Soldier Ghost, Part 7
The $556 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Nine Up
Shark America One Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 186
Virgil Kret'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, Soldier Ghost (7)
Today's code is "70th Day, Last Year".
Come, let us talk as we walk down this old man's beach, of laughter and of tears, of childhood fears, things now out of reach; let us talk of snow and ice upon the deck; let us talk of foreign creatures swimming around the wreck...foreign creatures...foreign creatures...foreign creatures swimming around the wreck.
'“To be or not to be?” In every direction there were slings and arrows.'
That was how the most recent installment of Soldier Ghost ended Monday, March 3; then I.C. News was knocked of the Internet by government pigs and citizen volunteers; slings and arrows of outrageous psycho-fascism.
I am not the power behind God's Space War against the United States, I am just the raggedy assed newsman God has honored to report the story God some five decades ago suggested I call, "The Obituary of the World"; so even though I might be censored by America from telling you the story, the story goes on.
The timing codes and calculations which open each day's report have progressed at their usual pace, the Up and Down pistons we call Shark America and Jews Jaws have continued to pump; and the daily fine of one billion dollars to be extracted from America most painfully by God continued to add up--but a ten billion dollar fine was added in response to America's attack on the computer of God's One True Telepath.
There was some loss in information in that we could not run the daily seven-day earthquake count, which we are finding to be a useful tool in anticipating earthquakes; and we have not been following the news, but we know George W. Bush has continued to lead the American people by the nose to calamities and disasters the most horrible of nightmares cannot describe.
As for me, I have taken the government-imposed vacation as a time for exercise by walking along beautiful country roads in the foothills of the Sierra mountains in preparation for Sweet Victory over psycho-fascist America by mid-July, but that's another story.
Let's return then to our story of Soldier Ghost, the first story on a winding trail of stories that lead us to The Secret Story, the story of how God's Space Sailors rescued the Japanese from "an Impossible Pocket" and deposited them on the islands now known as Japan.
This story is the same as the Japanese' own myth of their creation which says the Sun Goddess Amaterasu established them on Japan, but told from the perspective of God's Space Sailors, who rescued them from their wanderings in northern Africa, and transported them aboard the great space vessel, then known as Heaven's Terrace, now known as Peacemaker.
If you could see all the myths and legends of humankind hung before you as if woven into a tapestry, you would see they are all true; and their trueness can be understood when the knowledge comes that God's Space Sailors have been working to save this Earth for 57 thousand years.
It is intellectually convenient and satisfying for me to single out the Japanese myth because it is almost totally separate from the Jewish myth, and does not carry with it the Tornado of War which comes out of that myth in its Jewish, Christian and Muslim forms.
("...almost totally," but that, too, is another story.)
While those three foolish faiths, believing to the death of others in their own distorted understanding of God, slit each other's throats and murder each other's babies, you and I, Dear Reader, will go to the back side of this Earth and tell the same mythological story that evolved in the shade of lush trees as evolved in the harsh heat of the Middle East.
We take it slow...we take it slow...we have frozen minds to thaw, we have a long way to go.
Let me compare a part of the Jewish myth with a part of the Japanese myth; and I think you will see what I mean.
Within the Jewish myth the sun stopped in the sky for three days, God of course within their own egocentric mythology, having stopped the sun in the sky to aid the Israelites in battle.
Within the Japanese myth the Sun Goddess hid in a cave for three days, so it was dark for three days.
Light for three days in the Middle East, dark for three days in the Far East? Coincidence? I think not.
So, let us talk as we walk along this old man's beach...
Now back to the story of Soldier Ghost. You may recall Tea had just returned to Tokyo from covering combat in Vietnam, and was feeling the lure of war calling him back, and with all the arguments a sane man might make against putting his hand into the buzz saw of war again, it was his Sweetheart's ass that tipped the scales of his internal dilemma.
Remember? "Tea asked himself in a moment of clarity, an amber whiskey, room temperature, no ice, no mix, in his hand, 'What’s better for me, shrapnel or that ass?'"
Soldier Ghost, Part 7
“Heal thyself” Tea’s spirit said to itself, knowing everyone who enters war comes out wounded, every ticket gets punched.
It was toward that healing that Tea took a couple weeks off and traveled by train to the far coast of Japan, where he received an unexpected and unusual visit from Praying Mantis, the first since his return from Vietnam.
Tea was staying at an isolated coastal inn a half a day or so by local train north of Ama-No-Hashidate, the city called "The Bridge to Heave", where the Sun Goddess Amaterasu was said to have placed the Japanese some 660 years before Jesus Christ was born.
