cow at home

bacon

We're going to the movies!  I go to pick up my friend, Albert, so we won't be late.   After I meet him we drive a short distance and park.  Albert is opposed to parking, and when we get out of the car I see why.  He is barefoot, and he's injured one leg.  But the walk is relatively short, taking some short cuts through residential yard, and we're there.  Albert is pleased, as am I.  But maybe we're too early.  The movie starts at one and it's only eleven thirty now.  There's a huge crown in front of the theatre.  Some people are wearing costume-like clothing, dressed as typical 1970's suburban television housewives.  A man says something, perhaps about expecting a great film.  His hands are apparent, and as I notice them the skin peels open as if made of clay and shapes itself into clay forks.  The forks break off from his arms and fall to the ground.  This happens to another man's hands as well.  I realize now that these two are truly great movie fans.  Nevertheless, there's something sick and macabre about them.  Strips of bacon are appearing on the ground, cooked soggy, not crisp.  I hate soggy bacon.  Women are picking up the bacon and eating it.  There are now many dogs lazily laying on the ground, on their stomachs, eating the bacon too.  A few of us are revulsed and spit on the ground.  Although I haven't eaten any of the bacon my mouth feels revolting, and I keep spitting, slowly allowing the spittle to drop to the ground rather than ejecting it forcefully.

26 october 2005

I am in Japan, again.  I make my way through Chofu station, out to Nishi Chofu, to the apartment where Kazu's mother and family now live.  I am obliged to stay with them.  I even remember the short cut through the dark restaurant.  It is crowded, and just as I remember it.
What I find remarkable is how immensely clean it all is.  Now I am outside and it is hilly.  I am looking down into clear aqua bays, a soft sandy bottom and coral outcroppings visible below, with apartment buildings built right up to the water's edge.
If I lived here, I could just open my window and jump in the water.  The air is cold.  But is the water?  It looks tropical; not a spot of trash.  But now I can't figure out how to go to Nishi Chofu.
How beautiful Tokyo is.

whale

I am floating in mid-air above a glacial bay, a vast table of flat rock exposed with the low tide. Monstrous whale-beasts rise out of the frozen sea and feral humans, clothed in animal skin run wild on shores which are strewn with massive impaled carcasses. Whale slaughter is in progress. I drop swiftly and plunge into icy depths.