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Saturday, February 28, 2004

Sunday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-nine

Now, back to the transcript of my interview with Akira Yakamoo about the debilitating affect of Yakamoo inbreeding and Masu Yakamoo, who Akira said was the exception in the bloodline.

ME: Masu was bright enough, though, to recognize that his family was decaying?
AY: My yes. He became self sufficient and brilliant and was the first to see that Shaki was falling to pieces as his warped family collapsed and the Chinese Shaki power waned.
ME: So he took over?
AY: Yes. He was barely twelve but he confronted those Shaki who returned from China to find Shaki a wimpering, sad shadow of its former self.
ME: Just how did it all turn over?
AY: Masu met with the battered, tired Shaki masters of China.
ME: They were not expecting anything to be as bad as they found it?
AY: True. They knew that their Chinese contingent was festering and that keeping control of the country would not last. But they did not have much of an idea that Shaki was crumbling in Japan.
ME: It was difficult in those days to keep up with things.
AY: Of course. No telephones, no faxes. Legs carried messages. Horse legs and human legs. By the time a report got to its destination many other things had happened.
ME: Masu, you think, was just a freak of the inbreeding?
AY: I would think that with all that went wrong it was just a matter of time before at least one load of inbred blood went the right way. If you study inbreeding you will find out that the percentages sway.
ME: I will be doing some research [the previous text about inbreeding was inserted, of course, well after this conversation].
AY: But it was quite the reverse, as I mentioned. Masu was the extreme opposite of all that went wrong with the others. His facial features were perfect, his digits were straight and strong. He had no fear of rodents.
ME: Fear of rodents?
AY: Yes, it was an inbred characteristic that many Yakamoos had. They were petrified of bats, rats and squirrels. Anything in the rodent family.
ME: What would happen to them?
AY: Some would vomit, some would shake and quiver, some would go into shock, some would hurl themselves into a nearby stream and not come up for air. The rodent thing was horrible.
ME: And it did not affect Masu?
AY: No. In fact, he had pet rats. He used some of them to study tumors. He was, to my knowledge, one of the earliest researchers of tumors in the human body.
ME: Really?
YA: Yes. I told you, he was naturally brilliant.
ME: And he took over the kit and kaboodle.
AY: Yes.
ME: Can you tell that story?
AY: Yes.

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 6:59 PM

Friday, February 27, 2004

Saturday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-eight

Now, back to the transcript of my interview with Akira Yakamoo about the debilitating affect of Yakamoo inbreeding and Masu Yakamoo, who Akira said was the exception in the bloodline.

ME: Back to Masu. You mean to tell me that he was the only inbred Yakamoo who turned out normal?
AY: Not just normal. He was a freak in his own way because he was so brilliant.
ME: In what ways?
AY: At an early age Masu showed signs of being extraordinary. His parents, inbred themselves, were classic loons. And they were deformed. Masu’s father was born with ears on either side of his chin and, legend has it, could not tell the difference between a horse and a duck.
ME: So Masu’s father was retarded, then?
AY: There was no designation for retardation in ancient Japan. Masu’s father was, however, mentally damaged as well as physically deformed.
ME: He was retarded.
AY: Yes.
ME: And Masu’s mother?
AY: She ran away from the family after his birth.
ME: That sounds emotional and is common.
AY: You didn’t allow me to finish.
ME: Sorry.
AY: Masu’s mother ran away from the family after his birth and made it a habit to continue the act every day of her life. She would come home late in the afternoon so she could run away again the next morning.
ME: Wow.
AY: Her hair fell out shortly after she gave birth to Masu’s brother.
ME: Was he all right?
AY: No. He was born with two red dots on either cheek of his buttocks and he was allergic to water.
ME: Allergic to water? That’s fatal.
AY: In his case it did not kill him. It just made him sick every time he ingested any liquid.
ME: That’s torture. My goodness it’s horrible.
AY: Yes, he lived in constant pain and, of course, had to because without liquid he couldn’t live. It was some strange, twisted irony.
ME: Did Masu have any other siblings?
AY: Yes. Three sisters, triplets. All attached at the hips.
ME: Ewwwwwwww.
AY: Shame because legend has it they were beautiful.
ME: And that’s all about that family?
AY: No. One day, when all of her hair was gone, Masu’s mother did not return from her daily run-away routine.
ME: And?
AY: Masu’s father cried for two years straight. And he went deaf.
ME: And Masu?
AY: In an attempt, we imagine, to dowse his distress over the family’s woes, Masu became a master mathematician, studying day and night. And he learned that he learned quickly and became a natural student of science and math and just about everything.

