Tosh Berman's Blog, page 170

February 17, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

February 17, 2017
People call me Speed Racer here.  Not for the wheels I have, or my wide dark eyes, but due that I think fast on my feet.  I consider myself a very literate gentleman, yet, I can't read a thing in Japan.  In America, I'm all about words, but here in Japan, it's all visual to me.   I feel disconnected from my language and world, which is a splendid thing.  I'm forced to use another side of my brain here.  The funny thing is I speak Japanese to the people behind the coffee counter without realizing it.  When you need to communicate something or show desire, language is not a problem.   


I have nothing to read here except my writing, which to be honest, is boring.   I went to Kinokyuna in Shinjuku and looking around the store; I found an interesting writer by the name of Yoshiyuki Junnosuke.  It seems Yukio Mishima liked him, and Donald Richie, who is a great expert on 20th century Japanese culture, wrote the introduction to his collection of short stories.  I have a great fondness for Showa era writers in Japan, which is another way of saying the 20th century.  Each decade or longer is always tied to the current Emperor.  It's kind of like we're in the Trump era now in the United States.   The year 2017 will always be confined by the presence of Trump in people's minds.   As for me, I'm a tad hurt that Steve (Bannon) never got back to me on the Trump statue project.  Whatever.  I will get over it.  Reading the first story in this book by Junnosuke is not bad.  Life will go on.


I'm still fighting jet lag, and my only conclusion is to go out of the house as much as possible.  The brisk cold air hitting my face makes me feel alive.  The dark cloud that follows me around is always two feet away from me.  I run fast, but it always catches up.  I'm very much a long distance runner.  I'll beat it.   Back to the book now. 

February 16, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

February 16, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

The lack of sleep makes Tokyo into a city of your mind.  To this day, I'm not sure if it actually exists.   With little sleep, I met two American friends who are visiting the dream capital of desire.  There is something superb about facing the cold air, when utterly exhausted.  The good thing is my fellow countryman are feeling the same thing.   There is a bar next to their businessmen's hotel that has an extensive vinyl selection as well as free drinks.  Why the drinks are free is a question that is not examined too thoroughly.   All three of us are heavily into vinyl.   The other two have never been to Tokyo before, so it was my responsibility to take them to the right spot.



Our first stop was RecoFan.  It's very similar to Amoeba Music in Hollywood in many ways, but smaller in size.  Still, it takes up the entire fourth floor of the building.  Austin is into punk and Ray is into hip-hop and jazz.  I like instrumental bands from the 1960s and have been looking for "The Shadows In Tokyo" LP for the last five or so years.  The thing is, when you expect to find something, you're not going to find it. But when the unexpected happens that is the 'gotcha" moment.  The Enka selection at RecoFan is pretty impressive.  For those who don't know, Enka is a post-war form of music that is very much like a version of Japanese blues but with beautiful orchestration and voice.   There is also at times, a killer electric guitar solo that appears out of nowhere.  It sounds like the guitar is crying.  That type of music hits the spot when you're dead tired, and all you are feeling is emotion.



I couldn't find shit for me, but my fellow companions found stuff that made their eyes pop out of their skulls.  Me, I'm more of the cool type. I try not to show emotion while shopping.   We then went down the block to the Disk Union.   This is a record store in Shibuya (also a few stores in Shinjuku) where each floor caters to the specific type of music.  Again, I wanted the Sixties vinyl, and that is on the third floor, and Ray wanted hip-hop which is in the fourth, and Austin for his punk taste is the fifth.  The basement is jazz, and we decided to meet there in one hour.   "The Shadows in Tokyo" is a very tough LP to find, and lady luck was not smiling down at me.   Meanwhile, Austin came to the basement with five or six 7" singles of various punk bands from his neighborhood back home, and I couldn't see Ray's face due to the various packages he was holding.



At this moment all three of us were confronted with a spiritual feeling of loss and abandonment.   Apparently, we needed to take the Ginza line to Asakusa to the Sensō-ji to renew our faith in chance.  Sensō-ji is Japan's oldest Buddhist temple, and the peaceful aspect is the marketplace leading up to the temple's steps.   This is also the location to get postcards to send back home, as well as various swords.  Since the others had two or three bags of vinyl, it was my responsibility to hold on to the swords.  I put one down my pants, which of course, I have to be very comfortable not to trip, and I carried the other two with both hands.   It's very difficult to walk down the marketplace with the swords because the physical space is very tight due to the large crowd that takes place here.   I did find one postcard here, that had a very nice colorful image of the temple surrounded by cherry blossom trees.  I addressed the card to Stephen Bannon in the care of the White House, Washington DC, telling him "wish you were here."



