Boss Sashimi, Wooden Fish and Darkening Europe

As published at SubStack, 5/11/22:

[$15.64 selection of sashimi at Bụi Sushi in Vung Tau, 5/9/22]

Weatherbeaten, shopworn, thirsty and prolifically traumatized, I hauled by beer belly to Cafe Ca Dao this morning only to find its steel gate locked, thus myself barred from happiness, now and forever. So this is it! Nuclear bombs, electromagnetic pulse bursts or cyber attacks have shut down everything. Worse, you’re being gang raped by Joe, Jill and Hunter Biden, with Nancy Pelosi waiting her turn. She wears depleted uranium armored bra and a strapped-on dildo in the shape of Obama. Her lips are gothically pierced. On her spider veined left cheek is an ultra-cool tatt of a transsexual Lucifer. Where is Jesus?

It turned out I was at Ca Dao 15 minutes too early. It was only 6:15AM. Finally, after much teeth gnashing, hair pulling and chest beating on my part, the lady let me in. All was still afloat. I hadn’t exhausted my allotment of pain free moments and repose.

So where are we?

Nearly all the brighter, better educated Vietnamese I’ve met here believe Ukraine is winning the war, Putin is a delusional lunatic and the US is shining brighter than ever as a beacon of freedom and democracy, for, after all, it’s leading the fight against Hitler reincarnated! Like other morons worldwide, smarter Vietnamese see their world according to lying Jews. Needless to say, they’re all Jewjabbed.

Die führer died in 1945. In full Nazi uniform, Putin popped out in 1952. It certainly adds up. Listen, if there’s no life on earth, where can souls be reborn? Like fireflies, we’ll flit through an endless darkness, without ever being seen, heard or touched properly, so in a way, it will be exactly like this life.

Feeling so homeless on earth, some even dream of relocating to places unspeakably inhospitable.

Poet Nguyen Quoc Chanh joined me at Cafe Ca Dao, then we had an excellent lunch at Bụi Sushi. Yes, I’ve been splurging a bit, for time is short. Three months from now, we won’t live in the same world. Moreover, having long conversations while eating and drinking is the ultimate pleasure for Vietnamese. That’s why they do it as much as possible.

[Dong Nai, 4/7/22]

I’ve spoken about how prevalent is “eat” in Vietnamese, how it’s paired with other words to describe numerous activities, from sex to stealing. As for the scarcity of food, there’s the legend of a Nghệ An scribe and his wooden fish. Wandering from village to village to offer his service, this impoverished ông đồ would only buy cooked rice at eateries. To make each meal more palatable, he would stare at a wooden fish as he ate. Even now, a slur against folks from Nghệ An, Ho Chi Minh’s home province, is that they’re wooden fish people.

My late father owned Kobe Sushi in Santa Clara, California. He gambled all his money away on NFL games. We were not close. Even as I struggled to make rent, he said I should learn how to play golf, to move up in the world. My handicap is minus infinity. There were times I visited the San Jose area without seeing my father. Whatever his failures, he never abandoned me and my little brother. My mother did.

Visiting my dying father in the hospital, I took one photo with him, then accidentally deleted it that same day. I’ve stored over 20,000 photos of strangers, plus dogs, cats, horses and fish, but not one of my father.

After Bụi Sushi, we went to VBF Bar, where we were joined by a woman about to leave for Prague, a terrible idea. Born in Vung Tau, she emigrated at age 14, so has Czech citizenship. Three years ago, she returned to Vietnam with a business plan which has amounted to nothing. Cheated by a local partner, she lost lots of money. Let’s call her Felice, after Kafka’s fiancé.

Again, we’re talking about where should one be to weather this coming catastrophe. Forty-years-old, Felice had a perm, wore round glasses and smiled constantly. Her amusement, though, often carried hints of mockery. When airing her opinions, Felice’s speech was rapid, exact and often fierce.

Familiar with my foreboding about the USA and Europe, i.e., the white world, or what’s left of it, Chanh thought I could persuade Felice to stay put. Introducing me, Chanh said I was the author of ten or eleven books in English, and that I had traveled all over, so had a broader perspective than most. Already, it felt like an interview, with me presenting myself to someone who wasn’t just skeptical, but severe. Over two hours or so, we talked, disastrously.

To Felice, Vietnam is visionless, corrupt, polluted and overpopulated, with traffic cops shaking you down and motorists cutting you off. Streets are so chaotic it’s a miracle there aren’t accidents left and right. In Vung Tau, trees are cut down to make room for ugly buildings. Vietnamese schools are mere indoctrination centers to inculcate mindless obedience. There is no free speech. Intellectuals are cowed, thus useless. Unsafe food breeds diseases.

Sweeping her arm, Felice asked me, “Where we are, is this Vietnam?”

“Of course, it’s Vietnam.”

She merely smiled back, with that hint of mockery. Of course, we weren’t in Vietnam, I had to read her mind, for all around us were tall trees shading wide, uncluttered sidewalks, and lawns surrounding handsome buildings built by the French. No winding alleys, loud restaurants or food carts were in sight. We were in the colonial part of town, Felice meant, and not the native quarters, but why settle for an imitation of Europe? Why not just return to magnificent Prague, which she was already familiar with?

Now, Prague’s historical center is as beautiful as it gets, though most of its residential areas, with their socialist tenements, are hideous. Further, Czechs are a handsome, pensive and gentle people, so there is every reason to admire them. Then you have Kundera, Holub and Kafka, though the last wrote in German. I wasn’t trying to persuade Felice to reject her adopted home, however, but merely to avoid being there, or anywhere in Europe, as we head into the second half of 2022.

To Felice, my dark take on what’s coming is absurd. First off, Ukraine will kick Russia’s ass. Europe doesn’t have a refugee problem, for these immigrants, whether from the Middle East, Africa, Ukraine or even Russia, will be integrated to help each European economy. There is no homeless problem, for those who sleep outside are alcoholics or drug addicts who prefer that lifestyle. Antifa misfits who break windows or ruin neighborhoods like Leipzig’s Connewitz are merely exercising their freedom of speech. Graffiti can be painted over or scrubbed. It’s even OK when they physically attack anti-immigration Pegida, for free people must be free to argue. 

As for my tales of food production in the West being destroyed, Felice merely smirked. What was I going to rant about next, Jews injecting poison into minds and veins?! Jewjabbed twice, Felice was perfectly fine, she stated.

Send this raving idiot back to Africa, Felice probably thought as we parted. Into the dark, she sped.

[Connewitz in Leipzig, Germany, 10/14/15]