What a Japanese recluse can teach an American mass-murderer

The first definition of antisocial is: Shunning contact with others.

In Tokyo, Japan; a megalopolis with almost twice the population of New York City, a man in his mid-20’s has not left home in months, save for the occasional trip to an all-night corner store. He spends all of his time playing video games, reading comics, or “socializing” in online chat-rooms. The state of his cramped apartment is that of a not-so-severe episode of Hoarders, and the last time he left was only to stock up on comics and non-perishable foods. He has few friends, unless you count the faceless multitude he chats with online. He is, for all intents and purposes, a hermit. For many reasons he feels society has rejected him, and like a growing number of Japanese citizens, he has decided to withdraw from it. He feels that people, in general, are insidious, untrustworthy, and evil.

The second definition of antisocial is: Being hostile to or disruptive of normal standards of social behavior.

In Isla Vista, California, a 22-year-old named Elliot Rodger stabbed three men to death. He then posted a video to Youtube explaining how humanity treated him unfairly, and how people were like a virus that needed be erased. After he posted the video he went to a nearby sorority house and shot two students, then continued his rampage throughout the city, running over bystanders in the BMW that his parents bought him. When the dust finally settled, Rodger had killed six people and injured thirteen, before turning the gun on himself. He decided to commit these crimes because he felt rejected by society. People, to Rodger, tended to be insidious, untrustworthy, and evil.  

Each story mentioned above takes its definition of antisocial to the furthest extreme. In fact, the motives behind the Japanese man holing himself up, and Elliot Rodger’s killing spree, are strikingly similar. Why did these two comparably tortured souls take drastically different approaches to appeasing themselves?

In 1998 the Japanese psychiatrist Tamaki Saitō invented the term hikikomori, referring to a condition characterized by a state of social withdrawal and avoidance (education, work, friendships) combined with a persistent isolation and confinement in the own home for at least 6 months. These hikikomori react to the pressures of the outside world by complete social withdrawal. It is estimated that there are between 500,000 and two million hikikomori in Japan, but considering that many of them are hidden away, and reluctant to talk, it is extremely difficult to gauge the number accurately.

These hikikomori that feel rejected by society retreat inward and stay there, while many Americans that feel the same way advance outward and take revenge. 

Lets take a look at some of the commonalities that hikikomori and spree-killers share… 

Both tend to: 

Be male, between the ages of twenty and thirty-five.

Play violent video games.

Suffer from increasingly poor job markets.

Be victims of bullying.

Come from middle, and upper-middle-class families.

They share many commonalities, but two very different reactions. The difference seems to do in-part with the way the two societies view the importance of social hierarchies.  

The American victim of bullying may retaliate because of the shame that comes with losing social status. They must keep up appearances. In a society that preaches individuality and advocates creative freedom, Americans tend to center their lives around personal relationships and the networking that cultivates these relationships. A painful breakup,for instance, will usually be taken harder than the disgrace of a failed exam. Most people would deal with either of these in a myriad of ways ranging from taking a long walk, to taking hard drugs. Then there are those few that decide to shoot up a school or a movie theater. Many mass shooters, rather than wanting to be alone, have a history of struggling to connect. This ties in to a uniquely American obsession with fame, or infamy. Rising to the top of the social ladder, being notorious, achieving “legendary status” - all of this is very glamorous in our culture. If a person feels rejected by society, seeing their chance of making a mark on it dwindling, they might take drastic measures to make sure that they are remembered. 

In Japan the prevailing philosophy is that of Confucius, who's teachings de-emphasize the individual, and favor the conformist stance. The way to a happy life is to fit in, to be one of the many, to not make waves. Although bullying is prevalent in both societies, Japanese victims don’t tend to retaliate with violence because they do not hold such high importance on social status. Being at the top of a school pecking order would mean sticking out. A Japanese victim of bullying might be more worried about bringing shame to his family, than the damage it would inflict personally. It is no wonder why so many retreat inward, and stay there. A hikikomori is trying to erase any trace of existence, instead of leaving a blood-stained mark in the history books. 

If Elliot Rodger decided to turn the gun on himself before taking innocent lives, it would be a much less heart breaking story. In fact, if it played out this way in Japan, it would be almost common. This isn’t to say that many socially rejected Americans don’t commit suicide without taking others with them, but statistically it is more often the other way around. 

The suicide rate in America is 12.5, In Japan it’s 21.4.

Conversely, The murder rate in America is 4.7, and in Japan it’s 0.3.

The evolution of a mass-shooter and a hikikomori is so often the same, a sad story of social rejection and self-inflicted pain. The Japanese author Ryu Murakami writes: “Japan should develop into a society in which each member is able to set his or her own aims.” - In essence, to put more emphasis on the individual, as America does. Is there a happy medium to be found between these two schools of thought?

 Technology has given us access to inter-continental communication. A modern day hermit in Japan might be, at this moment, chatting online to an American with murder on his mind. Maybe they can empathize with each other's similar plights, lessening the pain that, to them, feels inescapable.   

New novel

Started my new novel today, the day after finishing the 2nd draft of my first one. I din't think that I was going to be able to jump right in like I did, but it felt great. Got a little over 1k words down. I type on a discontinued word processor called an Alphasmart Neo, because I get too distracted by the internet when I use the computer. If my handwriting wasn't unreadable, I'd do it that way.

This new one (as yet untitled) is going to involve a Japanese cult that kidnaps an American rapper. The protagonist is a young woman named Kaori who is an ex-member of the cult. I think she might save the rapper, I'm not sure. She is a virgin, and the cult has messed her head up quite a bit. I want to novel to read like vaporwave music makes me feel. I am very inspired by the films of Sion Sono. Here are some images from some of his movies and other shots of how I want the novel to feel

*********************************************************************************

Now what?

I finished the 2nd draft of my short horror novel tentatively titled How We Became This Thing, and have been looking around Goodreads and other forums for beta readers. I found one so far.

The book is only 45k words at the moment. Too long for a novella, and too short for a "proper" novel. Since reading it over for the fourth or fifth time before sending it to the beta reader, I came to the conclusion that it was shit. Utter garbage. The ending is awful and anticlimactic. All of the characters except for the protagonist are one dimensional. It's too damn short, or too damn long.

Then again, what do I know? Make the microscope bigger and bigger until you can find anything. I am already excited to write the next one, that's what it is. It is going to be Blue.

I'll start this off with a rejection.

My first. I pooped my cherry. I mean popped. About ten times in one day. It was actually kind of like the first time I had sex. After the experience, I immediately wanted do it again and again and again.
The story is about a couple that make a fake snuff film together. The only publisher that gave me feedback said that the ending was crap (which is true), and the formatting was terrible (I had to transfer from scrivener to a Word file, and I don't have Word on my mac). They would, however, love to take my story if I fixed those issues.

Maybe later. I've found it really tough to go back and edit after about draft 3. By that time, I am sick of the story.

That is all I have to say, here is a thing:

Lipstick

Lipstick

Lipstick

Green prairie seabed 

Sony Genesis 

Revolving aquarium Blue love seabed

Dirty monkey yoga fucking

Splinter in the head, seabed

Yours

Truly