Bomb the Con

Comiket crisis averted. On December 15th police apprehended the man suspected of menacing Kuroko’s Basketball events with potentially lethal hydrogen sulfide gas from October of last year. The timing couldn’t be better for dojinshi circles. Kuroko and his teammates will ship in time for winter Comiket 85 after a year-long forced sabbatical. But despite being the most publicized terrorist threat in Comiket history, the potential body count pales in comparison to the Tokyo Big Sight Bomb Threat of summer ‘98.

As if to mark the third anniversary of the Aum Shinrikyo doomsday cult’s sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway, a group of radicals identifying themselves as the Japan Purification Federation released a chilling ultimatum--they would blow up Comiket 54 and anime fandom with it on August 15th, 1998. Their warning:

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“Stop! And consider the amount of disgust and repulsion that the otaku race create within society. Otaku--those who can only articulate themselves in terms of anime, those who crowd cafes after anime films for heated discussions, those who are introverts that can only love anime characters, those who flush billions of our nation’s precious currency into the toilet known as the ‘anime industry’--they must be exterminated with extreme prejudice.”

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Most Comiket attendees plan a route to navigate the 35,000-plus dojin circles exhibiting during the three-day event. The Japan Purification Federation was no exception--except their itinerary was optimized for maximum death and destruction. They would begin the cleansing at midday when the otaku population was at its peak and the winding lines around popular tables made moving--and escape--an impossibility.

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Phase I: Begin Cleansing


Initiate attack in the West Hall with daisy-chained M18A1 claymore mines along wall from Point A to Point D. Anyone within the 50m kill zone will be ripped to shreds by shrapnel before they can react. Deafening explosions will create mass panic among survivors who will naturally flee towards the exits and into another set of linked mines (Point E to Point G, then Point H-K, then Point L to Point N). The anti-tank mine at Point O will put any survivors out of their misery. 

Phase II: East Hall Search and Destroy Operation

Simultaneously detonate claymores at Point P in East Hall 1 and East Hall 4. The stampeding crowd will form a gridlock to be pushed forward by sequential explosions from Point Q through Point W. Once the otaku are corralled into the central hallway, ordinance along Point X will detonate, eliminating 90% of the target. Those outside of the kill zone will be left to stumble through bodies, blood and steel ball shrapnel to reflect on their wasted lives until the anti-tank mines at Point Y bring down the roof and release them from existence.

Phase III: Grand Finale

Targets who make it through the carnage of the East Hall may try to escape via the parking lot. They will be greeted with a mine field. Here they will be forced to take responsibility for their fate for the first and last time. Explosions will ignite surrounding vehicles, creating a sea of flame.

Based on previous attendance figures we can expect 250,000 otaku to gather over the day. If even one quarter are present at the time of the attack, that means 50,000 vermin will be exterminated. Shrinking the market will in turn cripple publishers reliant on otaku business and suspend future Comiket and dojinshi events, creating a downward economic spiral.

We will destroy Comiket by expunging the creators.

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A terrifying voice of absolute madness.

Had their plot succeeded, it would have been the largest act of domestic terrorism in Japanese history. Their diligence was their downfall--they released an ultimatum to keep curious innocents out of the line of fire, but failed to consider that doing so would alert the authorities. The MPD came down on the would-be mass murderers with impunity and dismantled their munitions plant, a shoebox apartment in Tokyo’s Nerima ward.

The Japan Purification Federation was the tail end of a hate wave directed at otaku. 2004’s Densha Otoko, the bestselling (purportedly) true story of an otaku who wins the heart of a girl with the help of the Internet message board 2chan, romanticized otaku as a misunderstood subculture of pure-hearted and loyal underdogs. It won the sympathy of the nation in the same way Rain Man made autistic into savants overnight.

The otaku label became simultaneously self-deprecating and self-affirming. It makes you part of a much larger whole. Granted, your peers are losers, but aren’t we all losers in the post-bubble economy?

The cottage industry exploded into an industrial complex. Now we have multiple magazines dedicated to voice actors, cosplay and Vocaloid. Hell, there’s even a publication to cover the “utatte mita” amateur karaoke singers on Nico Nico Douga.

