Kitty No

Many years ago, before most of us were even born, the nation of Japan attacked the United States.  This did not end well.  Since that conflict, however, relations between the two countries have actually been pretty solid, and much of this cooperation has been due to the relatively fluid cross pollination of our cultures.  Unfortunately, this may soon change.

In case you have not heard by now, Hello Kitty, the adorable little anthropomorphic cartoon character created by the Japanese toy company Sanrio, is not a cat.  If you know what Hello Kitty looks like, this revelation is a bit shocking.  After all, Hello Kitty has whiskers.  She has pointy ears.  Her name has the word “Kitty” in it.  However, according to a recent Los Angeles Times article written by Carolina M. Miranda, Sanrio insists that, “Hello Kitty is… a cartoon character. She is a little girl. She is a friend. But she is not a cat. She's never depicted on all fours. She walks and sits like a two-legged creature. She does have a pet cat of her own, however, and it's called Charmmy Kitty."

On the surface this declaration might seem merely bizarre and repetitive. Unfortunately, this is not an isolated event.  Taken into context, Sanrio’s revelation is merely the latest in a decades-long plot designed to confuse the western world in general and the United States in particular.  The empire of Japan may very well have surrendered on September 2, 1945, but clearly they did not give up.  Their counter cultural attack was almost immediate, and it found its form in that of a giant fire-breathing lizard.

When Godzilla first lurched out of the sea sixty years ago, anyone could immediately tell that he was a villain.  After all, Godzilla is basically a huge radioactive dinosaur.  He smashed buildings and burned stuff with fire.  No one could mistake this monstrosity for anything besides what it was:  a giant insane monster.

Except what happens when one monster that looks like a giant lizard fights another monster that looks, perhaps, like a giant cockroach?  Now who is the villain?  Giant lizards, after all, have four limbs.  Humans have four limbs.  Cockroaches, however, have six.  Confusing, isn’t it?  Who is the bad guy?  Who are we to trust?  The subliminal, mind-scrambling, fire-breathing message?  Beware, world, for nothing is what it seems!  Your worst enemy, in fact, may be you!

The second cultural salvo came in much smaller packaging:  video games.  Granted, the earliest video games were technically created in the U.S., but we all know which country gave them menace.   They started out subtle and rather dull, but within a generation video games were being blamed for everything from teenage violence to childhood obesity.  Once again, though, perhaps the most damning aspect is the message that video games have now embedded into our increasingly mushy minds:  socializing with real humans is a waste of time.  Granted, some video games do allow the so-called “multi-player” option, but let’s face facts.  What are these “multi-players” usually doing? That’s right.  Shooting each other in the multi-face.

For the most part, their message has been clear.  The only thing that matters is how far you can get, all by yourself, in the video game. While Godzilla confused us, video games isolated us.

Voltron and other similarly clad giant robots came next, combining the angry girth of the initial attack with the high-tech sneakiness of the second.  Now, before continuing, I must admit that I loved Voltron when I was a kid.  Voltron was awesome.  Some of you may think you are unfamiliar with Voltron, but surely you are familiar with the basic concept.  Five animal robots would combine to form a giant humanoid robot capable of being controlled by both the guy sitting in the brain and the folks still hanging out in the robot’s extremities.  Weird, yes, but also cool.

I played with these crazy robots for hour and hours, and one might assume that the obvious message behind this toy—that by working together we can cut giant aliens in two with a huge laser sword—is a fairly positive one.  Juxtaposed, however, alongside the video game phenomena, we are left with a curious dilemma.

On one hand we have been led to believe that healthy social interaction is a bad idea.  Real relationships are complicated and often end up literally smelling bad.  On the other hand, however, we have also been taught that the only possible way to save the world is by putting aside our differences and cliché dialogue long enough to form a cohesive team of karate experts.  Once we combine all this confusion with a cultural landscape littered with fast food restaurants and angry talk radio, one might wonder how it is that America is even still functioning at all.

            In the end it seems we are left with more questions than answers.  Has our former enemy-turned- ally transformed itself, pun intended, back into our enemy? In the increasingly homogenized neighborhood we call Earth, has Japan become the little kid across the street we once thought was OK to have our kids hang out with?  Most importantly, should someone point out to this neighbor that their expressionless “little girl” has whiskers and pointed ears?

            None of these questions can be answered, of course, in an unnecessarily wordy column.  Only time will tell.  In the meantime, as we approach the holiday season and our thoughts turn to happy little children opening presents on Christmas morning, let us not spoil their joy by informing them of their friend’s pedigree.  Let them live, if only for a short while longer, in a world where Hello Kitty is a real cat, in the same world where a talking mouse can have a pet dog.