End of the Century Kichiku Ramblings ★ A Mental Revolution for Criminals by Murasaki Hyakuro

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WARNING

The following text features mentions of misogyny, anal sex, and violence. Keep in mind that Murasaki Hyakuro was mentally ill (though that does not excuse his actions) so his writings may be disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised. For a critical analysis of this article, please scroll to the bottom of the page.

–Article by Murasaki Hyakuro. Originally published in Dangerous Issue No. 28 (1999) by Datahouse.

End of the Century Kichiku Ramblings ★ A Mental Revolution for Criminals by Murasaki Hyakuro

Just reading this will rot your soul! Kichiku Lectures for Becoming a Kichiku Elite, Part 1

How to Survive the Chaotic End of the Century

Yo, readers! I’m Murasaki Hyakuro, Japan’s absolute worst, most deranged kichiku writer!

As the title suggests, this series is a truly generous project of mine offering free, no-donation-required guidance on how to survive the corrupt, chaotic end of the century in Japan–strongly, resiliently, and enjoyably. If you take my words seriously, abandon your conscience, and thoroughly rot your soul, a glorious future–utterly slimy, thoroughly decayed, and reeking of rot–will surely be yours. If that sounds unpleasant, please tear up this page and flush it down the toilet.

Now then, you rot-hungry scum readers, welcome to the world of the devil!

★ In this rotten world, the first to become rotten to the core wins.

Let’s start with situational analysis. The ability to instantly grasp what state things are in is an essential condition for survival.

Yeah, I’ll admit it. When I was a teenager, I shoplifted from a local supermarket. After leaving the store with stolen goods that night, I was walking home when I noticed someone following me. Instinctively, I darted into an alley and tossed the stolen goods (I think they were some women’s panties) over a random fence. As I emerged onto the main street, I was caught by a store clerk who’d been following me. They searched me and found nothing, so not only was I acquitted, but I ended up forcing the clerk to apologize. I think this kind of wild instinct is useful, not just for aspiring criminals.

Now, I’ve been stealing underwear since I was ten, so I’ve honed that instinct. Not that I’m bragging, but theft seems so simple on the surface. It’s actually quite complex. It’s a crime that requires a balanced mix of bold initiative, meticulous observation, and extreme caution. Dumbasses shouldn’t bother. Some idiot might try it and succeed through sheer luck, or even force himself on a young woman who happens to be in the house he’s breaking into, but he probably won’t last long.

When breaking and entering, you have to watch out for witnesses nearby. After stealing, don’t run straight home. Circle back, make sure nobody’s following you, then make your escape. Only once you’re in the safety of your own home can you relax, take a deep breath and savor the scent of your freshly-stolen panties, and fantasize while indulging in some intense anal masturbation. Nothing feels better than that.

…I’ve gone off on a tangent so let’s get back to the point. What I’m tryna say here is that situational analysis is incredibly important–whether you’re dealing with theft, arson, a battlefield, or life itself. If you fuck up, you could end up making a huge mistake.

So, let’s consider the situation we find ourselves in within modern-day Japan.

We live in a country that’s supposedly a democratic nation upholding a pacifist constitution. But wise readers like you surely understand that this is not actually the case. The economic bubble, which seemed to drive the entire nation mad, burst abruptly. The ensuing recession, dragging on like a nightmare to this day, has devastated the spirits of the people. The streets are rife with vicious scams, thefts, and violent crimes, resembling Sodom on the brink of divine punishment. Getting fleeced by the state with exorbitant taxes for doing nothing–or even just keeping quiet–is actually one of the few upsides. Before you know it, someone’s taken out insurance on you, altered your land registry, or if you’re unmarried, you’re suddenly officially wed to some chick from Southeast Asia. Your bank savings get withdrawn, and while they’re at it, they pull pants down and let some handsome older guy shove his dick all the way to the hilt up your ass, making you groan. The sheer pleasure is so intense you end up shooting your load. And then that cocky gay old man shoves his middle finger up to the second knuckle into your asshole, poking and prodding, stimulating your prostate so you can’t stop getting hard. Such unreasonable acts are everywhere these days.

It’s not just the real world that’s degenerating and corrupting before our eyes. In the realm of delusion, where countless denpa waves fly about, an unprecedented upheaval is occurring as we approach the end of the century. The sheer volume of denpa waves has been increasing lately. And it feels like the bulk of them are malicious, toxic waves designed to confuse and corrupt people’s minds.

This is likely due in part to the widespread adoption of the internet. The more toilets there are, the more shit gets flushed. While it’s undeniable that the internet amplifies and unleashes people’s dark desires, becoming a source of evil and powerful denpa waves, the sheer increase in these harmful waves cannot be explained by that alone.

