I can’t say I have the greatest memory in the world (it took me most of my formative years to learn the alphabet. Longer to learn love). In fact, most everything I do should be forgotten. But, wait, what was I doing?
I think we have all asked ourselves this question at least once – am I gay? This is usually followed by imagining various naked specimens of our species and calculating how aroused, ie. hard/wet, we are. For more promiscuous individuals, experimentation takes place either after a drunken night or for an awesome T-shit and a necklace beads. For most of us this is just a passing concern and we move on with our lives, never telling another living soul the ordeal we just went through.
What does this have to do with being an Otaku? Not much, except as a loose and shoddily concocted analogy. That still doesn’t make a lick of sense.
Let’s look at the definition of otaku before moving on, shall we? Merriam-Webster has it as “a person who is obsessed with anime, manga, and Japanese culture in general.” The 56th definition of the word on the definitive online resource Urban Dictionary has it as “teh deliciously kickass wife of nero.” The former indicates an unhealthy fixation on drawn images of junior high school girls in various levels of undress. The latter, with perfect grammar, indicating you’re the wife of an Emperor that burnt a fuck ton of Christian babies alive. You’re deliciously kickass, though, for what that’s worth.
Either way, it’s slightly unflattering.
So, how can you tell whether or not you’re an Otaku? By taking this painstakingly crafted, scientifically proven quiz of course! Or just go outside and play a sport or hit a pub and get pissed.
Remember, read through the quiz before answering!
Question the first!
If you had to describe your character, would you:
- A) Defer the description to an anime/manga protagonist, and how you’d so “totally master the same jutsus.”
- B) You would refer to a movie /TV or book character, only occasionally referring to anime.
- C) Refer to a historical figure and how you’d “totally end the Civil War if [you] had the chance.” And you’d do it with Ichigo’s haircut, because it’s cool and not because you know who Kurosaki Ichig…
- D) Actually describe personality traits and net income.
Question the one after the first!
What would be the trait most desirable in your sexual partner:
- A) He/she would be a mega-kawaii mega-tsundere. And mahou. If you chose this, you already know what those mean.
- B) A lifeless, soulless, though still huggable sex doll/life size moe pillow/VCR player. That you can fuck.
- C) She can’t be assertive, because you fear strong, independent women. Someone like Bella from the Twilight series would be nice. Only pretty.
- D) You’d settle for smart and funny, and a superb knowledge of great wines.
Question the thrice!
Where would you like to go on your honeymoon if you could go anywhere?
- A) Obviously a trip to Konoha, with a pit stop at the Grandline on your way home.
- B) Akihabara, with a side of maid and imouto cafes. An actual wife is optional.
- C) A trip East. Japan is an option. Maybe a manga shop, if there’s time. And a maid cafe…just to, like, say I’ve done it.
- D) Hawaii, and then backpack through Europe. Really live the world, y’know?
Question the 4th!
What is your usual go to wardrobe?
- A) An exact replica Asuka plug suit, despite me being a 320 pound male.
- B) Just my super wicked awesome Haruhi fanny pack and soooo ironic “Shinji is Cool” T-shirt.
- C) Jeans, jacket and maybe a relatively non-descript T-shirt that may or may not have Naruto images on it.
- D) Whatever the people in The Real World are wearing.
Question the something or other!
How would you battle evil cyborg ninjas that just kidnapped your 2 month old puppy?
- A) You would create a fully functioning Gundam (or just steal the one they made in Tokyo and pimp that shit out), and tear the world asunder looking for Ayanami-chan.
- B) You would so open a can of whoop ass only hundreds of hours of Dragonball and Hunter X Hunter can teach.
- C) Try to trade that collection of animated features (like, totally not anime).
- D) Call the fucking cops. I mean, evil cyborg ninjas just took your new pure-bred toy poodle! That thing cost you eight large!
Question the ninth!
If you only had three days to live, what’s #1 on your bucket list?
- A) You would molest Hayao Miyazaki and profess your hidden pedophilic tendencies. Nobody is surprised.
- B) Sneak into aforementioned Gundam in Japan and do nasty, filthy things inside.
- C) Admit you may have watched an anime or forty, and cry into your life-sized moe pillow.
- D) Air balloon. Around the world! Though unfortunately you die only three days into your trip.
Question the eixinth!
Of these phrases, which would best describe YOU?
- A) Urusai!
- B) Kakkoi!
- C) I swear, I’m not that into this stuff.
- D) Turtlenecks are fashionable and utilitarian!
Question the I never learned to count!
Who would you rather “do” – Suzumiya Haruhi, Ayanami Rei, or Ponyo.
- A) Ponyo. In a heartbeat. Over and over and over again.
- B) Tough, but you’d definitely go with Rei. Her emotionless features underlay a warmth not many see.
- C) Well, if you had to choose, I guess Haruhi. Again, if those are the choices.
- D) They’re cartoons, fer Chrissakes! You’d much rather “do” cocaine and prostitutes.
Well, how did you do?
- If you mainly chose A, you are not only an Otaku, you have some serious mental health issues and are probably a registered sex offender. Or one waiting to happen. Look out your window. Do you see a preschool? Yeah? Do you feel tingly? Like, down there? Yeah, you should get some help. Or castrated.
- If you mainly chose B, you are the very definition of Otaku. Or at least the one from Merriam-Webster. Well, unless you really were married to Nero and were, like, awesome. Chances of reproduction are solely dependent on how many female otakus near you who would prefer male companionship over reading male on male yayoi.
