Society, Part 12
The $592 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Two Up
Shark America Eight Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 225
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Society (12)
Today's code is "84th Day, Last Year".
Here is a mystery for the mystery pile, for about a week I have been talking about a military type sniper on the move against Hillary Clinton; and in the news is the flap about her statements about coming under sniper fire in Bosnia.
Coincidence is the rockets' red glare if God's Space War; and this coincidence encourages me to stick to my guns on this story about Republican American Fascism's plot to assassinate Ms. Clinton and other ranking Democrats.
Yesterday I told you about something evil the American government planned to do, and that America would be punished for it.
The full quote was, "It looks like the United States of America is about to be hurt very badly; this is because it is about to do something incredibly, openly, evil."
Well, the snakes did it--they attempted to murder of a totally innocent person--so now I watch the news for news of God's return punishment of American psycho-fascism.
I can't tell you this whole story today because the play is motion. I can, however, give you some codes that will fill out this story nicely when it comes time to tell it. The codes are "Tiger", "Heel", and "Moo".
Now let's return to our story of The Not-Forgetting Society; as Tea learns more about the Society's plan to explode two nuclear devices in the United States of America in vengeance for Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Society, Part 12
Those in the know, know ghosts like parties.
"In this seance," Matsushita was saying as he began pouring the next round, "our friends here," indicating the women with a tilt of his head and a toast of his cup, "will be something like ghost bait. Don't you find that quaint?"
There is was. Had Tea heard the word "quaint" spoken ten times in his life? Very few things were quaint. But, yes, the quaintness of it all, that was the Society's camouflage.
Tea was tapping into something too incredible to easily to begin to incorporate, not to mention print in newspapers, but, as he recorded the experience for the history books, "It was all so fucking quaint that it was almost impossible to detect its deadly seriousness."
Apparently literally thousands, tens of thousands, of dead Japanese soldiers were very likely coming up with some kind of massive weapon, and it was all so well camouflaged by its quaintness that Tea was here tripping through the tulips like it was just a party.
Tea knew, for example, it was only the support of the Japanese dead that was keeping him alive right now; that he was drinking sake' with a man who would have murdered him if he had had the vote.
Matsushita's cheeks were red from the sake', as were those of the two women, a telltale sign of intoxication in Japanese.
Atsuko poured a round, then Tazuko, each relieved by someone so they would not have to pour for themselves.
Throughout this pouring and drinking Matsushita described the concept of the seance.
"The ghosts are dead Japanese soldiers, after all," he was saying, as if all this was absolutely logical, "and bathing with living Japanese women is high pleasure for them. Therefore, I say the women are like bait.
"The sake' is also bait," he added. "The dead can smell it, even get a little drunk on it."
The two women began to walk away from Tea and Matsushite, wading through the hip deep water toward the opposite side of the bathing pool, each carrying two containers of sake'. They looked more like Shinto nuns than geisha now, which is perhaps closer to what they were, with their long hair tied back with red ribbons and trailing in the water.
Their quiet laughter could be heard by Tea and Matsushita across the steamy bath. Their "bodies of deer" as the Japanese compliment about the form of women went, moved slowly, and glistened through the mist.
The women were excited about encountering the dead soldiers, there being no horror to it, but rather a social-ness. It would be the spirits of the fighting men they would meet, not their decomposed bodies left on distant battlefields.
The further away they waded the more gossamer they were to the eyes of the two living men.
Suddenly Matsushita sucked in air between his teeth in the way of Japanese men expressing an increase in inner tenseness.
"Look! Look to where the women are now! See how they are at the far side of the bath ready pour sake'? See how they are about half blanked out by the steam?"
"Sure."
"O.K., Tea-san, now see if you can see any odd swirls in the steam, any clear human form or part of a human form..."
Tea looked. It took a moment. The first thing he saw was a fine-boned hand holding a ghostly sake' cup.
"Do you see that hand?", Matsushita asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes."
"That will be the point man. He'll sniff out for traps. If he sees anyone who should not be here he'll leave, and the seance will be canceled. Same if he spots a camera."
"There he is!," Tea said, pointing.
A Japanese male of about 18 was clearly outlined in the fog next to the bath. He was naked, but held a towel in front of him with his right hand, in his left was a sake' cup.
"Aaaa, so," said Matsushita with a grin "He's saying he's a hidarikiki."
Tea knew the common expression. It meant to drink with the left hand, to be a strong drinker, an admirable quality.
The ghost was stepping into the water. The two women were waiting, holding the sake containers. They bowed from the waist in welcome.
Outside, beyond the window, a huge wave rolled in, striking the rocks and sending spray high into the air. Sea birds were flying by.
The point man, now standing in the bath, was bowing to the ladies.
Then he acknowledged the presence of Matsushita and Tea with a bow in their direction. His face was indistinct. He was thick fog upon thin fog.