Soon after settling in he had a sudden sensation Praying Mantis was in the room with him, then he heard just one telepathized sentence.
“This is where I was born into the life which I gave in the Pacific War.”
The next day, still at the same inn, Tea felt the heavy drowsiness which often preceded what many then called “astral travel.”
A warm sun was shining into his room. He lay down, putting his head on the small, straw-filled pillow provided by the inn. It being a Japanese room, there was no bed and little furniture.
He lay directly on the tatami floor, his drowsiness being too insistent for him to take the futon and bedding from their closet. He immediately went into the floating half-sleep which turned his dream mechanism into a telephone-television hookup between the zones of spirit and flesh.
A samurai appeared.
He was dressed in full armor made of lacquered thin bamboo strips, deep red in color. He wore a helmet of gold and iron inset with stylized deer antlers, useful against sword attacks to his head. Guarding his face was an iron mask replete with a white horse hair mustache.
Though masked, the samurai was clearly not Praying Mantis.
The billowed trousers, called hakama, and the quilted fencers’ blouse which showed through where the armor allowed, were like underparts of a crustacean, and seemed to be purple. The trousers seemed and made of silk and the blouse cotton.
Both seemed to bear a snowflake crest, the same crest appearing on the samurai’s breastplate.
In his right hand the samurai held a baton tipped with bunched white paper strips.
Later Tea was to find one depicted in a book and learn it was called a saihai, and was a mark of command used for signaling on the battlefield.
The paper strips, the book said, numbered ninety-eight, representing “the ninety-eight thousand war gods”. It had gone out of fashion by the Sixteenth Century.
The apparition spoke.
“There are many death-shocked dead hanging onto you. Too many. They will drag your spirit down..."
Tea recoiled at this and he began to unwillingly pull back from the sleep state, unable to hold the moment. The samurai called after him, his voice growing fainter with each second.
"Japan is too dear for them. Take them to where they can live cheaply."
Tea awoke, the voice still fading away. The full moon was just up and shining. Speckles of the dream hung around him, like dust in motion. He lay on his back, blinking at the unpainted polished pine ceiling. Moonlight came through the translucent paper and wood doors which opened onto the balcony.
Tea sat up, sleep-drugged and uncomfortable from having slept in his clothing. He poured some now-cold green tea. He lit a Hope cigarette. He sat in the semi-dark, smoking and sipping, going over the dream.
The dream’s message made sense to him and he began to consider this new idea: How might one take dead soldiers home?
There was a tap on the door, and from the other side, as she slid it slightly open, the maid, in a tinkling voice crowned with highly polite verb endings, announced to him supper would be along shortly, and asked if he would like to bathe first.
What struck Tea most profoundly in his life was the intermeshing of things, the fitting together of events, as if some secret goddess-poetess were weaving a story from the times and miss-times of those wandering balls of fire called human beings.
A series of coincidences would send him tracking its trail like a searcher seeking treasure stepping out strides to the X marking the mystery spot.
This strange visit by this previously unmet spirit galvanized for Tea the scope, or perhaps the potential of his experience with Praying Mantis.
Although Tea could not see the great mesh yet, he began to hypothesize that it was there. The mesh had suddenly just spanned a thousand years. Suddenly Tea was talking across Time. Suddenly Praying Mantis was more than one, a link of many links. Suddenly things had changed and would never be the same again.
Few would have called Tea a religious man in the churchgoing sense. To Tea, God and he would have a secret handshake. Deep down in the toy box of his soul he seemed to remember God as being six and he being five.
Once, on a Vietnam battlefield when the Americans were zeroed in and fire from incoming machine guns looked like molten metal from a hose and the mortar rounds were splatting around him like bad dreams within a nightmare and a Marine was screaming incessantly in his pain and another was yelling, “Shut that motherfucker up! Shut that motherfucker up!”, the secret maidenhead of terror all people seem to possess was ruptured in Tea, and death started whispering nasty things in his ear, Tea asked himself if he should pray now that he thought it would all soon be over, but no, he thought, God would think him chickenshit if he did.
Right now, though, these days, Tea began to think things were getting important enough to draw a glance or two from God.
That was Tea.
Tea more or less sniffed things out as he went along. He felt that if he could talk to ghosts it was natural for him to talk to ghosts. There was no terror in it for him, no spooky dooky.
Knowing that Soldier Ghost was with him was like finding a baby in a bundle on his doorstep. There was some inconvenience to it. Some mystery. Some love. Above all, to Tea, it was a problem to be solved.
With these thought in mind, Tea returned to Tokyo.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the USA, unaware it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 70th day of its last year.
