No Plan Japan 41 : Round Table Anarchy

Returning to Taipei was strange for me, like coming to a land your meant to see but never know beyond the thin veneer of its existence. I suppose that’s just how quickly I adapt to new environments now, always ready to evolve as needed. It’s been a strength of mine from the start if only because my family was neither here nor there and everywhere at once, always traveling and engaged with amazing adventures that defy explination, but one does not understand their abilities simply because they have them; to do that takes time and reflection, I suppose 37 years is time enough...

I got back to my hostel and received a message from Doriane for a late-night tea session.

“Why not?” I said.

The place she decided to go was really plush, and in the old town docks where all the goods of Taipei used to come and go back in the day. Old and worn, smelling of time and coin. The tea house was so plush It reminded me of some of the places I went with my crazy Italian lover back in New York. I suppose that’s a redundant statement, all Italians are crazy lovers... in any case, that’s where my mind went as we ordered four separate cups of tea, as Doriane and Oliver her partner had invited another friend from Australia, I think.  

Now I’ve had my share of crank in life, the caffeine variety especially, but this was on another level. It was not overly powerful like the cups I had in Myanmar, but was instead a flavor profile bonanza. I simply couldn’t believe that so many differences could exist for one leaf, but there we were, Anarchists without borders in a candle-lit room above the old docks, in the Capital city of a nation in exile, sipping tea and conspiring towards the evolution of the species. Life is a real trip for those who live it to the fullest, it would seem... We spoke of global affairs, where to live, what to do if and when things get really bad. Doriane said it was like experiencing a real life round table in Kind Aurthur’s court, we all agreed.

I remember so distinctly asking the universe for two things as a child, and I may have mentioned it before, but it deserves a retelling.

1: I want to live in a science fiction reality.

2: Make me a vessel of destiny.

My father always told me to be careful what I ask for... Why did he say that? Because in life, when you ask, you are infinitely more likely to receive than if you do not. I asked, and here I am, in a science fiction reality that’s getting more so every passing second to the point where I wish it would stop, and I seem to be the focal point upon which the entire multiverse pivots upon, at least that’s what life feels like once you’ve committed yourself to doing the right thing even if it means dying a horrible death or living a life estranged from everyone and everything still inside the matrix.

What are we to do when we find out how powerful we really are? Especially when we’ve been led to believe the opposite, and worse, led towards actual weakness in every corridor available within the system? Well, let me tell you. We are to embrace the suck of self-improvement. Reject the comfort of self-delusion, and rise! We only live this life once after all. It is a waste without equal to assume your life is devoid of meaning or power. So live it up! Challenge the Gods and their laws, and find only the one power, the one rule, and use it as a tool. Eventually you will either be alive as never before, a true fool of the tarot, ready for all that comes, or cowering against the tides of change, curled up into another brick for the wall... So what will it be, oh adventurer?

The choice, is always yours...

No Plan Japan 40 : The Red String

It’s been a really fucking long and painful road for me where relationships are concerned, and when I say I’m ready to settle down, I don’t mean that it’s time to give up on my ways and start a family, though that’s half true, what it means is that I’m ready to stop treating relationships like stopgaps for my bleeding heart, and treat them as they deserve to be, with the utmost respect and care. Towards this end, while with Zoe in Tainan and visiting one of the many temples dedicated to the Goddesses of love, I placed a red line of string around my hand, and Zoe tied it off, though she was clearly not thrilled at the idea.

Setting a prayer stone (Money) into the receptacle and making the mental and emotional commitment to the ritual, we took our leave of the temple, though it would follow us and me for long after. More on that, much, muuuuccchhh later… Funnily enough I tugged at the string, and it nearly fell off, Zoe chided me, and I told her to fasten it better to assure destiny has a fair shake of it. She didn’t understand that, but then who does?

We had lunch inside a tiny hole in the wall business which was smaller than a shipping container but served meals of such high quality, both taste, presentation and materials, that I could do nothing but shake my head in wonder. So many people are convinced they need a massive operation with tons of capital and support to make things works, and here on the other side of the world, on an island which has been fighting a war for recognition and sovereignty for over 80 years, I’m totally amazed at what one couple have accomplished in 150 square feet of floor space. The desert was so good I made the picture of it my phones screen saver. (And it still is even today in August of 2026)

We went to a bunch of museums on Taiwanese history and culture, I learned a lot I never knew, that’s the thing about museums, so much history consolidated into a single point, and yet so few people interested. Sure, the place isn’t empty, but in Alexander the greats vision for the world before the sickness of empire took him, every citizen would live two lives, one in public, and one in private, yet both with libraries as their fulcrum point. How far are we from that today? When was the last time you checked into a library? Much less did so and lost track of time inside a tome?

