Author: Justin

Monkeys & Teak

There was a post on Mefi today that got me to thinking about zines. I’ve been in Japan for over 10 years so my access to them has basically been whatever my brother sent me, as well as a few I managed to pick up on trips back home, but… I think I’ve always harbored a desire to start a zine. I came close to almost starting some type of project a couple times back in high school, but pretty much gave up after having an article on my grandfather’s internment during WWII published by the LA Times. For a nerdy teenager, it felt like the apex of my writing, quite frankly. So I never gave it much thought after that, until quite recently.
You see, blogging partially fills the void that I think publishing a zine or tackling a more demanding project does, so for the time being, it is sufficient. I just don’t have the time to take on any more creative pursuits right now. Blogging is good in this respect. I can sit down at the computer, which I’m often on anyways, and bang out whatever’s on my mind (hence the name of this blog). Blogging doesn’t take as much effort, most of the time, than it does to publish on other mediums. I, as a salaryman, am extremely thankful for it.
However, I find myself thinking about what I will do when I move to Thailand, and the possibilities that will open for me there. At this point in time, I have no solid plans at all (although I do have a strong desire to create an army of monkeys and a teak forest, among other things). There may very well be a stretch of time there for me to get really creative. I am getting excited just bullshitting about this here… And I forget what I originally wanted to say. And now I have to run off to a meeting.
Last thought: I think I could make a good run at creating a succesful zine just for the Khaosan road, however, I would probably get sick of covering that death trap reeeeal quick.

Spicy Catfish Salad

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Unsurprisingly, a lot of the photos I took in Thailand were of food. This was a spicy salad with sliced onions, cashews, peanuts, fried chilis, green mango, tamarind, fresh lemongrass, mint leaves and other assorted greens, topped with deep fried catfish. The roadside diner it was served at offered a spectacular view of the Chao Phraya river, and the broken platter only added to the authenticity of the food. It was so well done, the flavors of the salad would come in separate waves of sweet, sour, and spicy.
I don’t know about you, but I’m salivating, and it’s times like this when miso soup and a bowl of rice seem really, really boring.

Papayas in Winter

I have two brick planters out in front of my house (approx. 1 ft. x 5 feet total planting space) where the future of Yoshida Papayas, Ltd., lies. Last summer, on a whim, Nam threw some papaya pits on the soil we’ve seen trying to enrich for the past few years (it was rock-hard dirt when we moved in), and much to my surprise, sprouts appeared after a couple weeks. By fall, they had grown into 3 foot saplings and sprouted very healthy and broad tropical leaves. I became quite fond of them because they looked so out of place in my old neighborhood; vibrant green in a sea of brown and aging wooden houses. I began referring to them as my “papaya forest,” and cleared away all the other plants we had out there.
When the first frost came with winter, they perished in a very ugly fashion – eveything turned black and mushy, and I didn’t even have to clear their corpses as they melted into the earth. I was sad. However, I have had similar experiences with jasmine and other warm-loving, beautiful, wimpy plants in the past, so I knew it was just a matter of trying again this year.
Since we already have learned to transfer the jasmine into pots and bring them in for the winter, I figure it should work just as well for the papaya trees, although they are a bit deeper rooted.
I asked my brother to transfer the papayas today, but I’m secretly hoping he forgets. I miss the feeling of dirt under my fingernails and the moist earth drying on my palms.

Dumbass Gaijin Gets Cyberspanked

Somebody on a mailing list I subscribe to just sent me an e-mail asking if I feel bad “for using the Buddah’s (sic) name in vain” on my website.
I am at a loss for words, loser. Therefore:
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Getting angry over heated mailing list postings is understandable to a certain extent, but grow the fuck up already, you little crybaby bitch. Or go weep into your pillow instead of biting it for a change.