Jews Jaws Nine Up
Shark America One Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 186
Virgil Kret'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, Soldier Ghost (7)
Today's code is "70th Day, Last Year".
Come, let us talk as we walk down this old man's beach, of laughter and of tears, of childhood fears, things now out of reach; let us talk of snow and ice upon the deck; let us talk of foreign creatures swimming around the wreck...foreign creatures...foreign creatures...foreign creatures swimming around the wreck.
'“To be or not to be?” In every direction there were slings and arrows.'
That was how the most recent installment of Soldier Ghost ended Monday, March 3; then I.C. News was knocked of the Internet by government pigs and citizen volunteers; slings and arrows of outrageous psycho-fascism.
I am not the power behind God's Space War against the United States, I am just the raggedy assed newsman God has honored to report the story God some five decades ago suggested I call, "The Obituary of the World"; so even though I might be censored by America from telling you the story, the story goes on.
The timing codes and calculations which open each day's report have progressed at their usual pace, the Up and Down pistons we call Shark America and Jews Jaws have continued to pump; and the daily fine of one billion dollars to be extracted from America most painfully by God continued to add up--but a ten billion dollar fine was added in response to America's attack on the computer of God's One True Telepath.
There was some loss in information in that we could not run the daily seven-day earthquake count, which we are finding to be a useful tool in anticipating earthquakes; and we have not been following the news, but we know George W. Bush has continued to lead the American people by the nose to calamities and disasters the most horrible of nightmares cannot describe.
As for me, I have taken the government-imposed vacation as a time for exercise by walking along beautiful country roads in the foothills of the Sierra mountains in preparation for Sweet Victory over psycho-fascist America by mid-July, but that's another story.
Let's return then to our story of Soldier Ghost, the first story on a winding trail of stories that lead us to The Secret Story, the story of how God's Space Sailors rescued the Japanese from "an Impossible Pocket" and deposited them on the islands now known as Japan.
This story is the same as the Japanese' own myth of their creation which says the Sun Goddess Amaterasu established them on Japan, but told from the perspective of God's Space Sailors, who rescued them from their wanderings in northern Africa, and transported them aboard the great space vessel, then known as Heaven's Terrace, now known as Peacemaker.
If you could see all the myths and legends of humankind hung before you as if woven into a tapestry, you would see they are all true; and their trueness can be understood when the knowledge comes that God's Space Sailors have been working to save this Earth for 57 thousand years.
It is intellectually convenient and satisfying for me to single out the Japanese myth because it is almost totally separate from the Jewish myth, and does not carry with it the Tornado of War which comes out of that myth in its Jewish, Christian and Muslim forms.
("...almost totally," but that, too, is another story.)
While those three foolish faiths, believing to the death of others in their own distorted understanding of God, slit each other's throats and murder each other's babies, you and I, Dear Reader, will go to the back side of this Earth and tell the same mythological story that evolved in the shade of lush trees as evolved in the harsh heat of the Middle East.
We take it slow...we take it slow...we have frozen minds to thaw, we have a long way to go.
Let me compare a part of the Jewish myth with a part of the Japanese myth; and I think you will see what I mean.
Within the Jewish myth the sun stopped in the sky for three days, God of course within their own egocentric mythology, having stopped the sun in the sky to aid the Israelites in battle.
Within the Japanese myth the Sun Goddess hid in a cave for three days, so it was dark for three days.
Light for three days in the Middle East, dark for three days in the Far East? Coincidence? I think not.
So, let us talk as we walk along this old man's beach...
Now back to the story of Soldier Ghost. You may recall Tea had just returned to Tokyo from covering combat in Vietnam, and was feeling the lure of war calling him back, and with all the arguments a sane man might make against putting his hand into the buzz saw of war again, it was his Sweetheart's ass that tipped the scales of his internal dilemma.
Remember? "Tea asked himself in a moment of clarity, an amber whiskey, room temperature, no ice, no mix, in his hand, 'What’s better for me, shrapnel or that ass?'"
Soldier Ghost, Part 7
“Heal thyself” Tea’s spirit said to itself, knowing everyone who enters war comes out wounded, every ticket gets punched.
It was toward that healing that Tea took a couple weeks off and traveled by train to the far coast of Japan, where he received an unexpected and unusual visit from Praying Mantis, the first since his return from Vietnam.
Tea was staying at an isolated coastal inn a half a day or so by local train north of Ama-No-Hashidate, the city called "The Bridge to Heave", where the Sun Goddess Amaterasu was said to have placed the Japanese some 660 years before Jesus Christ was born.
