Take the Power Back!!

Alright, check this out! This is the dreaded MUKADE that has been known to crawl into the ears of unsuspecting children, and bite them to DEATH! Anyway, I found this little sweetheart on the running path I jog on daily. Sometimes I take my camera with me for no reason but to photograph strange bugs and stuff. Anyway, why am I showing you this? Because I wanted to let you know that I put this frickin bug into Kocho Sensei's lunch today! No, that's not right. But I did fight the system today, and it wasn't with a mukade, it was with my MIND, baby!

In a previous post, I had mentioned that I wrote up the letter to the PTA, but didn't turn it in. Well, the English teachers kept asking for it and asking for it, so finally I couldn't take the pressure, and just gave it to them. But I told them beforehand that they wouldn't like it. Hatada sensei took one look at it, and just kept saying over and over, "Kibishii...kibishii...," like it was a mantra to make it go away. Kibishii means "strict" or "harsh." But like I said, I calls it like I sees it, and if you can't be true to yourself, you might as well just give in to the man, brother.

Anyway, after reading through it, she told me straight away that there was no way they could put it in the PTA newsletter, but she asked if she could use it for some other purpose...I told her yes, but I'm left wondering what "other purpose" she could possibly want it for...Does she want to use it as scratch paper? Did she run out of toilet paper? Maybe she had some emergency origami she needed to do. Who knows. But afterwards, I saw her take an old version of the PTA newsletter into another room, so tomorrow I'm going to have to ask her if she copied some other ALT's goodbye letter, and put my name on it. Because if she did, the gloves come off and the mukades come in...to her soba bento that is!!

PORN!!

Since my arrival in Japan, I've downloaded some porn. That's putting it mildly. I've downloaded a fucking shitload of porn. That's better. Now, I was hoping to give it to my successor, but she seems like a nice girl, and I don't want to freak her out by offering her 16 cds full of downloaded porn. So here is my offer. I will send my porn to the first person who asks me for it, postage paid. All you have to do is promise it a good home, and watch each cd at least once a month. And stroke it. The porn, that is. Caress the cds lovingly before and after each use. My god, does anyone read this? Where are all the public outcries? Where's Billy Graham when I need him most? Doesn't anyone realize that this is a call for help?

Good day.

Spooky Donkey

Yankees and Yanshas

Man, I have got to find out where they hang out! I need some pictures of these guys and their fucking cars before I get out of here. I've tried hanging out at all the known Yankee hideouts, but they seem to be eluding me. It's like they know I'm coming, and they sneak away with their dragon-winged vans just before I arrive. The only solution I can think of is to get in with one of the lesser Yankees, the Yankee wannabes as it were, and get him to introduce me around the gang...after I prove myself to them, that is.

I guess the first thing I have to do is to get a wig, die the hair orange, and then shave a straight up and down pattern into my eyebrows, after carefully plucking them so they're nice and thin. Then I'll have to go to the Home Center to buy myself some baggy work pants, probably a variety of colors...purple, pink, anything gay-looking. After that, I'll have to renounce all my Gaijin friends, since Yankees don't hang out with Gaijin. And yes, I'll have to stop speaking any English, because a Yankee by definition doesn't speak any of that foreign bullshit!

If I can pass myself off as one of their kind, I think I can break into the inner ring, and possibly even become their Yankee leader. I'll institute a Yankee Pride day, and we'll have a parade down the main street of Kanoya. We'll have Yankee reunions at Joyfull, and that fucking wench better bring our Chicken Nanban in a goddam hurry, because we're fucking YANKEES for chrissakes! And then, when we're riding high, I can finally get a goddam picture of one of their elusive Yansha!! The Yansha, if properly assembled is one of the most amazing sights of Japan, but they're rare to see in the daytime, and even rarer in the boonies of Kagoshima. I have a couple of pictures at my homepage, but I need more, More, MORE!!

If you don't hear from me, it means I've infiltrated their gang (or died trying), so keep looking at the Random Pics section of my homepage for updates. I'll get 'em in the end...

The Final Countdown

Well folks, it began a few months ago, and the end is now in sight. I can tell you all with clear conviction that in just 49 days, I'll be sitting back, huffin' on a big-ass bong full of the best bud that Vancouver can muster, while I relax in front of Pete's big-screen TV and get my ass kicked at Play Station 2 Nascar racing. I've been counting the days, and rather than going slower, as I suspected, time just keeps ticking right along, so that I'll soon be FUCKED for all my unpreparedness in this venture. Somebody better tell the Donkey to get his ass off the internet and into the post office to start shipping his crap back to the States, if he plans on getting it done at all!

