Sunday, May 15, 2016
Oriental Notions
-With the new bullet train, Etsuko had to decide
faster than she was used to.
-The romantic conclusion?
-She sent her brother to turn him around at
the station.
-Thus, Malcolm back to Massachusetts?
-And Etsuko into the practiced arms of a man
who runs Yokohama jewelry stores.
-Her gracing each in turn: Kimono, and offering tea?
-Wouldn't want to short your stereotypes.
-How about Malcolm's? American True-Blue!
-He goes with the woman who manages his
softball team. All facts and figures.
-Not THAT type!
-Not in the bedroom: she only stops to pee!
-Grossly American! I can't even VISUALIZE
Etsuko's tinkle.
-From the people who brought us The Bataan
Death March!
-She transcends all History!
-Did you ever see Nelly make water?
She pisses a hell of a stream.
It goes for a mile and a quarter.
And you can't see her ass for the steam.
-Make it all vulgar! And folk!
-What it is. Hey! Pretty little Etsuko saw
her life and then invented it!
-Like we all don't?
Labels: Bataan, Bataan Death March, folk, grace, Japanese, match-making, Romance, sex, softball, vulgar
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Spirit and Truth
Many Japanese have soft-
ly spoken to trees and
rocks in The Moss-
Covered Forest. Rape
of Nanking kept from
them: understood.
In any case,
moss muffles
history for good.
Labels: history, Japanese, Nature, Rape of Nanking
Tuesday, July 01, 2014
Forgiveness For Common Sins
The Japanese Do Corporate
Apology. Tears in shrink-
ing humiliation.
Our CEO tosses it off,
face on Empty. Acting
coach inquired of,
but needs a center
to resonate with:
Board had picked chief
since he possessed none.
Each member serves on
various boards hiring newer
moralists. Multiplier effect,
like delusion
or theft.
Labels: apology, CEO, corporate governance, delusion, Japanese, theft
Friday, November 22, 2013
The Sad Art of Being a Yes Man
CEO
“I don't want individuals who are right! Or wrong.
Both in embroidered shirts.
That's cats and dogs!
Only the team has to be right. Japanese understand this.
How about me? I'm always right!
Joking, but I'm my only critic mid the deafening
ass-kissing.”
Labels: CEO, Japanese, management, team, yes man
Saturday, June 05, 2010
The Incident
Yes, Japanese have wit. And some of it sarcastic. I give Mr Y the perfunctory bow, but mean it. He points out he doesn’t want clutter on the storeroom floor and instructs me to put one of the seldom-used printers on the scaffolding far above.
I climb the wheeled ladder with it and shoulder the printer into its niche, but lack the restraining strap. I explain to Mr Y it’s in my desk. He frowns as I begin climbing down--having lost face of course.
Suddenly the ladder whips left, then right, and back. Mr Y blankly stares at me as if I’m supplying some magical power. It’s an earthquake and everything shakes. Mr Y pitches forward to his knees just as the printer tumbles past me onto
his gray head.
I sub on the company’s emergency medical team and, when I can get off the ladder, ascertain he’s unfortunately dead.
I run for the strap, cut it with scissors and score and gouge
the two ends with a screwdriver. Climb back up the ladder and...well you know.
Then, see were I can help out the nurses.
Detective Hirwatari looks quizzical later, but shrugs. “Strap broke and printer fell--open and shut. But my superiors insist on report. And as crazy as it sounds, they’ll want to do forensics on that busted strap.”
So up I go to fetch it, sagging on the ladder as I anticipate disgrace and prison. Almost praying for an aftershock to distract him.
His cell phone sounds–-Eleanor Rigby ringtone would you believe?--and he becomes quite animated. “All right.
All right! Many dead in Komura district, so very many more reports needed! Damn Japanese preservationists want ancient neighborhoods saved. History, don’t you know?
A history of toothpicks!”
I hand him the strap. He glances at it and flings it
into the clutter.
Yes, Japanese have wit. And some of it sarcastic. I give Mr Y the perfunctory bow, but mean it. He points out he doesn’t want clutter on the storeroom floor and instructs me to put one of the seldom-used printers on the scaffolding far above.
I climb the wheeled ladder with it and shoulder the printer into its niche, but lack the restraining strap. I explain to Mr Y it’s in my desk. He frowns as I begin climbing down--having lost face of course.
Suddenly the ladder whips left, then right, and back. Mr Y blankly stares at me as if I’m supplying some magical power. It’s an earthquake and everything shakes. Mr Y pitches forward to his knees just as the printer tumbles past me onto
his gray head.
I sub on the company’s emergency medical team and, when I can get off the ladder, ascertain he’s unfortunately dead.
I run for the strap, cut it with scissors and score and gouge
the two ends with a screwdriver. Climb back up the ladder and...well you know.
Then, see were I can help out the nurses.
Detective Hirwatari looks quizzical later, but shrugs. “Strap broke and printer fell--open and shut. But my superiors insist on report. And as crazy as it sounds, they’ll want to do forensics on that busted strap.”
So up I go to fetch it, sagging on the ladder as I anticipate disgrace and prison. Almost praying for an aftershock to distract him.
His cell phone sounds–-Eleanor Rigby ringtone would you believe?--and he becomes quite animated. “All right.
All right! Many dead in Komura district, so very many more reports needed! Damn Japanese preservationists want ancient neighborhoods saved. History, don’t you know?
A history of toothpicks!”
I hand him the strap. He glances at it and flings it
into the clutter.
Labels: Japanese
