I Might Be Learning a Dying Language

I've been thinking about this for a while now and this sums up some of my concerns.

Basically, the Japanese people have a lot of problems and don't really seem too concerned about them. Let's dish, shall we?

First, Low Birthrate.

These guys need to make babies. Lots of them. If the current trends continue, Japan's population of some 127 million people is expected to fall to 100 million by 2050 and to 64 million by 2100 (Japan Times).

That's a colossal drop.

People used to talk about the upcoming "population bomb" where a demographic explosion from India, China, and the third world would drain the globe's resources. For Japan rather, their bomb could be an implosion leaving an empty shell of a once mighty economic powerhouse.

There are a few big reasons for this, and one of the most popularly cited is urbanization. This has been expounded upon at length, so I want to mention a couple smaller influences.

Parasite Singles.

In West, we have a similar phenomenon called the Boomerang Generation. These are the kids who went to college, then moved back home and are living rent free (or at very low rates). Thus, they can continue a college-like lifestyle with relatively few problems, expenses, et cetera. Likewise, their contribution to society about the same.

In Japan, they have the Parasaito Singuru. Imagine the boomerang generation, but with the twist that 60% of single men and 80% of single women between the ages of 20 and 34 live with their parents. Soak that in for a minute... (Side note: as a 20-something single dude, this is extraordinarily annoying.)

Now factor in that these numbers are rising, and you see that a plummeting birthrate is completely logical.

Now let's address those guys. Yeah, those guys. The Herbivores.

I'll sum up. They like fashion; they like looking nice. The don't care about making money; they aren't interested in women.

Ok, I was with you guys for the first half. Metro. Got it; no problem. Hey, I like gel in my hair, too. All spiky. Wonderful.

Then you lost me. My brain can't even wrap around all that. It's such an evolutionary dead end that my carnivorous mind refuses to even process it. Maybe they should lay off of the estrogen-soaked soy products and grow some chest hair.

And for the love of God, dance with the girls, ya herbs!

Next edition of IMBLaDL, we'll look at looming economic and political threats. Sounds exciting, ne?

JetSetArnett Out.

Girl, I don't know, I don't know why

The Reading Test of Sorrow

This week I'm grading the 三年生 (ninth grade) classes for reading and memorization. They're taking pieces from the following passage and reciting them to me... over and over:

A Mother's Lullaby

A big, old tree stands by a road near the city of Hiroshima. Through the years, it has seen many things.

One summer night the tree heard a lullaby. A mother was singing to her little girl under the tree. They looked happy, and the song sounded sweet. But the tree remembered something sad.

"Yes, it was some sixty years ago. I heard a lullaby that night, too."

On the morning of that day, a big bomb fell on the city of Hiroshima. Many people lost their lives, and many other were injured. They had burns all over their bodies. I was very sad when I saw those people.

It was a very hot day. Some of the people fell down near me. I said to them, "Come and rest in my shade. You'll be all right soon."

Night came. Some people were already dead. I heard a weak voice. It was a lullaby. A young girl was singing to a little boy.

"Mommy! Mommy!" the boy cried.

"Don't cry," the girl said. "Mommy is here." Then she began to sing again.

She was very weak, but she tried to be a mother to the poor little boy. She held him in her arms like a real mother.

"Mommy," the boy was still crying.

"Be a good boy," said the girl. "You'll be all right." She held the boy more tightly and began to sing again.

After a while the boy stopped crying and quietly died. But the little mother did not stop singing. It was a sad lullaby. The girl's voice became weaker and weaker.

Morning came and the sun rose, but the girl never moved again.

I knew I was in trouble after the first line... I could use a drink.

JetSetArnett Out.