Other forms began to emerge within the steam, thickening slowly as each ghost "bore down", as Tea came to call the concentration of consciousness required for transdimensional travel.
"They ride in best in this steam," Matsushita was saying, "and upon scents, their favorites being sake' and the female sex scent; and stormy weather seems best, they call it 'static liquid" and say they can 'adhere' to it better."
Atsuko began waking slowly back toward Tea and Mastushita, her furred mound was like a ship's bow in the water, her torso a ship's figurehead. She was smiling at Tea. She was returning for more sake'.
Behind her, Tazuko was going from ghost to ghost to ghost in the slow motion dictated by the depth of the water, pouring the rice wine into cups held out by the ghosts, the sake' falling through the concentrated nothingness into the water.
Atsuko took Tea's and Matsushita's cups from them and walked to where the waiting trays had been placed. Tea was surprised to see that fresh sake' and fresh cups had been brought in at some point. When she brought them the cups, Tea saw they were different in that while the first had been simply milk white, the new cups were milk white with a red dot on the inner bottom. The water-clear hot sake' enlarged the red dot when poured in.
The red dot, Atsuko told Tea as she poured, represented the red sun on the flag of Japan. This second batch of sake', she said, was brewed in Hiroshima, reminding Tea again that, amid this fanciful beauty and ceremony, revenge was the nature of the dance they were dancing, and that he, Tea, was up to his neck in the hot water of dangerous knowledge.
Atsuko poured for Matsushita, and then the men took turns giving her their cups for her to drink from; she'd long since put her own cup down.
After visiting with them for a few minutes she took four fresh containers of sake' and plowed back toward the ghosts.
Tea and Matsusita were both drunk by this time. The hot water and hot wine had cooled for a time the static between them.
On the other side of the bath so much sake' had been poured into the water that its sweet scent was hanging on the droplets of mist. There was a separateness between the living men and the dead men, as if two separate groups of inn guests were bathing at the same time. The chance looks exchanged were friendly, but except for polite nods there was no attempt to talk across the water. The social distance was needed, Tea understood, to keep the ghosts from being "awakened" by the living.
The women were on one level a bridge between the two worlds, but on another they were like waitresses in a restaurant serving drinks to unrelated customers.
Slowly, quietly during this activity, the some 20 men from the night before, came in and entered the bath, to be greeted with nods and bows from the dead soldiers.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the USA, unaware it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 84th day of its last year.
Jews Jaws Two Up
Shark America Eight Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 225
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Society (12)
Today's code is "84th Day, Last Year".
Here is a mystery for the mystery pile, for about a week I have been talking about a military type sniper on the move against Hillary Clinton; and in the news is the flap about her statements about coming under sniper fire in Bosnia.
Coincidence is the rockets' red glare if God's Space War; and this coincidence encourages me to stick to my guns on this story about Republican American Fascism's plot to assassinate Ms. Clinton and other ranking Democrats.
Yesterday I told you about something evil the American government planned to do, and that America would be punished for it.
The full quote was, "It looks like the United States of America is about to be hurt very badly; this is because it is about to do something incredibly, openly, evil."
Well, the snakes did it--they attempted to murder of a totally innocent person--so now I watch the news for news of God's return punishment of American psycho-fascism.
I can't tell you this whole story today because the play is motion. I can, however, give you some codes that will fill out this story nicely when it comes time to tell it. The codes are "Tiger", "Heel", and "Moo".
Now let's return to our story of The Not-Forgetting Society; as Tea learns more about the Society's plan to explode two nuclear devices in the United States of America in vengeance for Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Society, Part 12
Those in the know, know ghosts like parties.
"In this seance," Matsushita was saying as he began pouring the next round, "our friends here," indicating the women with a tilt of his head and a toast of his cup, "will be something like ghost bait. Don't you find that quaint?"
There is was. Had Tea heard the word "quaint" spoken ten times in his life? Very few things were quaint. But, yes, the quaintness of it all, that was the Society's camouflage.
Tea was tapping into something too incredible to easily to begin to incorporate, not to mention print in newspapers, but, as he recorded the experience for the history books, "It was all so fucking quaint that it was almost impossible to detect its deadly seriousness."
Apparently literally thousands, tens of thousands, of dead Japanese soldiers were very likely coming up with some kind of massive weapon, and it was all so well camouflaged by its quaintness that Tea was here tripping through the tulips like it was just a party.
Tea knew, for example, it was only the support of the Japanese dead that was keeping him alive right now; that he was drinking sake' with a man who would have murdered him if he had had the vote.
Matsushita's cheeks were red from the sake', as were those of the two women, a telltale sign of intoxication in Japanese.
Atsuko poured a round, then Tazuko, each relieved by someone so they would not have to pour for themselves.
Throughout this pouring and drinking Matsushita described the concept of the seance.
