No eat, no sleep, only troubling visions

It's been a tough learning curve to get my body back in shape for another round of time travel. No sooner was I shot into space than I immediately began to feel like I had the plague. Coughing, sneezing, seeing ghosts. Now I'm holed up in a hotel in Shibuya, nursing my wounds, and trying to convince myself that it's Friday at 8 pm, and that this is a perfectly reasonable time to have dinner and not run screaming naked through a tai chi class because I'm feeling a little bit unhinged at the moment. I don't know what I would do with myself if everything in Japan weren't so goddamn fantastic and overwhelming. Leaving The Bay. It seems like only yesterday (or maybe the day before).















There is nothing at all like flying for twelve hours under duress, and being confronted head-on by an unrelenting breed of madness.















At least it would appear that we have options. The high speed boat seems like an alright exit strategy to me.















Do what with the what now?















Time zones be damned, it was right to work. The first show was at a little club in Nagoya above a shopping mall.












It was a-ok though everything sounded like it was underwater and I could swear that there was a bear playing the trombone at one point.












By the way, Obama is huge in Japan.















Like Godzilla huge.















Off to paint the town brown.