The three of us ended up in a beer hall, that has been in business since 1926.   All the waiters here are in their 90s, which gives it an old school charm.  As we drank beer, and eat sashimi, we still feel that time is not on our side.  I feel that once I close my eyes, and then reopen them, everything will be gone like it didn't exist.  That is the beauty of Japan.

February 15, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan

Photograph by Tosh BermanFebruary 15, 2017
The only time I can catch up on some serious cinema is when I fly from Los Angeles to Tokyo.  Singapore Airlines without a doubt has the best film programming.  For instance, I can make a choice between the Tom Cruise "Jack Reacher 2" and "Suicide Squad."  Or due to the long plane flight, I can watch both.     Jared Lato's version of the Joker is nothing compared to Trump's taking on the Joker's characteristics.  President Trump reminds me a bit of "Suicide Squad," because he's much better than the film.  It's interesting that the execution producer of "Suicide Squad"  is Steven Mnuchin, the brand new Secretary of The Treasury.  The other thing I like to watch is the real-time map of the plane going over the Pacific ocean.   I once sat in my seat for 10 hours just glued in front of my own screen watching the Plane I'm on, leaving Los Angeles and eventually arriving in Narita.   
I loathe traveling.  I find it hard to believe that there are people out there that like to deal with their luggage.   I had to push my wife's luggage from one space to the next.  Once we got to our living space in Meguro, she opened up her luggage exposing four boxes of  Trader Joe's cereal brand.  My wife refuses to change her breakfast habit, even when traveling.   I find it insane that she can't find cereal in the local Japanese market here, but she insists on Trader Joe's cereal.   So what can I do, but push her luggage from there to here. 
I suffer from jet-lag which is something horrible. It makes my eyes hurt and of course the headache as well.  They say one should drink a lot of water on the flight, but I usually drink tons of white wine to get through the boredom.    In theory, this may not be the best thing to do, but alas  I have never turned down a free glass of wine on an international flight. 
I haven't been to Tokyo since 2015.  I feel like I'm greeting old friends.  I tend to hang out in the Meguro area of Tokyo, and I see the same shop people - the sake shop, the fish market, and the local coffee shop.  They know my face, and that I tend to disappear, but I always come back.   As I walked home from the local market tonight, I ran into a display of dolls. I'm told by a citizen of Meguro that this is a display to honor 'Girl's Day."   Which reminds me to write to Stephen Bannon to suggest that there should be a girl's day in the U.S.  I know I should give up on Bannon, but I can't help it.  There is something charming about the man.  We do share a love for Italian Futurist culture after all.  Surely something can make this relationship a total go for the both of us. 

February 13, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 13, 2017
I'm packing for my trip to Tokyo.  It's cold there.  Since I'm a hardcore California man of 60 years standing, I don't even own a jacket.  I'm   bringing a v-neck t-shirt so I can wear it over a regular long sleeve t-shirt, which of course, will be over a white cotton t-shirt.  And a scarf.  So three layers of T-shirts and scarf I think will be okay for temperatures around 50 degrees.  The plane ride will be 11 hours long, and 17 hours in the future.  Jet-lag is not an option.  I have to stay alerted for the entire trip.  Although, the neon lights of the Ginza bathes my eyes in such a fashion that I become sleepy.   There is something about Japan that makes me feel cozy.  For instance, there is no central heating in most Japanese homes.  To get out of your comfortable bed to pee in the middle of the night is a shock to the body.  First, it's cold outside your bedding, and then when you're in the hallway, it's 10 degrees lower for some reason.  The saving grace is the freezing toilet room, but alas, the toilet is heated.  Most if not all Japanese toilets are heated.  It sounds silly, but very much needed in the middle of the night. That, in a nutshell, is a typical middle-of-the-night schedule in a Japanese home.  Right now I'm projecting this, but if it is like the previous trips to Japan in the winter time, well, there should be no surprises.  Where I'm staying there is a washing machine, so I think I can just bring the three t-shirts, scarf, blue jeans, and tennis shoes.  Oh, maybe a pair of socks and shorts as well.  Then I'm set for my adventure.   Must remember to bring BOOKFORUM for the plane ride.  It's the only thing I can read on a plane.  And the size of the magazine is perfect.  It's sort of like a newspaper so one can use it as a napkin on one's lap while you're eating.  I don't know about you, but it's tough to eat in the cheap seats on a plane.  I'm left-handed, so it's always awkward to have someone near me during a meal.  And I tend to leave crumbs on my lap, so BOOKFORUM serves excellent service.  I can't wait until tomorrow.  Why can't tomorrow be now, and now be some other time?

