Play that funky music, wasshoi

There's a poetic simplicity to the Naked Man Festival - it doesn't try to be anything other than thousands of men dressed in loincloths beating each other to a pulp to try and get a stick the size of a Coke can. It must be very liberating to stamp on someone's face for that silly a reason. Given the choice between “participant” and “spectator” however, I soundly ticked the latter. The world really doesn’t need to see me in a loincloth.