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About Tokyo

I roll up, shades on, feelin like a champ. This chick struts over—legs for days, skirt shorter than a jobber’s career. “What’s your name?” I growl, all Hulkster bravado. She’s like, “Does it matter?” Ha! Cold as ice, brother! Made me laugh, but also pissed me off—gimme somethin to work with, lady! I’m thinkin, “I lie to myself all the time,” like in *Memento*. Am I even here for this? Brain’s spinnin.

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First off, I grab my coffee from that little joint on Kōen-dōri. You know the one? The barista there, Yuki, she’s got the best latte art. I swear, she could make a cat outta foam. Anyway, I’m sippin’ my coffee, feeling all zen, when my radio crackles to life.

Figure 5. One-dimensional column test. (a) Schematic illustration of...