Firstly I'd like to preface this post by sharing my latest discovery with you. You might recall me mentioning a Hari Krishnoligist (either Hari Krishna or Scientologist) randomly giving me this book which proverbially set a swarm of bees on my bonnet. After the minimal amount of searching on the interwebs, I've discovered its not a cult, people. It's a legit Swami's account of the ancient texts of the Gita. So, not Scientologists. Right. Not that I'm disappointed or anything. A scientologist approached me once, but those fuckers are schneeeaky. You first have to pay R150 to watch an informational documentary/ movie, before they tell you anything interesting.

Well,

1. Firstly, I rarely if ever pay to watch a movie i.e information session i.e advertorial i.e opportunity for a captive audience to be brainwashed Thetan-style.
2. One hundred and fifty rands is more than  sufficient to get your hands on a Dancing Bear and you can have your own private conversation with God. Seriously, I met a nice guy called Jesus under a tree at a trance party a few weeks back. Nice dude, bad teeth.

It's hard enough as it is... for me to function, assimilate and keep track of every bit of semi-useful piece of information. Watch the news. Follow celebrity gossip. Keep track of which episode of Sons of Anarchy we last stopped at. Keep a low profile, stop speaking Evasive Mumble, remember to feed Funky (seriously Funky, we can all stand to gain some appreciation for those less fortunate and skip a meal for a day).

NAG. NAG. NAG.

You get so lost sometimes, in the everyday eyes-closed routine that you forget about your more decadent dreams. No, not porn- but I'm sure this post will circumnavigate back to that topic. TRAVELLING. The word alone elicits sheer panic and dread with Moth, which I totally don't understand (but secretly enjoy). So while I've been feeling like a Gypsy with cage-rot for the past few weeks (can you blame me? I've got the census people hot on my ass.) I stumbled upon an article about how the Japanese government is dishing out 10 000 round trip tickets (albeit radioactive) to bloggers willing to prostitute themselves for a free trip by writing about their experiences in the Nation of the Rising Sun. This all with the intention of boosting tourism.

And, so....Robert is your mother's brother and also the president of Zimbabwe...

ü   Blogger

ü   Forms part of a greater diabolical plan to convince Moth to travel.

Seeing as it's going to take a force majeure to generate any sort of continental drift in him, what better country than Japan. Earthquakes, tsunamis, near Chernobyl-like infamy. Ladies and gentlemen....looks like we have our contender. But if you think my fiendish plan to get his ass a-moving hinges on my obscure, slightly offensive ramblings- then we got problems.

So listen my friends, spare a moment while I undertake this exercise in futility.



Rice, great if you want to eat a
million of something.



I genuinely get excited when I check the stats and see which countries are reading my blog and Japan was one of the very first. Since then Japan still has only ever remained a one-hit wonder for me. (This is clearly a one-sided relationship. You don't like my writing...well I don't like rice- so there!) The first word that popped into my mind when I saw the hit was "Futanari"- Japanese anime porn! My thought process simultaneously went to, "How far removed is futanari from my life- there's possibly never going to be a scenario where I post about this".

Mmmm, and yet here we stand...

Futanari is something so essentially Japanese and something so essentially twisted. Grotesque and gaudy but so damn alluring and interesting you just can't look away. That's Japan, anything and everything almost goes- or at least is given the right to exist (ahem...re-education camps much...Chairman Mao?). This is partly balanced by the ultra-conservative and traditional echelons of elderly folk.

But its the dirty trenches and subcultures that build the foundation of every teahouse worth its poon in geisha's. So here's a couple of reasons why I, and so by natural extension you (Moth, that includes you too) consider adding Japan to your bucket list.

With the worlds longest life expectancy and the highest suicide rate for under 30's Japan also boasts the world's lowest homicide rate. So, we've clearly established that they might not like killing each other, but sure have a penchant for suicide.

ü   Kamikaze mentality resonates well. I agree with suicide.... for other people.

Japan is ranked top five importer and exporter in the world. That explains where all those sweets shaped like lil' hamburgers and hotdogs come from. C'maaaaan, really? Is food posing as another food really necessary. Weird and wonderful, Japan has it all.

Necessity has little value for me....incognito candy however- that ranks quite high on my hierarchy of needs.

ü   High fructose corn syrup....I need you in my life!

In such a homogeneous society where everyone looks the same, speaks the same language and genetically inherits ancient, social fears, Japan boasts the fertile breading ground for any and every subculture, preference and school of thought out there. The language in particular fascinates me, they have a specific word for everything....like bukaki- I encourage you to look up this word independently, when you have a moment. Some jewels are better discovered alone. Japan also signed a treaty that renounces it's right to wage war...like, ever. I like that.

ü   No war.
ü   Additional profanities to learn.

Its looking pretty good so far. Increased tourism numbers are meant to allay the fears of the local population regarding the radiatioactive fall-out. Because hey, it's totally okay to use foreigners as human capital to sway Japanese opinion...apparently. This sounds more like payback for a not-so-forgotten mushroom cloud that still looms in the recesses of public perception. Ironically, I mentioned this to Moth..his response,

"If you can guarantee I get bitten by a radioactive something or other, and through genetic mutation gain super powers...my ass is on the first plane to Tokyo."

I live in quiet desperation.

ü   Possibility of super powers......or grotesque mutation. Mmm, I'm guessing we'll take our chances.