Not that I’m defending Mr. Alexander, what exactly was his last name again? Surely not great... Ohh right, they didn’t have last names back then. Wait, things were so different in the past that most people cannot and will not bother imagining it? Yup. That’s where we are. The past is not dead, nor is it alive, it is the receipt for the present no one cares to audit, and not much else save an impulse, a heavy suggestion on what should come next. Yet we are able to break from that mold whenever we wish, it is only ones Will which prevents or ensures it. And what, pray tell, is your Will, dear reader? What is it aimed towards? Do you even know? The question alone, once asked, brings about a certainty of its own, for it is the first act of setting your internal compass.

Exiting the museum we got U-bikes and rode across the city to the beach where a massive festival was taking place. Now, I’ve been around a lot of Asia people, and I’ve never seen them party like this before, it was like a scene from Leonardo Dicaprio’s The Beach, only at scale, jet skis, motorcycles and bunny costume stage performers included.

Passing by all the stands and hawkers we finally made it to a relatively empty stretch of beach where Zoe began playing a unique type of instrument the size of a wafer which you blow over with your mouth and it vibrates, producing something between a flute and a harmonica. It was like a dream. Such a strange melody mixing with a scene I had not seen or been a part of since 2007 when I partied on an Island in South Korea with my University there, a beach filled with Asians, and a handful of token foreigners, only this time I was thee token white guy among a sea of Taiwanese.

“Aren’t you going in?” She said, stopping her music.

“Ehh, I don’t want to have to dry off.”

“Are you serious?” she said, looking at me like a stranger and worse, like a bitch. My face scrunched and my feet took purchase of the sand.

“No.” I said and ran into the ocean. Nothing gets a man’s juices pumping more than a woman asking him if he’s scared. When Zoe and I were lovers back before the end of the world in 2012 I was a madman incarnate. That was the man she last knew, and that was the man I’ve been making peace with ever since. How do we juggle all the various versions of ourselves when each one suited so well at one time, and with certain people? Only to find that we are neither that version or the one we are currently, but something else altogether.

We left the beach on our U-bikes and returned them before going to a bar in midtown. It was there that Zoe had some alcohol and I was tempted but refrained. It’s been 5 years now since I walked away from the bottle, and when Zoe and I were together it had only been two years since I started partying, so I was in the thick of it then. Instead of going backwards I decided to ghost myself into the same state without any substances. Mind controlling myself into drunkenness. Zoe didn’t like that; she thought I was making fun of her. But how else can one see the truth without a blatant example?

When we got back to the hostel Zoe came to me in the middle of the night, her body shaking with the chills. She could not feel her own heartbeat and asked me to check. I did. Placing my head against her bare back and kissing her forehead to check her temperature as my mother had always done. That was... not a good idea. As innocent and diligent as it was… Suddenly we were lovers again in the before time, but it was only a blip, I told her she was alive and well and gave her a hug, we sat in the kitchen a few minutes then went back to bed, returning to dreams which once were, just like us...

The next morning, we departed Hainan to Taichung, the city Zoe and Mili, her boyfriend, live and work in. On the bus I was laughing hard at social posts I was listening to on my headset, Zoe hushed me, and I got the same medicine I gave the man days before. That put me straight. Once there we met with Mili, he and I went on a walk around the city together to get the food. It was on this walk that Mili asked me about my relationship with Zoe.

“Did she tell you we were once lovers?” I asked.

“No. She’s told me nothing. Is that normal for her?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Do you...?”

“No, I have no aims with Zoe.” He relaxed. “And you? Is it serious between you?”

“I can’t tell. She’s so hard to read.” I nodded, knowingly.

I’ve been with a lot of lovers in my day, in both good times and bad, and in the old days I did so as a snake in the grass between them, whispering of eternal life and of challenging God in his own house... Thankfully those dark days are behind me. We made dinner and watched “Open your eyes.” The Spanish precursor to Vanilla Sky, which I really enjoyed, right after we watched season 7 ep 7 of Black Mirror, and boy am I glad I don’t watch T.V. anymore, this stuff is sick as hell! We went to bed in a strange pool of energies, but sleep came fast, thanks to the tiredness of the long Goddess march still hanging on.