These waves prey on human weaknesses, whispering all manner of things.

“You are the chosen one.”

“The entire town hates you.”

“Kill or be killed. Take a knife and go out into the street. The first elementary school girl you meet is the root of all evil, the boss of the organization trying to get you. She’s transmitting the order to kill you from the tip of the flute tucked into her backpack.”

Taking such thoughts seriously and acting on them leads to utterly tragic consequences. In last year’s random stabbing of an elementary school girl, the perpetrator was driven to commit the act after being terrorized by the words spoken to him by a poster of F*ruuchi T*uko.

“You are being targeted and hunted. If you don’t run, you will be killed.”

This is a classic case of fraud perpetrated by delusional individuals. All these voices can do is speak; they can do nothing more. But acting in accordance to their will is terrifying, because what is merely a case of fraud in the realm of delusion can escalate into a real-world random act of violence. Needless to say, the existence of such voices is thousands of times more dangerous than Dangerous Issue No. 28. Unfortunately, there are no laws or means in this world capable of countering the delusions brought on by these voices. The only way to fight malignant voices and delusions is to ignore them with sheer mental fortitude.

For this reason, there’s no doubt that we find ourselves in extremely dangerous territory today. Both the real world and the world of delusion are rife with scams and deception, making things truly dire.

The Aum Shinrikyo incident was terrible, but even as we approach the 21st century, spiritual scams continue to target us through evolving tactics. Last year, the tactics of the XX Association, which made headlines over a lawsuit, were laughable. Apparently they had this “purification ritual” where they’d smoke believers’ wads of cash to “cleanse” them. They’re in a mess now because they won’t return the money they took. No doubt that cash was used as the old hag cult leader’s pension. This country isn’t generous enough to pay pensions to useless old farts running fraudulent spiritual businesses. If they can’t get it from the state, swindling rich strangers out of big bucks is probably seen as the natural right of elderly folks worried about the future. But it’s shocking that even as we approach the 21st century, this unscientific spiritual scam business about spirits and the afterlife still runs rampant. Are there really that many fools who believe in the afterlife? I receive denpa transmissions of voices claiming to be spirits and I occasionally see ghosts, angels, and monsters, too. So lemme tell you this: there’s no such thing as the afterlife!

If you can’t recognize the delusions clinging to you as delusions, you’re shit outta luck. Personally, I’d rather prostitute myself than get scammed by psychic con artists who scare you into handing over cash. Actually, I’d rather not get ripped off either way.

So anyway (and I hate to say it myself, but I really do ramble on), deep down, everyone probably knows that this country isn’t exactly pure or peaceful. How do you live under these circumstances without getting scammed or killed?

Living a pure and righteous life is, in a sense, the ideal for a human being. Of that I’m absolutely certain. However, if you try to stick to that way of life in modern-day Japan, you’ll inevitably clash with the corrupt people around you. At best, you’ll end up another victim floating in Tokyo Bay. It’s truly a sad state of affairs.

What should we do to prevent that from happening?

The answer to this question is precisely what this series is about.

To survive in a thoroughly corrupt world, you must become a monster with a heart more rotten than anyone else’s! If you’re able to achieve this, no matter what you see or do, you will instantly be able to think and interpret the most despicable thoughts humanly possible. As a result, you can live a life where you may deceive others, but you will never be deceived yourself.

“That’s ridiculous!”, some might say. I can understand the desire to believe in human warmth and good will. But as seen in the case of the H couple (the suspects in last year’s arsenic-laced curry incident in Wakayama, who lived lavishly off insurance money), making an honest living seems absurd in this day and age. In such times, we simply cannot remain innocent.

To avoid being victimized, one option is to proactively engage in sophisticated criminal activity. But laundry is best done on sunny mornings… No, what’s truly important is possessing criminal thinking and instincts equal to or surpassing those of criminals themselves, proactively preventing yourself and your family from becoming victims.

It goes without saying: you must protect yourself. Believing the state or the law will protect you is the greatest delusion of them all. When a crazed lunatic with a knife is right in front of you, about to stab you, do you really think you can talk your way out of it?

“This is wrong. You’re infringing on my rights. This violates human rights.”

Do you think a convenient, righteous policeman will always show up at the last second to arrest the lunatic? Crime, like physical labor, doesn’t play by intellectuals’ rules or theories in the real world. The police usually only move after a crime has been committed. “The law” is even worse; it only slowly takes effect during trial, long after the crime occurred and the suspect was arrested. In this case, since the suspect’s rights are also protected, it’s unclear whether this is good or bad for the victims or their families. A prime example is the case of Defendant A in the series of Aum Shinrikyo incidents.