But the mere thought of smoking weed makes me lethargic, and I just sit around all day hoping all my things will just ship themselves back home. Well, I'm off to sit in my incense-filled room, and dream of that day, less than two months away, when all will be swirling and hazy...

A Letter to the PTA

I was recently approached by the local chapter of the PTA to write an article to be placed in their newsletter about the state of English education in Japan as I see it. I was torn about writing what they wanted to hear and what they needed to hear. In the end, I ended up not turning anything in, because I just couldn’t give them the harsh truth. Here’s the article that I wrote for them though. See if you agree…

It was in the Killing Fields in Cambodia where I realized what ESL was really about. I was on holiday, and met a teacher at the Killing Fields who asked me to come and teach his students while I was in the country. I agreed to do so. The students were so eager to learn, and hung on my every word. It wasn’t only English they wanted to learn, but Japanese, French, and nearly any language they could use to speak to the people coming to their country.

That kind of enthusiasm for language learning is what I thought I would get when I moved to Japan nearly three years ago. I was counting on it. Sadly, the reality was quite the opposite: students, babied by their teachers, unwilling to even try; teachers citing the fact that they have to teach only what’s on the entrance exams; everybody exclaiming that they have no chance to speak English. Everywhere I go, I run into a wall of excuses.

These excuses are baseless, and only serve as an insult to the ALTs brought here at great monetary expense to the Japanese taxpayers. With all the tax money that is spent on providing schools with ALTs, if I were a parent with sons/daughters in the Japanese school system, I would be more than a little upset if my child couldn’t answer a simple question like “How are you?” in English after six (usually more) years of education.

I’m not going to offer solutions, as I’ve already done that on numerous occasions to no effect. Rather, I’m going to offer you the choice of either throwing your money away, or demanding solutions and change by MEXT and the government. It seems like an obvious one to me.

Do you think I’m full of shit, or does this have merit to any of the four of you reading this? Of course, the original letter was to be written in Japanese, because none of the people reading the newsletter could read English…

If you're born with it, you can't shake it.

J-ness, that is. By now, unless you've been living in a cave (or on Io-jima), you must've heard about the new fashion wave (sparked by Koizumi's [albeit misguided] attempts to lower greenhouse gases) sweeping Japan, Cool Biz! Gone are the days when salary men all dressed in identical coats and ties, swooped down on the public transport system, and were sped off to work, all with identical Agent Smith-type faces, like a scene out of The Matrix. Yes, we've seen the last of the business suits during the sweltering summer months in Japan. We're entering a brave new world...or are we?

I stopped by the Kanoya City Hall on the first day of the all-new Cool Biz! affair to see how it would go down in the ass-crack of Japan. I walked into the BOE, and Lo and Behold! The entire office was jacket- and tie-less! "I must be seeing things!" I said to myself (and to anyone who would listen). They don't just break with tradition so easily in the South, you see.

I was soon to have my fears realized though, as the people in the office all had a meeting to attend. Just before the meeting, they all faithfully donned there ties and jackets, and with beads of sweat popping on their foreheads, went off to their meeting.

Why? Here's the answer I received: In the office, it's okay, but when you have a meeting with someone from outside the office, it's rude to not put on your best face. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but if the entire outside world knows of Japan's new Cool Biz! thing, wouldn't you think the local populace would also know about, and respect it? I mean, for fuck's sake, wouldn't you take off your coat if the thermostat was fixed at 82 degrees?!?

Just goes to show that if you're born with it, you can't shake it. By the way, everyone I spoke with agreed taht it was idiotic for them to put their jackets and ties on just to meet with someonE, but would NEVER DREAM of not doing it!

Yeah, well it's time to go...

"I'm going to be sad when you go, Spooky D," she said with tears in her eyes. It was then that I realized that I wasn't going to be sad at all. Certainly, there are aspects of this country that I'll miss - the mountains, the sea, hiking, biking, swimming, teabagging...but for chrissakes, I will certainly not be missing the shithole that I call my workplace!

The three years of my life I have utterly wasted on this job - I'll never get them back. Man, I coulda been somebody by now! And the lack of respect at this worthless job is mindblowing. At first, I worked as diligently as a man could, trying to help out around the school, volunteering for after-school programs, etc. But then it slowly dawned on me that nobody has any respect for the ALT here. Oh, sure...the parents treat you nicely...even reverently blowing me a time or two, but the teachers! The TEACHERS!!

I couldn't imagine the type of job in the states where you import someone to teach their language to your students, and then NOT include them in anything academic at all! I've never been invited to a single English teachers meeting in all my years. Not once. Today, my supervising teacher allowed me to sort through the new English textbooks they'll be choosing to use for the next school year. I was allowed to sort them for the teachers meeting that was to be held later in the day. The one when I asked him if I could help with the selection, he said..."ahhh, you know, we're just gonna be talking in Japanese, so you might as well not bother."