If there’s money to be made in the ongoing recession, it’s from otaku. The government’s Cool Japan initiative is their attempt to strangle a few more golden eggs out of this goose before slaughtering it for the foie gras while leaving the content creators to starve. Consider otaku a farm-raised protected species.

A prank Comiket bomb threat like the one above is unfathomable with the current public mindset. Oh yeah, if it wasn’t obvious from the illustration of cosplayers being blown sky high, the Japan Purification Federation and their plot is a complete fabrication. Not that they were trying to pass it off as legit.

The article ran in the November 1997 issue of Comic Gon, the anime and manga-centric sister publication of Monthly Gon, a Z-grade trash rag that broke stories on where to buy high school prostitutes and recreational drugs, plus features on the standard mix of murder, urban exploration and porn.


Gon was part of the Million Shuppan family of publications that include Pulitzer Prize winners such as the gyaru style bibles Egg and Men’s Egg, as well as Jitsuwa Knuckles, one of many “true story” magazines focused on crime, celebrity scandals, MMA and sex parties on Enoshima beach--imagine Weekly World News and The Huffington Post tied together with barbwire. Now substitute the yakuza exposes for OCD lists of diecast robot release dates and Yamato animators organized by scene, and voila! Comic Gon.

Comic Gon was brilliantly subversive. Aside from info dumps with print so small as to require a magnifying glass, they printed street snaps of kogal that compared school uniforms to Zeon mobile suits, a Cribs-style photo essay of a porn game mogul’s million dollar mansion and an otaku fetish family tree that reunites lolicon and shotacon on the same branch.


Not so long ago otaku could still laugh at themselves. It was a defense mechanism. They understood why the public may loath them. As the media infamously reported in the early 90’s, Comiket was “home to one hundred thousand Miyazaki Tsutomus,” the serial child rapist and cannibal. Maybe they even felt that they deserved to be blown up.

In the years following Densha Otoko, otaku have come out of their shells to grow from "nekura," the quiet weirdo in the back of the class, to "upper-kei," the upbeat socialite that is aggressively forgiving of themselves and their hobby.


This post-Eva generation of otaku can’t stop having a good time, be it by reflexively retweeting memes, flooding Nico Nico Douga live streams with waves of “wwwwwwwww,” or flocking en masse to “Holy Spots” for the privilege to buy souvenirs that are only tangentially related to the current flavor of the season. If there’s one thing an otaku hates, it’s missing out.

Which is why overpriced Blu-ray box sets sucker you in with invites to exclusive fan events, the voice actor industry stays afloat by selling lottery tickets to talk shows disguised as CDs and anime movies continue to dominate the box office despite poor reviews. Otaku just have to be there, if not because they want to be, then so they can have something to post to their SNS.

American otaku get a bad rap for being fat and wearing fedoras, but at least they caught on that the latest Evangelion and Madoka films were unnecessary, self-indulgent and worst of all, once you cut through the misdirection and flashy fights, boring. But in Japan, being an otaku means being part of a never ending feel-good party. Nobody wants to be the turd in the punchbowl. Criticism is frowned upon--and will get your Twitter account flamed into ash--unless you’re arguing that a show is ironically good. But fandom wasn't always so stifling.

Compare the reception of Urusei Yatsura 2: Beautiful Dreamer to Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie--Rebellion. Dreamer was a radical departure from the source material that was praised by critics, dismissed by fans, and disowned by the original author. It wasn’t a financial failure but was also far from a success. We now regard as a classic for the cinematography, storytelling and establishment of the Loop trope. Rebellion likewise goes off the rails, in this case by rewriting the ending of the TV series and simplifying the character’s personalities into parodies of themselves--except fans were happy to dance along with the betrayal to the tune of a two billion yen, making it the highest grossing film based on a late-night anime in history.

Twenty years down the road, what will Rebellion be remembered for, aside from its massive earnings and totally sweet Demon Homura scale figures?

Twenty years down the road, the kids of today will have their own axe to grind with the new crop of otaku. Weekend right-wingers raised on KanColle will drown out the PMA of the happy-go-lucky upper-kei, holographic idols will kill the Vocaloid star, sexaroids will defile the purity of H-games. Japanese fans will always have their own unique defects that ruin the end product. You can’t hope to fix them, only try to understand them.

Some argue that the industry isn’t getting any worse, that there’s always been more chaff than wheat, but things certainly aren’t getting better, and I say that nothing smothers creativity like stability--in this case, stability being the grind of creating anime according to production committee specs and fan demand.

Some animation studios seem to agree. Production I.G. dipped their toes into the whole crowdsourcing thing with Kick-Heart, and if Little Witch Academia is any indication then Trigger loves to break the rules as much as they love receiving foreign capital. Consumers vote with their wallets and Kickstarter is turning into the third-party outside the corrupt system.

Studios that want to challenge the status quo now have the option. When ambitious creators push the envelope, consumers will push it further. Fandom could become edgy once more. Go ahead--give society a reason to bomb the con.

Comiket 83: Photodump

What a haul! Comiket 83 will be remembered for posting record attendance numbers on Day 3 despite giving into terrorist treats against Kuroko's Basketball. Controversy aside, it was business as usual with cosplayers, otaku, and pornographers in their natural element with us there to capture the proceedings on film.

Jojo
Last season's anime adaptation brought the gangs of Araki fans out of the woodwork for a display of the gaudy, distorted, and just plain bizarre. A word of warning to would-be stardust crusaders—the contorted poses required for Jojo-dachi are intended for trained professionals only. Don't try this at home.






Genuine Article
A vast majority of event-goers get suited up as a type of performing art or simply to show their love for the source material. Unfortunately, they are less interesting to photograph than the goods further down.




Gag
Personally, I prefer costumes that provide low-brow gags executed with the grace of an artisan.





Creepy and Candid
Though the seasons change and KyoAni heroines fall out of favor, you can always count on the incorrigible Camera Kozoh to be the most interesting part of the event. Outrageous outfits, Jojo-dachi, and unintentional hilarity—these dudes embody everything that's right (and wrong) about Comiket!






Be sure to check out the Flickr Photoset for everything else that wasn't fit for print, as well as our Comiket albums assembled over the past few years.

Comiket 83: The Hunter Becomes the Hunted

If you've ever been to an event with cosplay, then you're familiar with the fearsome tribe of otaku cameramen, the Camera Kozoh. Barking orders, demanding lewd poses, and pressing for contact information at the end of a grueling shoot, by all appearances they are unrelenting sadists that get off on dominating innocent models. But step into the personal space between the shooter and subject and you'll find that it's the exact opposite. The model has the cameraman wrapped around her little finger, and he would beg for the opportunity to grovel at her manicured feet.

Cosplay is an expensive hobby. The costume itself can easily run hundreds of dollars depending on how complicated the design and accessories are, not to mention hidden fees—upkeep and storage, makeup, trips to the salon, transport and entrance to events—the bills quickly add up for the model, who is likely either still in college or pinching pennies at an entry level position. For girls that plan to get serious about their hobby, first they need to find a way to monetize it—or at least avoid going too far into debt.

Enter the Camera Kozoh.

A good Camera Kozoh will round up a stable of girls that strike his fancy, then organize private photo shoots that serve as the model's main source of income. The photos serve as free advertising and materials for a future photo book. A pretty face might land a girl a few groupies, but to gain name recognition she'll need to tap into the gated community that the cameraman is member of.

Once he gets chummy with a cosplayer, maybe he'll act as her caddy, chauffeur, editor, web master, or even self-appointed manager—all pro bono, of course. To the Camera Kozoh who has already dropped thousands of dollars on monstrous camera rigs, footing the bill is a small price to pay for some facetime. His commitment holds the community together.

To the casual observer, this is where the arrangement falls apart. Aren't these cameramen just creepy middle-aged losers doling out cash for attention from young girls? To a certain degree, yes, probably. But economic constrictions keep any ulterior motives in check. Studio rental fees are prohibitively expensive and easily run half a grand for a session, so they need to buddy up to split the burden. Plus you need a crop of models to rotate between takes, with each asking for a hundred bucks or more to cover costs—a girl's 'gotta eat, after all.