Defendant A is implicated in an overwhelming number of heinous crimes, including the Matsumoto sarin attack, the Tokyo subway sarin attack, the Sakamoto family murders, and the killing of other followers. The sheer volume of charges makes it highly unlikely the trials will conclude within the next ten years. This is the same for M, the suspect in the arsenic-laced curry murder case. It gives rise to a wonderful value system: If you commit just one crime likely to get you the death penalty, you risk getting executed. Conversely, if you commit dozens of heinous crimes, the trials drag on, and you avoid the risk of execution during this time. Therefore, it’s better in the long run to commit as many crimes (likely to get you the death penalty) as possible.

If you argue in court, “This is a wrongful conviction! I was coerced into confessing by police brutality,” then merciful, well-rounded, leftist human rights lawyers will come to your defense in droves and drag out the trial. How incredibly fortunate!

Incidentally, during the Matsumoto sarin trial, the lawyers’ questioning was so brilliant that members of the victims’ association reportedly swelled with rage, exclaiming, “Does the defense seriously believe that multiple farmers would suddenly drink pesticide in their own homes in the middle of the night?!” As a tactic to prolong the trial while simultaneously harassing victims and bereaved families, it was undeniably masterful.

“They say sarin was released, but did police thoroughly investigate the possibility that it wasn’t the work of Martians aboard a UFO? If they didn’t, that’s a major investigative failure by the police, and we demand an immediate reinvestigation!” This ridiculous line of defense could be endlessly parroted by substituting the names of stars visible in the night sky for “Mars” and “Martians.” It could drag out the trial not just for hours, but for decades. Centuries, even. Once all star names are exhausted, the pattern could shift to questioning whether “the Matsumoto Sarin Incident was not the result of Reticulum aliens, defeated by the Earth Alliance in an interplanetary war tens of millions of years in the future, using a time machine to attack the Earth of the past as an experiment.” If such debate isn’t raised, it constitutes a grave dereliction of duty by the prosecution. When that’s over with, simply shift the “Reticulum aliens” blame onto something else and repeat the pattern endlessly. I know this sounds like a joke, but in the actual Aum trials, similar delay tactics were used, stretching thirty-minute questions into hours. I honestly think the legal profession is quite the kichiku business.

Frankly, lawyers–except when defending the righteous–are the most despicable people in the world. They’re paid handsomely to side with scum. There’s absolutely no need to show respect and address them as “sensei”, so don’t get the wrong idea here, folks. Their nastiness ranks somewhere between politicians and bureaucrats.

Man, I got all sidetracked rambling and now I forgot what I was saying… Sorry about that. I’m just a junior high dropout with a fried brain, and seeing so many printed words makes me wanna scream… But being a dropout really does come in handy sometimes. When those persistent Y Newspaper salespeople come knocking at your door, just say “I’m a junior high dropout. I can’t read newspapers,” and most of them will back off.

If they push further, just say, “What’s that supposed to mean? Got a problem with my level of education?” and eventually they’ll even feign concern, asking, “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to you about it?”

I’ve always dealt with Y Newspaper salespeople like this: when they show up while I’m jerking off, I open the door naked, still gripping my hard cock, and step out into the entrance. “I’m wanking right now, but I’ll be done soon. Come back later, okay? Look at all this cum leaking out.” I held my sticky fingers right in front of the salesguy’s face. He never showed up at my place again, no matter how long I waited (obviously?). This isn’t really related to corrupting your soul, but having the nerve to whip your dick out anywhere? Yeah, that’s important for a kichiku guy like me.

That’s why (and how many times have I said this?) I was telling you that if you go through life clinging to the delusion that you must be pure and righteous in this rotten world, you’re bound to end up living pathetically, so just give it up. But why on earth did this pathetic delusion that people should live such lives become so widely accepted?

I’ve harped on this point countless times whenever the opportunity arose, but the root of all evil lies solely in Japan’s defeat in the previous war.

Everything… well, not everything, but a lot of it stems from Japan’s loss. If Japan had won, none of the postwar settlement issues would have arisen. Not only would there have been no apologies, but the very notion of “reflection” wouldn’t have crossed anyone’s mind. No matter how many times I think about it, it infuriates me that despite victory being almost certain, those American bastards dropped two fucking atomic bombs on us like we were an experiment. But there’s something to learn from that. Namely, “rotten bastards are the strongest of all.”