The next morning Mili gave me a hug and thanks me before going to work. Zoe and I were left alone to have a very frank conversation about what happened over the last few days as well going over what happened over a decade ago between us, what a recap! What a gift so few get... We rode U-bikes through the city together until reaching the bus depot, we hugged and thanked each other, then I watched her ride off into the city, vanishing in a sea of people, one people, united by a common destiny, a common love…

No Plan Japan 39 : The Longest March

I had no idea I would be marching until my feet bled with 300,000 people when I came to Taiwan, and yet here I am, having checked out of my hostel and gotten on a train so packed to the gills that there was literally no room to shift your weight for more than 2 inches in any direction. All the seats were taken, clearly, and every other space was used for people to stand or for their luggage, which few people had because they knew damn well there wouldn’t be any room. And every one of them wearing high-def colors, hats and bandanas, some matching, others close but different, but all of a kind. It was like being in a neon pastel tourist brigade who had bought out the entire train for themselves. It was very uncomfortable to say the least, especially since I was the tallest person there, and standing in a nook with my neck crinked for 2 hours…

Once we arrived in the starting city for the march I was taken aback at just how many people were involved with this thing. Not only was there the infrastructure to support 300,000 people in a small town, but there were hordes of watchers who added to the sense of culmination. I’ve never been to a tour de France or the like, but It seemed to me that this was even more of a big deal just because of the number of participants involved. It took me a good minute to get my bearings.

I found a 7/11 in the mix and from there I was able to communicate with Zoe and find out where she was. Apparently, she and her boyfriend had gotten on a later train which was even more packed, so they were running late. There were so many people yelling and using their phones I was getting irritated, apparently loud noises are not my favorite, but stereo audio from a phone just pisses me off. A guy offered me some crackers while smoking two cigarettes at once, all I was thinking was;

“Forget the crackers, Jack, hand me that death stick!” yet I held my tongue, took the crackers, and thanked the man. Many more people came to offer me gifts, but not because I was 1 of maybe 3 white foreigners there, but because that is the spirit of the entire ritual of carrying the fisherman Sea Goddess of salvation on a tabernacle across many cities for three days.

I was told to march a while since their train went to the next train stop, and I found them at a gas station and was immediately in an unending conversation with Zoe’s boyfriend Mili, a Czech man who told me his entire life’s story and then some, I tried listening to him but it was hard to hear with all the commotion, he was so set on talking to me that when we lost track of Zoe he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest and kept talking. We found her eventually, but then lost her and found her again. That was the cycle for the entire 15 hours of walking we did from 11 PM to 2Pm the next day... I have never wanted to walk in silence more in all my life. I have never met anyone capable of ceaseless exposition like this man I walked with in Taiwan.

During one of the many long stints that Zoe vanished we were stopped by two young girls named Lilly and May interviewing participants for their high school, they stopped me and asked why I was there, how I had heard about it and the like. Their English was very poor, so Mili translated, as he was an English teacher in Taiwan, originally from Czech.

Eventually we did meet up again with Zoe and at that point everyone was pooped. Feet bloody or almost so. We got off the main road and went into a cafe with the two high school girls who had followed us because they had stopped us in order to interview me.

We got a ride to the main train station and went to where they both live in a city nearby. We had a meal and watched a movie Zoe was in called Human Surge 3, about travel and destiny, a homemade film by some Indian producer. Zoe made us dinner, we ate, took naps, and then it was time to take the bus to Tainan, a famous city in the south known for beaches and good food.

On that night bus there was a man blasting stuff on his phone, I told him to turn off and he lost his shit, I just ignored him. I simply cannot fathom how so many people are clueless as to how wrong it is to generate unignorable noise from a device while surrounded by others. I went from a sea of strangers worshipping the Goddess of the Sea, only to go towards another sea of people, worshipping the Goddess of Love...

No Plan Japan 38 : Where DeOccultist’s Dare

How do we know what we know? Is there a guarantee for it somewhere written in adamant itself? I’m sure there is, but for now we must be able to verify with our own eyes that which we claim. My claim is that the human race is and has been indoctrinated by an insidious mental virus known as authority. A menacing evil which makes us put guns to each other’s heads and feather our fingers over the trigger as we demand obedience to the illogical, or else…

I know, it’s not pretty to admit, but just as he without sin is to cast the first stone, he without cult affiliations shall do likewise... However, once you understand the definition of a cult and how easily they do what they do, then suddenly the empty room of one’s life begins to fill with arching shadows which scratch, claw and bite at one’s heels, revealing a world we never knew was there, always feeding on our ignorance while it grows to terrible strength all around us, yet still invisible to the trained eye. Trained not to see in this case, as all authority demands as its first tenant.

