The Aokigahara forest is the suicide forest of Japan. It sits in Yamanashi, the prefecture that touches Tokyo's western side and encompasses Mt. Fuji's northern slope. The first and only time that Nathan and I had passed through the woods, there was a pair of sneakers lining the side of the road -- a popularly used indication that whoever those shoes belonged to was at that point either hanging from a tree or preparing to do so.
The magnetic base of Fuji causes compasses to malfunction and there are few noticeable landmarks that decorate the forest's stretch. You enter to die, and later, should you regret the decision, you'll have a hard time leaving, barefoot and lost.
The annual number found dead each year often
exceeds seventy, and as many are deterred by authorities. In reality, the numbers are likely higher than this considering the
lack of enthusiasm on the part of those who must organize the sweep operations:
"We have to pay for the bodies to be disposed," says Takatoshi Kobayashi, mayor of Narusawa, one of three villages bearing the brunt of cleaning up the suicides. "Doing so keeps us away from the work we should be doing. (Suicides) ruin the area's name. We're all for an end to the searches.""There's no need to go looking for people who've come out here to kill themselves," says a police officer who has taken part in a number of the probes. "The first time I went looking, I was pretty keen, but after that I just hung around behind the lead group and pretended to look busy."Such a trend is all the better for those who have found
pilfering the corpses to be a lucrative engagement.
I've spent the evening reading Flannel Ass's
weblog The Only Way is the Naked Way in its entirety and was greatly affected by the author's acumen. So tremendously moved was I as to compose a compendium of Flannel Ass's most wondrous insights, sorted by topic, and accompanied by a glossary of the author's native West Bank vernacular. Links to the weblog entries in which they originally appear are provided after each quote, and all quotes are preserved in their original form, as Flannel Ass had intended.
( To the compendium. ) ( To the glossary. )
Somebody Stole the Giant Lobster Claw interviews Violent J of the Insane Clown Posse:
SSGLC: So, tell me a little bit about the origins of ICP.
VJ:
The way it happened was at the same time that we were dead, down and out, broke, beat up and fuckin' laughed at, the Dark Carnival came along. Some people kept the holy ghost, other people did religions or whatever, for us it was the Dark Carnival. A whole understanding just came to our view. It was like falling in love with a bitch, you know what I mean?SSGLC: Yeah, J, I know what you mean.
VJ:
It was like falling in love with this thing that just came out of nowhere: We'll paint our faces, we're the Insane Clown Posse. It's like we're a computer and somebody's feeding the data into us: 'You will release six jokers cards, six prophets in the form of jokers cards.' And it all made sense, you know?SSGLC: Absolutely. It makes total sense.
VJ:
You half believe it and you half don't. But it's like the shit, you know what I mean?SSGLC: It seems completely believable. Why would you only half believe it?
VJ:
'Cause you know it's so magical.SSGLC: That's true. It is very magical. J, let's talk a little bit more about the music that ICP composes.
VJ:
We're fans of our own shit, because somebody else is feeding it to us, and that person is the Dark Carnival. It's a very fucking real thing, but at the same time, you think maybe it's just your fucking imagination going boocoo, but it's the shit, you know what I'm saying?SSGLC: You're not going boocoo. Many have felt the presence of the Dark Carnival.
VJ:
It's very, very fresh.SSGLC: Well, that's all the time we have, J. Thanks for the
interview.
Violent J outside of a suburban
Detroit Cracker Barrel 
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