if i had to nominate a "final boss" of japanese towers (if it is not yet clear, i am something of an authority on them), it would be the 大平和祈念塔 (lit. "Great Peace Prayer Tower"), or as i have sometimes seen it called for short, the "PL Tower"that former name has technically been shortened too, its full government name is 超宗派万国戦争犠牲者慰霊 大平和祈念塔 (yes that is still japanese). for one, it's obscure, it never shows up in sightseeing guides and the local tourism promotion office won't even mention it, less than a hundred review on google, it's one only the real tower maniacs know about. it's also a little annoying to get to, located on the fringes of osaka in one of its furthest southeast suburbs, awkwardly positioned in the middle of a "wedge" formed by two diverging train lines and thus a minimum 30+ minute partially uphill walk from either of them (ok there's a bus but i refuse to consider non-railed vehicles for public transportation). despite technically belonging to the heavily urbanized region that continues almost interrupted from the osaka city center 20 kilometers away, there's this strange suburban feeling that you're in the middle of nowhere, the urban rural.
there are basically no other potential tourist attractions in the vicnity of the tower, if you go out there it would have to be for the tower and the tower only, the most notable thing about the whole region is that it has the country's biggest cluster of ancient keyhole-shaped mound tombs (kofun). the tombs are generally accepted to be the tombs of some of japan's oldest emperors but nobody really knows for sure who's buried in them, most are surrounded by unbridged moats and entry is strictly forbidden due to their sacredness, the mounds are completely overgrown and it's possible nobody has set foot on them for decades or even centuries, though i'm sure at some point there must have been someone who couldn't resist and snuck across the moat under the cover of darkness. all of that is to say that the kofuns aren't much to look at, just a small hill covered in trees on the other side of some water, they're best appreciated from google maps satellite view where you can see their full keyhole shape and the way they interrupt the flow of the megalopolis.
there are of course plenty of other obscure and hard to reach towers in japan, where the PL tower stands alone is that it is the only one that was built neither for tourism nor for broadcasting, and it wasn't the product of bubble era excess either (having been built in 1970). as far as i know it is the only tower that was built for spiritual purposes, making it a fitting destination for a pilgramage. it was erected by one of japan's biggest cults (or as they're referred to in japanese, "new religions"), the "Church of Perfect Liberty"vintage web design enjoyers may want to take a quick peek at their website to serve as a holy site, a monument to all victims of war since the beginning of time. i suppose that as a sort of cenotaph, it does fit in with the rest of the gigantic tombs in the area...
at 180m tall, PL tower is actually quite tall for a japanese tower, it's taller than Phoenix Seagaia Ocean Tower, nearly twice as tall as Global Tower, in fact it's taller than all but three of the towers in the 20-tower all japan tower federation. being also built on a hilltop, it's consequently visible for quite a distance in the surrounding area, i wonder what it must feel like living with its pinnacle always on the horizon like tens of thousands of people probably do. it did make it easy to find my way towards it from the train station and up the hill on a road that seemed to cut right through the middle of the cult compound, walled in on both sides by barbed wire fences and every driveway guarded with a security checkpoint. for japanese standards the compound was impressively extensive and underdeveloped compared to the city around it, most of it seemed to be forests or parks with a few big buildings scattered around, i suppose the cult had put down its roots there long before the area had been absorbed into the rapidly-expanding osaka urban agglomeration.
the tower was actually located deep within the cult's territory, which required turning onto and then going down a long access road. the access road was right across the road from the "PL hospital" (what, your cult doesn't run a massive general hospital?) and clearly signposted for the tower, it looked a lot more welcoming than the other roads and had no guard posts, just a simple gate whose openness i interpreted as an indication that it was ok to enter. at the very least, as an obvious foreign tourist i basically have a universal get-out-of-jail-free card for wandering in pretty much anywhere that's not obviously secured. similar to the main road, the access road was also barricade on both sides because it cut right through the compound, though the vibe was completely different. it was a more ornamented, had some landscaping off on the right side where the sidewalk was, but the most dramatic difference was that it was completely abandoned. the sidewalk was somewhat overgrown so i walked in the road, it wasn't a problem at all because not a single car came by for the whole walk (both ways), i felt like i was in one of those apocalypse movies walking down an empty road, the only thing it was missing was a bunch of stopped cars left in complete disarray. the feeling was especially acute after having just been in the dense hustle and bustle of osaka city center only an hour or so prior.