This well-oiled system makes it easy to organize shoots, promote yourself, and make friends along the way for both the cosplayer and the Camera Kozoh.

It also places both parties in a prisoner's dilemma, except without reward for taking a risk. The cameraman wants to make a move on a model, but knows it would ostracize him from his peers and ruin his reputation for private shoots. The model wants attention and money, but if she gets too entangled with a single cameraman she risks alienating fans and the income they represent. “Bros before hoes” has never been a more fitting maxim.

The Camera Kozoh that seems oppressive at events is rendered mostly harmless from internal pressure and external economics. His weakness is obvious to everyone within the community—and most profitable to the ero-cosplayer.

Her revealing costume seduce scores of willing men to purchase CDs filled with photos or videos of the model splayed out in compromising poses, legs open to men with open wallets. These salacious disks, or ROMs, are normally sectioned off from cosplay photo collections at Comiket, or even given adult-only events.

This doesn't stop these succubi from snaking into the photo pit to pass out business cards and promote their wares. If you see a semi-circle of telephoto lenses with flash bulbs strobing, chances are that behind the press of bodies a ROMer is working hard at a sales pitch.

Cosholic, the premiere ROM-exclusive event, is conveniently held in the evening following the second day of Comiket. This allows the model to busk during the first two days, see her new fans at night, then follow-up with a meet-and-greet at her official booth on day three of Comiket.

Ever since the ROMers moved in during the early 90's, the Comiket Planning Committee has been wracking its collective brain-trust trying to find a way to host nudie cosplay without incurring the wrath of the law. Adult dojinshi are comics and as such exist in a legal gray-zone—erotic cosplay, on the other hand, falls squarely under Japan's pornography laws, particularly those outlawing the display of genitals.

Manga can get away with striking out a tiny strip of the offending region with a black bar or a heavy layer of mosaic chaff. If a ROM pulled the same stunt, it could be confiscated as indecent material under article 175 of the Penal Code, with Comiket held accountable as an accomplice.

A scrutinized event like Comiket wants to avoid giving more ammo to the media and more jurisdiction to the authorities at all costs. Hence they have introduced tighter standards of decency—tighter even than those for the off-the-shelf porno mags you find at the conbini. The planning committee may ban a ROM if it doesn't meet their criteria, but this plays right into the hands of the ero-cosplayer. The label “Too Hot For Comiket” is a masturbatory seal of approval and all the more incentive for a fan to visit Cosholic to pluck a bushel of forbidden fruit.

Another major draw are photography tickets. Though the exact stipulations vary from girl to girl, buying a ROM gives the cameraman the right to interact one-on-one with the model and snap to his heart's content, or at least until her handler calls "time." While not as intimate as a studio shoot, it's also nowhere near the hassle—especially for pariahs that have burned all other bridges.

Though it's hard to argue against the predatory nature of models, blaming them for exploiting the cameramen is a knee-jerk reaction. Lonely guys seeking emotional fulfillment have any number of alternate money sinks.

The argument boils down to value—they must feel like they're getting their money's worth, or else would invest into soap lands instead. Likewise, the model needs to maintain a careful balance of professional distance and platonic romance to buffer the dream against reality. Cosplay is defined by role-playing where both parties are expected to perform their parts at all times. If you find this school of method acting too extreme, I suggest watching the drama unfold from the sidelines. Or through a the lens of a camera.

Comiket 81: The High Cost of Fandom

Mobs of young people lined up on train station platforms, carting their color-coordinated luggage behind them: It's a common sight when the New Year's holiday rolls around in Tokyo. While everyone is dead set on getting out of the metropolis, their destinations couldn't be more different.

One group is heading back to their hometowns, bags packed with sweets and souvenirs for relatives. These are the more orthodox and responsible ones—In Japan, New Year's is the holiday for family togetherness, with the same social obligations as Christmas in the west. Spending time with the folks and eating mom's osechi cooking while ingesting mind-numbing TV specials is the greatest form of filial piety that a child can show.

