What was that Churchill saying? Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result. That’s what this felt like.
The teeming scene in front of the station made familiar Tokyo look deserted by comparison. The street stretching out before me between rows of crumbling low-rises and slumped office buildings looked l...
The feeling was a bit odd under the circumstances, but I was glad to be back at the Old Imperial. Windowless and low-ceilinged, dark and subdued, intimate despite its spaciousness, the bar has an air...
The Nigerians were gauntleting the entranceway. They bowed obsequiously low for Murakami and breathed Irasshaimase in unison. The one on the right spoke into his lapel mike. We walked down the steps....
Sometimes I go to her Facebook page. It’s silly, I know. Pathetic. And every time I do, I promise myself next time I’ll be stronger. I don’t even know what impels me. Why are the most painful memories...
It has everything to do with Rotterdam. America’s oil addiction is a sickness that’s killing the patient. Christ, Americans would rather send soldiers to war than carpool to work.
In the scope of the universe, and the arc of justice, my life is of little consequence.
I spotted Delilah instantly. She was one of a handful of people quietly attending the room’s lone baccarat table, and the only non-Asian in sight. She was dressed plainly, in black pants and a black,...
The National Surveillance State doesn't want anyone to be able to communicate without the authorities being able to monitor that communication.
You might find yourself passing a lone octogenarian, his shoulders bent with the weight of age, his slippers shuffling along the cobblestones, his passage as timeless and resolute as the ancient city...
You have to remember, the history the powers-that-be feed you always excludes what they managed to bury. Or whom.
Why are the most painful memories also the sweetest; why does the sweetness always draw us back no matter how long the pain might have kept us away beforehand? I don’t know,
We put our shoes away. I had already purchased the necessary accouterments at the convenience store across the street—shampoo, soap, scrubbing cloth, and towels—and handed Tatsu what he needed as we w...
We found a cab. I got in first and she slid in behind me. She told the driver to take us to 3-3-5 Shibuya-ku, south side of Roppongi-dori. I smiled. Tantra? I asked. She looked at me, perhaps a little...
War is a part of human nature, and we Japanese are human. But we have never fought, we have certainly never built weapons of mass destruction, to convince the world of the rightness of an idea. It too...
Three meters. I felt a fresh adrenaline dump in my torso, my limbs. His partners must have seen his face. Their shoulders tensed, their heads began to turn. Two meters. The guy to my right was closest...
Three guys just tried to kill me in Hong Kong. What? Three guys just tried to kill me in Hong Kong. I heard you. Are you serious? I didn’t detect anything in his voice, but it was hard to tell over th...
The second guy moved the gun, trying to track me, the movements overlarge and shaking. Then, maybe because he saw the cool bead I was drawing on him, his nerve broke. He started shooting in a spray-an...
Tatsu was true samurai, and would continue serving the same master no matter how many times that master ignored or even abused him. Devoted service was the highest end he knew. It
Springbank.