running around, but it's unworthy of free people who have given their own life choices due moral consideration to have to comfort themselves with the belief that no one could ever possibly be happy (at least in the Earthly sense) living any other way. The Internet, for all its virtues, tends to aggravate that particular problem. It is way, way too easy to read someone's one-paragraph comment, or even ten-paragraph post, and assume that it holds the key to the writer's entire way of thinking. But while posts emerge clean and self-contained, they originate in real life, where bad traffic, a botched account at work, an old injury that's acting up, or an irritated exchange with the spouse can influence how one treats a topic as seemingly unrelated as whether Will & Grace should be on the air. The way to find out whether you're interpreting someone correctly is to ask and see whether he explains it satisfactorily or, on the other hand, digs himself in deeper. The only things you have to lose are your assumptions. (Anyone who wants to point out that I don't always take my own advice here is welcome to do so; we don't jettison our ideals for the silly reason that we can't always live up to them.) Added at 16:10: I noticed when going back to Susanna's page that Myria, who writes the It Can't Rain All the Time (presumably named after the wonderful Jane Siberry's wonderful song from the soundtrack to The Crow) weblog had also tracked-back with an interesting response. I've always liked her posts, though I don't read her regularly. Good thoughts on this one, and a color scheme to die for, darling.

After 9-11, then after the Bali bombing, then after the Madrid bombing, I've thought, like everyone else, about what would happen if I were blown up or taken hostage. I can't say that I might not panic in the end, of course, and obviously I lead a good life and don't want it cut short. But I've been free to seek my own definition of happiness, I've had plenty of all-American joy, I keep up with my responsibilities. I figure that if my last minutes or days are painful, it doesn't alter the three decades, courtesy of the American way of life, that led up to them. I hope Nicholas Berg, with his start-up business and nice family in West Chester, had a chance to think those thoughts.

There's been a lot of fuss about Loretta Lynn's new album--by all accounts fantastic, and I can't wait to hear it. But nearly no one seems to be reporting the really important item: she doesn't actually cook with butter-flavored Crisco.

I have today off, so I went out last night and flirted shamelessly while getting schnockered enough to be hung over this morning. Mark you, there was nothing self-indulgent about this: I was preparing for a round of bureaucratic errands (reregister domicile in new ward of city, reregister name seal in new ward of city, renew passport at embassy, change address at banks and credit card offices) that began at 9 a.m. sharp. The hangover was necessary to dull my irritation at the inevitable snags that come up in a full day of filling out forms at government agencies. The shameless flirting was necessary to practice the people skills you need to deal smoothly with functionaries. The woman behind the passport counter did not, it is true, lean in and ask, "So, dude, is the rest of you as hairy as those forearms you've got there?" But let me tell you, I'd've been ready to answer with aplomb if she had.

Speaking of functionaries: as much as anyone else, I go in for orgies of complaining about them when they're surly or clueless. But I have to say that everyone I dealt with at the embassy today was just great. The man at the next window had what sounded like a legitimate gripe about the way his passport renewal was being processed. He made his displeasure clear, but he was polite about it and didn't blame the guy behind the counter. The guy behind the counter, for his part, apologized profusely and made sure the poor man knew exactly what needed to happen for his passport to be done as quickly as possible. There's a lot that I value about Japanese politeness; as long as you act like a civilized person, you don't really have to mean it, and that understanding can make difficult situations much easier. You deal with what people say and do and don't get worked up over what you assume they're thinking. But as an American, I have to say that it's a beautiful thing to see forthright goodwill in trying circumstances. It made the rest of the day much easier to deal with--how many times can you write your address in six hours before cracking, after all?--even after the hangover wore off.

It's weird. I understand there's no more important news to talk about right now than Torture Is Bad and Friends Just Went off the Air, but you'd think CNN or someone would be mentioning, at least, the fact that Yasuo Fukuda (the Chief Secretary of the Japanese cabinet) and Naoto Kan (the very attractive head of the Democratic Party of Japan) are resigning amid scandal: they didn't pay into the National Insurance pyramid pension scheme for stretches of time. Kickbacks, gladhanding, and revolving-door retirement are so woven into the fabric of Japanese government that maybe no one much notices something so restrained as a simple failure to pay a few months of bills.

But Fukuda was a very articulate spokesman for the Koizumi government's support of the US in the War on Terrorism, and there is, after all, an election coming up. That's the potentially serious part, though how it will play out is not apparent. The joke of the matter is that Kan's ten months of non-payment occurred while he was the Minister of Health and Welfare (back when that's what the ministry was). I have no doubt that, given his position, the gentleman was ideally placed to decide whether paying the premiums was a sound move in terms of his personal finances. But it does rather hilariously highlight the frequent gaps between the self-abnegating civil servant image that Japan-groupie social scientists get quivery over and the avoidance of personal accountability that goes on in reality. No, really, it's funny. You can start laughing any time.