oh, did i forget to mention that it’s also easily the craziest-looking tower in japan, if not the world?
the eerie emptiness only intensified when i reached the base of the tower, a vast gravel field that could've hosted a concert or carnival. walking across it alone felt downright cinematic, i could see myself from above in a dramatic tracking shot following a lone figure as it makes its way across monumental surroundings, finally approaching the objective of some solitary quest. i have referred to some of my previous trips as "pilgrimages" in jest, but this is the first one that really felt like it was some kind of spiritual journey, especially on the lonesome access road with my goal in sight ahead of me the whole time. though the tower's design looks sort of wacky when you look at it in pictures out of context, something about the vastness of the plaza it commands in front of itself seems to demand respect, lends it an air of seriousness, of dignity.
the entrance to the tower was a disarmingly normal automatic door with a sign that they were open for visitors, so i gathered some courage and made my way in to the inner sanctum. inside its solemn lobby, a single tall room with moody lighting that wrapped around a column containing elevators in the center, i was greeted by the tower's lone attendant, an elderly japanese man who spoke very little english. he tried his best to get across that he could only take me up as far as the second floor, the observation deck was closed to visitors. i was anticipating this because there had already been a sign outside saying "Attention: this tower is a sacred place of worship not a tourist attraction, the observation deck is closed to the public" (this is why it doesn't appear in any sightseeing guides btw), and accepted his offer to be guided up to the second floor.
in the elevator, i confessed to coming because i was a tower enthusiastin japanese "タワーマニア", マニア being essentially a gentler form of オタク and also to knowing some japanese, though he didn't entirely buy it and still tried to sprinkle in lots of english until a little later when i was able to provide the japanese word he was fumbling for. on the second floor, he motioned towards a big plaque in english and japanese that explained the purpose of the tower as a non-denominational monument commemorating all war victims everdo you want to know more?. the second floor's main feature was the shrine, which i will do my best to describe (photography was not allowed inside the tower)... it was large and abstract, made of layers of shiny wood and metal... uhhh... like imagine if buddhism had a protestant reformation and then they built an austere temple or shrine in the european functionalist or scandinavian modernist style... you know what, forget it. my guide pointed out some chests near the shrine and said that the names of ALL the victims of war were written down and stored in them, something i was somewhat doubtful of (now the mormons, on the other hand, actually are doing something like this). then, in front of the shrine, he invited me to make a prayer for peace, so i got down on my knees, clasped my hands together on top of the railing, and closed my eyes, solemnly kneeling there for a bit thinking about how all the wars going on right now are kind of bullshit (what, not all prayers have to be super deep and sophisticated, especially when you put me on the spot like that). i immediately regretted getting so over the top with the performance because i felt some slight pain upon getting down, putting pressure right on my knee wound from when i fell at aoshima just a few days before.
after i got up, the old man escorted me back down to the ground floor, giving me a little tour of the displays in the lobby. there were a couple sculptures by the cult's second leader and the tower's designer, including the sculpture that served as the model for the tower. looking at one of the other sculptures that looked pretty similar to the tower, my guide remarked "he sure was fond of holes..." he also explained the design of the tower, demonstrating with his hand that it was meant to resemble a finger pointing towards heaven. there were some chairs that i guess were also designed by the cult leader that he invited me to try sitting on, i meant to comment on them "they're not bad" but i think i accidentally said "they're bad". finally, he pointed out one final giant plaque on the wall with the 21 commandments of the Perfect Liberty church, apparently they don't really have any holy scriptures besides those. the first and most important one was "life is art", a sentiment i can agree with and that i've thought myself on occasion... but it doesn't clarify much because as i have wondered many times before, what even is art?
the tower did make one concession to the typical japanese tower tourist experience - as i was getting ready to leave, my guide led me over to a commemorative stamp they had near the entrance. i was about to decline because i had nothing on me to stamp (i really need to get something), but turns out they even provided little squares of paper. stamped paper in hand, i made my way down the grand staircase and across the field of gravel, in something of a daze after what i had just experienced. on the walk back down the access road, at some point i looked down and noticed that kneeling at the shrine in the tower had actually cracked open my knee wound and it was now bleeding dramatically, it genuinely looked worse at that point than went it had been fresh back at aoshima... i may have even left some blood on the floor in front of the shrine... a little sacrifice for world peace...
