Inspired by this piece of auspicious reporting on Japan from venerable British news organization the BBC, we sent veteran Néojaponisme reporter Matt Alt out to the United States to see how the deteriorating economic situation is causing desperate Americans to pay cash for the companionship of their fellow man — or animal.

Don’t call him a rat! His name is Mikki, or “Mickey” as Americans pronounce it, and there’s no shortage of people willing to make this mouse’s acquaintance. In most cultures, mice are considered vermin, scourges of urban environments. But not here in America. They want to touch him, give him a big hug, and have their photograph taken by his side. Sometimes they come alone — other times, they bring their whole families. Many travel large distances and pay great sums for the privilege of a visit.

Mickey is the mascot of a uniquely American service called an “amusement park.” Disneyworld, as this one is called, is located in the state (prefecture) of Florida in America’s remote southeast. While inside the confines of this park, visitors pretend that friendly, human-sized animals like Mickey are their friends. His compatriots include giant ducks, dogs, and chipmunks, and in this subculture, no one considers them strange companions.

Bobby, who speaks with a lisp and just turned six years old, is normally rather shy with people. He longs for a “Mickey” of his own. But his mother will not allow a mouse in the house, making Disneyland the perfect solution to his problem.

Statistics for 2007 revealed that tens of millions of people felt compelled to stay in Disneyland, some never leaving the grounds for upwards of a week or more. And it’s only one of many parks in America that provide fantasy services for increasingly despondent American people.

Pay to Play USA

Of course American fantasies aren’t limited to mice and bunnies, as people who work in America’s sex industry will testify. The vast industry specializes in offering opportunities to exchange money for fantasy situations. Perhaps most common are so-called “escort services” that allow American men to rent a pretty woman who will pretend that she loves him. It’s an open secret that everyone from janitors to politicians make use of these services, though operators claim their numbers of clients have plummeted in this time of recession.

One specialty agency even rents women who dress up in furry costumes reminiscent of cartoon characters, although whether this involves seduction or merely heavy petting is not exactly clear.

A Desparate Plea for Help

Perhaps the clients of these Furries are attempting to relive the experience of visiting “amusement parks” in their youth. America’s sex experts seem to agree. “Is it any wonder,” asks syndicated columnist D.S., “that a tiny percentage of this Disney/abstinence generation came to fetishize the safe and cuddly stuffed animals of their childhoods?”

As we’ve seen, loneliness is a problem faced by many people in this spacious nation, with some American states boasting low population densities unthinkable here in Japan. The use of antidepressants among children grew tenfold between 1987 and 1996. It seems a sense of lonesomeness is a problem for many people in the land of the free and the brave.

In my first dispatch, I mentioned some negative comments about 100% Design Tokyo I had overheard in conversations, but I didn’t want to say too much until I had a chance to visit the event myself. My verdict? Certainly no worse than last year, and there are quite a few improvements that help make it a more enjoyable experience.

Now, I’m not going to comment on the business side of things — past years have seen independent designers complain about the high price associated with contracting a booth when compared to the effective return they felt they got from their involvement. And I still think that if you’re not in the industry, this is not necessarily the event for you, since the rest of TDW aims for more of a general audience. DesignTide tends to be more artistic, Tokyo Designer’s Week “Container” and “Student” exhibitions are more conceptual, and Swedish Style covers everything from graphics to fashion. 100% Design Tokyo is a commercial fair, and it does a good job as a commercial fair. Creating a dedicated space for all lighting companies (in a darkened corner of the grounds) was certainly a positive move, offering a better showcase for those products. And the Designboom-sponsored Mart and graphic art exhibitions made for a nice diversion from all the product pimping.

This year’s “Container” exhibition, always a popular attraction at the Jingu Gaien location, felt quite different — with the majority of containers playing host to collaborations between companies and Japanese design schools. This resulted in something that played out more like an extension to the “Student” exhibition (which was also presented in the same area). But in general, we didn’t get the slickness (or exercise in branding) of recent years, which is both good and bad. The Good: most installations had a pleasant organic vibe to them. The Bad: not everyone enjoys seeing what can sometimes amount to a glorified “school project.”

As in past years, a good amount of events gets spread throughout the city’s cafes, shops and galleries — mostly in Shibuya, Aoyama, and Harajuku. Although this makes TDW feel like it transforms the entire city for a week, I wonder how much of these smaller events get experienced. It would be interesting to see some figures on all “extension” exhibitions to find out if those spaces really do give the participating creator’s work the attention they hope to get.

And with that, exhausted beyond belief, we sign off on TDW 2007 (although Swedish Style-related events continue until November 8).

Here’s how my relationship with Pecha Kucha Night goes. I started going regularly around two years ago. After a few months of this, I started writing about it for various publications. Then, during last year’s Tokyo Design Week, I finally ended up doing a presentation myself, in order to promote a Swedish Style-related event I was producing (with my partner, Swedish graphic designer and event producer Jesper Larsson). The thing is, after that night of presenting, I never again made it to another one. It was if my yearlong love affair with the innovative event couldn’t withstand the eventual consummation — as the best (and worst) of scripted TV romances have proven again and again.

But Thursday, November 1, was to be the biggest Pecha Kucha Night in Tokyo ever, presented in collaboration with DesignTide. This edition of PKN traded the familiar underground surroundings of SuperDeluxe for a side section of Japan’s National Stadium (not far from the DesignTide main site), which offered an outdoor experience. (The covering thankfully never became necessary despite afternoon rains). Proud parents — Klein Dytham Architecture‘s Mark Dytham and Astrid Klein — were understandably beaming with joy, sharing news of the event’s epidemic-like growth (now in over 80 cities), as well as the release this week of a book commemorating the “movement” (sold at the appropriate price of 2020 yen.) As is the norm, chaos was a constant companion — Jesper, who produces a PKN in his home city of Gothenburg, Sweden — was suddenly paired a few days ago for a brand new “ping pong presentation” with the organizer of the San Francisco edition, who seemed to be completely absent until the very moment the names were called…

I don’t have any exact numbers, but guessing from the crowd that gathered — the place was packed even before Dytham and Klein hit the stage — I wouldn’t be surprised if it was indeed the biggest ever PKN, just as advertised.

Update: Photos available here from photographer Jeremy Lanig.

Design has taken over the city, with Tokyo Designer’s Week, 100% Design Tokyo, DesignTide, and Swedish Style all staking claim to everyone’s event calendar until November 4 (the Swedes will continue their celebrations up to November 8). After attending Tuesday’s preview of DesignTide, it looks like things are off to a decent start. The Olympic stadium gymnasium is a perfect location, giving all of this year’s installations — and us attendees — a bit more breathing room. Multidisciplinary firm Assistant continues to transform the city’s cultural landscape, this time with outdoor signage and a massive installation that greets you as you enter the main site. Once inside, you either take a tour of the main Tide Exhibition, or head to the Tide Mart, where designers are eagerly waiting to sell their works. The DesignTide merch area is also worth a stop to pick up one of the ALPHABET Project black-on-white t-shirts — each letter designed by a different creator. I’ve got my eye on “S” by Satō Kashiwa.

It’s still too early to tell how this year’s Tokyo Design Week will compare to what we’ve seen in previous years, but it’s certainly off to a promising start. There are already some grumblings about 100% Design Tokyo — from participants about the treatment by organizers and from attendees about venue size — but for now I’ll reserve judgment and wait to see how the next few days pan out.