Monday, September 22, 2008


I met Dosty in Kino. Time was, I was still hanging out with Murakami then. I mean these transplanted Japs are nuts. One thinks he is the new-cool. The other assumes he’s the voice of literature. Let me attempt an explanation.

So Dosty at Kino. He’s this typical Jap, balding and crumpled-shirt type with a Siberia backpack. He has the gulag unshaven look down to a pat. He look constipated and as expected unhappy. He was hanging out with Blake and I knew Blake. As I noticed that he has set up camp on the perimeter of all that is Blakean, I decided to get some cheap laughs with that other Jap, the self proclaimed new-cool. But before that, I noticed that Jap Dosty was a engaging a she-student-type-typically-bespectacled. As in all Dosty talk, buffoonery unintentional:
“This IS literature.”
Jap Dosty appealed passionately to she-specs and all that would listen.
“This IS literature.”
Jap Dosty, wild eyed unshaven shaman from the land of the setting sun.
“This IS literature.”
Jap Dosty, I think he’s going to burst a valve if he doesn’t come to a point. Jap Dosty must’ve heard me and implored the she-specs,
“You must EXPERIENCE literature.”
Jap Dosty, what’s your point?
‘This IS literature.”
Hey, sashimi Dosty, Enough already!
Of course by now, Jap Dosty has the full attention of the she-engineered-bespectacled B. Arts(honk!)
“Have YOU read the Notes From Underground?”
Man I tell you this Jap Dosty, this man has all the hooks! Of course she-specs have not read the Everest of literature.
Now the clincher we all been waiting for:

(a…what?) (…gack! * * *) (huh?)

For all the trouble. All Jap Dosty want was a cheap lay. And he had to invoke the Everest of literature to spike his cheap shot. Moral of story? Japanese should not read Dosty. Dosty don’t eat sashimi. Therefore Japs who read Dosty should eat shit and die.

The problem with guys today? They have forgotten how to woo women. So they end up with unnecessary books and way too much introspection against the injustice of society. So they take on the sufferings of the world and wallow in their spite. So they get inflicted with penile erectile dysfunction. Then their he-stock get crystallized. So they start thinking they are the messiah that she-folks of the world has been waiting for. Dream on.

The other Jap. Murakami. The new cool. All he wants is a blow job and a whiskey. Can be in any order. He said so. Many times. In most of all his books. Now you know why Japs will cross the sea of Nippon and traverse the land of Genghis Khan just to transplant themselves in that shit backyard of sub-prime mortgage disaster. All for a blowjob. Now THAT is literature!

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