David Cole - Rad Nauseam

Like all great things, Babysan is extremely racist, heavily sexist and oh-so erotic. Published in 1953 (a year after the American occupation of Japan ended), Babysan is a series of one panel cartoons accompanied by a few paragraphs of explanatory condescension.

Like the famed cherry blossoms come with the Japanese springtime, Babysan came with the Occupation -- and it is hard to say which brings more color and charm to the small Far Eastern country. One is inclined, however, to steak his yen on Babysan; she is in bloom all year 'round.

The backstory is that Babysan was a young child in 1945 when the Americans first came. That's when she fell in love with them, you see, because servicemen would pass out candy to the curious children. Yes, that does, in fact, make this whole thing very creepy.

The cartoons walk a peculiar line: Babysan is a flirty Japanese pin up but she's also foolish, duplicitous, greedy and generally unpleasant to be around.

Really, she mostly just complains about how the men never spend money on her or take her out when she wants.

The first sailor-English that Babysan learned must have been "never happen." Although she was never able to pronounce it correctly, it was a good answer for almost the first question any sailor would ask her. Then she discovered that variations of that phrase brought different results. Replacing "never" with "it" brought her more friends, regular gohan -- meals -- a comfortable place to live, and dresses that gave her "nice style."

In America jewels and furs may put the twinkle in a damsel's eye but in Japan there's nothing like a thing called yen. Not to be confused with the yearning kind of yen, this yen is the big paper Japanese money that doubles for the American greenback.

She tries, though. God, how she tries:

She may not go so far as to become a blonde but she knows that there are many ways to attract a man. She realizes that occidentals from Brooklyn and any point west often admire lush curves. In the Jane Russell department Babysan is slightly understocked. So are many Japanese girls. But there are some western ideas that can be used without adaptation to enhance chisai chichi -- chisai means small, and even small chichi are better than no chichi at all.

She tries a western innovation and she succeeds -- a little awkwardly perhaps, but the jump is hurdled. A girl just doesn't step out of a wooden, toe-revealing geta into soaring, high-heeled shoes without wobbling a little, and she doesn't shed a kimono for a skirt and a sweater without looking a little "artificial." But on Babysan, the boyfriend insists, even "falsies" look good.

To be fair, the men aren't exactly gallant heroes themselves. They're often portrayed as brutish and intolerant of Japanese culture, despite Babysan's best efforts:

Babysan is smart. She may not always seem clever, but she has brains -- and uses them. Newcomers to the land of Fuji-san will bluntly state that no girl can outwit them. Such a statement confirms the fact that they are either deluded ignoramuses or that they haven't met Babysan. She will be careful not to appear too brilliant. She may even tell him frankly that she is a little dense, keep her mouth shut, and let him convince himself.

The strip was obviously meant for the lower rung of soldiers, occasionally getting rather satirical:

It makes me wonder what American soldiers are passing around these days. Our occupation in the Middle East has lasted just as long so maybe there's a burgeoning Muslim equivalent of Babysan. A man can dream, can't he?

When his ship pulls out the boyfriend's thoughts are with Babysan. He wonders how she will manage without him. He wonders if she feels the same sense of loss. Sure, he remembers her soothing words as she smiled up through a trace of tears. "I all time remember," but he wonders. He wonders if she too is lonely.

Since his ship is far, far away from the dock, he wonders. He never knows.