Fuck Harmony (warning: foul language ahead)

Fuck the guy trying to beat his girl on the Oedo Line platform tonight.

Fuck the social conditioning that stopped the girl from running, yelling, hitting him back, or doing anything but whimper.

Fuck the fact that I needed to risk getting my gaijin ass thrown in jail for trying to stop the guy.

Fuck the bystanders fifteen feet away that pretended not to notice. Fuck the fact that they had been pretending not to notice for the whole thirty seconds it took me to realize what was happening, see it, and run down the escalator.

Fuck pretending not to understand my very loud, very articulate “誰か助けて!” (“someone help!”)

Fuck the security cameras covering the entire station, and the station agents that saw all this happen and did nothing.

Fuck the fact that since it will never be reported, it will never be a stain on Japan’s oh-so-pristine crime statistics.

So fuck cultural relativism, and fuck harmony. I don’t care whether you return my lost umbrella, sit quietly on the train, bow to me when I come in your store, or hold my bag when I’m trying on clothes; it’s all meaningless shit if you stand by and watch while a crazy drunk hits his girl. There’s no such thing as “knowing your place” or “minding your own business” when defenseless people are getting hurt.

She said “arigato,” though, when I shouted at him to stop, so amidst my general anger, I kind of feel like a gigantic baller right now. I made a ruckus, drew him away from the girl, told him I wasn’t looking for trouble, stood my ground while he acted like a tough guy, and she got away. If he had been a little bigger or a little drunker, though, I’d nursing a fat lip, and that’s not a situation I should need to deal with. Sort your shit out, Japan. Damn.

Update: somebody that apparently knows me has picked it up on Feministing.org.