Decades ago, after watching the Matrix for the first time I had a revelation about our world which had been festering just under the surface for me since birth. I knew, of course, that there were secrets everyone kept, that much was obvious to even the dullest blade in the drawer, but it was not until watching that movie that the greatest secret of all, the one we keep from ourselves, revealed itself to me. Back in 1999, watching the Matrix, I found that Human beings have such fantastic powers of imagination, that we can bamboozle ourselves into a trance which then spreads like a virus to others until it cultures everyone and everything in reach.

Then, wala, you have a global infrastructure for inculcation with a common core, spread across hundreds of language groups, ethnicities, religions and economies. You might agree that religions and economic systems can be considered cults, and you might even agree that you were in one before, but not now... Certainly not today, out of all days, are you in a substrate of lies... No! Today your free from any and all towering edifices of control and manipulation unseen to all within its ethereal walls. Right? I mean, how can anyone walk the earth and not know their thoughts and feelings belong to some crusty skeleton crew of big brained occultists eons ago?

This is why the Matrix is such a powerful allegory, It perfectly blends our desire for answers with our need to fit in and be accepted, to be safe, and then melts the entire container into itself, leaving only the question.

“Am I really free?”

The answer is hidden in the question.

Really = REAL E = real energy / reel energy (control it)

If one can control their energies, it is because they understand themselves, what makes them tick. Normies can’t do this “normally” because they hitched their tent to the cultural cattle drive, and alter themselves into WIFI range extenders for said cult, having little to no desire for independence. Life outside of the Matrix begins and ends with awareness. You either can see the invisible bars of the prison, or you cannot. Either way, we deal with the repercussions. The big difference is, with awareness you can block the incoming blows, or even avoid them altogether.

I decided years ago that I would not simply sit idly by and watch the world collapse into ignorance and war. Towards this end I began to study the pillars of the lie. Leading me to the likes of Alex Jones, who I had used audio from in a home movie with my friends way back in 04 but didn’t even know who he was yet, and would go on to support for years through his website InfoWars.com

Michael Tsarion, whose Atlantis, Alien Visitation, and genetic Manipulation series blew my mind, and opened the doors for so many other researchers to follow.

Terrence Mckenna, whose Esalen talks about the stoned ape theory, language, religion and the Eschaton, altered my view on life forever more, and led me to the jungles of Peru searching for a rebirth, finding it in the bowels of creation sipping on Ayahuasca for 30 days straight.

Mark Passio, whose WhatOnEarthIsHappening.com website was my go to for becoming a de-ocultist myself, eventually joining his One Great Work Network, a group of Anarchist De-Occultist, (those who are dedicated to Truth, Love, Freedom, and total self-responsibility who reveal what has been forced into secrecy.) This group hails from every nation, language and ethnicity, but has one aim in common, the one above, and we implement it below, within the physical domain, the land of hardened shadow.

To my great surprise I was messaged by a member of this group, whom I had taken my How to become the true media course with (HTBTTM). Dorianne Sarrasin. She’d been living and working in Taipei for some years with her man and had seen that I was in Taiwan. We decided to meet at a vegan cafe, as all three of us are, and it was a wonderful time. Imagine it. You join a group of people who are considered the world over to be straight up EVIL. Anarchy = Chaos, right? Never mind that it = No Masters, and thus, NO Slaves. You join this group and travel the world, and your invited out of the blue to meet with one of its members.

In my mind I imagined Lenin, Trotsky and Guillaume Apollinaire gathered in the La Closerie des Lilas cafe, in Paris 1910. A den of revolutionaries hell bent on change. How interesting that Arch Duke Ferdinand and Sigmund Freud too were there at that time. Do any of us really expect to be a part of history in ways which guide it well beyond our own lives? Not to say I will, or even any of the people in our group, but surely being apart of a movement, no matter what its chances of success, alters the course of history more than doing nothing of the kind can.

Dorianne and her partner invited me to a lovely cafe and we talked it up into the night. Walking the city and discussing the course of history in our time. It’s one thing to discuss your inner most thoughts with people you know, who, though perhaps interested in hearing you out, do not see things the same and contribute nothing substantial to the conversation, vs doing so with people who feel the same and have delved deep into the subjects you have for years at a time. Like a attention starved animal waiting for someone, anyone to come home and play, I charged into the conversations with joy and release in my heart.

