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Merry Christmas, Mr Abe

Over the past few weeks, I've been talking to politicians, journalists and diplomats about the character and personality of Shinzo Abe (pictured left), the man who is now certain to be the next prime minister of Japan. You might expect that there would be a fairly clear consensus by now about what kind of a national leader he is likely to turn out to be.- given Abe's overwhelming support in the Liberal Democratic Party, the length of time (a couple of years, at least?) that he has been heir apparent, and the sheer importance of the job.

Quite the opposite. Opinions are polarised into two contradictory views, and I can't make up my mind which is right.

It's fairly clear that, in terms of his personal beliefs, especially those relating to China and to the war, Abe will be the most right wing Japanese prime minister since Yasuhiro Nakasone. If he faced no other constraints, he would pray at Yasukuni Shrine (probably three times a year, at the spring and autumn festivals, as well as on 15 August). He would extend diplomatic recognition to Taiwan (his LDP rival, Taro Kono, told me that the problem with Abe is not that he is pro-Yasukuni, but that he is so pro-Taiwan). He would abolish Article 9 of the Constitution (the "peace article"), and promote "patriotic" education, respect for flag, national anthem etc.

Watashi wa minai. Watashi wa ... kawanai*

One of the pleasures of Japanese cinemas, apart from the deep comfy seats, the abundant booze and Ladies' Night (females pay just Y1000 on the first Wednesday of the month) is the world's most hyperbolic public information broadcast. It begins with the face of a young Japanese woman who looks as if she has just received extremely bad news - perhaps her chihuahua has died, or the Japanese football team has lost one-nil to Saudi Arabia or, at the very least, her husband has run off with a member of Morning Musume.

Doomy music is playing. Tears began to roll down her bonny cheeks. And - horror of horrors - they are black!

Help! Gurgle!

Screams from the threshold of womanhood

This has been around for a while, but it's new to me, and it is hilarious - at least as good as the all-singing, all-dancing members of the Martitime Self Defence Forces.

First, a little background. Morning Musume, as anyone who lives outside Japan has no good reason to know, are one of the country's most successful, and most unashamedly talentless, pop bands. They are the creation of a musical Svengali named Tsunku who found the original line up on a TV teenage talent show in 1997. Since then the band (musume means 'daughter' or 'girl') has been staffed by a changing roster of about a dozen all-singing, all-dancing, maximally irritating teenyboppers.

They can't dance. They can't sing. They can barely speak, communicating principally through squeaks. They are the embodiment of the Japanese concept of 'cuteness' and they frequently give the impression of being on every Japanese TV program, on every channel, all the time. Horrid American journalese words like 'toothsome' and 'sassy' were invented for chicks like these. They are unspeakable.

The second thing you need to know is that Ringu is a rather effective, definitely scary Japanese horror film directed by Hideo Nakata in 1998 from a novel by Koji Suzuki. (It was remade in Hollywood in 2002, starring Naomi Watts.)

Someone had the idea of forcing Morning Musume to watch the scariest moments from Ringu.

That's it.

Here is the result.