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The story (1 of 3)
1 of 3
A child is sitting minding his own business. A good person comes along and gives the child the tastiest ice cream in the world. The child licks once, twice… oh, so delicious, feeling every taste, … It`s the best ice cream in the universe.
Something happens, the ice cream is taken away just before the third lick. The child frowns. The child`s mouth opens. The child cries the loudest cry and deepest cry ever. The child`s tears are flowing faster and soon there`s nothing but a river of sadness. Even the best swimmer will not try, lest he downs in sorrow too.
I`m that child; only the river of tears is in my heart. Why? Why do they take the ice cream way. I loved that ice cream!
This reminds of a story that`s longer than I`ll tell. A man was wrongfully arrested during the war, believed to be a spy. After years of war, after years of torture, the man was left alone to die in a rotten jail.
So frail, he sat motionless, in the same position, second after second, minute after minute, year after year. His body was almost dead, yet his mind could experience every moment of this cruel existence.
Man, it would really suck to get stuck with the grave by the
trash pile. Meh, I don’t really like the picture itself, but
oh well. I fiddled with it way too much when I should have
just remembered my polarizing filter. My GIMP privileges
need to be taken away.
this graveyard would have been the most peaceful place I’ve
been in Japan, if you took away the trash pile, the business
suits using it as a shortcut to work, and the stupid American
tourist with a camera (that’s me!). So where do I find this
secluded bastion of rest and harmony, expansive enough that I
needed my compass to get out? Um, in Tokyo, obviously.
I have begun to form what will be known as the McKim
Theory of Japan and Ironic Relativity. I’ll be famous.
Basically, everything in Japan is in the one place where you
would least expect it. Most of the shrines are surrounded by
kind of dumpy, falling apart houses. Cell phones are in
convenience stores. Beer vending machines are a block away
from a children’s park. The most peaceful places are in the
most hectic city. And I’m not even going to go into driving.
Let’s just say that I definitely don’t want to be behind the
wheel until cars and bikes stop popping up in unexpected
places. Not a pleasant surprise.
Now I just need to figure out the least likely place for
there to be a leprechaun handing out 10,000 yen notes, and
I’ll be set for life. I would never make up a theory
that didn’t have a practical application. Tune in next week
for the McKim Theory of– … oh, ahem. I think I may
have said too much.
Student of the College of William and Mary
In Voluntary Exile in Tokorozawa, Japan