America has been a nation of scoundrels since its inception. They sailed around the world arrogantly invading places, living lavishly off the spoils of colonies stolen from peaceful indigenous people–essentially living off the profits of the British Empire, that nation of thieving bastards. Among them, the most voraciously greedy lot thought, “We can’t live off this. What’s the next place full of exploitable suckers?” They sailed to the American continent, massacred peaceful, good Native Americans and buffalo, forcibly seized their land, chained up innocent black people from Africa and dragged them over to work them to death as slaves, and built their prosperity on it. They’re the most despicable, evil bastards in human history. A country that’s done such heinous things is bound to rot from the inside out. Thanks to that, it’s now degenerated into the world’s filthiest nation, overflowing with junkies, perverts, and vicious criminals. That’s why their military is so strong. With shootings and murders happening daily all over the place, killing is probably as easy as speaking English to them. I wonder if that history is taught at NOVA (a chain of conversational English schools)? I bet reading an untranslated Sidney Sheldon novel would probably teach you proper English and the right killing techniques.

Despite having such a shameful past, America is so keen to portray itself as the “world police”, rushing in anywhere there’s even a hint of trouble brewing. China, which gets criticized for its human rights violations, probably thinks, “Who the hell do those guys think they are, telling us what to do?” The counterargument of “Deal with your own fucking murderers and rapists before you start lecturing other countries about human rights,” is absolutely spot on. It really pisses me off to think we lost to a country like that. But the reason they’re a superpower is because they’re more rotten than anyone else. To thoroughly defeat them someday, we too must become more corrupt than them, body and soul (though I’m not advocating for the legalization of guns and drugs. Beyond drugs, there are countless things in this world that degrade the human spirit).

Thanks to losing the war, the democracy that seemed to spread throughout postwar Japan somehow fostered a nationwide belief that “living a life of peace and righteousness” is the way to go. Fortunately, I realized relatively early on that there is absolutely no basis for having to live “correctly.” Regardless of if such a basis existed or not, I would’ve done whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, even if I thought it was absolutely the wrong thing to do. That is what it means to be kichiku.

I know I’m just bragging and not getting anywhere with this story, but cut me some slack–I’m just a dropout with a thick head. My bladder’s got a hell of a lot of capacity, just like my dick and balls, so I’m pretty good at holding my piss. But when it comes to shooting my load, that’s a different story–though that’s none of your business, so let’s leave it at that. What I really want to winge about is the Viagra craze. My petty logic says that the more useless dickheads who can’t get it up without Viagra, the more women will come my way. But anyway, the popularity of Viagra is so bad that guys with dicks thicker and stinkier and thicker and stinkier and thicker and stinkier and thicker and stinkier and thicker and stinkier than average should just down all their Viagra at once and die from the side effects already. Nobody’ll stop them. It’s none of my business, anyway.

Translator’s note: he really did write out “thicker and stinkier” six times.

Man, having a dick that’s too big is a real pain in the ass. Unless I’m fucking someone with a seriously loose pussy, I can’t enjoy it because I’m stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and stinky and thick and I can’t have the women I sleep with complaining about it being “too big” all the time. Ugh, what a pain.

Translators note: he really did write out “stinky and thick” nine times.

I’d like to take this opportunity to deeply apologize to all the women out there who’ve suffered pain during intercourse because my dick was too big. Not that I’m truly remorseful, but if the chance arises, I hope you’ll continue to give me and Murasaki Jr. a chance. Also, for any female readers who’ve been lonely due to never having been blessed with a thick cock, please send a letter of enquiry addressed to Murasaki to the editorial department, and I may just respond.

Ah, I’m really hopeless. This conversation keeps going off track and I can’t stick to the point at all.

★ Sudden Denpa Lecture: How to Win the Battle of Delusions

…Wait, what was I saying? I totally forgot what I was gonna say! Don’t make me write such a long script, you assholes! My head’s a mess–the slightest lapse and the denpa waves come flooding in. It’s unbearable. You guys get that too, right? Huh? No?! Don’t you lie to me!

…Anyway, the bottom line is that everything in this world is a “delusional war.” Parallel to the real world, in another dimension, the delusions emitted by each individual collide endlessly, sparking fiercely. Of course, it’s common sense that the ones who win the battle get all the good stuff, and the losers get stuck in a rut and are stripped down to their bones. If you’re not quite sure about your own sanity, or if you’re not the type to give it a second thought, try thinking about it when you’re high on weed or some shit and totally freaked out. Look up at the empty sky and stare endlessly into space. Then you’ll see countless tiny, translucent things like human spirits moving around wildly in a swarm. Those are the denpa waves flying around the delusional war airspace.

Man, it’s a sight that gives me the creeps every time I see it. Don’t stare too intently, though. They’ll come swarming if they think they’re being watched.