One of the best parts of being gay, as I experience it, is that you have the rich emotional responses of a woman and the insulating obtuseness and detachment of a man. One of the worst parts is that you can't always choose which is ascendant at a given moment.

I didn't actually make a spectacle of myself when I took Atsushi to the airport yesterday; I just kind of felt as if I'd had the wind knocked out of me. Since I had to get back to the office, I couldn't wait until his plane took off. I had to content myself with leaving the observation deck before his flight was scheduled to leave the gate. Haneda Airport, which handles most domestic flights in and out of Tokyo, is actually in the same galaxy as the city (unlike Narita, the airport where most international flights go, which is way the hell out in Chiba Prefecture). It was just turning to night from dusk. You could see part of the incomprehensibly vast lit-up Tokyo skyline across the bay, and under it in the foreground, the planes docked at the departure gates. Two of my favorite sights in civilization (rendered with my appalling, amateurish digi-cam skills in the banner). The rain had stopped, but there was a lot of mist. It flattered both the lights and the JAL and ANA planes (which look a bit cheap to me in strong sunlight). Jets drifted down like big moths and shot into the sky like spears.

This was one of those vacation weeks that are busier than going to the office. The only meals we didn't have at restaurants with friends who wanted to find out how Atsushi is doing in West Buttf**k, we had here with friends who wanted to see what the apartment looks like now. ("Like there's finally a fag living here" was the verdict. I'm not sure how I feel about that.) Too much food, too much drink, and endless assurances that everyone's looking after me while he's working in the provinces. I wished I didn't have to leave him at the airport, but we'd been surrounded by people so persistently since Sunday that a part of me was relieved to head home to the apartment and not have anyone to look after except the plants. Just another month and we'll be leaving for Bali together. Not that long to wait.

My favorite fellow Asia-Pacific Island-based blogger, Amritas, responded to one of Joanne Jacobs's frequent commenters, one Stephen, who characteristically took the opportunity to use this thread about race relations at UCLA to talk about how wonderful his wife's traditional Asian femininity makes their domestic life. Joanne has already done her usual, wonderfully motherly throwing of cold water, and Amritas is great as always when he gets fired up.

And yet...Stephen's comments (he shows up a lot) always frustrate me because there's usually a very good point buried beneath the self-directed ego stroking: that gay promiscuity in urban areas has been very destructive and that lots of people who reject traditional femininity in a jeering way are insecure about their own life choices seem to be the major ones.

A point that no one in this conversation seems to make is that in a free society, traditional femininity requires both parties to be willing to hold up their ends of the bargain. Since I don't know the gentleman personally, I can only assume that his wife, like most American women, would quickly make her latent female power overt if he started treating her poorly--no matter to what degree she identifies with flowers. That's not always an option women have in countries in which sex roles haven't been liberalized as they have in America. Japan is politically one of the most free countries on Earth. (We just celebrated its Constitution Day yesterday, and while it's mostly treated as just a bank holiday, I found it very moving, as a proud American partial to constitutions.) But the status of women here, while it certainly facilitates "femininity," can be appalling. The median age for marriage has been pushed up to near 30 in the last 20 years. It's not just that women want to spend their free time shopping instead of taking care of children; they don't want to be forced to look after men whose idea of a "helpmeet" is a combination of maid and brood mare.

All of which means that if it adds frisson to a middle-aged couple's relationship to imagine a ring of vaginismus-afflicted harpies detesting them for their delight in tradition...well, good for them. But it'd be nice if students at a major research university, who are supposed to be in the process of forming their view of the world, could talk about their differences and assess why and in which contexts some attitudes work better than others.

BTW, the name I officially use in Japan is a transliteration of Sean:

紫苑 (shion)

It means "aster."

Japanese women's names sometimes do use flower kanji, but only occasionally does one see a name with a stem pronounced Yuri- ("lily") or Hana- ("blossom") or Fuji- ("wisteria"). Japanese women's names can have any number of kanji, but many pronunciations cluster around a handful of meanings: Mari- ("truth"), Nori- ("law," "order," "constancy"), and Aki- ("light," "clarity"). None of these seems to make their bearers more stern and sententious than those named after flowers or jewels.

The news programs keep talking about a Janis Karpinski who's a high muckety-muck in supervision of prisons in Iraq. The first time I heard her name, it rang a bell, and I wondered whether she was the woman Geraldine Brooks profiled as having trained the women in the Kuwaiti armed forces during the Gulf War. (Don't ask me why I remembered the name--there's a rational reason that's too personal to recount here.) I can't find a link that confirms that they are the same person, but there can't be that many Brigadier General Janis Karpinskis with a decade or so of service in the Gulf.

Added 05/04 13:25: Sheesh. You'd never know from this pixellated rag that I get paid, in part, for clear prose. Geraldine Brooks's book has a chapter on the training of Kuwaiti women in the armed forces, in which Janis Karpinski is quoted several times; the book overall is about the lives of women in Muslim countries, not Karpinski.