Dennis Hopper "Colors, The Polaroids" Essay by Aaron Rose (Damiani)

ISBN: 978-88-6208-476-5 DamianiDennis Hopper did many things. Known as an actor, filmmaker, artist, art collector, and photographer. His strongest fields for me, is his acting, photographs, and of course, his art collection. The two that stand out is his great sense of the eye for art and his understanding of that medium, whatever it's paintings, colleges or sculpture. He's also a fantastic photographer. The various books that have come out for the last ten or so years are all pretty good. He was always in the right place and time, and his camera/eyes recorded those moments magnificently. 

I have lived in Los Angeles for the most of my life, and I have seen and lived among graffiti walls, side of buildings and sidewalks for my entire adult life. One thing that never goes away in Los Angeles is graffiti. I hate it. For one reason, I love architecture, and I like how walls and concrete look like just a wall or a piece of concrete. The naked texture of the side of a wall is something of beauty to me. When someone paints on it, or use it as a canvas, I feel I'm cheated of the original vision of that structure. Writing this, I know I'm someone in the minority who sees graffiti, both as art and message board, as something of an eyesore for me. There are exceptions, of course, but 98% of the graffiti around Los Angeles is pretty depressing. Dennis Hopper felt another way about it.

"Colors The Polaroids" more likely were Dennis' research material of his making for the film he was about to make called 'Colors." The story of two LAPD cops dueling with the local street gangs. In preparation, Hopper went through his neighborhood of Venice California and elsewhere to document various gang graffiti. On a sociology level, graffiti is fascinating. It's a coded language within a particular group, as well as a message for other gangs. The act of covering up one's graffiti and replacing it with their writing has been a practice for decades. There is that, but Hopper is also looking at the graffiti as works of art, or paintings. As much as I loathe graffiti, there is clearly an aesthetic going on. It is a craft if not always an art. 

The Hopper book is interesting with the fact that he was recording these images for his film, but also a dual interest in it as painting. The way he photographs these walls - mostly shot closely and straight on, I can feel he loved the imagery of this world. Also that he used a Polaroid either means he wanted results right away and not wait for the images for a day or so (before digital photography of course), or he liked the instant playback and almost artless aspect of such a camera and its use. The truth is, the Polaroid is a highly aesthetic as well. It has its limitations, but that sometimes turns the artist onto that medium. Most of the writings on the side or wall have to be done quickly for their safety sake as well as not being caught by the cops or property owners - so in that sense, an instant camera serves the same purpose. You have one shot at it, and that's it. 

The introduction/essay by Aaron Rose is pretty good. For the hardcore Los Angeles citizen as well as being a fan of Dennis Hopper. Then the book is for you.

"On The Natural History of Destruction" by W.G. Sebald (Notting Hill Editions)

ISBN: 978-1-907903-55-7 Notting Hill EditionsAs a writer, W.G. Sebald is a guy with a bow and arrow and can take on a difficult subject, and hit a bullseye every time. He had the talent to look at his subject matter apparently, like a surgeon going into the operation room to do a complicated procedure, but he always comes through in the end. Normally Sebald is a fictional writer but through the eyes of a subjective journalist. It's his skill in laying out the landscape in his novels, and especially in these two essays, one on the bombings of various German cities, and the other on a controversial German writer, Alfred Andersch.
The brilliance of his essay (speech) on the bombings in different German cities is that he doesn't play the victim's card. He looks at them for what they are. A destruction that killed and disrupted many lives, but in the shadow of Hitler's horrible vision of the world. Through Sebald's descriptive writing, one can almost taste the misery and the essence of the hopelessness of it all. Hitler's goal was to bomb London. He would go into detail about how the flames would eat up the English capital in horror overtures. The irony is that it happened to his own country. The vision he brought to the world, didn't exactly worked out for him (or Germany).
The Alfred Andersch essay is fascinating, due to how Sebald, a fellow German, see this individual within the Nazi/World War II environment. Andersch is a writer I know nothing of, till I read Sebald's piece. It seems in certain circles and through his writing, he was the good moral German during the Nazi years. Sebald feels differently. In a critical and almost cold-like manner, he cuts into the Andersch myth of the good Nazi. Reading it, I'm struck by how the individual deals with the issue of morality and identity in a landscape that is both dangerous and quite evil. I think we at this moment and time, feel the same regarding a certain individual in the White House. It's hard not to read this book and not think of the destruction in Palestine, Libya, and other parts of the world.
The Notting Hill Edition of "On The Natural History of Destruction" is a beautifully designed and elegant book. Which makes the book even more compelling in how this devastating text is placed in such a seductive packaging.

"Before Pictures" by Douglas Crimp (The University of Chicago Press/Dancing Foxes Press)

ISBN 978-0-226-423456In my youth, I subscribed to the October journal. I feel my main attraction to the journal was due to its design. Which is, to this day, the exact same thing. I like a magazine or journal that doesn't change. Saying that I haven't read it for 20 years or so, even though, it's an excellent publication of writers writing about things I'm interested in. One of those writers is Douglas Crimp. If his name was attached to an essay I would read it. 