Well of course not. Why would my input count for anything? Why would they need a native speaker to judge the merits of the textbooks they're choosing? That wouldn't make sense. Then again, it really doesn't matter at all. You see, Japanese textbooks ALL suck, so no matter which one they choose, it's gonna be horrible.

But that's not all. I think another big reason I want out so bad is the lack of any sort of English education in the English classrooms here. The teachers speak not a word of it in the class. The students aren't expected to speak a word of it back to them. After class, the teachers wouldn't dream of speaking to their students in anything other than Japanese. That would be in-fucking-SANE!! And then they all have the nerve to complain that they never get a chance to speak English, and that's why they are so fukken shitty at it! Hah! Bunch of MORONS here on a lark (as my friend BBM says)!

No sir, she's gonna miss me, but my answer to her was as follows:

"Yeah, well it's time for me to go!"

Family Mart Cartman

I can't say when it happened, because I don't know, but dear readers, you'll be sad to hear that Family Mart Cartman no longer works at Family Mart! That's right, the lovable pudgy cross between Herve Villechaize (Tattoo from Fantasy Island) and a Japanese Eric Cartman has gone on to greener fields somewhere...hopefully in a different town. Not that Kihoku is bad, but I think Family Mart Cartman could probably get acting jobs in Tokyo or Osaka if he played his cards right.

For those of you who don't know, he kind of has the face and (upper) body of Tattoo, but his voice is all Eric Cartman, which makes for an interesting visit to the Family Mart. He was a boisterous guy, always ready for a scrap with some young buck. Yes, that was the Family Mart Cartman of yesterday. Today, he may be polishing his skills on the casting room couch as he polishes the knob of Beat Takeshi, preparing for his next Battle Royale film. Now wouldn't that be fantastic? Battle Royale III, the wrath of Family Mart Cartman!! I bet it would at least be better than the new Star Wars III, Revenge of the Shit...er Sith.

Family Mart Cartman...may god be with you brother.

Breaking the shogakkusei

If you're not already out to get the Donkey, this post may cause you to pick up your gun and come lookin'. But Spooky D don't go down easy friend, so watch yourself...and take a look at the horror below.

I'm not sure what the appropriate amount of times to tell kids "DON'T TOUCH ME" is, but I would say that a year's worth of saying it would probably be in the "enough" category. Anyway, those of you who know me, already know that I am as bald as the tires on Steve's car. This, coupled with the fact that when it's 90 degrees outside, I sweat profusely, makes for a cranky Donkey. The Donkey doesn't like to be touched on the head by little kids - especially when sweat is running off his head like it's rainin'. Kids, however, love to touch the Donkey on his head.

Now, on this particular occasion, the Donkey, having told the children all day to stop touching him, was in a foul mood. It was also a little boy's birthday. The little boy tells the Donkey he's going to touch him on the head, because it's his birthday. The Donkey tells the little boy that he wouldn't do that if he were him, because he might come back missing some fingers. Let the records show that the Donkey sternly warned him. The little boy disregarded the Donkey's warning, and proceded to sneak up behind him a couple minutes later and rub his filthy little boy hands all over the Donkey's sweaty melon.

Dude, the Donkey was pissed. Livid. Ready to fuck some shit up. But he calmly walked over to the Little boy and twisted the little boy's arm in a chicken hold that not even Hulk Hogan could've gotten out of, and then he asks the (now screaming) little boy, "Do you understand what the Donkey means when he says that he doesn't want to be touched?" The (screaming and crying) little boy said (screamed) "YES!" And the Donkey says "Good, happy birthday." and walks out of the classroom.

Oh dear reader, you have never seen a more smiley Spookydonkey than on that grand day. That little boy was such a wuss. I totally kicked that little boy's ass! I thought second graders were supposed to be tougher than that...

I use more periods of elipses than you!

Have you noticed that in every entry, I use the periods of elipses? That makes me KING...I think...

Erection time again...

Yes ladies and gents, it is indeed erection time in Japan again, and the speaker vans have come out for another round of "lets see who can annoy Spooky D the most." With all the friggin' racket they make, I really can't believe the teachers or principals of the schools don't complain to the powers that be. But the almighty WAH must never be broken I guess.

The martial music really does make me wanna go out and vote though...

Oh my God!! Literally...

I just realized...I've been living a relatively Jesus/religion-free life for the last three years, and it's all gonna come crashing down on me in just a few short weeks, when I trudge grudgingly back to the US. Yes, Pat Robertson Oral Roberts, and Benny Hinn are just a few of the smiling Jebus-lovin' faces I'll be seeing every day on the tube when I get back to the real world.

