Tuesday, February 24, 2015
The title refers to those little birds in cages, Not a reference to the women who ply their trade in some seedy SM joint, Cages. The feathered birds be housed in wooden cages, that, for a price a tourist can release from the cage. Just open the door and watch them fly away....But dear readers, be aware these birds are addicted to smack, junk, horse, opium. They are on the gear. These little birds return to the cage for the next fix. As do the tourists. Although the tourists often return for a non-chemical bang. A drug all the same.
A better metaphor of the conditional expat or sexpat there cannot be. An invisible bungee cord springs them back to the country regardless of coups and impossible immigration polices. The tourists keep returning to Thailand. For them it is a drug, a shot of freedom. Flying without wings.
They must come back for the world that they left behind is full of misery and pain. They come back for the food and the temples. They may come back to write a book, record an album. They may return to the Kingdom to escape a messy divorce, to pursue a dull time drinking career. To take time to pile the blocks of their lives and take a look at it. They may try to insert the wrong wooden block inside the wrong dry wooden crack,
Let's not be cynical.
That strange game we call life it all comes tumbling down. In Bangkok. In Patpong, Heaven turns to hell.They, those that do this sort of thing, may rent an apartment on the 13th floor. They may jump from the balcony leaving nothing behind but a gruesome history. They may get hit by a train. Their novels meaningless now.
This novel has it all, death, pain, Sexual quirks and alcoholism. This novel explains why most men stay in Thailand and why many of us die here,
The author, Kevin Wood has been a nightclub owner, he is a regular musician at the Checkiin bar, He has done radio, he has acted in stage plays to much great response. He has also written a novel. A great one. He knows this city. He is qualified to write this novel
A great dirty one. A book that includes a woman addicted to drinking sperm. The protagonist keeps it cooled in the refrigerator. Yes, this is a brave novel.
A novel that I challenge anybody to not find entertaining Perhaps a little sickening at times but entertainment must turn the stomach as well as the mind.
We are lucky to have Kevin in Bangkok. We are lucky to have his art.
If Miller met Bukowski spoke about life in Bangkok at the corner bar near the kebab joint. 'Opium Sparrows' may have been born over that doner. Henry would have said "Write it." Kevin would had sad "Well, but,,,"
Miller would have said, "Give me a mention."
But there are no buts, well maybe a few. Vaginas and cocks too, along with butts, This is a book that while being a serious study on the expat condition is also full of sexual content.
I won't spoil the plot. That would be silly. Somebody once told me it was banned. That was silly too.
I suggest you find the book and read it. I read it in a day.
A wonderful Day. A day the lizards bathed in glory and Newman ordered a pizza. Sparrows and a sprinkling of O. Black bread, no olives. That would be decadent. And as my readers know- Newman doesn't do decadence.
The Beat Goes On..
Monday, February 23, 2015
Based near to the mouth of Soi 101/1 in the Udom Suk district of Bangkok sits a gem of a restaurant. It is simply called 101. The menu is not exhausting to read. My friends, know, and often belittle me about it. Yes, my fetish with menus. I read them. Study them. Examine them. Every word. Every price.
I do like to study menus and am often baffled at making a choice A sign of old age perhaps, a chronic indecision brought about by the complexity of words.
Give me a simple menu.
Like pulp novels and fast women I read them quick and make the right choices.
Most of the time.
The French had it right. Sit down in a place of eating and get what you are given.
What you are served in 101 is superb. The owner, Dutch, runs a tight ship. And a tight menu.
A range of soups (the home-made tomato is wonderful) duck pate, garlic prawns, mussels.
Unafraid to add a touch of fusion to the menu there's a roasted duck served with Thai red curry sauce. An abuse of water fowl perhaps, but adventurous and different and certainly brave. Personally I feel duck is best served with a fruit based sauce. Strawberry, for instance.
Homemade burgers, marinated ribs, a prime cut of fillet steak. I was surprised when the restaurateur explained that this was his first venture into running an eatery outside of Europe. The tables are full with Europeans and Thais. We keep going back there, and hope you don't get there first and take our table. This is a word of mouth establishment and one which will surely grow in popularity once assholes like me start spreading it about on the web..
101 is a little known treasure. Take a trip to the East of the City. Enjoy.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
"Gruesome Playground Injuries."
The title dragged my mind towards Luke Haines who wrote "Murder After Park," and "Unsolved Child Murder."
These songs were both brilliant. They asked questions and delayed answers which as every schoolboy knows is what the thing we call 'art' is all about. Haines was an artist, a musician and an author.
Thus far, he hasn't won any awards but has won my admiration and those of the few who still follow him.
He also once wrote a play.
Never got produced.
But we are not bitter.
Better to peel the next lemon than cry over the one you once sucked dry,
Peel the limelight.
Gruesome Playground Injuries by Ragiv Joseph.
I was won over by the cast and crew of this Bangkok performance. Especially during the questions and answers section. That's not to say I was glad it was over. I wasn't. I just enjoyed and envy the cast and crew. It was an extremely tough production executed professionally.
The story is about a stalker, an obsessive lover who follows his desire through the ages of his self-abuse and destruction. The woman of his dreams reluctant as she sees him for what he is.
A meditation of the pain of love. Gruesome Playground Injuries. Remember. That which we cling to too strongly will eventually destroy us. This, I believe is the message of the play.
Try squeezing a glass of the finest wine too tightly. It will break. You will lose both your wine and your glass and quite possibly your best drinking joint, Your sanity might also break. Do not stalk women, even childhood friends.
Past lovers, real or imagined, are in your past for a reason.
Keep them there.
Do not hold on too tightly to anyone because they will eventually let you down.
A cast of two, Siree Riewpaiboon and Jaime Zúñiga. both disturbed in their roles, both clueless in love, perhaps demonstrative of a society I left behind years ago. Both actors delivered the lines with passion and verve. Well crafted performances......The plot follows their relationship through the twists and turns and avenues of a troubled time... Hospital beds, walking sticks, love to the end.....
Why are they are both so dysfunctional, perhaps this is the point of this production. Why? We don't know. Perhaps the reason we are all dysfunctional, bad parenting and shitty religions.
Wonderful direction by Peter O'Neil, who was a real gentleman in person and a great man in every sense of the phrase. If anyone deserves to be producing plays it is Peter,
My only quibble is with Shakespeare. He started it. Everything you watch on HBO and the cinema screen began with Shakey.
He bloody started it.
Now lets get on with it.
Drama, death, murder, revenge.
We see this on the streets of Bangkok.
I demand more on the stage.
I demand a murder.
The Beat Goes On..