The Kink Kronikles
NAMERIKAWA, TOYAMA-KEN, JAPAN
Listening to: Alkaline Trio, Good Mourning

e're in the plane over the Pacific; it's about three in the morning but my body thinks it's early evening. Maybe it's the other way around. I'm not sure. It's part of why I hate these east Asia trips. I also don't like the compactness of the Japanese culture or the way I always expect an errant breeze to knock South Korea into an absolute hellbound tailspin. I know it doesn't quite make sense. Before the first time I visited Japan I always figured I'd love it. The technology and unboundedly visceral entertainment were everything I wanted in a culture. Also, I like ninjas. Something just didn't click, though. I guess there's still more Americanism in me than I'd like to admit.

A few weeks ago, some old friend of Hoffmaster's sent him the URL for a blog called "Autoerrata," where one of the first posts he saw was about a home-based game developer called Hoshitoyo Shiro. Hoshitoyo had been part of Honda's robotics team for years before he decided he'd had enough and retired early. Really odd guy and not at all what I expected based on my limited interaction with Japanese company men.

What caught Hoffmaster's eye was a reference to Dance Dance Revolution, with which he had been briefly but thoroughly obsessed in 2001. The post said Hoshitoyo had been so inspired by DDR that he unretired and turned himself into a game firm.

For those not up on their non-traditional video game knowledge, Dance Dance Revolution is an arcade (and high-end home system) game in which players dance along to moves directed by the screen. It's kind of like a foot-activated Simon, actually, in that you have four buttons to hit with your feet and a specific pattern in which you must hit them. It ranges from pretty easy to unbelievably difficult, and it's always a blast to watch; every machine I've ever seen has had a crowd around it, most of whom were watching rather than waiting to play. DDR had given Hoshitoyo all sorts of ideas, but the first he worked on was the biggest and was the one that got Hoffmaster, myself and the advance team to Toyama-ken as soon as we could get away.

Hoshitoyo had a working prototype of what we immediately began calling Fuck Fuck Revolution.

I don't have a lot of experience with sex toys, but I think I can safely say that this contraption was unlike anything that had ever been sold next to desensitizing cream and penis-shaped erasers. Essentially, it was one part sex swing, one part interactive porno, one part Twister. It had a screen, just an off-the-shelf computer monitor, on which a selection of sex positions and movements would be displayed, ala The Kama Sutra; the participants would then mimic what was on-screen, a series of sensors and touchpads verifying what they had or hadn't done.

Oddly, despite everything I'd heard about the prevalence of weird fetishes in Japanese culture, this is the thing that appealed most to me out of all that I'd encountered in the far east. Granted, I'm single, but maybe having access to this prototype would make me stand out in the hectic dating scene; it would certainly be something to talk about if I ever did one of those speed-dating events.

Hoffmaster wasn't so sure. He was fascinated by it, of course, but he's had some bad experiences with Japanese sex toys in the past, and that shouldn't sound as bad as it does. He was involved in a deal to bring the infamous Hello Kitty vibrator to the States in large quantities, which fell apart after about a year's worth of false starts. And the less said about cabbage-flavored gummi aphrodisiac candies and Wal-Mart, the better.

So why are we out ¥550,000,000 and flying home with the virtual equivalent of the back seat of your parents' Buick? Jesus. The failure of Hoffmaster's Jesus exercise tapes is what ultimately pushed the decision to invest in Hoshitoyo's device.

Despite the budgetary crater that existed where Body and Soul once stood, Hoffmaster was still confident that the exercise market was ripe, and he'd bragged for months about the weight he lost when he was playing Dance Dance Revolution all the time. The evening after we saw the prototype we sat in a restaurant brainstorming possible sales and marketing avenues in America, when three magic words popped out of Hoffmaster's mouth: "Fuck yourself thin." We were all kind of stunned -- it seemed so obvious, and yet we'd been there for hours. We could design the position routines specifically with exercise in mind and advertise the thing in the Playboys, Cosmos and Maxims of the publishing world.

We jotted down some notes as the restaurant was getting ready to close, and Hoffmaster got on the phone to the producer of the Jesus exercise tapes. Back in the eastern U.S. it was still the previous morning. The guy took a lot of explaining to really get what Hoffmaster was going on about, and then some convincing that it was a legitimate idea. He didn't know if there was any way to put together an actual exercise regimen based on sex, but he said he'd give it a shot. After he hung up, Hoffmaster laughed at him for having made the first, obvious spotter joke.

This is definitely one of the weirdest things we've embarked upon since I've had this job and it's entirely possible that the machine, whatever it winds up being called, will simply become another conversation piece in Hoffmaster's office, but I don't think so. Hoshitoyo seemed very committed to getting it into the Japanese game market, and I know Hoffmaster's excited about it. As for me, I've already got my spot on the beta test list locked up.