The bridge, or system of a down

Many of you may know that I live on the edge of the Agano River and the Sea of Japan. I run across the Matsuhama Bridge everyday about 8 times as it is almost exactly 1 km long. When you run at night, it's really a trip. There are ships that hang right below the horizon fishing for squid. You can see them because they use huge lights to attract the squid to their nets. Bad for the squid, wonderful for me.

Before I married Yoko, I wanted to marry the princess, Aiko. This, I thought, might put me in line to be the emperor. And not the kind of pussy-footing emperors of the past 50 years. No, I would reclaim the divinity and make people do my bidding. In a strange twist of fate: I am trying to find a good way to end this sentence. In a strange twist of fate, it didn't work out.

Who's Rumsfeld?

Bobby Byrd is my effing hero. (Yoko and I are thinking of naming our child Lao. This might seal it.)

Last night Allen Ginsberg waved goodbye
forever. Several bees, a scorpion and a butterfly
joined him in his departure, although I didn't
see them go off together. Their disappearance
was purely speculation. Before saying goodbye
Allen murmured that he doesn't believe
in a world of things. Why should he?
The end has never been the end,
and the universe is an open field of play,
a way of breathing. Here we don't know what
is going to happen one day to the next.
Except we will suffer. Except we will change.

System of a Down has been making sense to me again.