japan– tag –

Planning a visit to Tokyo? Buckle up, because this city isn’t just about neon lights and sushi. It’s a place where design, culture, and a little bit of weirdness collide. If you’re looking to impress your artsy friends, find inspiration ...

【】 Welcome to the 21st century of food, where eating isn’t just about filling your stomach—it’s about saving the planet, questioning the meaning of life, and, most importantly, getting that perfect Instagram shot. Let’s be real: the wo...

Why do we seek fictional fear? Because that emotion overwhelms the rational knowledge of whether the threat is real (unlike sadness, which is easily dismissed). This explains the difference between Hollywood and J-Horror. Hollywood gives us physical terror—monsters that bite and claw. J-Horror, exemplified by The Ring, gives us psychological anxiety—the silent evil that crawls out of a video cassette, breaching the reality of our everyday life. This unique Japanese trait—finding a small dose of the extraordinary in the ordinary (like going to a public bath)—is what makes the horror so pervasive. Our furniture aims for a similar, though less scary, effect: making your everyday activities a little more special.

Why does Shōgun feel so "authentic" to us Japanese viewers, even though we've never seen a real samurai? I suspect our common image is a sophisticated fiction created by the entertainment industry. While the language barrier of the 17th century was real (we'd need translators!), the architectural detail is authentic, thanks partly to a Belgian historian advisor. This realism captured the era’s aesthetic: the appreciation of shadow and dimness. The implicit message is that true Japanese beauty is revealed only in the dark. Try it: find the perfect shadow for your furniture and discover the hidden elegance of the samurai era.

【】 When ice creams sell like hot cakes, many people are drowned. This is a famous example sentence to show the difference between correlation and causation. Yes, as you wise readers know, there is no causation between ice creams and dr...

Japan ranked second worst in the World Giving Index. We avoid debate, preferring to read between the lines. We argue that charity is fundamentally for self-satisfaction—and that’s fine! Let’s take the red pill, get out of capitalism, and do something irrationally kind. It’s the purest form of non-monetary profit.

Tomamu was a ruin left by Japan's Bubble Economy. We uncover the Unkai Paradox: its resurrection came not from a CEO, but a humble lift mechanic's observation. We analyze the success of the 'Unkai Terrace'—a tourism product based on luck and a 3-hour window—and how we captured that cloud-like comfort in our Mola sofa. Why drive nine hours for a chance at a cloud when you can guarantee a perfect simulation at home?

Why do people object to windmills? They say "natural landscapes are spoiled by artificial human structures." But I suspect this reflects human arrogance. I find validation in the words of sci-fi writer Stanisław Herman Lem: he argued that we see an anthill as "natural" but our houses as "artificial" because we believe we are beyond nature. If we accept that we are merely one part of nature, then a human structure is no more "artificial" than a structure built by a beaver. This perspective is liberating. Maybe we should stop seeing "artificial blight" where there is just a very tall anthill, built by nature's cleverest species.

The Universal Horror: The top co-occurrence word for "own voice" in a Japanese search is "ugly." We explore the Vocaloid Paradox: why Japan embraced Miku Hatsune’s synthetic voice, actively demanding a sound that is obviously artificial. This aesthetic of artificiality shows that human psychology is far more complex than the simple science of the 3000 Hz frequency. We have a plan to collaborate with her.

Why did our ancestors risk death to eat blowfish? I argue that the answer is not taste, but our insatiable human curiosity. I demonstrate this uncontrollable urge by sharing a behavioral science experiment where students voluntarily chose to receive an electric shock—repeatedly—just to satisfy their curiosity. This inherent human nature leads to our new product: Hokkaido Smoked Coffee, where beans are smoked using the wood chips from our furniture. Don't pretend you aren't curious; you can't help yourself. Risk a small shock of flavor!