Those delusional battles happen all the time in everyday life. A clear example is that of “romance” where young people of a certain age compete against each other–that’s a classic delusional battle. When Christmas or Valentine’s Day approach, there’s a sudden influx, you know? Of the “lewd” denpa waves emitted by men wanting to fuck and women wanting to be fucked. If you wanna experience it for yourself, go to a red-light district like Kabukicho, stand on a street corner, and scout out some sexy chicks walking around. The tip of your dick starts to tingle, y’know?

That’s the lust wave, man. It’s an ultra-lewd denpa wave. But if you’re too defenseless, you’ll seriously want to fuck a woman for real, so take it easy. Stand on a Kabukicho street corner and try receiving the waves with the tip of your erect dick–it’s seriously intense.

“I’m irresistible, aren’t I?”

“My pussy smells so sweet.”

“My dick’s thick as hell.”

“Ahhh, I just wanna rail her to death.”

“Hey, you, standing there with your pathetically hard dick. See that woman standing across the street? She wants you to fuck her right now. She says 30,000 yen is fine. Raw, oral included. A facial is an extra 5,000 yen. Hurry up, you idiot…”

These are the kinda voices that randomly hit you hard. Don’t take those pimpish denpa waves seriously. There are plenty of guys who get slapped when they try to hand a ten-thousand-yen bill to a woman on the street. Watch out for those dirty wave scams.

★ The Delusional Battle of “Love”

Ah, I’ve gone off track again. I was talking about how “love” is a classic delusional battle, right? Love itself is just a malignant delusion fueled by mere sexual desire. Sure, it’s convenient because it makes sex feel dozens of times better when you’re possessed by it. But if you get too hooked, you can lose sight of everything and end up destroyed. So, love is fine, but I’m telling you to keep it in check. When you “fall” for someone, it means you’ve been driven mad by the lust waves they’re emitting and you’ve gotten roped into their delusion–this is considered “defeat” in a delusional war. This part’s important, so stop laughing and take this seriously!

Men, women, homosexuals, and hermaphrodites–basically, all humans are animals who constantly emit the “I’m a sexy, attractive person” delusion in various forms. Marriage scams are a prime example of this.

Getting someone to fall for you is one thing, but easily falling for someone else yourself? That’s the absolute worst kind of foolishness, the scum of the earth. So you aspiring criminals out there, keep your heads on straight. Got it? Real love is no joke.

Having your heart stolen by someone else is fundamentally the most foolish act imaginable–it defies your very instinct for self-preservation by allowing something other than “yourself”, who should be your number one priority, to take your place.

Moreover, the delusional battle called romance is a troublesome affair where the victor doesn’t always come out ahead. What if the guy you snagged turns out to be a piece of shit? Or worse, what if you make some deadly psychopath fall for you? That’d be a real mess.

That’s why good people aiming to be proper bastards shouldn’t get involved in serious romantic affairs. Honestly, I hate typing that filthy word “love.” Bastards like myself shouldn’t use disgusting words like “effort” or “friendship” too much… ugh… “Trust,” “peace”... Gahhhhh! I’m going crazy! Pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, anal sex! Anal sex! Anal sex!

…Ahh, that’s better. Once the plan to turn humanity to scum is complete, we gotta make sure those filthy words get banned from public airways immediately. Hearing them even once makes me feel like my lifespan is shrinking. Ah, but still… I could really go for some anal right about now.

Alright then, let’s write a bit more about the kichiku methods for dealing with romance (ugh).

The most basic strategy of delusional warfare–that your perception depends on your mindset–can also be applied to romance. The fundamental mistake is thinking your love interest is your equal. You aspiring kichiku elites must start today by viewing all members of the opposite sex as holes! (For women, think “dick”; for bisexuals and homosexuals, it varies on a case-by-case basis). Merely thinking it won’t do–you must genuinely, from the bottom of your heart, believe they are holes.

A new morning has dawned. It’s not your mother who rushes you out the door because you’re late as you come into the living room to eat breakfast. It’s an unknown creature called “Mother Hole.” This thing is utterly creepy–a stinking hole that makes your nose wrinkle, covered in meat and guts, with limbs sprouting from it. As you eat, your mind wanders: “Back in his youth, my old man was sweating buckets, convening with this ‘Mother Hole’ thing, wasn’t he? Aaaah, you shameless bastard, don’t you dare fuck with meeee!” As this delusion spreads, feelings of filth and rage well up, making the food taste worse. You should remember how you were raised, how you were trained. The food will definitely taste horrible, but you shouldn’t be satisfied with just that. The hands that cooked you breakfast are the same hands that for decades thoroughly dug around its own stinking, discharge-filled cunt. You will completely forget any gratitude you once held toward “Mother Hole.” And that’s fine. If you eat delicious food and live peacefully, you’ll never become a good criminal. Parental affection is the root of all “goodness,” so we must crush it first! The first stage of the Catastrophic Kichiku Revolution lies in shattering all familial bonds of trust! Got it, you moronic leftist? Actually, nevermind. I don’t wanna sound too uncultured.

