19-10-29 18:29

Get it off your chest

カテゴリー Essays

The old inn was made for troubled pilgrims like me. Tatami mat floor, small table that can be folded and put away and a basic shower toilet about big enough to fit a largish, overweight child in. You paid a set price for the dinner on the night of arrival, the room and a huge breakfast the next day. About fifty dollars. Eat, collapse into sleep.. The problem was this ohenro pilgrim could not stand to eat raw fish, the principal ingredient of both meals. But when in Rome, and when in need of vital protein to walk thirty kilometers a day on, then you eat sashimi.   I was most definitely in rural Japan. This was the place the Japanese economic miracle had bi-passed on its way to Tokyo, Osaka and Nagoya. Here you could walk past half a dozen abandoned petrol stations and coffee shops in a day and marvel at the grass growing on the roofs and up over the entrances. Like the owners had teleported en masse. Nobody had the money to buy them or even to knock them down. So they were left to the

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19-10-27 12:03

The Plasma Bus

カテゴリー Essays

The Plasma Bus: Excerpt from the novel by rainbowjags on July 10th, 2010 Yokohama, Japan Circa 2009 Gabriel was beginning to feel slightly nervous. The six men in the Cadillac stretch limo now speeding towards Yokohama were obviously feeling it too. Nijitora was driving. He had been drinking all day as was his custom every day, every week. That was the old school of gangster boss in Japan. Or had he actually graduated from the Yakuza? This was what was weighing on Gabriel’s mind, having only met him a week before. Now he was unwittingly, and yes, perhaps even dangerously embedded in this very different world. Shit! The six men were all watching gangster rap videos in the back of the aged white limo. They all had identical and rather pretentious blazers on. Were they recruits in some bizarre new kind of private army? “ Shades of harakiri author and die hard imperialist, Yukio Mishima anybody? ” , mused Gabriel to himself as he pulsed to the music with them. “These guys would not know M

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19-10-26 12:00

No Man’s Land

カテゴリー Essays

“Fuck man what happened?” “Fishermen on the beach got me with a machete on the arm. Not too bad though, I managed to run off..” The American was the second guy in a week with a story like this. Driving the jeep across Tanzania I had heard a similar story from a local white man, the guy with the bandage on the head, the guy who needed me to drive his vehicle because of those weak spells. The lead pipe had fractured his skull two weeks earlier and the motive had been the same as the fishermen in Dar Es Salaam, the capital of this wobbly nation. Dough. Bread. Money.. Both guys had given me vicarious experiences in a manner of speaking. I had never gotten a driving license but who gives a shit in the Mikumi national park driving through elephants and giraffes, literally. “You know the worst thing can happen to you out here boy?” Shifting gears on the old landrover with a deep crunch I humoured Mr. Leadskull who was at least twice as old as my fledgling

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19-10-22 12:37

Out of the blue

カテゴリー Essays

So what is the real blue deal that IT comes out of? That is the question.. “It came to me out of the blue?” or.. ” I don’t know what happened I just got the job out of the blue!” or ..”She just showed up out of the blue.” Now we presume the blue is the sky, that great emptiness we all hang unaware of inside. Actually it is a brilliant metaphor for a not so obvious reason perhaps. The Heart Sutra uses the same Chinese character for Sky as Emptiness.  But we will get to that. One day we will, I promise…Here is a taste of emptiness.. Listen Sariputra, this Body itself is Emptiness and Emptiness itself is this Body… And the opposite? A watched kettle never boils..in other words expectation is a two edged sword that more often than not decapitates your dreams. Expect the unexpected is the only expectation that works.. There is a truly shitty place in Kabul. Literally! Kabul in 1971 had a public shit square right in the middle of town as

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19-10-16 11:23

Pee on a tree, I am free..

カテゴリー Essays

  I have just teleported into the 20 year old body of an impoverished traveler in a hut somewhere near Gorgora. The last thing I remember was almost passing out at 33 feet trying to keep up with that clan of bottlenose dolphins. Having never been able to dive this deep it was probably the sudden strain on a 67 year old vintage planetary carcass that did it. Shit! I have now gone haywire into my own eternal timelines and am doomed to relive the fever..I only passed out for a second I swear..but that is easily long enough when you see how time operates beyond our decrepit understanding of reality. Sickness is a fine way to alter consciousness. Catholic saints used to pray fervently for the worst case diseases imaginable for men or women. God give me a kickass sickness so that I may know you! St. Theresa of Avila who had been a stunning beauty that all the men wanted and all the women hated for her magnetic communication skills spent three years in a sick bed. They did the last rite

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19-10-14 13:12

Intraterrestrial Intelligence

カテゴリー Essays

Intraterrestrial Intelligence: ET came home long, long ago.. by echan deravy Like most things that singe your cortical wrinkles it had all started off rather innocently. An old guy walks into the room. He shuffles over to an armchair and lights up a Marlborough then gets settled in to read another trashy novel. He asks for a glass of milk. His grey hair is unkempt and his answers are short. You might think ..early Alzheimer’s. He dresses like a tramp on vacation and has no socks on. He must be seventy five if he is a day. His name is John Cunningham Lilly. It is a chilly morning in Kyoto circa 1992 as I escort him now down to the local kissaten, the coffee shop where morning service is..well and truly served for the meagre amount of 400 yen i.e. less than three US dollars. That means toast and coffee with a boiled egg on the side. No refills though. The long set of stone stairs from the top of Yoshidayama requires careful navigating. This man’s mind is important. I cannot possibly be

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19-01-03 12:40

The fool and the dog

カテゴリー Essays

Well I had a stick like the guy in the picture and I had a bag, though not on the stick but rather on my back, with a ten kilo medicine ball in it. I was not hanging off a cliff. But I was smelling the flowers. Let me explain before I get to the dog..that bloody great muckle beast of a German Shepherd. It is my wont to walk barefoot in the mornings. It is Winter in Japan and I know that guy with his New Year kite thought I was a completely crazy old bugger. Fair enough. He looked almost offended that I should so disgrace the neighbourhood by walking on its white, frosty grass with my white, shoeless feet. Or maybe I was completely wrong and he was just walking by.. That is the moral of this story actually, if you like yours with morals. Do not assume anything and do not take anything personally..two of those hefty four agreements I had learned over the years and often forgotten to activate inside this aging skull. Who knows what anybody thinks anyway? I mean, how could you?? Up the hi

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