Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Looking Back

Captain Gustav stared at the tides ... face looking as dead as death itself ... thinking about how it ended this way ... re-living the events to mark the mistakes with his sharp blade ... givin' it a blow with the revolver attached to his belt ... sipping the Whiskey ... feeling down and strong ... he watched the match go on fire after a seemingly useless attack at the match box ... giving life to his cigar just to watch it die ... his mind wandered everywhere ... remembering the cold storms and the many times he danced with the angel of death while holding stiff to the wheel ... taunting and screaming at the mighty Poseidon with tears merged with the burning storm rain ... inhaling the soul of his cigar while watching the climax at its tip ... reminding him of the god defeating moment while he was one with his ship ... one with his crew ... predicting every motion of the raging sea ... seeing from the eyes of the god of the sea ... exhaling the baptized soul of his cigar while watching the still sea from his motion-less and quiet vessel ... but feeling the storm stronger than ever .... the frightened and shivering smoke moving away from him crying about the storm they saw ... understanding very well how he would like to torture the whole cigar and lett its pure soul experience the most frightening of all storms ... his storm inside ... the one not played by Poseidon ... the one that caused the god to blow the wind of death on the sea ... how he felt the Whiskey running away when vaporized by the heat of this storm ... the illumination of another inhale ending moment calming everything inside him for a moment ... whispering to him how fortunate his lost crew were to not have been by his side in this storm ... Captain Gustav gazed at his revolver ... this time lying innocent ... looking like a savior ... how it might have freed many souls from their inner storms ... the storms with no preparation signs ... his left hand freed the cigar ... threw it in the dead sea ... with a hidden hope that its burning soul might awaken the life sucking waves of the honest storms ... something ... anything to calm the inner chaos ... this .. he had to bare ... this ... had to go away .... this ... should inject more will into his old and tired body ... this ... needed to go away .... dark cold killing storm is in the horizon ... Poseidon shall rise again ... with a confident face and a brittle body ready for handing over the throne ... alas ... no god has fought the inner war!

The End of the Line

What would have happened next if most of the seven Samurai had not died after trying to defend the village? How would they have felt after the success? Would they have regret the unpaid effort? Would they have extracted meaning from the whole scenario? Would Kyuzo have continued his swordsmanship practices like it was the first time he had the blade in his hands? Would Kikuchiyo have maintained his built up attitude? Would they have stood for the village again? Would they have witnessed their own descent? Would the hunger have fed with greed?

Is death the only option for eternal success? ... maybe yes... maybe not ... probably not for the people raised with Bushido which is said to be the "Way of Dying" or living as though one was already dead!

Sunday, July 24, 2011


I am not usually very fond of TV and have praised myself often for keeping away from it, even totally without it while living in the Country of the TV. Even the recent surge of TV series seasons on DVD had not caught me. Getting to know Neil Postman and his great books had further strengthened this idea.

However, just very recently, I checked out the first episode of Californication which I accidentally borrowed from yzt and I have to admit that I am blown away by it. Very close the the end of the second season and I have really liked it so far. Great actors, nice pace, wonderful music, good balance and containing good food for the thought below the seemingly hedonistic layers, oh, and nice to see the details of LA one more time. Quite cool.