Cameras would be set up in the apartment, and if the contestant was able to win the prizes, the footage would be edited into a segment called “Sweepstakes Boy.” The contestant would be invited on the show to tell his story and, with any luck, the national TV exposure would give a boost to his career. That was it—that was the reward (along with the magazine prizes).
SUCH A DEAL
As if that wasn’t a weak enough offer, there was a catch—the contestant would have to live off the prizes he won. The apartment would be completely empty, and the contestant wouldn’t be allowed to bring anything with him—no clothes, no food, nothing. If he wanted to eat, he had to win food. If he wanted to wear clothes, he had to win those, too. Nasubi passed the audition and agreed to take the job.
On day one of the contest, the producers blindfolded him and took him to a tiny one-bedroom apartment in an undisclosed location somewhere in Tokyo. The apartment was furnished with a magazine rack and thousands of neatly stacked postcards (for entering the contests), as well as a table, a cushion to sit on, a telephone, notepads, and some pens. Other than that, it was completely empty.
Castor oil is used as a lubricant in jet planes.
Nasubi stripped naked and handed his clothes and other personal effects to the producers. He stepped into the apartment, the door was locked behind him, and his strange adventure began.
HOME ALONE
Nasubi spent his days entering magazine sweepstakes, filling out between 3,000 and 8,000 postcards a month. It took him two weeks to win his first prize—a jar of jelly. Two weeks later, he won a five-pound bag of rice.
But how could he cook it? He hadn’t won any cooking utensils. He tried eating the rice raw, and when that failed he put some in a tin can, added some water, and put it next to a burner on the stove. Using this method, he cooked about half a cup of rice each day, and ate it using two of his pens for chopsticks. (The producers are believed to have given Nasubi some sort of food assistance, otherwise he would not have eaten anything for the first two weeks of the show. To this day it is unclear exactly how much assistance he received, but judging from the amount of weight he lost during the show, it wasn’t much.)
SECRET ADMIRERS
Nasubi didn’t know it at the time, but he was being watched. Sure, he knew about the cameras in the apartment, but the producers had told him that the footage would be used on Susunu! Denpa Sho-Nen after (and if) he completed his mission. And he had believed them.
But the producers had lied—he’d been on TV from the very beginning. Each Sunday night, edited highlights of the week’s activities were broadcast in a one-hour show on NTV, one of Japan’s national networks. The show was a big hit, and in the process Nasubi became a national celebrity, one of the hottest new stars in Japan. A naked star at that, albeit one whose private parts were kept continuously concealed by a cartoon eggplant that the producers superimposed on the screen.
Dry ice does not melt. It sublimates.
NASUBI’S BOOTY
Viewers were there when Nasubi won each of his two vacuum cleaners, and they were there when he won each of his four bags of rice, his watermelon, his automobile tires, his belt, and his ladies underwear (the only articles of clothing he won during months in captivity), his four tickets to a Spice Girls movie (which he could not leave the apartment to see), his bike (which he could not ride outside), and countless other items, including chocolates, stuffed animals, headphones, videos, golf balls, a tent, a case of potato chips, a barbecue, and a shipment of duck meat.
Nasubi also won a TV, but the joy of winning it was shattered when he discovered that his apartment had neither antenna nor cable hookup. (The producers feared that if he watched TV, he’d find out he was on TV.)
And he won a few rolls of toilet paper—10 months after his ordeal began.
Nasubi sang a song and danced a victory dance every time a new prize came in the mail; when he did, many viewers at home sang and danced with him. When his food ran out, they gagged and sobbed with him as he ate from the bag of dog food he won; when he prayed for a new bag of rice, viewers prayed, too.
ROUND-THE-CLOCK EXPOSURE
Nasubi was such a media sensation that reporters tried to find out where he was living. It took six months, but someone finally located his apartment building in June 1998. Before they could make contact with him, however, the producers whisked Nasubi off to a new apartment in the dead of night, telling him the move was intended “to change his luck.”
In July the producers set up a live website with a video feed and a staff of more than 50 people (many of whom were there just to make sure the moving digital dot stayed over Nasubi’s private parts at all times). Now people could watch Nasubi 24 hours a day.