So where does this leave the other group, bound not for the countryside but Tokyo Big Site, luggage stuffed with cosplay outfits as opposed to presents? Each day at Comiket means one less with the family, suggesting that whatever gained from the dojinshi and camaraderie balances the offset.

Assuming that the event runs from December 28th to the 31st, in theory you could hit all three days and still be back to the inaka in time for the opening act of Kohaku Uta Gassen, or at the very least be there with the folks when Matsumoto and the boys from Gaki no Tsukai get clubbed like baby seals.

Summer Comiket is not so forgiving. The event will always overlap with the O-Bon holiday, where, once again, you're expected to return home, this time to pay tribute at your clan's ancestral grave site. Skirting your obligations here would be like skipping your grandmother's funeral to attend the San Daigo Comic Con. Comiket always draws heat for the graphic content of the goods on sale, but a more fundamental conservative activist would be up in arms about how the timing of the events themselves rebuke traditional family values.

Interestingly, despite these factors (and the unbearable heat), Summer Comiket regularly attracts more visitors than Winter Comiket as you can see here.

While missing out on the occasional family function is probably a non-issue for progressive parents, the fact remains that over half of Tokyoites are originally from outside the megaregion.

To put this into perspective: America has Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's (as well as the Forth of July if you're willing to stretch the definition) earmarked for family gatherings. Conversely, Japan has local festivals throughout the year, but summer O-Bon and New Year's are the only holidays long enough for scattered relatives to realistically get together. It's one thing to forget a birthday or fall off the map for a while—To break tradition for the sake of your hobby is significantly more difficult to explain away.

Attending Comiket doesn't automatically make you a wayward son, but it adds another intangible cost to being an otaku and tests your dedication to the pursuit of leisure. We at TSB have no misgivings regarding our own position as outside observers and refrain from judging the hundreds of thousands who make the bi-annual pilgrimage. Rather, we hope to suggest the idea that there is more at stake here than merely braving the elements to get your hands on your favorite group's new dojinshi before they sell out.

But enough pontification: Check out the cosplay that kept us separated from our families this New Year's:

Gag


ZANGIEF WINS!


Just because Anno Hideaki died for your sins doesn't make it OK to masturbate to fourteen-year old damaged goods.


Crossplaying with a face mask is totally fair game in my book, but the fuzzy silk gloves cross the line.


Kabuki Quantum Fighter Gaiden?


ORIX Buffaloes mascot Buffalo Bell is here to prove that even professional sports are not beyond the lure of moeification.


This ingenuous Kuybey worked around the new "no sexy costume" rule. (Link NSFW.)


Daru was so in character that he rolled his shirt up over his gut before letting me snap him.


Chicken George was overjoyed to be recognized, much less be asked for a photo-op.


Moe Loli Bancho.

Serious


We avoided Madoka cosplay this round to avoid redundancy, but we're willing to make an exception for Walpurgis Night.


Tiger Mask takes a break from his secret Santa activities to address an adoring public.


Dennis Rodman as Fire Emblem.


Stay golden, Crystal Boy.


Another victim falls to the horde of otaku paparazzi zombies.


Godzilla brought his pit crew of makeup guys with him.

Fate/Zero


Winter Comiket gave us a bumper crop of impressive Berserker costumes, and this takes the prize with a real set of metal armor!


Between Zangief, Wild Tiger, and Rider, fake facial hair was all the rage this season.


The Assassin guild strikes a fearsome pose, moments before being crushed into paste.


It's a shame that the the most boring characters in the show are it's main female protagonists, especially because it means that many more people cosplaying them.


These two never fail to crack me up. Caster's eyeballs are actually carved out of baby femurs, not ping-pong balls as one would expect.

Full album here!

And that's it! Reports of falling attendance numbers were greatly exaggerated as there was no shortage of perverts and gawkers this time around. Our limited coverage can be attributed to familial and work-related responsibilities. We'll do our best to straighten out our priorities before Summer Comiket rolls around.