The Political Cars of Japan
They’re loud, they come out before 8am and they suck.
About a week ago, just before 8am. I’m in bed. Faintly aware of a women’s voice I get up and put the kettle on. I open the window and light up a cigarette. Tea now in hand I stare at the car-park outside my apartment. It’s raining and life is shit. Slowly, a van creeps into my vision. Is it Father Christmas? God? Some sort of miraculous solution to all my problems? No, it’s a fucking political van. As they crawl down the road , 4 women in seats look up at me and wave, smiling. Tea and fag in hand I meet their gaze. My feelings about them are communicated. They move on.
It’s such an assault on the senses when the senses haven’t even had a coffee. The polite language is screamed in your face. These people have crawled out from the woodwork to suddenly tell people they need to care about the government. I’ve never seen them before and I won’t again, until the next election. Maybe they keep them inside the vans, in a special garage. I’d like to believe they’re robots, because I don’t believe in their faux-passion for a second. And it seems like nobody else does either, voter turnout in Japan is very low.
Japan can’t do politics like the West and this is good and bad. Trump V Clinton was the most immature, farcical competition we’ve ever seen. Brexit ?The ultimate case study in how not to educate a population. But what both of these cluster-fucks weren’t lacking is passion. And I’m not just saying that people died because, Christ, actual people died. I’m saying people cared about it.
The general Japanese population couldn’t care less about Politics, and showing passion in public is practically a crime. It’s a beige alert, all day, every day. So when these pumped-up vans with their outrageous megaphones come thundering down the street, it’s jarring. Thankfully after tomorrow, everyone will piss off.