Finally, in December 1998, one year after he was first locked into the apartment, Nasubi won the prize—a bag of rice—that pushed his total winnings over a million yen. So was he free? Not exactly: The show’s producers gave him his clothes, fed him a bowl of ramen noodles, and then whisked him off to Korea, where he couldn’t speak the language and no one would recognize him. Then he was placed in another empty apartment, where he had to win prizes to pay for his airfare back home.
Was it a mis-de-mooo-ner? In 1740 a French judge found a cow guilty of sorcery.
When Nasubi finally accomplished that, he was flown back to Tokyo, taken to a building, and led into another empty room (it was really just a box, but he didn’t know it).
INSTANT CELEBRITY
Out of habit, he stripped naked and waited for something to happen. Suddenly the roof lifted, the walls fell away, and Nasubi found himself, still naked, his hair uncut and his face unshaved for more than 15 months (he never did win clippers or a shaver), standing in an NTV broadcast studio in front of a live audience. Seventeen million more people were watching at home.
More than 15 months had passed since Nasubi had been locked into his apartment, and it was only now, as he held a cushion over his privates, that he learned he’d been on TV since day one. His weekly show had made him Japan’s hottest new star, the producers explained to him. The diary he’d kept? It had already been published and was a bestselling book, one that had earned him millions of yen (tens of thousands of dollars) in royalties. That bowl of ramen soup the producers fed him the day he came out of isolation? The footage had been turned into a popular soup commercial. They told him about the website—it made money, too. All of this resulted in a lot of money for Nasubi.
It took quite a while for all of this information to sink in. “I’m so shocked,” Nasubi finally said. “I can’t express what I feel.”
ONE OF A KIND
Today Nasubi is a happy, successful celebrity. Nevertheless, as crazy as Japanese game shows can be, it’s unlikely that any other person will experience what he went through. Even if someone were crazy enough to agree to be locked in an apartment for such a long time, they would know from the beginning what was up.
But there’s another reason: that much isolation just isn’t healthy. Sure, he looked relatively happy on the show, and he certainly had moments of joy. But the footage had been edited to make Nasubi’s experience seem better than it really was. In press interviews, he admitted there were times when he thought he was going to go nuts. “I thought of escaping several times,” he told reporters later. “I was on edge, especially toward the end.”
An American living in Japan in 1869 invented the rickshaw to transport his invalid wife.
ONE-OF-A-KIND HOTELS
You could reserve a suite at the Ritz, but for the night’s sleep you’ll never forget, try one of these one-of-a-kind hotels.
JULE’S UNDERSEA LODGE
There’s only one way to check into this pleasure palace—by scuba diving to it. Set at a depth of five fathoms (30 feet) below the clear waters off Key Largo, Florida, this two-bedroom facility is the only underwater hotel in the world. As you flipper down from the surface, you will pass through schools of fish on your way to the barnacle-encrusted building, a former scient
ific habitat. You’ll pop up into the lobby through a small pool (compressed air pumped into the lodge keeps the sea water out). Moments later a “mer-porter” delivers your luggage in watertight containers. There’s a lounge with a comfy couch and a TV/VCR, but most guests prefer to watch sharks through the 42-inch picture windows in each bedroom. A “mer-chef” will dive down to cook and serve your lobster dinner. You can take an evening stroll along the bottom of the coral lagoon, your way lit up by millions of phosphorescent plankton. A notary public will even dive down to marry you, should you so desire, but your witnesses had better be certified divers.
OUT ‘N’ ABOUT TREE RESORT
This is one place where you can literally go out on a limb for your vacation. Set in the deeply wooded Illinois Valley of Oregon, this “treesort” has 14 different treehouses, some as high as 36 feet up. Since many are connected by swinging bridges and rope ladders, once you’re aloft, you never have to put your foot on the ground until you check out.
At one time local authorities closed the treehouses to the general public because they didn’t conform to county codes. However, the owner’s friends were welcome to stay there. Michael Garnier called his friends “Treemusketeers.” Soon Treemusketeers from all over the world were buying T-shirts with specific dates on them. When they arrived to pick up their T-shirts, Garnier would invite his new “friends” to spend the night in one of his treehouses. (The county finally gave up in the face of this scheme and issued a permit.)