- If you mainly chose C, you’re more or less normal, but you have to let the cat out of the bag. You are a closeted-Otaku. Now, you may be able to live your life happily, but is it true happiness when you’re rushing your Miyazaki Collectors DVDs into secret compartments before you have company over? Or feel the wrath of Catholic-level guilt every time you beat off to tentacle hentai? Give in! You’ll feel better after you do.
- If you mainly chose D, congratulations! You’re not an Otaku! Instead you’re just any other of the countless millions of pretentious yuppies infesting the world, drunk on reality TV while pretending you’re more important than the very thing you’re watching and deriving pleasure out of. In short, you are a douchebag.
Well, hey, you may be saying to yourself, “bullshit, there’s no way to win this!” Wrong again. The correct choice from the beginning is to have read through the entirety of the quiz before answering, like I told you to, reach this point and realize you dodged a bullet. The only correct way to finish an Otaku quiz is to not take one at all and live your life, you god damned conformist.
Aaaaand I’m back. In a way. After not checking in on the site for a good 8 freaking months, I’ve noticed I’m STILL getting just as many visitors now as when I was updating everyday. Which just goes to show I really shouldn’t have tried so hard to begin with. Apparently no work is just as good as half-assed work.
Which works for me! And provides a fantastic moral for my future grandchildren.
But now that I’m finally settled into a new rythm in a foreign land (the exotic and erotically dangerous Japan. Or as the natives call it, “Bukkake”) I figured I have nothing better to do in my free time, other then crying and being lonely, so why not start this entire enterprise up again? This soul saddeningly unprofitable enterprise.
I can’t guarantee the same standards as before but I assure everyone tha…who am I kidding? There weren’t any fucking standards to begin with. So, to get the ball rolling, here’s five facts I’ve learned about my new home, Bukkake. But I’ll use Japan for my fellow gaijins out there.
1. Being awesome, made easy!
Apparently everything will impress a Japanese person. I use chopsticks and everyone goes, “sugoi!” Which means, “bear my children.” Or something similar. I say “arigatou” and everyone swoons over my mastery of their language. I later learned “arigatou” actually means “thank you” and not “where are your cheapest prostitutes”, but that’s neither here nor there.
I tell of my magical homeland of Canada and our great, umm, trees and flat land and stuff and I’m practically made the new Ambassador of Awesome. Hell, I took a dump at a public restroom and they made a TV show called Tokyo Dogs out of it. And trust me, they painstakingly recreated my shit through that show. Man, it’s shitty.
So I’m telling you, go to Japan and just do whatever the hell you want. Want to smack that homeless dude? Do it! Rob a sushi cart? Right on. Take candy from a baby? Go…well, not a lot of babies in Japan anymore, but I’m willing to bet you could. Not only will you not be arrested and deported, stories of your awesomeness will be told of through their oral tradition for centuries to come. I’m telling you!
2. To there and back again. Eventually.
Japanese roads are messed up. For all the wonders that Japan has given the world, from Nintendo to octopus pornography, they still don’t understand the concept of city planning. The roads are, for lack of a wittier analogy, like Amy Winehouse’s face – you don’t know what the fuck is up with it. I’m about 250 km away from Tokyo, and if this were any other country, that’s a 20 minute drive. Probably.
Here? I left in December and I’m still on the road. Hell, I think I made a wrong turn back in Narnia and now I’m somewhere called “New Jersey” and it’s fucking horrible. All I wanted was to go to a maid cafe, where I can be treated like a real man (you know, by average looking girls dressed in bright frilly costumes pretending to like you. As nature intended).
Instead, I got this:
3. English, motherfucker. Do you speak it?
Apparently my Anglo-centric worldview was a tad off kilter. Apparently not everywhere in the world speaks perfect Canadian English, the most stoic of all Englishes (Englii?). Apparently Japan in particular speaks something called “Japanese”. At first I called the person who told me this, my fellow coworker Obata-san, a dirty Satan fucking liar. But then I realized everyone around me WAS speaking non-English. It was like I got sent into the Twilight Zone and ended up in a land of humanoid llamas. Or something. Also apparent was the fact that I was here to be an English teacher. How the hell did that happen? The only English I’ve ever taught in my life was to get my little brothers and sister to say “cunt”.
Life works in mysterious ways, eh?
After discovering the existence of this new language, I claimed it as Bukkakanese outside of Japan’s borders. That’s copyrighted by the way, so step the fuck off Carlos Mencia. Then I discovered most everyone doesn’t know what the hell I’m saying when I’m screaming into a crying clerks face for ten minutes. All I wanted to know was where the celery sticks were. I even tried the universally accepted method of speaking English loudly, slowly and more patronizingly. No go. I think she may have had downs syndrome or something.
She then commited harakiri in shame. That was awkward. And I didn’t find out where the celery was.
4. Can I have a side of stroke with that?
In a land of such petite inhabitants, you’d think they’d also eat petite, pussified food. Well, you’d be right. I ‘medium’ drink here is about a midget American small, AKA how much little Donny sweats walking nine and a half feet down hill. Everything’s exceedingly small except when it comes to fast food burgers, which they love. If ever you thought Americans were the only people gorging themselves to a greasy, acne masked early death, you haven’t seen these Japanese exclusive burgers yet:
5. Who needs LSD when you’re shooting up pure Japan?
Have you ever heard the stereotype that Japan is a weird and colorful land of strangeness? Well, it’s all true. Every single last word of it is true. Absolutely so. It’s just like you imagined. In fact, the real thing is so depravedly sordid that your imagination had a hernia picturing it. I hardened myself before arriving at the onslaught of geekdom that would surely fuck my face once I step foot on Japanese soil. Like a facehugger from Aliens. Only kawaii.
My preparations failed.