I know this is totally off topic, but much of the blame credit for the development of my warped unique sense of humor lies with George Carlin. May he rest in peace.

This familiar scene on Japanese trains appears innocent enough. But it’s not, according to the An Englishman in Osaka blog. Because one of these salarymen is actually dead.

That’s right, on their way home one of these guys drifted into a light sleep before passing peacefully away, moving on to that great office in the sky (where 20-hour working days are the norm).

But, which one? The Englishman in Osaka means to disclose the answer soon–but in the meantime, if you don’t cheat, we can play too! It’s actually kind of hard to say — they all look dead to the world, although I guess one of them is a bit more so.

However, as one of the commenters justly notes (all the comments are pretty amusing): “Dying while sleeping on the train sure beats dying while jumping in front of it. “

After a lifetime of celebrated monkey business, Mainichi Daily News reported with regret that Choromatsu the Japanese monkey, made famous 20 years ago in a Sony headphone commercial, died of old age in Kumamoto Prefecture on Sunday. In its obituary, the daily stated that:

After retiring from entertainment activities in 1990, Choromatsu often enjoyed his favorite past-time of basking in the sun, according to a group of monkey showmen in Yamaguchi Prefecture, which kept Choromatsu. In the famous TV commercial, Choromatsu listened to music while closing his eyes. Sources said that Choromatsu closed his eyes during the filming of the commercial because he was tired and happened to doze off.

Apparently, 29 monkey-years is equivalent to about 100 years old for humans which is 21.7 dog-years, so Choromatsu had a good run. In fact, if he had been a dog instead of a monkey he would have been 417 years old in human terms at the time of his decease. Or maybe that’s wrong. It would have been different anyway.

Disclosure: For any readers amazed by our easy facility with translating effortlessly into dog-years, there is a calculator at http://www.onlineconversion.com/dogyears.htm.

In very sad news, Momofuku Ando, the man who invented instant ramen and founded Nissin Foods, died Friday in Osaka Prefecture of heart failure at 96 years of age. As all will agree, his creation truly is a miracle food, initially invented primarily to save the world:

Ando was inspired to develop the instant noodle after coming upon a long line of people on a cold night shortly after World War II waiting to buy freshly made ramen at a black market food stall, according to Nissin. The experience convinced him that “Peace will come to the world when the people have enough to eat.”

The source and a Wikipedia article have pictures and further information about the great man and his miracle product. Another Wikipedia article on the Maruchan company draws attention to the longstanding rivalry between the two noodle makers and their dedicated customers, noting that “Proponents of Maruchan insist that the company produces a wider array of flavors, and offers more cost friendly 6-packs.” That may be, but they’re still inferior (or just about the same–one or the other…).

Via Boing Boing, Photo: theOtaku

His name will live on in the historybooks of Japanese cinema. Akio Jissoji, a special effects filmmaker who directed the popular television series “Ultraman”, died of stomach cancer Wednesday. He was 69 years old.

 Jissoji was born in Tokyo, Japan and directed several cult classics such as 1998’s “Teito Monogatari” (doomed metropolis) and the 1970 classic “Mujo” (Transient Life). The film won the grand prix at the Locarno Film Festival.

Jissoji once worked for Tokyo Broadcasting Systems but quit to start his own production company. He directed operas and even wrote books such as the world famous “Ultraman Tanjo” (birth of Ultraman).

It doesn’t matter if your an Ultraman fan or not. Myself, I tend to be more of a Godzilla fan. But remembering the masters who came before us and their legacy is important. It is because of people like Jissoji and the imagination he brought that Japanese culture has been so prevelant in the world. And so for that, please allow me to say “Thank you. Thank you for sharing”.

By now most people have heard the news that Iva Toguri D’Aquino, also known as “Tokyo Rose,” has passed away at the age of 90.

I met Ms. Toguri D’Aquino a number of times down in Chicago’s Little Tokyo many years ago, and she seemed like a nice woman.

Japundit reader and U.S.-based Japanese workworker Len Cullum kindly sent along a link to a site that tells the Tokyo Rose story, and suggests that Ms. Toguri D’Aquino may actually have been victim of a post-war witch hunt.

