Sunday 26 August 2007

The Poetry of the Grave

meifumadō aka "The Road to Hell"

"I have decided to escape, to defy the shogun. Today I will begin walking the road to hell. But you will choose your own path. So, soon you may be seeing heaven. Choose the sword, and you will join me. Choose the ball and you join your mother, in death. You don’t understand my words, but you must choose. So… come boy, choose life or death!"
- Ogami Ittō


Epilogue - The Lone Wolf and Cub
It's not yet winter, and not yet dawn. Black, dead branches rattle like dried bones, slapped by an icy wind. Curled, crumbling leaves whisper down a narrow mountain path. A pebble pops beneath a wooden wheel. Grey as the sky behind him, a man approaches, pushing a rough-hewn cart. The path is steep, but his step is steady. Somewhere in the darkness, something breathes. The man pauses, his black eyes fixed on the sound. Hidden until now by the filthy folds of his robes, his right hand rests lightly on his belt, thumb poised just below his sword's hilt. He almost smiles. In the cart a boy, a baby, sleeps, silent and unafraid.

Bushidō, The Warrior's Way
In Japan, centuries before the atom bomb, a weapon came into use that changed every aspect of Japanese life, from the shape of it's social structure to the nature of Japanese moral, philosophical, and religious thought. It was made by pounding, flattening, and folding a piece of red-hot steel so many times that each layer was many times thinner than a human hair, creating a blade sharper than any the world has seen, before or since. Those trained in its use were the power in the land, the warrior class, the samurai.
For dozens of generations, war was a constant in Japan, and the samurai ruled, and the sword was worshipped. A system of samurai ethics and philosophy formed, called bushido, or the warrior's way. Bushido gave to each kind of sword stroke a particular mystical context, and demanded that a samurai's soul be as sharp and perfect and merciless as the blade of his katana.
Bushido persisted, in fact flourished and was greatly embroidered, after the warlord Tokugawa united the provinces of Japan under a military dictatorship, bringing an end to the wars, casting samurai by the thousands into the shameful state of unemployment. They were ronin, the masterless samurai. They became beggars, drunks, and assassins, shunned and feared. Many committed ritual suicide. Many others threatened to do so at the houses of wealthy lords, embarrassing the lords into giving them money or food. More than ever, their swords were all that they had.

Seppuku, The Ritual Suicide
Their code of ethics and philosophy demanded that the samurai seek death before shame, and to feel no pain; suicide through this method of self-torture appealed greatly to the same fatalism that made the samurai so nearly invincible in combat.
It became wrapped in layers of etiquette and piled high in ceremony. By the time the Shogun institutionalized seppuku as the predominant form of samurai execution, it had become a solemn spectacle, witnessed by hundreds, with its every intricate detail a piece of precious tradition. Snow-white tatami mats were protected by red velvet. The samurai tucked his sleeves under his knees to prevent him from falling backward and disemboweled himself with a beautiful dagger, crafted for a single use. Another samurai, an executioner with the skill of a surgeon, would cleave the samurai's head from his shoulders, preferably leaving a flap of skin at his throat uncut so that the head would not roll across the floor.

Wednesday 22 August 2007

Tuesday 21 August 2007

Garden Of Love

- William Blake

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

Monday 20 August 2007

RC Sortee

Sunday 19 August 2007

K1000 SSS


Ayuthaya/ Siam/ Thailand






Wanna ride?

Mista Ting

One Man Blind Band

Bangkok, Thailand. Blind man playing the casio and singing off a walkover blaring over a tiny speaker for a handfull of coinage.

Saturday 18 August 2007

Food Glorious Food!


Snake Eyes

"Abstinence sows sand all over
The ruddy limbs & flaming hair,

But Desire Gratified

Plants fruits & beauty there."


















Gratified an ancient childhood desire to wear a
balaclava like my favourite G.I.Joe character: Snake Eyes!

For those who came in late, Snake-Eyes' real name, place of birth, and most other information about him have remained classified throughout all depictions of his origins; all that is known for certain about his military standing is that he holds the rank of U.S. Army Sergeant First Class (E-7) and has undergone Drill Instructor training. He is also the team's resident hand-to-hand combat instructor. Very little else about his past has been revealed.

Snake-Eyes is quiet in his movements and is a swift and deadly master of multiple martial arts. He is an expert in the use of the ninjato, which he usually carries in a pair of sheaths strapped to his back (but often uses only one). He is equally qualified with and willing to use standard weapons like firearms and explosives. Making him even more dangerous is that he has never relied on one set of weapons to the exclusion of others. For instance, in one mission, Snake Eyes is confronted by a ninja with a sai and he defeats him by simply throwing a standard grenade at him. In keeping with his personality, Snake-Eyes usually wears what could perhaps best be described as a black "military ninja" bodysuit, along with a balaclava and visor to cover his face.

Friday 17 August 2007

Croc Farm/ Harm?
















The Crocodile Farm

Bangkok | 12.08.07

Located in Samutprakarn, just outside Bangkok, the Crocodile Farm is the brainchild of Thailand’s highly publicised 'Crocodile King’, Mr. Utai Youngprapakorn. Recognised as the world’s largest centre for crocodiles, the Crocodile Farm aims to help preserve crocodiles by breeding them in captivity. The farm also acts as an education and research centre for the conservation of wildlife.

The main reason for a visit to the Crocodile Farm is though to see the shows they put on! It is possible to witness ‘Crocodile Wrestling’ and keepers putting their heads into crocodile’s mouths – quite amazing 'spectacles'. In case you failed to detect the hint of sarcasm potrayed in the written word using single quotes; allow me to elaborate. The daring dynamic duo submission wrestling with the crocs are according to my pretty guide, protected by ancient spells and incantations chanted before every show. These are meant to ensure the docility of the beast while the 'brave' man places his head in its jaws. I am not a PETA spokesperson though I might sign up if personally invited by Pam. Yet the very scene angered my very being and believe me I could just smell the fear the animal was in. IMHO the modus operandi is quite simple and brutal. The animals are beaten and manipulated to compliance via say a partially dislodged tooth striking which causes the animal to flinch and obey. The animal seemed to run from the wrestling arena each time it was provoked. Magic? I dont think so. Try the same with a beast in the wild and you could audition for the remake of 'Frankenstein'. Leaving with a bitter aftertaste moreso with the crowd applauding and throwing money to honor the 'heroes'.. Grrr! Im not a vegan. I grew up eating earthworms crawling in the mud and I just concluded this trip with fresh live squiggly prawns tickling my palate as they begin their journey to the land where the sun dont shine. Yet dominating a wild beast with devious methods of torture and submission while feigning victory is not something I approve of!

Im a fighting man and I wholeheartedly defend every being's right to defend itself and live in dignity. It is better to face death
and extinction than live a life demeaned to playing to a crowd for mere survival. John Agard has a poem in which the animals dream of exploiting humans in the way that humans exploit them. A deer says:

'I'd love to remove man's balls
And make a perfume.
I'd rub a little behind my horns
And call it musk.'

Monday 6 August 2007

Feline Fixacion

The Tyger - William Blake



















Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

An what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd the heavens with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Thursday 2 August 2007

Eenie Meenie Minie Moe.. Which way do i go?

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don't know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter...