The 放題

There is something which, were it spread to the rest of the world, would surely contribute to it becoming a better place. I am, of course, talking about the 放題 ("houdai"). For those of you who think that those squiggly lines are just a very complicated way of writing "houdai", well, you're right. Obviously, it is. But also, it's not. There's far more to it than meets the eye.

This is a Japanese concept, as you may have guessed, what with it being talked about by me. It means, basically "-as much as you want." Which is a pretty sweet deal, you must agree. The Houdai comes in abundant natural flavours. The original (and some would argue, the best) is the Nomihoudai, the drink-all-you-want. It's pretty straight forward, really. You pay the man or the woman at the place a flat fee, and then watch as your party desolves into drunken disorder. A process during which at one point, somebody will obviously find it a great idea to go yell at empty taxi cabs parked on the street below. At times, the not-at-all elusive Nomihoudai can be found at karaoke places, which make for a quite possibly lethal combination. Just ask your throat the next morning. You will get no reply. If you do, you'll have done something terribly wrong.

Of course, there are far more esoteric species in the Houdai family than the Nomihoudai, or even it's cousin, the Tabehoudai (all-you-can-eat. Hell, you can even find that in places which are not Japan!). Basically anything can be Houdai-ified, if you try hard enough. You might have met up with the Norihoudai ("ride", as on trains or giant coffee cups at some place of amusement), which can be very useful for going places (or indeed, around in circles). Then there's the general Yarihoudai, or -shihoudai, ("do") with the aid of which one can help even lowly nouns approach the sanctity of the Houdai. Here are two examples:


This would be the Cross-promotional-yarihoudai, for a Japanese mobile phone company, as well as a company making great big black capes and somewhat clunky armour to go with it. Then there's always the ol':


Which probably would be the Tall-building-houdai, or maybe the Cloudy-houdai. If you build something so high that it not only reaches the clouds but actually goes on to stab them right in the belly, that's probably your cue to stop, right there. Or just keep going, I don't really care. I like tall buildings, as long as I'm not the one building them. That would just be pathetic, trying to build a skyscraper on student loans using arms the girth of hotdogs.

Tripple word score to everybody who can guess what city that picture's from. Yes, even if you look at the comments after the first person got it right. Cheater. Hint: It's not the place I am from, and chances are, it's not the place you're from, either.

The reason for all this Houdai-ness? Man, do I always have to have a reason? (Hint #2: Uhm, no, just look at the rest of the posts, and you'll probably start to notice some sort of pattern forming). But yeah. The weather's good. I mean, great! I spent three hours outside today. In a row! Without my mom saying "You have to go out and play more". Not that she does, generally; that's just to make my point. Anyhoo, then I catch a glimpse of the weather on TV (yes, man has invented a thing which s/he can look at as opposed to look out the actual window), and see that Sweden had the highest temperature in all of Europe today. Feel free to make up a brand new Houdai to commemorate this day.

Think about it for a second, "The Highest in Europe". Taste it. This is big. Mainly because it's so unexpected. If you know something good's coming your way, its relative value depriciates accordingly. It follows that the opposite might also be true; if something great happens completely out of the blue, your joy is multiplied by a factor, lets call it Mike. The Mike Factor. Remember back in junior high when your teacher didn't show up for class that one time, and you suddenly had 45 minutes of free time? That's it. It was just so much more precious than the empty period you always had between math and English on Thursday afternoons, because you had no idea it was coming. It's like getting an album by a group you don't know, only to realise one of your new favorite tunes is on there. The one that's been going through your head all day; you just didn't know the name of the band.

That, my friends, is the magical power of the Houdai. The power which lets me go from Darth Vader via Swedish weather and junior highschool, all the way to a random analogy involving music. Fan-frikkin-tabulous.