Town to the restaurant of record; we will just grab a quick bite anywhere close by, and then Bono will take one of the cars back to the Four Seasons.

OH, NO, HE WON'T. Our driver blows a mental carburetor at this deviation from the schedule. He stops the car sideways in the middle of the traffic and jumps out, squawking simultaneously into his portable phone to his unseen master and to the driver of the other car, who has also bailed out and is equally beside himself that the natural order has been breached. Bono, not known for his ability to stay out of any argument, jumps out and jumps in, throwing a multilingual Tower of Babel patina onto the proceedings, while gridlocked motorists fume and honk in the cars around us. ... Hey—I just realized something spooky; they're actually not honking. Far more horrible, they're getting out and joining in the jittery lamentations.

The Buddha alone knows what mesh of strings has to be pulled or what the long-term repercussions for the economic stability of the West might be, but finally Bono is allowed to change his plans and take a car home ahead of schedule.

On the way back to the hotel an icy winter rain begins. The funny thing is that in spite of all the hassles, Bono is falling in love with Tokyo. He thinks it's the epitome of the ideas behind Zoo TV: embrac­ing the contradictions between the hidden side, the nightlife, the depth of respect for ancient traditions and rituals, and the amazing twenty first-century technology. These people splash electricity across their buildings like paint. Bono's pet phrase for the Zoo philosophy has been judo, jujitsu: using your enemy's strength against him. It's how the band reconciled their embrace of all the tools—commercialism, glamour, stardom, ostentation—to which U2's music and beliefs had previously stood in opposition. Art students might suss this stuff by sophomore year, but U2 are artists by instinct, not training. It took them a decade to figure it out.

U2's next job is a photo shoot with Anton, who flew in last night, just in time for Bono to take him back to Kabuki-cho. After walking around scouting locations for a while, Bono, Adam, Eric, and Anton picked a noodle joint at random, walked up the stairs, sat down and ordered dinner. Halfway through the meal sirens, screaming, and gun­shots erupted outside. The police, in full combat gear, were raiding the noodle place next door, apparently a front for some illegal activity.

469

"That wasn't an arrest!" Bono said as the cops withdrew. "That was an army invading a foreign country!"

Today's photo shoot begins in the same tough area, with Bono posing as if breaking into one of five black Bentleys lined up, he insists, since their Yakuza owners were dragged off by the cops last night. Bono may be getting ahead of the fact checkers here, but he certainly is succeeding in making U2's latest translator—code name: Oddjob— nervous. While Anton's shooting, another limousine comes down the narrow street and starts trying to nudge us out of the way. Black hat bodyguard David Guyer responds by violently smashing the umbrella he's holding over the car and shouting, "How do you like that, asshole?" Oddjob's ready to keel over. A couple of slick, mean-looking Japanese men lean out the window and lock eyes with David, shouting threats. He stands there silently daring them. They blink and drive away.

Eric, the white hat, wishes David wouldn't do that. David's a world-class martial artist, but Eric thinks he still has to internalize the turn-the-other cheek teachings of spiritual master Jerry Mele.

It's a little after four, getting dark. The rain has let up and all the neon is coming on. Bono is seduced and excited by what he calls the "fireworks in the architecture." He pulls me aside in front of a porno parlor and says mischievously, "Bill, I'm having an epiphany. We must make the next album here! At the end of a tour you get clues what the next stage should be." I have to swear not to tell Edge or Adam, who if they got wind of this suggestion at this point would hang Bono from a lamppost while shouting Sic semper tymnnis. While those two intellectuals are distracted, Bono puts the bug in Larry's ear and Larry says okay. It's like Bosnia all over again!

U2 pose for photographs in front of the symbols decorating the front of a sex shop. "All this beautiful script," Bono says with a sigh, "and it probably says 'Pussy.' " The owner of the porno shop comes screaming out the door, shooing Anton and his camera away while U2 laugh and Oddjob, the only one who can understand what the angry man is shouting, turns white and says we must get away fast, Yakuza protection!

As we walk through rows of flashing electric arcades and massage parlors and fast-food machines and sex shows, Bono says, "Well, you asked for it. Here it is. U2 at the end of the world."

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