"Before Pictures" is a book that I wouldn't expect from Crimp. It's very personal, and perhaps one of the best books from a gay perspective on New York City and its haunts. The book is centered on the fact that he curated a show called "Pictures" which was influential due it had Robert Longo, Cindy Sherman, and others. He was a critic who was/is interested in how the arts merge into pop culture. What I like about this book is that it's a very focused memoir on the place, time, and the nature of one's sexuality and love of the arts can all meet on a specific landscape. When he writes about the disco era it's fascinating, maybe because I just think of him as an art critic and not a guy who actually had a public life in such a wonderful environment. Or his interest in the Ballet, which is quite deep, and of course, like everything else in this book, deals with a relationship. A superb memoir that touches on a lot of issues. His love (I think) for Manhattan and some other locations. The Fire Island part of the book was equally fascinating to me. Essential gay culture literature, and of course, a very insider's view of the arts during the 1970s through the 1980s. Wonderful.

February 10, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 10, 2017
For my long flight to Tokyo, I need to read a book that will make me forget my misery somewhere, flying over the Pacific Ocean.  Through my e-mail friend, yet a man who refuses to see me, Stephen Bannon, I plan to read Julius Evola.  Bannon has often given praise to Evola, for his views on society and its culture.  His masterpiece is reported to be "Revolt Against the Modern World."  Born in 1898, and died in 1974, this Italian painter and philosopher is known as a Radical Traditionalist.  A major occultist/esotericist of his time, he was a man who embraced the avant-garde arts, such as Futurism and Dadaism as well as a lifetime love for Fascism.   Although he was once close to Mussolini, he was more in line with the Nazis in Germany.  Of course, a man of high intellect becomes a suspicious character in the eyes of SS's Heinrich Himmler, who didn't trust him.    Evola felt Mussolini was too soft of a figure and intellect, and he felt the same way regarding Marinetti and the Futurists.  He preferred the spiritual leanings of the ancient Roman Paganism than to say something like Christianity. 


Bannon and I share an interest in digging deep into the cultural world to discover the foundation of our political beliefs.   Bannon is more attracted to the possibility of seeing Evola's political views becoming a reality in the 21st century.   The intellectual racist is the new man in Washington DC.   Not the President mind you, but it's best when the intellectual whispers secrets to the King.  As for myself, I'm more interested in Evola's theories on tantra sex.  Deep down I could care less about society in general.   I just want to get 'off' in an unusual fashion. 

February 9, 2017 (Tosh's Diary)

February 9, 2017
I can't deal with it.  I'm leaving the United States for Japan.  I need a country that represents order and is sane.  The situation is, do I focus on life as a Zen Monk, or go into Japanese pop music (J-pop) life?   Or can I do both?   
The foundation thing is not happening.  Both my mom and wife quit the Foundation's board of directors.  Which just leaves me as the head of the board.   We or I should say "I" had a board meeting, where I sat around a white table and read a tourist guide to Tokyo.   It was by far, the most constructive thing I did that day.  My tickets are purchased, and I'm very much looking forward to spending time in my old haunts in little Tokyo town.  There is a bar in Shinjuku that is calling out my name.  If you be quiet for a second or so, you can hear it.  "Tosh-chan, come here."  
I'm looking forward to getting back to the old Shibuya sound.  I have a faint idea of getting a band of girl dancers behind me as the singer.  I can dance OK, but I think the spectacle of it all will be a huge success. If nothing else, it will be useful for my ongoing memoir. 

"Novi Sad" by Jeff Jackson (Kiddiepunk)

www.kiddiepunk.com KiddiepunkI read "Novi Sad" on the bus where my destination was at the barber for my haircut, and I didn't want to go home till I finished the book - so I ended up in a local bar to read the entire novella. It's a very moving book regarding the subject matter of imminent death, the loss of an important person in one's community, and the presence of the world that is not going to get better. A gang of young people, who are barely existing, are located in an abandoned hotel waiting for their 'leader' of sorts. They go through an abandoned and destroyed city to find the lost one. Not to give away the details of the plot, but it is very much a haunted work I think dealing with sadness and the acknowledgment of one who has passed on to the other side.
One of the characters in this short narrative is named "Blue," and the pages in this book are on light blue paper. I was reading it in a dark bar, and the blue is a nice bath for the eyes, but also in tuned with the character "Blue," as well as the story being sort of a version of the blues. It's a beautifully designed artbook by Michael Salerno and published with great love by Kiddiepunk, who works by the way, with Dennis Cooper. The images or artwork fits in greatly with the narrative. A really nice package. A great read. Now, it must be yours.