Back to the point. The girl before your eyes isn’t actually human! She’s just a “hole” that accidentally gained consciousness. Probably not by some ancient UFO (which don’t exist) that landed on Earth. A bacteria-infested crater clinging to a meteorite that recently evolved and started walking around. So you mustn’t take what the “hole” says seriously. Needless to say, the goal of the “hole” before you is world domination, starting with your dick. Admittedly, the “hole” is pleasantly warm and cozy when you stick your dick in it. But it’s incredibly cheeky, playing hard to get and not letting you fuck it easily. It’s no wonder you think, “What the hell? It’s completely useless except for making me feel good.” Strangely enough, in this country, even a mere “hole” is granted equal rights as us, and there are even laws forbidding you from burying your dick in it without permission. It’s a real headache.

So for those without a dedicated hole (apparently called a “lover”), the reality is paying for a semi-illegal business hole like a soapland or a streetwalker to fill the void a little. I’ve always opposed prostitution for financial reasons alone. Why the hell would I pay money for pussy?! Everyone should get it for free. It’s weird, I guess, but no matter the process, I end up agreeing with feminists in the end…

Well, whatever. In the world today, maybe because of dioxin and other environmental hormones messing with men’s sperm counts, it seems like real men are dwindling–the kind who’d just shut up and let you use their hole! Don’t go after boring shit like love or money! Japan lost the war, dammit! Don’t you understand?!

By the way, a devout Mormon foreigner lives near a friend of mine. They’re polite, kind, keep their place spotless, and have an excellent reputation in the neighborhood. These “environmental Mormons” are fine, but having a “frustrated environmentalist" like myself, constantly horny and lurking around the neighborhood, might be a problem. What, is this boring you? Hmph, my bad!

★ The Delusional “Hole” Revolution and Anal Sex

I’ve been rambling so much I forgot what I wanted to say. Probably just some boring nonsense I’ll forget anyway. Poor readers, having to sit through this…

…Ah, right. I was talking about holes. Holes. According to the denpa waves I just picked up, the probability of a global “Hole Movement” happening this year–where we stop calling women “women” and start calling them “holes”–is about as likely as a naked woman flying in from afar and impaling herself on your erect cock while you’re standing on your balcony after a bath on a clear night, hands on your hips, cock standing tall as it slips right into her asshole. In short, you feminists out there needn’t get so worked up.

But man, the terror of the hole-movement I hallucinated was insane. It was beyond crazy. Pro hole-ists plastered signs with “HOLE” written in black ink over all the “Ladies” signs in every public restroom in town. That’s insane, right? It’s more indiscriminate and meaningless than that of a radical leftist’s. Of course, feminists immediately retaliated by plastering stickers saying “PENIS” or “SMALL PENIS” all over the “Men’s” signs in public restrooms. I even hallucinated myself standing in front of a “SMALL PENIS” sign and thinking to myself, “Oh man, I’m so thick… maybe I’m not allowed in here…” Even a bastard like me takes certain things seriously… No way I’m peeing in a stall designated for small dicks, hahahahaha. By the way, love hotel owners, could you please stick L-size condoms in the rooms, too, not just M? Regular-sized condoms are so tight that it’s unbearable, hahahaha.

It’s a real pain in the ass, no? Hahahaha. Seriously, I just don’t get the struggles of guys with small dicks. I’m seriously jealous of them. I mean, I fucking love anal sex, but my dick’s just too thick! But that’s life, hahahaha. If it were thick like a foreigner’s but soft and floppy, that’d be fine. But it’s a rock-hard masterpiece with a high glans and a shiny black shaft. If I put it on “Antiques Roadshow,” it’d probably fetch ten million yen, hahahaha. But who’d actually appraise it, huh? Some old hag with “fifty years of dick appraisal experience” or something, hahahaha. Ahh, I wish I’d been born with a smaller dick. Listen up, a man’s worth isn’t measured by dick size alone. No matter how big it is, it’s useless if you can’t use it for anal. Sorry about that, readers. I always end up going off on a dick-bragging tangent. But that’s not all I can brag about. I’ve got twenty-seven years of anal masturbation under my belt and I’ve never once had a fissure. My “iron asshole” is something to be proud of. Hahaha, pretty amazing, huh? Being kichiku means you gotta train your ass, too.

