October 6th, 2009


Terror-triumph of the Tarako cuckoo-kewpie!

The cod, the haddock, the whiting and the pollock are gadids, northern hemispheric fish which produce millions of eggs and spawn in great numbers. I have always had my suspicions about these fish, which prey on smaller fish and crustaceans, but recent events in Japan, related to the arrival of a viral new variety of gadidae known as the Tarako Kewpie, confirm that they are much more dangerous than any of us could have imagined.

What could be more wholesome than a fish-egg flavoured pasta sauce, you say? And why not let a harmless jar of pasta sauce have its own mascott in the form of a red, poddy, blobby, egg-shaped doll?

Are you still unconcerned when you discover that the gadid Tarako kewpies invaded the earth by way of a spacecraft hovering above the sea?

Doesn't it concern you that the child featured in the Tarako commercial is obviously based on the alien children in the horror film Village of the Damned, those "beautiful youngsters behind whose firey, hypnotic eyes lurk the demonic forces of another world"?

Certainly these two little girls seem harmless enough as they infiltrate the pop charts with the Tarako song... but will you ever get it out of your head?

And so -- while you gaze, oblivious, at your keitai -- these dangerous mutants, hybrids of gadid and daruma, invade our cities.

They walk amongst us, recruiting.

They even infiltrate product shoots for other commercials.

They get inside our children's heads, forcing them to drink beer and make their own Tarako commercials featuring Taraka Tomy Toddling Baby Robots. And still you are not alarmed?

By hijacking your hard-wired parental instincts, the alien eggs distract you -- they are distracting you right now -- from your computer screen, and the serious work you should be doing there, work without which you cannot bring home the bacon or put pasta on the table before your own children.

Even after the phallic red cuckoo-fish oust you from your own nest, even after you become jobless and homeless, you find yourself with your nose glued to the electronics store window, freezing cold, but with a little flame of joy in your heart as you watch the deadly red egg-spawn army making new conquests, taking over the world child by child.

All is lost now. There is nothing left for you to do but join the stinky red tide. Go on, pull on the costume! Sing the anthem! Waddle and bounce down the street, rank on rank, like unhatched fish! Forget yourself, leave all your anxieties and doubts behind! Recruit! Recruit! Tarako! Tarako!