What do Abraham Lincoln and William Shakespeare have in common? No living descendants.
DREAM CAVE HOTEL, CAPPADOCIA
If you’ve ever wanted to live like a Hobbit, this is the place for you! The Cappadocia region of Turkey is home to some of the most amazing dwellings in the world. Over thousands of years, the ancient volcanic landscape has been carved by the wind and rain, dotting the area with curious tall cinder cones known locally as “fairy chimneys.” Native people have been carving houses and churches out of these cone-shaped rocks for centuries—at first for protection from marauding armies, and later out of tradition. There are two entire cities carved underground that once sheltered as many as 20,000 people. The Dream Cave is one of dozens of modest B&Bs in the town of Goreme that can put you up right in the cool heart of one of these ancient rock homes.
LIBRARY HOTEL, NEW YORK CITY
Now you can combine the thrill of staying in a hotel with the excitement of going to the library. Based on the Dewey Decimal System, the Library Hotel gives each floor a topic and each room a sub-topic. “For example,” says hotel patron Mike Warren, “I am on the 12th Floor (Religion), staying in Room 3 (The Occult), so they have about 30 books in my room on the occult, plus weird pictures on the wall.”
OTHER GREAT STAYS
• The Ice Hotel, Jukkasjarvi, Lapland, Sweden Rooms for 100 people, a chapel, a cinema, the world-famous Absolut Ice Bar—it’s all here, and it’s all made entirely of ice.
• Walrus Islands State Game Sanctuary, Round Island, Alaska For $50 you can spend the night surrounded by 15,000 snorting male walruses having what must be the bachelor party of all time.
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There’s plenty of room at the Hotel California. Any time of year (any time of year), you can find it here (you can find it here).
South Africa mines almost half of the world’s gold.
FUNNY BUSINESS
Big corporations play by an interesting set of rules: their own.
THE ANTI-ANTISMOKING CAMPAIGN
In the early 1980s, Merrell Dow, a subsidiary of Dow Chemical, released Nicorette, a cigarette-substitute chewing gum. To promote it they published The Smoking Cessation Newsletter, which they sent to doctors’ offices, did studies on the dangers of cigarettes, and even encouraged their own employees to quit smoking. Meanwhile, tobacco giant Philip Morris was spending millions annually on chemicals for the manufacture of their tobacco products, which they purchased from…Dow Chemical. Using their economic muscle to squash Nicorette, in 1984 Philip Morris ceased all purchasing from Dow. It worked. An internal memo later revealed that Merrell Dow president David Sharrock personally assured Philip Morris executives that he would screen all advertising and eliminate any anti-tobacco statements. Result: The newsletter was reduced to a one-sentence blurb: “If you want to quit smoking for good, see your doctor.”
THE CHICKEN SAYS “MOO”
Given up eating red meat? Next time you’re in England you may want to think twice before you order chicken. Recent tests by the British Food Standards Agency on imported chicken show they’re not exactly what you’d expect. Poultry companies in Holland and Belgium have been pumping water into their birds to inflate their weight and then advertising it as “more meat.” But how do you artificially inflate chickens? Inject the birds with extra protein, which allows the meat to retain more water. Chicken protein? No—the tests revealed that pork and beef protein had been put into the chickens.
SMOKE AND MIRRORS
Remember the huge tobacco lawsuits of the late 1990s? Threatened with having to foot the bill for all smoking-related illnesses, the nation’s largest tobacco companies agreed to pay 46 states an unbelievable $206 billion. The idea was that the states would use the money 1) to pay for smoking prevention programs, and 2) to defray the costs of health care for smokers who got ill. So far, however, less than 5% of the $33 billion paid out has gone to prevent smoking. And it gets worse: several states have earmarked their share of the money to help…the tobacco industry. In North Carolina, for example, $43 million of the $59 million they’ve received has gone to marketing and producing tobacco, the state’s biggest crop. They bought equipment for farmers, built a new tobacco auction hall, and put $400,000 toward a new tobacco processing plant. Other states have used the money won from tobacco companies to buy stock—in tobacco companies.
Kwanzaa means “first fruits” in Swahili.