I’ve said it countless times before, but ass is awesome, it’s the fucking best! If you’re reading this and you haven’t trained your ass yet, at least do enough to be able to work two fingers inside. People who’ve reached adulthood without developing their ass’s erogenous zones are pathetic fucking losers.

For readers outside Tokyo who are kind enough to read this book, allow me to enlighten you: in Tokyo these days, a virgin asshole is so lame that not even a bitch would touch you, let alone a pufferfish. Any decent man has developed his asshole’s sensitivity long ago. Men pounding each other or lovers wearing double-ended dildos to fuck each other’s asses is as common as a morning cup of cafe au lait. You absolutely must develop your asshole before moving to the city. Otherwise, people will question your common sense and decency (Editor’s note: all of this is Murasaki’s delusion). Just the other day, I saw this young guy in my neighborhood being led away by cops while crying, followed by this totally embarrassed-looking young woman. Later, when I asked the lady at the tobacco shop what happened, she told me that the man had been having sex in his apartment when his girl grabbed him by the ankles and licked his ass. He cried, “Stop it, you pervert!” and kicked her. What a hopeless brat. If you’re gonna freak out over getting your ass licked, you shouldn’t be bringing girls home for sex. You’re ten years too young!

Assholes sure are cute, aren’t they? Just thinking about ‘em makes me restless. It might sound like a stretch, but to become a proper kichiku, you should spend every waking moment thinking about assholes. Normally, people don’t consider them much, you see. If you think like normal people, you’ll only ever have normal, conventional thoughts (which is bullshit). That’s why assholes are so great. Think about them more deeply, more passionately, more single-mindedly than anyone else. Think and think and think. Even if nothing productive comes of it, at least your idle time gets meaninglessly wasted, bringing you closer to death–a tremendous loss.

Ah, how many more times, with how many more people will I get to have anal sex in this lifetime…? When you gaze at distant city lights like that, puffing on a cigarette, and let your thoughts drift to anal, people watching you may think, “Ah, what a distinguished gentleman. He must be pondering something great.” Honestly, you never know what humans are thinking behind their prim exterior. Take, for example, that chick working at the McDonald’s near the station I go to sometimes. She greets you with this dazzling smile. But that bitch? All she thinks about from 8am till she finishes work is getting high in her boyfriend’s room, with that filthy cunt of hers. She’s practically drooling, her mouth watering. I’ve nearly lost it so many times, almost yelling, “Do your damn job! You rotten cunt!” The guys in the kitchen are all the same, high-minded bastards only thinking about the anal sex they’ll be having with their lovers in a few hours. Seriously, every single employee at McDonald’s XXX Station Branch is a fucking cunt-addicted maniac! Try putting yourself in the customer’s shoes, forced to eat hamburgers made with fingers soaked in pussy juice, reeking of vaginal discharge! Do you even understand, you piece of shit?! (Editor’s note: all of the above is completely baseless slander. Please ignore it.)

★ Sudden Q&A: How to Avoid Becoming a Goody-Two Shoes!

…So, what the hell was I talking about again? Anal sex? Nah. Holes. I was saying that if you stop seeing women as women and just see them as holes, you can have more detached relationships, right? Whatever, let’s continue… What? My talk is meaningless and boring? Of course it is, you idiot! If you wanna read something decent and meaningful, go read the Asahi Shimbun or books from Iwanami Shoten! You self-righteous perverts who get off in secret, don’t you dare act all high and mighty here! Do you think Dangerous Issue No. 28 is some refined, culture magazine?!

This magazine is vulgar, evil and coercive! Don’t ask rhetorical questions!

…Ah, seriously, arguing against every single sensible opinion is such a pain in the ass. I have absolutely no intention of saying anything profound in this series, so don’t complain about every little thing. This is why I hate people with a high school education and above.

So listen up, if you seriously fall in love with a “hole”, you’re doomed. You’ll just become a total monster and fall into depravity. So just don’t do it.

Above all, if I accidentally develop “feelings” for someone (Ughhhhh!), I might just become a good person–which is what I fear the most. It’s terrifying. In this rotten era, becoming a good person is worse than having four hundred liters of shit forced up my ass and dying covered in filth. Fuck you.

Wait, I just realized I’ve been rambling on about some meaningless nonsense for a while now. But this is surely me talking about the mindset needed to survive this chaotic end of the century as a kichiku bastard. I should probably just make a clear bullet point list, but this manuscript isn’t long enough, so I’ll keep rambling on.