Soon after settling in he had a sudden sensation Praying Mantis was in the room with him, then he heard just one telepathized sentence.
“This is where I was born into the life which I gave in the Pacific War.”
The next day, still at the same inn, Tea felt the heavy drowsiness which often preceded what many then called “astral travel.”
A warm sun was shining into his room. He lay down, putting his head on the small, straw-filled pillow provided by the inn. It being a Japanese room, there was no bed and little furniture.
He lay directly on the tatami floor, his drowsiness being too insistent for him to take the futon and bedding from their closet. He immediately went into the floating half-sleep which turned his dream mechanism into a telephone-television hookup between the zones of spirit and flesh.
A samurai appeared.
He was dressed in full armor made of lacquered thin bamboo strips, deep red in color. He wore a helmet of gold and iron inset with stylized deer antlers, useful against sword attacks to his head. Guarding his face was an iron mask replete with a white horse hair mustache.
Though masked, the samurai was clearly not Praying Mantis.
The billowed trousers, called hakama, and the quilted fencers’ blouse which showed through where the armor allowed, were like underparts of a crustacean, and seemed to be purple. The trousers seemed and made of silk and the blouse cotton.
Both seemed to bear a snowflake crest, the same crest appearing on the samurai’s breastplate.
In his right hand the samurai held a baton tipped with bunched white paper strips.
Later Tea was to find one depicted in a book and learn it was called a saihai, and was a mark of command used for signaling on the battlefield.
The paper strips, the book said, numbered ninety-eight, representing “the ninety-eight thousand war gods”. It had gone out of fashion by the Sixteenth Century.
The apparition spoke.
“There are many death-shocked dead hanging onto you. Too many. They will drag your spirit down..."
Tea recoiled at this and he began to unwillingly pull back from the sleep state, unable to hold the moment. The samurai called after him, his voice growing fainter with each second.
"Japan is too dear for them. Take them to where they can live cheaply."
Tea awoke, the voice still fading away. The full moon was just up and shining. Speckles of the dream hung around him, like dust in motion. He lay on his back, blinking at the unpainted polished pine ceiling. Moonlight came through the translucent paper and wood doors which opened onto the balcony.
Tea sat up, sleep-drugged and uncomfortable from having slept in his clothing. He poured some now-cold green tea. He lit a Hope cigarette. He sat in the semi-dark, smoking and sipping, going over the dream.
The dream’s message made sense to him and he began to consider this new idea: How might one take dead soldiers home?
There was a tap on the door, and from the other side, as she slid it slightly open, the maid, in a tinkling voice crowned with highly polite verb endings, announced to him supper would be along shortly, and asked if he would like to bathe first.
What struck Tea most profoundly in his life was the intermeshing of things, the fitting together of events, as if some secret goddess-poetess were weaving a story from the times and miss-times of those wandering balls of fire called human beings.
A series of coincidences would send him tracking its trail like a searcher seeking treasure stepping out strides to the X marking the mystery spot.
This strange visit by this previously unmet spirit galvanized for Tea the scope, or perhaps the potential of his experience with Praying Mantis.
Although Tea could not see the great mesh yet, he began to hypothesize that it was there. The mesh had suddenly just spanned a thousand years. Suddenly Tea was talking across Time. Suddenly Praying Mantis was more than one, a link of many links. Suddenly things had changed and would never be the same again.
Few would have called Tea a religious man in the churchgoing sense. To Tea, God and he would have a secret handshake. Deep down in the toy box of his soul he seemed to remember God as being six and he being five.
Once, on a Vietnam battlefield when the Americans were zeroed in and fire from incoming machine guns looked like molten metal from a hose and the mortar rounds were splatting around him like bad dreams within a nightmare and a Marine was screaming incessantly in his pain and another was yelling, “Shut that motherfucker up! Shut that motherfucker up!”, the secret maidenhead of terror all people seem to possess was ruptured in Tea, and death started whispering nasty things in his ear, Tea asked himself if he should pray now that he thought it would all soon be over, but no, he thought, God would think him chickenshit if he did.
Right now, though, these days, Tea began to think things were getting important enough to draw a glance or two from God.
That was Tea.
Tea more or less sniffed things out as he went along. He felt that if he could talk to ghosts it was natural for him to talk to ghosts. There was no terror in it for him, no spooky dooky.
Knowing that Soldier Ghost was with him was like finding a baby in a bundle on his doorstep. There was some inconvenience to it. Some mystery. Some love. Above all, to Tea, it was a problem to be solved.
With these thought in mind, Tea returned to Tokyo.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the USA, unaware it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 70th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 6:19 PM
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