The Japanese are also known to be quite critical of themselves, their culture and generally everything. From musical toilets that drowns out the noise of your ass trumpet, to the fairer sex butchering their eyelids to appear more Western and forests specifically designated for suicide- there's always a proper way to do improper things. Almost everything is frowned upon, but everything goes. So, like a lil'one being lured by misrepresented sweets and the empty promises of super powers, I gladly add Japan onto my bucket list...along with Easter Island and Machu Pichu because everybody deserves the chance to munch hallucinogenic cacti at ridiculous altitudes....who are we to judge? After all, we're not Japanese. Now just to find a Harashuku outfit that fits Moth....mmm...

So I bid you a fond farewell...I can now run like a dirty heathen through the backwoods of Paarl, guilt free...looking for Wally with the devil's neighbour and start thinking of which tropical disease I can contract for Monday....

I am by no means paranoid, but fuck with my freedoms and we've got problems. Generally my M.O. is to have as minimal interaction with any government authority as possible, its just too much admin and frustration.

I've met the minimum requirements...I have a Real Makoya identity document and I made my chicken scatch on a ballot paper a couple of years back thinking I could swing the election in favour of the Green Party, but alas....the Green Party is a reckless lie I've been told to put my sober ass to sleep at night and doesn't exist in this great nation any longer. Boo! So, by my standards I would assume this would be sufficient and that's about where my dealings with this fair republic end.

I will not be counted. I refuse. For easy reference I've compiled the following list:

In no particular order (just like in Miss Universe except I'm not Trump and no one has had the decency to offer me any head).....

• Firstly and most importantly I am not a sheep.
• I reserve the right of admission into my home to any and everyone. (Space invaders beware- russling up a high powered rifle is really easier than you think).
• Maths was never an easy subject for me (it's like cricket- I just don't understand...yes, no matter how many times you try and explain- its still a blank), but its not me we're talking about...its those census bafoons that need to dig out their abbacuss and start figuring out how to average.
•  I am entitled to misdirect my rage in any direction I choose- next month I think I'll target shoelaces. Really? In this day and age with all our modern conveniences are they really neccessary or merely just a relic of a bygone era.
• Moth and myself have taken a blood oath never to procreate. The combination of our genetic make-up will unleash a force the likes the world has never seen before with unimaginable power, bad attitude and general distrust for any loose form of authority.
• I can do the job cheaper, in less time and with less inconvenience to myself. Observe. One. See how fast that was? Because theer's only one of me and that one will be sending the Census Authority a bill in the post. Ahem, I said cheap- not free.
• Also, I've never been fucked by an Australian, so that would also classify me as not a sheep.

I do not by any standards acknowledge the upcomming census, or their hoards of pathetically "official" looking mouth-breathers. Because where I come from, looking "official" is as easy as wearing a yellow reflective vest and asking you to borrow your pen...really! Who needs writing implements when tasked to ask people to complete official forms or function in an office environment. Nope. Not us...most parastatals and government departments work on a bastardised ethos of ubuntu which suits our mostly aliterate society quite comfortably. Their hybrid version which is usually interpreted as floating by on another person's effort, expended energy and stationary.

My liberties as a humanoid on this blue planet are totally being impeded by asking me to adhere to every administrative requirement that our goverment dictates. Today, I'm feeling particularly like a vigilante. This could be because I've lost my phone and am actively delaying the process of getting a new one- screw you network providers (muhahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa)!!!!! A sence of freedom is gained. And freedom, my lovelies is the best drug there is.

Its the simple freedoms from choosing your breakfast cereal, to answering a phonecall that seperates us from our shit-slinging counterparts.

So you know we got problems when the world comes to a point when reflective vest wearing psychopaths demand entry to your home to count you! Problems, people....we've got them. Besides, I reserve the right of admission to anyone...psychopath or not.

A few weeks ago this rancid, little six year old knocked on my door and demanded that I give R20 and sign his raffle, bear in mind he didn't even mention a prize or anything. I'm known to be easily persuaded by gimics and glitter...poor sales tactics on his part, that's what I say! I gave him a look of seething derision as I moved like a ninja to grab the jar of loose change and proceeded (with varying results) to pelt him with those heavy copper 5 cent coins. Glory. It was mine. Apparantly this didn't go down too well with the neighbours. But tell me what type of parent is negligent enough to let their young son solicit money from strangers in the neighbourhood? Trust me, there's probably quite a few people who would throw loose change at little boys for an entirely different reason.

Its about choice. Its your choice to count and be counted, to throw money at little boys, to use public transport, to vote, to love, to breathe, to drink 2% milk and injest MSG that gnaws away at your brain cells. It a choice...and its yours.

Moth, the strange and lovable man that he is draws quite a bit of his life philosphy from musicians...one in particular said the following:

"The death of one is a tragedy, the death of millions is just a statistic."- Marilyn Manson.

So for me, when human life boils down to cold hard numbers, I don't want to be included. It cheapens things for me and detracts from the value of human life. I am but one of seven billion people one this planet. I am one and I am here. So if you know what you are; and you know where you are, well then we half way there. Still, I have until the end of the month to go incognito, but they seem to have already infiltrated my neighbourhood. They have posters indicating which reflective vest wearing miscreant is coming to a theatre near you.

Try and find me biatches, its easier stripping brown off an asshole.