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 7:02 PM

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Friday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-seven

I admitted to Desmond Fraught that Picanutta Hitachi gave me the telephone number.
“All right. Now, what do you want with me?”
I told him about this book, about my connection with Yakamoo and as much as I could tell him. Then I asked if he would talk to me about what he knew and if that could be published.
“I am old now, you know,” Fraught said.
“Yes, but you are every bit as brilliant.”
“No I am not. I have slipped, I am fading awake [sic].”
“You mean away, fading away.”
“You see? My English is leaving, it is turning back into Churman [sic].”
“German.”
“Ya vol.”
“But you wrote all of those great books. Surely you can talk to me about what you still know.”
“Why are you doing this? No one cares.”
“But you are wrong, professor. The whole world is hungry for this history to be written.”
“You are young and idealistic. No one cares.”
“Well, then, do it because you care.”
“What makes you think I care?”
“You have devoted your life to your studies, to the great identity of the Japanese, to the culture and the people. What are you doing? Telling me your life was a complete waste?”
“Yes, just about.”
“No, no. You mustn’t think that way. You have been respected, honored and followed for decades.”
“No one cares.”
“Professor, please. If you are not part of my history then it will not be a complete and unabridged work.”
“Who cares?”
“Many people.”
“You are unconvincing, but if you want something to attribute as a quote from me then here is something.”
“Terrific, thank you. Go ahead.”
“I think everyone is a stupid head.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stupid head, everyone. Das means all peoples are stupid in the knucklehead, you know?”

Suddenly, someone else’s voice came through the phone, while in the background I could still hear Fraught bantering. The new voice said, “Excuse me, but Mr. Fraught is not supposed to be on the telephone.”
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to upset him. I am a writer and I was calling to …”
“I don’t care who you are or why you are calling him. The point is, the poor old man is a loon, a major loon, and he is not supposed to have contact with anyone outside of his staff.”
“Well since he picked up the phone I thought …”
“Doesn’t matter what you thought or what you think or who you are or what you eat or who you love or what you study. Mr. Fraught is in no shape to talk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well we aren’t. We make good money to take care of him. It is our livelihood. We could lose our jobs if someone knows that he picked up the phone and was talking to some yokel.”
“I’m not a yokel.”
“You are whatever you are, that doesn’t matter. Now go about your way and don’t call here again.”

The phone slammed down and the dial tone came a-hummin’.

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 6:58 PM

Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Thursday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-six

I continued my conversation with the man on the phone at the number I had for Picanutta Hitachi.
I said, “So, are you Mr. Hitachi? And do you know where I can find Desmond Fraught.”
“I do.”
“And you are?”
“Are what?”
“You said you do, meaning you can find Fraught but you didn’t say you are Mr. Hitachi.”
“No, I didn’t. I may never say that.”
“Then you are?”
“If I say yes it will be an admission. And if I say yes and I am not Mr. Hitachi, then I will be an imposter.”
“If you are Mr. Hitachi and you are unwilling to admit it, you are afraid of something.”
“Some thing?”
“Yes. Maybe many things.”
“Or some one?”
“Maybe many a some one.”
“How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“You don’t.”
“So you see, if I am Mr. Hitachi then I have reason not to trust whoever you say you are.”
“But only if you are afraid of something.”
“Some thing?”
“Yes. Maybe many things.”
“Or some one?”
“Maybe many a some one.”

I sighed. Whoever it was on the other side of the phone connection remained quiet. Then I said, “Are you afraid of Shaki?”
There was a beat of silence. Then another and another. Then the voice said, “Take down this number.”

I copied the telephone number and then heard the loud slam of the phone receiver. I figured that was Mr. Hitachi and he lived in terrible fear of anyone knowing his identity. I didn’t know why. That story appeared to be a mystery. But, I had another telephone number and I was convinced it was the number for Desmond Fraught.

“Hello,” I said when someone answered the phone at the number I dialed.
“Hello,” said the thick German accented voice.
“Is this Desmond Fraught?”
“If it is then you have the same name as I do.”
“No, I mean are you Desmond Fraught? The same one who wrote all those books about Japan and believed in the power of the Yakamoo family?”
“Thas ist minst. I mean, that is me. But how did you find me?”
“I am not at liberty to say,” I said, protecting Mr. Hitachi.
“Oh, so Hitachi is giving my number out again, eh? Shvine.”
“No, no, it wasn’t him.”
“Liar. Now, what do you want with me?”