We ended the night with a walk around the city capital building, a massive temple complex dedicated to Chiang Kai-Shek, the man who led the nationalist’s in the Chinese civil war and eventually fled to Taiwan in order to survive the communists. The whole place feels more like a scene from a fantasy series than a real place, but that’s the whole idea. The cult of authority made Chiang into a demi-god in order to maintain the separation from the other authority, Mao Ze Dung, claiming power over the people. This is the game played over and over against humanity, and it never fails to divide, and conquer. That, is why I do what I do, and why you too, must find your calling to true care, where all Love stems from, and flows…

No Plan Japan 37 : End Game

By now you may have realized that I’m something of a gamer. Not like the people you hear about who play professionally for money, or even the kind who stay up all hours of the night grinding away for the perfect items, though that too was my life, for a time. The games which truly seem to interest me are usually those with the greatest philosophical depth and historical intrigue, even when the history is fake, the intrigues are always the same in most respects where humanity is concerned.

Most fiction is only apt for the reader because it strings along our own human concerns, even if wrapped in alien garb. To this end Zelda, has always been a favorite series of mine, as its childlike themes pitted heavily against adult ones, with an extraordinary mix of music and visuals, created a myth of life and meaning within me which has lived on from the beginning back in the early 90’s, till now.

As I sit here, tears flowing down my face watching the credit’s role on this masterpiece of entertainment, life lessons and the dedication to completion, I cannot help but admit that the idea I had of this game as a child is vastly different than it is now. Before getting anywhere close to the end as a boy, I only knew the mystery, and the horror of the game itself, seeing very little of the many and varied stories locked behind hours of gameplay I was never able to accomplish back then.

Imagine it. Your deeply affected by a memory of something as a child, modeling so much of your worldview on that memory, only to find, decades later, that the memory was only a fragment of a whole you never knew, and now the entire web of connective tissue for that worldview ravels away. Every beginning is just the next step from another end, and I came here to change the script of my past and begin a new future, so even though I feel the weight of that transition weighing heavily upon me, it’s a welcome one, for it can only mean growth from this point forward.

So, like all humans In an overly stressful environment, I found a release valve. Physical exercise. My preferred method? Biking. So, I hired another U-bike and decided to go another direction than before, finding myself in a Jurassic park level geothermal pool astride a mountain with a group of Taiwanese elders no younger than 62. I took off my shoes and socks and dipped my feet in. Immediately I was annoyed by a woman playing a T.V. show on her phone. I held my tongue initially, but when there was a man with a burned leg who wanted in and she told him to fuck off, I told her to fuck off with her phone and she left the pool in a rage while the burned man took her place and everyone smiled.

I continued up the mountain where I found a lovely waterfall with a good amount of water flowing, enough even to swim, but I didn’t feel like riding down the mountain wet. A little further on there was even a chaetae imported from Europe, whose view above the city resembled Europe itself. Going down that massive hill was super-fast and fun, but also dangerous. I was on the highway and clearly not meant to be there. Corvettes, porches and Bently’s blasting past me inches away, as well the horde of cheap cars and trucks. My hands were shaking with sweat and tension when I finally got back to the bottom, and found the bike path along the river again.

At the bottom I found the most highly rated Vegan spot in the area and spent $20 on truffle ramen, lion’s mane tofu burgers, matcha pana cota and grilled veggies, bursting at the seams afterword, very delicious stuff! I still find it hard to believe that the Taiwanese have more Vegan options than most people. I know it’s the capital city and all, but still, I’m impressed. The place is tiny, and inside an old warehouse district famous in Taipei, you would never know it was there unless you were looking. Isn’t that how life is though? Hiding in plain sight, waiting for the curious?

I continued on by U-bike along the coast, watching water-skiers being pulled behind speed boats in the city canal. By the time I finally pushed the bike into one of the many open air locking grids, I didn’t have enough money on my  card to pay, so I left the bike there, put money on the card, and came back to pay. 7 hours of fun and exercise in a capital city for $15.60... welcome to Taiwan folks!

No Plan Japan 36 : Dragon Dream Pipe

What do we take away from dreams, and who are we really in comparison with those characters we show ourselves to be within them? Yesterday as I rode the U-bike across the city I come to a point at the river where everything that I’d become in life reflected back to me with piercing shards of light, the waters of that foreign land linking me to every other. Within those beams of light I saw the vast divide between the boy I was when my father lived, and the man I’ve become after, and directly because of his death. Words fail. Feelings rush for expression. The hard truths of life are the easiest to ignore until their certainty becomes inescapable, and we must exchange our fantasies for reality, asserting our true humanity or face the consequences of living a fatal fiction whose wick, wax and flame are one in the same, US. Our body, mind and soul.

