Joe Biden Is Not Genki

And 7-11 serves dried shrimp.

Jun 30, 2024

Following Thursday night's debate, I set up a Google alert: "Joe Biden is dead."

I figured it's gotta be any day now.

I've told friends and family I would vote for a rotting ham sandwich before voting for Donald Trump. But my November vote is getting a bit too close to a rotting ham sandwich.

On the debate stage, Joe Biden looked like a confused cadaver. I wanted to walk into the TV, take his hand, and tell him, "It's ok, Joe. We're going home now."

Inanimate objects, like fruit, look more alive than Joe Biden. Slack-jawed, glossy-eyed, his head slowly swiveling, it was like watching an ancient merry-go-round's pony – rusted and littered with chipped paint – getting fired up one last time, struggling to finish its final whirl before it's shut down for good.

And then he spoke.

I'm not sure which was worse: watching an elderly man look wholly lost on CNN or listening to him mumble about sisters getting raped by their in-laws in response to a layup question about abortion.

If Joe is to stay in the race, only one thing can save him: the conbini.

At the front of every conbini is a special cooler full of small glass drinks and bags of jelly. They're known as "eiyou" drinks (栄養ドリンク), meaning nutritional drinks. They claim various questionable benefits, such as improving skin and increasing eye health. But there is one unquestionable benefit: energy.

I enjoyed just one “nutritional drink” during my time in Japan. Facing a long drive home and feeling sleepy, I popped into a Circle K and grabbed one of the little glass bottles. A few sips polished it off. I don't think I blinked for the entire 45-minute drive. It felt like I needed to strap bungee cables from the back of my skull to my eyeballs to keep them from rocketing out of my head. I've never tried crystal meth or crack cocaine. But they can't be far off.

Japan’s first "nutritional drink" was Lipovitan D. Taisho Pharmaceutical released it in 1960, appealing to post-war Japanese workers who worked long hours in factories and offices. The effective ingredient is taurine, a naturally occurring amino acid. The drink contains 1000mg of it.

Lipovitan D may very well be the original energy drink. Red Bull founder Dietrich Mateschitz was inspired by Krating Daeng, an energy drink in Thailand that came out in 1975. Meanwhile, Taisho released Lipovitan D in Thailand in 1965. I will not claim to know, but Lipovitan D may have inspired Krating Daeng, which subsequently inspired Red Bull.

Unless the Biden campaign wants to reenact Weekend at Bernie's until November, I suggest they send a low-level staffer to Tokyo and order him to scour the entire city for every "nutritional drink" he can find. Then, every hour on the hour, Joe should take a swig, starting when he wakes up. He may not blink for the remainder of the campaign, but he doesn't blink now! At least he'll look alive. And I don't mean in the encouraging way a coach yells to a player; I mean he'll literally look alive.

Hell, put him on an IV drip of Vitalmin 3000. This is the hardcore stuff with 3000mg of taurine.

If Joe doesn't step down to hand over the keys to something sentient, his campaign must pump him with enough Lipovitan D until he can recreate its iconic commercial.

Item of the Week

FamilyMart has released an onigiri adorned with a slice of chashu. Like the pork in ramen, it's been simmered in a mix of soy sauce, mirin, and sake until melt-in-your-mouth tender.

From the Dumpster

The Japanese eat weird stuff. I've enjoyed cod semen, whale, and snail ass, among many other strange things.

One party with co-workers featured a bowl of fried fish bones. They were small fish, maybe sardines. They had no flesh. It was a pile of heavily salted fried fish carcasses.

While Japan is one of the most advanced civilizations on earth, it has yet to discover dip. You could roam the country for years without finding ranch dressing, labneh, hummus, or French onion. So, we all crunched on fried fish bones while drinking beer.

While not as alarming as fried fish bones, 7-11 sells whole, dried shrimp. The head and shell are intact. Indeed, those are the primary features. Because they're dried, there must be no way to remove the shell. You just clamp down with the force of a 3500-ton Komatsu stamping press to enjoy your snack.