Master of the Nagamaki
Do you think you’re a weeaboo? You think that just because you watched a couple episodes of JoJo’s and played a little Uma Musume you’re ready to go on a trip to Japan? I bet you’d love to go to Akihabara for the anime or Harajuku for the fashion, but you laymen just don’t get how deep the Japan rabbit hole goes. And without the genki to follow the treacherous path, you never will.
Most of you can never understand Nippon (Japan for the uncultured) the way I understand Nippon. From a young age, I studied Nihongo in school, way before any of you knew what wagyu Kobe beef even was. I went to judo classes every Saturday, shodo on Sunday, and played Shogun in between (before it was a video game, by the way). You and your Nezuko itabag mean nothing to me and my imported Taiga Aisaka dakimakura with matching bedsheets. You insult otaku culture by even associating your “merch” with my authentic goods.
With animanga’s rise in popularity all these gaijin can’t even comprehend the depth of culture they’re missing by not consuming it in the correct way. Subtitled anime was a mistake: now every dim-witted smooth-brain thinks the characters in my favorite anime are going on a date, when deito means something completely different in Nihongo! And don’t even get me started on matcha: if the Japanese in the medieval period could drink it without milk, so can you. I don’t care if the traditional way is “worse” and “hasn’t been used in 500 years”; you’re drinking it wrong and that’s all that matters.
Even my stupid coworker Dan keeps asking me about how to prepare for his “trip to Japan.” Baka gaijin! You can’t just take a “trip” to Japan! Japan is an experience for the mind, body, and soul. When I went on my pilgrimage to the holy land, I wept and leapt for joy as soon as I hit the tarmac, overcome with emotion. The utsukushi josei officer at customs asked me questions that made me, a foreigner, finally feel like I belonged.
The first Chuka soba shop I entered, I practically prostrated at the owner’s feet, begging sensei to allow me to taste his succulent noodles. The hikari of Tokyo astounded me — much more kira-kira and doki-doki than the streets of Los Angeles. Did you ever fathom that Nippon could be like that? I bet not!
You can’t “get into” Japanese culture by just watching anime or reading manga. The only way that you can get into Yamato nadeshiko is by living like a true Japanese person — wearing a kimono 24/7 and drinking bitter hojicha. You’ve got a long way to go if you want to be an S-tier supasutaa Nippon-enjoyer like me. I suggest you give up now, kouhai.
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