I wept at that river, for my father, and myself. I held nothing back. There was no point. In all the grand echelons of experience nothing so overwhelms us as absolution, or its kin.  We reflect on all that was, as a being in the moment, and everything that comes next becomes an ever-increasing calculation, a moment-by-moment alteration of every decision, because of all those you’ve already made. In other words, I’ve become wise, and such a becoming always requires a sacrifice. Innocence of course, that much is obvious, but also the loss of our youth, health and sanity, taken in small bites over the course of years, then regurgitated back to us in waves of regret which act as modifiers for the rest of our lives. Moderators if you will, of our choices.

This is what dreams mean to me. They are psychospiritual modifiers for our behavior which we cannot escape, nor rationalize, and that is the key. For it is our ability to rationalize which prevents us from being able to actualize our true selves and thus accomplish the goals worthy of them. The illusions we cast over reality allow us to negate it, at least in our own heads. Dreams aren’t like that.

(You won’t rationalize the tea ceremony you had with your dead father in the basement, while trying to control a wild dog that loves you, isn’t yours, but wants to be and won’t let you help a strange woman with her iPad as the entire city sinks beneath the waves, and you certainly won’t make head or tail of finding a group of savage children coaxing you to climb a sheer cliff face in order to swing from unseen vines and chose a shallow grave for yourself below…)

You will however, be able to feel the emotional impact of ceremony, family, community and technology, all of which are under eternal threat, or threatening the rest, now won’t you? Using negation, we can know what no other method will show. What does the thing happening, take away? Did the dog prevent the woman from success with technology? Did the waves prevent community, or care? Did not being able to drink the tea with my father, prevent me from getting to know and honor him? The answer to all these questions is no. Nothing was taken away. The woman wasn’t prevented from getting to know technology. Family and community were maintained. I know my father better now, through the dream, and its apophatic lesson.

The dream taught me that, even as every force of man and nature works at odds, the substantial things to our existence continue on, and it is the struggle and refinement of ourselves and thus our situations, which give it all meaning. Always to the higher, they say. Go for gold. Make the most of it. The hallmarks of high achievement.

On that ride, before my tears had even finished, I promised my father that even though I had failed him in life, I would honor him in death. Carrying the family name as I had sworn not to while he lived. I thanked him for all he’d done. All those hard lessons meant for hardheaded fools like me. How can I deny the result? I am who I am because of him, and because of all the men like him who helped mold me. So, what now? Where do I go now that I know and understand the lessons? Do I go on a crusade, marching across time and space for the heart and soul of an entire race? An entire civilization? Yes. But also no. My goals are universal, and my methods equally so, for love has no bounds, nor limits.

The feelings I felt had to find a road to express themselves through, so I left the hostel and got another regular u-bike, non-electric, heading up instead of around this time. It was tough going, as the bike isn’t exactly built for such hard climbs. On the way up I rode for a short time with a pair of American expats riding $7,000 dollar rode bikes who moved here more than 30 years ago, and were now married to Taiwanese women and running businesses here together. We spoke as we rode, and when the reaching the fork in the rode, said our fair-wells. It’s always a trip to meet your countrymen living abroad, showing you all the ways you could be, if only you leapt to another pond. but as I rode I was motivated by an elder couple descending the hill in a jog.

“Ohhh Very Strong!” they said with wide eyes and nodding heads.

“I try!” I replied with an exhausted breath.

As soon as I passed the corner, out of sight from the elderly couple, I found abandoned and broken watch towers, overgrown by vines and large leafed greenery, too dangerous to climb from all the rot.

A mile after that, at the summit of the mountain there was a high-end resort whose entrance was giant boulders concreted together and etched with yellow metal, its parking lot filled with luxury cars of foreign and domestic makes. This is where the climb ended and I zoomed down the road, being passed by some of the same sports cars in both directions.

Below that another mile was a Buddhist temple on the edge of a cliff, whose only visible tenants were an army of cats, surprised at my appearance, though within I could hear the chanting of monks. On a foot-path leading down the hill from the monastery was an ancient village overgrown by the jungle beside a waterfall, whose plaques were so caked with moss that they seemed to be more plant than anything else.