Oh… while I was writing this, it seems a flood of email questions from readers past, present and future have been pouring in. Guess I’ll answer them honestly for once. Let’s see…

Takeaways: A Blurb by Denpa Archivist

From the outset, this article positions itself as deliberately extreme, profane, and provocative. One might interpret this as a form of transgressive literature designed to outrage. One of the article’s major themes is Murasaki’s rejection of conventional morality and social norms. He writes that “in this rotten world, the first to become rotten to the core wins.”

The article advocates for adopting “criminal thinking and instincts” as a survival strategy in a society that Murasaki sees as corrupted, deceptive and collapsing. This nihilistic and rebellious stance can be read as a critique of mainstream society’s values–but it’s also ethically troubling because (on the surface) it endorses criminality, disregard for others, and manipulative behavior as virtues.

Murasaki draws on real-world concerns (economic decline, social insecurity, spiritual scams) to frame his argument. He mentions Japan’s post-economic-bubble recession, the growth of scams, the prevalence of what he calls “denpa waves” and cultish spiritual businesses.

So in that sense the text has a socio-cultural commentary: the collapse of faith in institutions, the disillusionment of youth, and the proliferation of deception. But the author extrapolates these legitimate anxieties into a justification for embracing cynicism, amorality, and self-serving criminal logic. The article’s rhetoric is deeply misogynistic, demeaning, fetishistic and sexually violent, in places using graphic crass imagery and degrading language toward women (e.g., equating them to “holes”).

This kind of language undermines any possibility of redeeming the text as merely an edgy critique; but I believe this crassness to be a defense mechanism. By purposefully pushing away readers, Murasaki becomes immune to criticism–you can’t criticize an article you didn’t finish reading. Publishing personal writings is an act of vulnerability, no matter how vulgar.

Additionally, Murasaki constantly digresses, uses shock value rather than coherent argumentation, and switches between criminal advice, sexual fantasy, social commentary, and vulgar bragging. For example, he randomly transitions from theft survival advice to a sexually-charged tangent on the joys of anal masturbation.

While this chaotic structure may be intentional (mimicking mental breakdown or “denpa wave” delirium), it also makes the piece undeniably incoherent. The mixing of real societal critique with bizarre sexual fantasies and vulgar self-aggrandizement clouds any clear line of reasoning. I believe these tangential interjections to be an example of schizography (lengthy, delirious ramblings of someone suffering from a schizophrenic episode), though I don’t know what I expected since this article is titled, “End of the Century Kichiku Ramblings.” Perhaps I’m being too sympathetic, but I really do believe that Murasaki exhibits moments of clarity during these writings and has something of value to say; wise up so you don’t get scammed. Think like a criminal to avoid becoming a victim. Nobody can hurt you if you don’t let them in.

Murasaki’s mention of Japan’s flawed criminal justice system exhibits a clear sense of “right and wrong” that he claims to not have. Despite what he touts, he isn’t a rapist. He implies that he follows the laws “...forbidding you from burying your dick in [a woman] without permission” and does not engage in soliciting sex (purely for financial reasons, but he’s admitted to resorting to theft to get what he wants. How is sex any different, especially if he enjoys it so much?). He also mentions that he finds American colonization and their history of slavery to be deplorable. This highlights Murasaki’s humanity, does it not? You can find it if you squint hard enough.

As a cultural artifact, this article may reflect important undercurrents: the disaffection of certain segments of Japanese youth at the end of the 20th century, the rise of subcultures fascinated by nihilism, sex and taboo, and the fear of societal malfunction (economic crisis, spiritual fraud, alienation). The editor’s decision to keep any mention of “denpa” tangents adds a cultural layer of weirdness, delusion and marginality. In that sense, the article is valuable for scholars of underground Japanese literature or extreme subculture.

In summary: while the article offers an unusual form of cultural critique and raw subcultural expression, it is ethically and morally indefensible in many respects: its glorification of crime, its misogyny, its violence, its fetishistic sexual content. It lacks coherent argumentation, instead relying on shock, digression and vulgarity. If taken seriously as a guide—as the author apparently intends (but who would take this seriously in the first place? The mere thought of it saddens me.)—it is dangerous. If taken as a provocative literary piece expressing alienation and rage, it is definitely worth studying, but only with strong critical filters.

Translator’s Note: I decided not to translate the Q&A segment because it was full of repeated phrases and incoherent rambling. I did not find that it added anything of value (other than humor) to the article, and it was pretty lengthy. If anyone’s interested in the Q&A, please let me know so I can update this page. Thank you for reading. You’ve read over seven thousand words!