Tokyo doesn't love us anymore

There are things we all want to forget. He represents The Company: offering a range of the latest chemicals designed to make the consumer forget. Perhaps just one incident - as harmless as an affair, as harmful as a murder - or even a whole life. He moves through a world of cynical consumerism, be it in Arizona, South East Asia or Europe, under the constant scrutiny of The Company. The alienating environments that surround him intensify the feeling that he does not belong to any one country, place or, indeed, time. His life is spent in transit on deserted motorways or in crowded airports and anonymous hotel rooms, punctuated by business contacts with similarly nameless customers and random, meaningless sexual encounters. This is a life without guilt, without personal responsibility: under the influence of the chemicals he sells, he finds his past and present, along with his own identity, disintegrating. He forgets he even exists . . .