The ride down was fast and fun in the jungle forest. I returned my U-bike once back in town, paying $2.00 for the time... what a screaming deal. Then I looked up vegan eats and found a small buffet place. I ordered a massive plate for $3.00 and then, when trying to order another one, the owners just said.

“Thank you for coming, come again!”

“No no,” I said smiling, “I want another plate please.” The lady was in shock, and had I not just climbed a mountain I would never have been hungry enough to finish both either. I ordered different things for the second order and paid the $6 total. An old toothless woman smiling at me like a fool, nodding excitedly at my appetite. I left that little shop and found the subway, 80 minutes later I was back at the Hostel, wondering at where life would take me next. I had no idea...

No Plan Japan 35 : Hello Again

The next day I took the subway in the wrong direction a few stops trying to meet up with Zoe, luckily, she was late as well. I almost didn’t recognize her as we met, she was wearing a mask, and her hair was short, she took me to a lovely vegan spot she knew about, as she had become one some years ago for a time; it was really nice, but way more expensive. $15 a dish, a far cry from $3.15, but then much higher quality. From there we walked around and found e-bikes which are scattered throughout the city called U-Bikes, available to everyone using the subway cards which function as debit cards as well in many places, a genius system, but I didn’t register mine yet, so we plan on doing it tomorrow.

Loving my hostel, I booked three more nights and got to know the immediate area around it better until the night called me home. The next morning, I had more toast, tea and coffee for a boost, and met up with Zoe in Daan Park Station, a really cool subway set at the heart of a sprawling jungle park filled with exotic birds, turtles and other spirits. It felt like the safari zone or something in there. It was such a hot day too. We took some great pictures, walked barefoot on a stone challenge course, felt like I was trying out for Indiana Jones, so painful! But we both made it.

From there we went to a cafe called Oh-Cha for lunch, which had very nice Boba Tea and sandwiches. It was also right next to a market where hundreds of vendors were selling jewelry of all kinds, food, animals, and other exotics. I didn’t buy anything, but I certainly saw much which caught my eye.

We found some U-bikes, which aren’t anything to write home about in terms of quality, but they are far better than normal bikes if you want to go far on the cheap, and without much effort. It was fun, reminded me of our times together in Indonesia driving a moped around. The day drew to a close, I took her to the same bus station I used to arrive in the city from the Airport, bought a Pepsi because I thought she wanted it, she didn’t, I drank it all and felt like a bull in a China shop, she said so too, but she had been drinking liquor, so I felt the change in her too.

She suggested a route for me to take on the U-bike and departed. I followed her advice, getting a U-bike from a nearby lot, and rode around the riverbanks of the city on a bike path more glorious and well managed than any I’ve seen in the States, or anywhere else for that matter, again, very surprising, and I’m here for that, always. Nothing gets your life going faster than breaking through ignorance. There were so many riders and walkers too, though not nearly as many vending machines as Japan, here there are maybe 1/10 as many in general, though they are placed in very logical places, and always well managed. I tried several new drinks I’d never seen before, each one stranger and sugarier than the last.

Finally, I was pooped and returned to the hostel, where sleep came hard, and fast.

No Plan Japan 34 : The Taiwan Test

I got up without having slept much, I made too many mistakes with my food. Spice. Salt. Sugar, in excess, can’t be good. But anyways I spoke with Takashi once more, he was playing guitar softly in his bunk. The bus was 8 minutes to the airport, and once there, I got the best vegan meal they had, a fabulous 1,400 yen, sub $10 meal packed with veggies like okra, baby corn, seaweed, squash and more! Man, it was so good I almost went for another, but I knew it would be a waste, never overdo a good thing, it’s the fastest way to ruin it.

The flight was something else, for just as I sat down in a plane with 9 emergency rows, the flight attendant came only to me, putting their hand on my shoulder rest almost on my shoulder itself and asked with the seriousness of a man handing you a gun to go put down the family dog,

“Are you willing to save everyone on this plane when it crash?” I gulped secretly, hoping he hadn’t detected weakness, then nodded.

“Yes.”

“Okay!” he said, raising his hand triumphantly like a game show host and walking away as though I had just accepted the highest price of an already overpriced item at auction. So intense was the question and the response to it, that I actually was afraid that the plane would go down. Images of Tom Hanks confessing his soul to a blood soaked volley ball came to mind, yet it was not to be, as we landed safely and ahead of schedule. I spent the time playing and almost beating Zelda, Links awakening. This game is so amazing, the Japanese have managed to turn supposed children’s games into self realization tools using the hero’s journey and 8 bit technology. It’s no wonder their culture is so revered, and dare I say feared, for they are truly different, set apart by cultural realities which no other people can copy, nor would want to even if they could.

