Neat Tokyo Library
I stopped off in Tokyo on my way home yesterday evening, and I have to say that Japan is just a strange little country. I was able to see most of it while I was there, but Tokyo had some of the more memorable moments.
Today I’ll tell you about one of them. You should prepare yourself now, because this post is going to be so vividly written that you might experience some momentary confusion and disorientation. Your balance could be thrown off as your inner ear and brain start fighting over where you actually are right now: your brain is likely to be convinced that you’re actually in Tokyo because of the power of the writing to follow, while your inner ear, which is the one with the map, GPS, and lots of weird ear fluids, is going to be pretty sure that you haven’t moved at all. Lucky you. My inner ear is always trying to convince me that I’m in Alabama. It’s like my ear has an Alabama fetish. If there’s someone out there from Alabama with an inner ear fetish, I might need to hook the two of you up.
Now that you’re armed with that warning, we can dive into my Tokyo story. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The story begins in Tokyo. Tokyo looks and smells a lot like a different part of Tokyo, except the streets have different names. The important thing about this part of Tokyo is the library that sits on one of the differently named streets. Most of the other streets are completely libraryless, as shocking and unnatural as that may seem to Westerners.
But this library has something special about it, too, and that’s the section devoted to the paranormal. I don’t mean paranormal books, I mean actual ghosts and spirits and your Aunt Helen, who, while not dead yet, is definitely getting up there. This section lets the paranormal entities read books, periodicals, and reference materials without feeling self-conscious about their non-corporeal state.
Large multilingual signs are posted at the borders of the supernatural section warning humans and humanoid androids of what lies within. For visitors who don’t speak one of the languages on the signs, the plaid walls and carpet serve as the international symbol for “here be demons and supernatural hoobiejoos.”
The other unusual thing about the library is the lack of chairs. Most libraries offer chairs and tables for people who want to sit and read. The Tokyo library dispenses with those, instead offering glass booths where patrons can stand and read in private. They are similar to telephone booths, only smaller and without a telephone. They serve the same purpose as chairs, but are significantly more space-efficient and futuristic-looking.
Well, there you have it: a hypervivid description of Tokyo and one of its more noteworthy libraries. I hope it wasn’t too disorienting for you to read it.