Tuesday, 29 December 2020

Big ain't always better


Luther leaned over to the Nakajima backseat and grabbed an enormous assault rifle from under the blanket. 
     “This here is something precious I meant to show you before,” he said. “My Kaiten T50 Devastator. Pretty little thing, don’t you think? Gas cooled with single and rapid fire functions. Got a pump action armour piercing option, too. That’s the silver tube underneath with the fins given to me personally by the Colonel from his collection when times were sweeter between us. The customised zebra skin on the grip and the stock was my idea.”
     “I figured that.” Rei patted her handbag. “Anyway, I’ll keep with my .22 IJN Midnight Special.”
     "That little old pocket revolver? Hell, that’s no more than a goddamn toy.”
     “Big ain’t always better, honey. So how come you know there’s someone over there?”
     Luther clipped in a magazine underneath the Kaiten then slung it over his shoulder. “Tents don’t put themselves up, Rei.”


Horace Zetler put down his glass of schnapps. “Herr Dix, I’m sorry to tell you this but I hear that awful fellow Jack Fielding has been at it again.” 
     “Really?” Dix sat up in his chair. “You mean with my Skat Players?”
     “Yes, I’m afraid so. In his first book, Zen City, Iso he re-imagined your painting as a group of four macabre mah-jong players, one of whom was a Chinese gangster called Benny and the lover of Madam Sin. He called them the Four Noble Truths.”
     “Four Noble Truths?”
     “I believe it’s a Buddhist thing.”
     “Oh. And what has he done this time?”
     Zetler leant across the table and whispered, “Fielding has re-invented the reinvention. Yes he has nearly finished writing another book called Man in a Zen Ambulance in which the four men have morphed into assassins – with a fascination for movie production trivia!”
    “But it gets worse, Herr Dix. I hear he’s now working on a short story in which the Four Noble Truths return...as the mah-jong players again!”
     “First he took liberties with Paul Klee’s Death and fire – putting it on cheap Asian neckties – now Fielding has the effrontery to continue poking away at my densest and most poignant work. Next thing you know they’ll be using me to sell lipstick. It is too much, Zetler!”
     The two men lapsed into silence. The sound of a billiard ball being struck.
     Then Dix stood up, grabbed his hat and umbrella.
     “Where on earth are you going at this hour, Herr Dix?”
     “Mein Gott, I’m going to find Fielding and punch that damned fellow’s lights out!” 



Sunday, 30 December 2018

Zen musings

The morning glory blooms but an hour
And yet it differs not at heart
From the giant pine that lives for a thousand years.'
Matsunaga Teitiku

'Veil upon veil will lift, but there must be
Veil upon veil behind.'
Sir Edwin Arnold