Now, I’ve usually tried to finish things in life, unless it truly wasn’t my jam, then I dropped it so quickly that I forgot about it before it even fell to the ground, but there are certain episodes within the many chapters which called for a different path, one which would put whatever I was doing on hold for decades at a time. The closer I get to beating this game, the closer I feel as though a part of the puzzle within my life has come together at long last. I started this journey more than 30 years ago in the back of my father’s white Ford F-150 on the way back from the San Diego farmers market, amazed and intimidated by the enemies, the music, the lore; and now, so close to finishing, it seems I’ve finally made a friend meant for me all those years ago.

Not to harp too much on it, as I’m sure most of the people reading this blog are not gamers, but even for those of you who are not, you too remember the magic of film, music and dance, of experiences which required your participation in order to be experienced, yet exist on their own as well, and can belong to anyone, anywhere. This only touches on the idea, but it flushes it out with enough consideration.

Going through security at airports is usually a strenuous activity, at least for those of us who aren’t professional travelers who are asleep on the plane before it even takes off and wake up at the destination escorted through premier, exclusive treatment barrages to the point of numbness, shaking hands with strangers then vanishing upon metal wings once more, headed for the clouds and lands of distant places. However there are times when going through security feels like a joke, or a formality barely worth addressing, and this was one of those times. I was whisked through security, no full body scanners that are so joyous to enter, no frisky buff man handler pat downs, just papers, photo, enter, done.

Once through, I exchanged $700.00 US for Yuan, got a $4 bus to the city which took an hour or more, made it to my hostel which was really plush, way nicer than I imagined it would be. Got a peanut noodle dish for $1 at the rail station a half mile away and roamed the city for a little bit before deciding on going to a computer repair place 45 minutes away by sky-rail, these really pretty and fun raised trains which make you feel like you’re in the future.

Once I found the place I was shocked at the cost, $411.00 for a screen replacement on my Mac M1 Air, which I only paid $1100 for a couple years ago. I had also replaced the screen once before while still under warranty, so for the second time in many years I’ve been able to regain a large portion of the initial cost via warranty. The best example of which is my E-Bike which I’ve had almost everything warrantied, costing almost more than the whole bike, a $3,000+ investment. Let this be a lesson to you folks, never use alcohol to clean electronics unless you know exactly what you’re doing. I gave them the computer and accepted the cost, for it is mine to bare, then returned to the hostel and checked in.

One of the things which really blows my mind about Taiwan is just how much more expensive it is than Japan, but just like Germany being entirely too cheap for the quality compared to the other countries in Europe, I’m beginning to get the full picture on economic warfare post ww2. No matter where I go in the world, I see the aftereffects of that conflict, the one which was supposedly finished back in 45, but clearly just took on a different guise to suit the needs of those who would continue fighting it.  As I go forward, my eyes open ever more.

The hostel was quiet for the most part, I had no roommates the first night, so sleeping was easy. The next morning I had the free toast and tea from the hostel, plus I bought one of their ramens, and set out for some shopping, being a day away still from seeing my old friend Zoe, whom I met back in 2011 in Australia. I set out to buy a new DAC for my phone, a small little dongle which you insert your 3.5 millimeter headphone jack into a usb-c for ones phone, but it doesn’t just function as an adapter, it actually boosts the signal and makes it much better, especially on my 2019 Pixel 4 XL, a seven year old phone that still kicks ass in most applications that I use, though its aging out now as well. I found a big building filled with electronics and bought  $13 dongle, it was terrible, cutting off the first word of every line while I listened to audio books, but it worked well enough as long as I only listened to music, I can’t wait to get a phone with an actual 3.5 mm headphone jack.

After that I went to a fancy coffee shop and bought a cup of black which sent me over the top, I was giggin, dancing around the city like a fool. I looked up all the vegan places and found quite a few, which was great, I chose the one which seemed most authentic and wasn’t far away. It ended up being a dirty little mom and pop shop hole in the wall, but for $3.15 I got more food than I needed, and it was very tasty. I gave them $4, no change, they were surprised. I guess they don’t tip at all in Asia. Makes sense.

Tomorrow I meet with Zoe, and our 14 year side quests finally cross paths, once more.