Oh, why not just shoot myself right now, before I'm subjected to it yet again. I know that this time it's gonna be so much worse, because it just isn't ever mentioned in Japan. I've becomed like a bird that's taken out of the wild for a few years, and then just thrown back into it...I'll have bible over-load, and I'll probably end up walking into a church and stabbing everyone in the building.

Help me Jeeebuuuusssss!!!

Why do I go through it???

Is it just an inherent love of self-torture that makes me do it? I mean, I could just get up and leave. It's not like he's holding my down and making the disgusting sounds as he kneels on my chest, is it? This dude, he sits next to me when I'm on the computer, and I always happen to be here just at lunch time. His desk is directly next to the computer.

Now, I've been here for 3 years, and I'm used to the sounds of J-men eating, but this guy takes it to new levels. It's like he just fucking KNOWS it's going to irritate me, so he takes a loooong, slow fucking annoying loud slurp of his soup, not once...not twice...but three goddam times. EVERY. GOD. DAMN. DAY!!!

But that's not enough for this sadist. Oh no. He then goes back to loudly smacking his mouth open and shut around his greazy bento. And you know how some people can really get the most of their smacking lips. It's not even lips that are smacking. It's the sticky food on the inside of his mouth that just seems to stick, and then come off the roof of his mouth, and then he moves it around with his tongue, and it's just fucking disgusting! The urge to vomit is sooo strong, but I hold back. Somehow, I hold back.

But there's gonna be a day when I come in here all hung over, and then that man is going to be sorry, because I will hurl all over him and his disgusting bento.

Sayonara Engrish Crub

Well, they finally did it...they broke the proverbial camel's back with the straw of shitty English. Or something like that. Anyway, my "English Club," which was held at the Joshiko where I work, was the bane of my existence for a long time, and I finally got myself out of it...or rather the students got myself out of it.Imagine this...

I'm having club one day, and four of the eleven members have shown up. So we're going over the recipes that we'll use for the next week's cooking class. Of course, none of the girls are speaking English, because that would be just too much work, so I end up having conversations with myself for about 20 minutes.

Then it happens:Two first-year students come into the room, and express their desires to join the English club. Well, I think to myself, "Fantastic!!" It sure would be nice to have a couple new faces around here. So I ask them to sit down and introduce themselves in English. It was at this point that one of the older girls breaks in, and tells me (in Japanese, of course) "Mike, please don't ask them to speak English on their first day." So I looked at her, and laughed thinking she was joking around. Mind you, these girls are 16 years old, and have already had at least three years of "English education" at school. I asked the girls again, and they introduced themselves in English. Then I asked a follow-up question to one of them, and another girl busts in and orders me to stop, saying that if I make the students speak English, it'll deaden their desires to join the club.

It was at this point, dear reader, that our conversation turned entirely into Japanese, so that I could properly put these girls in their places. So the first thing I asked these two be-atches that ordered me not to speak English in English club was this: "If you joined the tennis club, would you not want to play tennis on your first day?" They responded that it was a different situation for the tennis club, since it met every day. So I asked them if they would not want to play tennis if it met only one day a week, like the English club. Of course, they insisted that it was an entirely different thing.

We argued back and forth for awhile, before I finally just said, "Look, if you don't want to speak English, that's fine. But don't expect me to waste my time by coming here after my contracted hours are finished, and watch you speak Japanese for an hour. And that was that. After a few choice words, I left and never looked back. Now I'm free to hit the beaches on any given day after school!!

Live from the ferry port

Today, as I was dropping the lovely Hanae off at the ferry terminal, we were waiting for the boat and looking at the little fishies in the water when I noticed a massive dark shadow moving below the surface. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??" I cried. Hanae just looked at me like I was stupid. She didn't see it, but I knew there was something lurking there beneath the waves.

The next thing we knew, a school of rays swam by, right at the surface! Not Manta Rays, but regular rays. I don't know how to tell 'em apart, but Hanae used to work at the aquarium, so she knows. Maybe the markings on their penises are differently colored or something. I don't know. That's not the point. The point is that there were three of them, and it was the coolest thing I've ever seen (at the ferry terminal)! The biggest of them was easily 6 or 7 feet long (from tip to tail), and probably had a wingspan of 3 feet or more.

They were so graceful, and I couldn't help but to wonder how they would taste with a nice burgundy...

The Donkey Show Begins!!

Good afternoon, fair readers.

So begins The Donkey Show in all it's majesty. I will, on this amazing blog, razzle and dazzle, excite and delight, and in general confuse and astound you all. May God have mercy on your souls!!

Of course, you'll have to wait for my first tidbits of wisdom, as they are few and far between. I'm just getting going here today. Come back tomorrow, and I will rock your fuckin' socks off.

Spookydonkey