April 21 protest
(click here for the beginning of the story)
Election Day Eve in Japan is a totally festive atomosphere. Maybe because it is in spring? But perhaps 500 people were in front of the station, strolling and listening to politicians, drinking, and staying up late. Audaciously, Matsumoto-san set up a huge disco truck right in front of the station; you could hear it as soon as you stepped off the train. The event went from 4 pm to 8ish. DJs would play some music such as “I fought the law” or “I can’t get no satisfaction,” and then haltingly translate the title into Japanese between songs! Every 10 minutes or so , Matsumoto or one of his friends would get on the microphone and say a short speech, then dive into the crowd. At one point, there was a queue of people lined up to dive! Now that’s politics!!
(above, the candidate, and his train station. Kouenji, represent!!)
Meanwhile, across the street, the current district supervisor was endorsing a rival candidate and member of the “souka gakkai” party (the political wing of a sinister cult ? think Bhuddist scientology) and it turned into sort of a volume war for awhile, but we outlasted them. A band called HAPPENING played a short set of melodic 1-4-5 ‘70s punk.
(note the leg in the corner. i swear that dude did not touch the ground until the event was over)
After that, these guys in Zapatista masks and pink panther t-shirts (best fashion idea ever?) played dance music that they sampled on the fly, making loops as they went! They got all super technological with it, even sampling Matsumoto and mixing his phrases in. 
this guy (below) was not only the best dancer, but he was smoking a cigarette THROUGH A FILTER MASK, while pretend-scratching ON AN OLD ROTARY PHONE. he is my hero and will soon be yours.
after 8pm, the loudspeakers were put away, and everyone moved to an island in the center of the nearby taxi-rotary, where people continued to drink until midnight. 
Oddly, out of this batch of misfits, dropouts, losers, homeless, and goofballs, it was a “regular guy” salariman that passed out and got in trouble. 
My friend was trying to help him wake up, sit up straight, and get home, but he kept straight-up trying to kiss her.
She spent an hour with him, and in between vomiting what looked like beets and taking mini-coma naps, he related the following tale: he lost his wallet, has no wife, no money to get home, and is taking care of his 80 year old grandmother. I was starting to feel really bad for him when he reached up my pal’s skirt. She was standing in a puddle of his vivid purple vomit, steadfastly denying she was drunk. It was that kind of evening.
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