You’ve probably never heard of Iva Toguri and, if you have any association with the name “Orphan Ann” at all, it’s probably to the Little Orphan Annie comic strip. On the other hand, you probably have heard of “Tokyo Rose” and think you know all about her: the sultry, Japanese radio propagandist who taunted “our boys” in the Pacific during World War II.

You’re in good company, too. When National Geographic interviewed Trinh (“Hanoi Hannah”) Thi Ngo on the 20th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War, it compared her anti-American broadcasts to the “Tokyo Rose” program. The problem is that there never was anyone called “Tokyo Rose” on Radio Tokyo or any of its subsidiaries. She, like “Kilroy,” is a myth based on the frustrations and fears of young men waging war in difficult circumstances far away from their homes.

There were Japanese women broadcasters, over a dozen of them, and a few of them, most notably Foumy (“Madame Tojo”) Saisho and Myrtle (“Little Margie”) Lipton, even broadcast along the lines attributed to “Tokyo Rose;” but no such person ever really existed.

This wouldn’t be much of a problem as problems go, were it not for the fact that a real person was unjustly arrested, tried, convicted, fined, and imprisoned for broadcasting as “Tokyo Rose;” a real person who, by rights, should have been hailed as an American hero and, to the day she died, remained one of the most loyal Americans I have ever known.

Frank Gibney, a former reporter and editor at Newsweek magazine, reported for many years from and about Japan. He recently passed away at age 81, with Newsweek carrying this brief note:

Gibney dedicated his life to bridging the gap between East Asia and the United States.

He was one of the few military officers trained to speak Japanese in WWII, and later wrote and edited several books on Japan and Asia. Gibney also worked as a speechwriter for US President Lyndon Johnson. He was once described in [Newsweek] as a “man almost constantly in motion.”

Rest in peace, Frank Gibney.

The Japan baseball world today mourned the passing of Akira Ogi, a truly unique character and one of the most lauded managers the game over here has ever known.

Ogi first gained recognition as a skipper back in 1988 when he took over the Kintetsu Buffalos who were just coming off a season in which they won only 52 games in a 130-game schedule. Under Ogi, the team improved to second place in 1988 and then took the pennant in 1989, only to lose the Japan Series to the Yomiuri Giants after winning the first three games.

Then in 1990, the Buffalos picked up a young rookie right-hander with a strange windup who everyone thought would never make it in the Japan Bigs. Ogi was wise enough to give the young man some room, and Hideo Nomo went on to an 18-win rookie season in which he struck out 287 batters in a mere 235 innings.

When Ogi retired from the Buffs in 1992, his replacement (Keishi Suzuki) pushed Nomo to adopt a more traditional wind up to the point that Nomo finally got fed up. In 1995 he jumped the pond and joined the Los Angeles Dodgers, becoming the first of what was soon to become a flood of Japanese players wishing to test their skills against the best.

Ogi was talked back into a managing job in 1994 with the Orix Blue Wave. The outgoing manager, Shozo Doi, was having a hard time with a young man on the team who was stubbornly resisting efforts aimed at changing his unorthodox batting form. Doi was known to have remarked that the young player “would never hit with that batting style.” Again, Ogi gave a player the chance to prove himself on his own terms, and Ichiro Suzuki stroked 210 hits in 1994, rewriting the Japan professional baseball record books and earning the first of his seven straight batting titles.

In addition to Nomo and Ichiro, Ogi also played an important role in the development of So Taguchi of the St. Louis Cardinals, and Masato Yoshii formerly of the New York Mets, both of whom could hardly fight back the tears during interviews I saw on TV today.

Today, Japanese baseball lost one of its greatest managers ever.

For more details about Ogi’s career, visit Japan Baseball Daily.

Pat Morita, whose birth name was Noriyuki Morita, has gone to the Great Beyond, age 73.

An American actor who became famous for his Karate Kid movies and who also helped change perceptions of Japanese-Americans in Hollywood, Morita’s show business career began in the 1960s when he was 30 years old. As a stand-up comedian, Morita, the California-born son of Japanese immigrants, billed himself at first as the “Hip Nip.” He told a reporter in 1967: “‘Hip Nip’ just sounds groovy. A drummer laid it on me.”

Read the full obituary here.

Ralph Macchio, who played Daniel in the Karate Kid movies, said of Morita’s death: “Forever My Sensei.”