"The ghosts are dead Japanese soldiers, after all," he was saying, as if all this was absolutely logical, "and bathing with living Japanese women is high pleasure for them. Therefore, I say the women are like bait.
"The sake' is also bait," he added. "The dead can smell it, even get a little drunk on it."
The two women began to walk away from Tea and Matsushite, wading through the hip deep water toward the opposite side of the bathing pool, each carrying two containers of sake'. They looked more like Shinto nuns than geisha now, which is perhaps closer to what they were, with their long hair tied back with red ribbons and trailing in the water.
Their quiet laughter could be heard by Tea and Matsushita across the steamy bath. Their "bodies of deer" as the Japanese compliment about the form of women went, moved slowly, and glistened through the mist.
The women were excited about encountering the dead soldiers, there being no horror to it, but rather a social-ness. It would be the spirits of the fighting men they would meet, not their decomposed bodies left on distant battlefields.
The further away they waded the more gossamer they were to the eyes of the two living men.
Suddenly Matsushita sucked in air between his teeth in the way of Japanese men expressing an increase in inner tenseness.
"Look! Look to where the women are now! See how they are at the far side of the bath ready pour sake'? See how they are about half blanked out by the steam?"
"Sure."
"O.K., Tea-san, now see if you can see any odd swirls in the steam, any clear human form or part of a human form..."
Tea looked. It took a moment. The first thing he saw was a fine-boned hand holding a ghostly sake' cup.
"Do you see that hand?", Matsushita asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes."
"That will be the point man. He'll sniff out for traps. If he sees anyone who should not be here he'll leave, and the seance will be canceled. Same if he spots a camera."
"There he is!," Tea said, pointing.
A Japanese male of about 18 was clearly outlined in the fog next to the bath. He was naked, but held a towel in front of him with his right hand, in his left was a sake' cup.
"Aaaa, so," said Matsushita with a grin "He's saying he's a hidarikiki."
Tea knew the common expression. It meant to drink with the left hand, to be a strong drinker, an admirable quality.
The ghost was stepping into the water. The two women were waiting, holding the sake containers. They bowed from the waist in welcome.
Outside, beyond the window, a huge wave rolled in, striking the rocks and sending spray high into the air. Sea birds were flying by.
The point man, now standing in the bath, was bowing to the ladies.
Then he acknowledged the presence of Matsushita and Tea with a bow in their direction. His face was indistinct. He was thick fog upon thin fog.
Other forms began to emerge within the steam, thickening slowly as each ghost "bore down", as Tea came to call the concentration of consciousness required for transdimensional travel.
"They ride in best in this steam," Matsushita was saying, "and upon scents, their favorites being sake' and the female sex scent; and stormy weather seems best, they call it 'static liquid" and say they can 'adhere' to it better."
Atsuko began waking slowly back toward Tea and Mastushita, her furred mound was like a ship's bow in the water, her torso a ship's figurehead. She was smiling at Tea. She was returning for more sake'.
Behind her, Tazuko was going from ghost to ghost to ghost in the slow motion dictated by the depth of the water, pouring the rice wine into cups held out by the ghosts, the sake' falling through the concentrated nothingness into the water.
Atsuko took Tea's and Matsushita's cups from them and walked to where the waiting trays had been placed. Tea was surprised to see that fresh sake' and fresh cups had been brought in at some point. When she brought them the cups, Tea saw they were different in that while the first had been simply milk white, the new cups were milk white with a red dot on the inner bottom. The water-clear hot sake' enlarged the red dot when poured in.
The red dot, Atsuko told Tea as she poured, represented the red sun on the flag of Japan. This second batch of sake', she said, was brewed in Hiroshima, reminding Tea again that, amid this fanciful beauty and ceremony, revenge was the nature of the dance they were dancing, and that he, Tea, was up to his neck in the hot water of dangerous knowledge.
Atsuko poured for Matsushita, and then the men took turns giving her their cups for her to drink from; she'd long since put her own cup down.
After visiting with them for a few minutes she took four fresh containers of sake' and plowed back toward the ghosts.
Tea and Matsusita were both drunk by this time. The hot water and hot wine had cooled for a time the static between them.
On the other side of the bath so much sake' had been poured into the water that its sweet scent was hanging on the droplets of mist. There was a separateness between the living men and the dead men, as if two separate groups of inn guests were bathing at the same time. The chance looks exchanged were friendly, but except for polite nods there was no attempt to talk across the water. The social distance was needed, Tea understood, to keep the ghosts from being "awakened" by the living.
The women were on one level a bridge between the two worlds, but on another they were like waitresses in a restaurant serving drinks to unrelated customers.
Slowly, quietly during this activity, the some 20 men from the night before, came in and entered the bath, to be greeted with nods and bows from the dead soldiers.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the USA, unaware it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 84th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 7:08 PM
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