July 5 Is the End of the World. Come Celebrate With Me on July 6
A manga artist in Japan has predicted that the world will be struck by a terrible disaster on July 5th and that The Land of The Rising Sun Will Sink Under a Godzilla Level Tidal Wave. Bollocks (嘘八百)
If you’ve been in Japan long enough, you know the end is always nigh—but never quite arrives. Sort of like Jesus Christ. Or the third arrow of Abenomics. The Apocalypse—like the last train from Shibuya, it’s always almost here. This week’s doomsday offering, served hot and steaming from the internet’s spiritual buffet, is the prophecy that on July 5, 2025, Japan will be swallowed by a tsunami so enormous, it will make the March 2011 disaster look like a splash in a kiddie pool. And not just any tsunami—no, this one has been foretold in a dream by a manga artist, printed in a comic book, confirmed by a YouTuber from Taiwan who also reads tarot for cats—and verified by CHAT GPT.
The prophet in question is Ryo Tatsuki, often referred to with a straight face as “Japan’s Baba Vanga,” which is flattering if you ignore that Vanga’s track record included predicting World War III in 2010 and that Barack Obama would be the last U.S. president. (Check your calendar. We’re way past both.)
For an older generation, Ryo Tatsuki is referred to as "Japan's Nostradamus".
Tatsuki shot to fame for seemingly predicting the 2011 earthquake and tsunami—her 1999 manga The Future I Saw (私が見た未来) included a reference to a “great disaster in March 2011,” which has since convinced a small but vocal cult of believers that her dreams are direct memos from the universe, only slightly less vague than your daily horoscope. In her revised edition, she claims she dreamed of a giant seaquake on July 5, 2025, somewhere in the waters between Japan and the Philippines, followed by a tsunami (tidal wave) of biblical proportions. This will be the Godzilla of Tidal Waves--The Last Wave! It may sound ridiculous but thousands of people from Hong Kong and China have cancelled their flights and plans to visit to Japan. Journalist Johan Nylander recently posted pictures of his nearly empty flight from Hong Kong to Japan, on his LinkedIn account, to prove the point.
Now, let me pause to say: I don’t want to mock people’s real-life trauma. Japan has suffered some real, devastating disasters—earthquakes that flattened cities, tsunamis that swallowed coastlines, and government press conferences that put the “meh” in emergency. If you really want to predict tragedy, bet on Japan having another nuclear disaster. And in fact, Toshio Kimura, a nuclear engineer who worked for TEPCO predicted the nuclear meltdown at Fukushima six years before it happened (read Tokyo Noir: In and Out of Japan’s Underworld-Chapter 15/The Dark Empire). But that’s exactly why this end-of-days cosplay deserves ridicule. It’s not trauma-informed; it’s trauma-exploitative.
Despite scientists and the Japan Meteorological Agency saying, repeatedly, and with increasing sighs, that you cannot predict earthquakes by date, the rumor has exploded across East Asia like the bubble tea craze once did. Tourists from Hong Kong and Taiwan are canceling flights, hotel bookings have plummeted, and somewhere in Shibuya, a 24-hour konbini is selling out of bottled water and CalorieMate because someone saw a TikTok warning of the coming doom. It’s not a disaster—it’s a branding opportunity.
Now, if you’re like me—and I hope you are—you might be tempted to ride this wave of hysteria straight to a good time. I’m tentatively planning a “We Survived July 5” BBQ on July 6, assuming the BBQ doesn’t float away on an inland sea of melted asphalt. Bring your own beer, your own irrational fears, and maybe a manga artist or two for after-dinner entertainment. I’ll provide the grilled eggplant and a reading of "The Future I Saw" in a dramatic voice, just to keep it festive.
At the very least join me for a live (or undead 🧟)substack after midnight Japan time at 00:01 am on July 6th.
Let’s be honest: if you’re living in Japan, you’re already committed to low-level existential dread. Earthquakes? Sure. Typhoons? Absolutely. Xenophobic politicians trying to get you kicked out of Japan? Possible. Unwanted shoving on the Yamanote Line? Daily. What you don’t need is a pop-prophecy triggering mass hysteria and economic turbulence over a dream some poor woman had probably after a late-night bowl of miso ramen.
And let’s not forget that even Tatsuki herself, in a rare moment of lucidity, stepped back from the ledge in a recent interview. She said, “Just because I dreamt it doesn’t mean it will happen.” That’s not exactly the kind of messianic certainty you’d expect from someone foretelling the collapse of civilization. Nostradamus never hedged like that--as far as we know.
But the meme economy doesn’t run on logic. It runs on drama. And this one has it all: apocalyptic waves, blurry screenshots of tectonic plates shaped like skulls, influencers selling quartz necklaces to ward off seismic energy, and elderly fortune tellers nodding sagely into the camera like they know something we don’t. (Spoiler: they don’t.)
It’s tempting to laugh, but it’s also a little sad. Because deep down, the July 5 hysteria isn’t about faith in prophecy—it’s about a lack of faith in everything else. In government preparedness, in media integrity, in science’s ability to protect us. It’s about being afraid and looking for answers, any answers, even if they come in the form of a comic book panel.
So what can we do? We can do what the Japanese do best in times of crisis: make bento, be polite, and wait for the weather report. And maybe—just maybe—come together on July 6, raise a glass of sake, and toast to another apocalypse that failed to show up.
Because if the end really does come, I’d rather face it drunk, laughing, and in good company than hiding under my kotatsu with a can of Boss Coffee and a bucket of regret.
Bring sunscreen. Bring salt. Leave the superstition.
Join me at an ungodly hour live on Substack on July 6th at 00:01. There’s a better chance that my livestream is a technical disaster than there is that the prophesized disaster will come true. And if I can find the right place, join me for the The World Has Ended BBQ on July 6th. I’ll be the one wearing a T-shirt that says, “I survived the July 5 tsunami that never happened, and all I got was this lousy sense of déjà vu.”
If these result in huge drops in tourists, can we get her to pump out five more?
Doesn't look like the "we survived" event will happen. Cheers to my fellow survivors.