THE HOMELAND LAWSUIT SECURITY AGENCY
In November 2002, just before President Bush signed the Homeland Security Bill into law, an interesting one-page “rider” was found buried in the bill: a provision that would protect companies that manufactured vaccine ingredients from being sued (vaccine makers were already protected). What does that have to do with homeland security? Nothing. Who would benefit from the provision? Pharmaceutical giant Eli Lilly. A vaccine ingredient they manufactured was suspected of causing autism in thousands of children, and Lilly was facing hundreds of lawsuits that could potentially cost them millions—maybe billions—of dollars. It was as if the law were tailor-made for Eli Lilly. Parents of autistic children, medical experts, and many lawmakers were outraged.
And nobody would admit to adding the rider to the bill.
Finally, weeks later, House Majority Leader Dick Armey (R-Texas) admitted he had done it, explaining, “It’s a matter of national security. We need vaccines if the country is attacked with germ weapons.” Adding to the intrigue, he said he had put the rider in at the request of the White House. What connection did the White House have to Eli Lilly? In the 1970s, former President George H. W. Bush sat on the board of Eli Lilly; White House budget director Mitch Daniels was a former Eli Lilly exec; and current Eli Lilly CEO Sidney Taurel served on the president’s Homeland Security Advisory Council.
UPDATE: In January 2003, amid complaints from parents of autistic children and growing media speculation about corporate influence on lawmaking, Republicans announced that the rider would be repealed.
Weird fact: Hawaii has 3 Interstate Highways. (Think about it.)
HAPPY TOILETS
While some governments fret over trivial matters such as national security and unemployment, other governments focus on what’s truly important.
KEEP IT CLEAN
In the past, Singapore’s government has launched campaigns against gum-chewers. Now they’re going to flush out dirty toilets. Why? Environmental minister Lim Swee Say and the government-sponsored Restroom Association of Singapore believe it’s important to maintain the coun
try’s reputation as a “magnet for human talent and a top location for investment. A country with dirty toilets has no future.” To ensure Singapore’s future, they have launched the “Happy Toilet” campaign—a plan to rate every one of the 70,000 public restrooms located in this tiny Asian country’s shopping malls, food courts, and public buildings.
“Today when you go to a public toilet you do not know what to expect inside,” says Jack Sim, president of the Restroom Association. “Sometimes you are very happy but sometimes you are very shocked—disgusted. When toilets are clean, people are happy.”
THE STAR SYSTEM
The association has established a five-star rating system, with the inspectors judging toilets for cleanliness, layout, and ergonomics. Just the basics gets a restroom three stars: clean and stocked with toilet paper, soap, and paper towels. For the highest rating? The restroom “has to have a good ambiance,” says Mr. Sim. “Probably with plants and pictures.”
One 5-star restroom features a poster of a woman dressed like a giant cockroach, smoking a cigarette, with strands of toilet paper dangling from her legs. “Dirty toilets attract the wrong crowd,” reads the caption. As Minister Say placed a five-star plaque outside a restroom at a shopping mall, he said, “I am looking forward to experiencing this toilet myself so I can walk out of it feeling happy!”
Future visitors to Singapore are well advised to take the Happy Toilet program seriously. Stiff fines will be imposed on any toilet users who forget to flush.
Barbie (the doll) has a last name: Roberts. Ken’s last name is Carson.
HEROIC BIRDS
Look up in the sky! It’s a bird, it’s a plane…no, it’s a bird. But not just any bird—it’s Superbird!
JOE TO THE RESCUE!
On October 18, 1943, the British 56th Infantry Division was scheduled to attack the German line at Calvi Vecchia, Italy. U.S. air support was called on to help soften the resistance. But it wasn’t needed. The Germans unexpectedly withdrew, and British troops swarmed into the area well ahead of schedule. But when they went to call off the U.S. bombers, they suddenly discovered that their communication systems were out. The bombing raid was imminent—hundreds of lives were at risk. That’s when the British summoned G.I. Joe, their faithful carrier pigeon. With a message attached to his leg, he was released and arrived at the air field 20 miles away just as the planes were about to take off.
Uncle John’s Unstoppable Bathroom Reader Page 27