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 7:05 PM

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

Wednesday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-five

I continued my conversation with the man on the phone at the number I had for Picanutta Hitachi.
“Please, I would like to talk to Mr. Hitachi because I believe he knows where I can find Desmond Fraught.”
“You do?” said the voice that insinuated it might be Mr. Hitachi.
“I do.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the professor named Fraught was married to Mr. Hitachi’s sister.”
“When?”
“Some time back.”
“You know this?”
“Yes.”
“You know, you don’t guess?”
“Yes I know. Do you know?”
“What?”
“That Fraught was married to Mr. Hitachi’s sister?”
“How do you think I know that?”
“Well, since you answer for Mr. Hitachi, I figure you know a lot.”
“I know a lot.”
“Then where is Mr. Hitachi?”
“But you say you really want to talk to Fraught.”
“Yes.”
“Then why call Mr. Hitachi?”
“I don’t have a number for Fraught.”
“I see. So you think Mr. Hitachi knows where Mr. Fraught is and that Mr. Fraught may have a phone and that Mr. Hitachi will give you Mr. Fraught’s phone number? Is that what is going on here?"
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“Well, I thought I would tell Mr. Hitatchi, not anyone who answered his phone.”
“How do you know anyone is anyone?”
“You are anyone, right?”
“I am someone, but which one you don’t know?”
“I can only assume you aren’t the one, just someone, or else you would have said so.”
“I would have told you I am the someone you want?”
“Yes, not just anyone.”
“Anyone may be the someone you want, as long as that someone isn’t Fraught.”
“You aren’t Fraught, are you?”
“Am I?”
“Yes, are you Fraught?”
“I thought you knew I wasn’t Fraught because you were calling Hitachi to find out Fraught’s phone number. You said that is what is going on here, right?”
“Yes. So you aren’t Fraught.”
“No I am not. Nor am I just anybody. You are just anybody. To me at least.”
“You are Mr. Hitachi, right?”
“How very direct of you. Just who did you think I was? Or am?”
“I thought you were someone answering the phone for Mr. Hitachi. Like a butler.”

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 7:15 PM

Monday, February 23, 2004

Tuesday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-four

Only one person I know of ever studied the Yakamoo inbreeding at all. That person is Desmond Fraught. It became evident that I had to discuss some of this with him, as all fifty of his books are out of print, including those that were never published. I had read them all, but never kept any of them.

Finding Fraught was not to be as easy as I thought it would be. I recalled a phone number he once had in Germany, but when I reached that number all I heard were shouts, gunshots and party horns. This could not be Fraught’s place, I knew, since he was a recluse and would never be in the same room as a party horn.

Fraught studied under Beldamine, who worked with Fistmentor, Jones (R.K., not T.Y.), Sitchadown, Lorenzo and the Japanese-American historian Picanutta Hitachi. It was Hitachi who I figured would have the lowdown on Fraught’s whereabouts, since Fraught was once married to Hitachi’s sister.

“Hello,” I said when the phone was answered at the number I had for Picanutta Hitachi. “I am looking for Mr. Hitachi.”
“You are?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Yes I am,” I said.
“And you are?”
“Yes I am.”
“No, I know you are, as in looking for Mr. Hitachi, but now I ask who you are.”
“Excuse me.”
“No problem.”

I told the man my name and my purpose.

“I do not think that Mr. Hitachi would want to be involved in a history of Japan,” the voice said.
“Are you related to Mr. Hitachi?” I asked.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering why you would know what he wants.”
“And you figured that being a relative makes this possible?”
“No, just that you are speaking for him. I want him to speak for him.”
“How do you know I am not him?”
“You didn’t say you were him.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, are you him?”
“You mean am I Mr. Hitachi?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know him?
“I have met him once.”
“So you would not recognize his voice?”
“No, I guess not.”
“You guess?”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I guess.”

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 7:18 PM

Sunday, February 22, 2004

Monday; The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan, part one hundred eighty-three

I talked to one more person about inbreeding, this one specifically about the inbreeding of Japanese people. Of course I mean Breton Storkplug, the professor who spent his final research years at the Institute for Upstart Inbreds in Tagalong, Wisconsin. Prof. Storkplug has long been the major person to speak to concerning the inbreeding practices of Japanese through the ages. He, of course, had no knowledge of the Yakamoo inbreeding as was being revealed to me by Akira Yakamoo. Prof. Storkplug did not deal with history, anyway, just with the scientific elements of Japanese inbreeding.

I asked him what might go awry with a Japanese inbreeding.
“My good man,” he said, “so much can go wrong it is troubling.”
Can you talk about one or two things that could go wrong?
“Sure.”
There was a long pause and then I said, “Can you do so now?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “First, there is trombocorpulosus.”
I asked him to explain that in simple terms.
“Yes, why of course,” he said. “This is the worst thing that can happen as an inbred fetus is developing, you see. The trauma occurs in the blood, which, how can I say this? Well, the blood is mixing with blood that has the same elements and causes sticknosis. That is a rupture of the bioclandine—a blood agent that defines the characteristics of the mixed blood and allows coagulation.”
I told Prof. Storkplug that this was still too complex an explanation.
“All right, let me simplify it even more. By the way, are you retarded?”
I told him I was not retarded.
He said, “I see. Well, you do show signs of a slow rate of intelligence.”
I apologized.
He said, “Not your fault, my good man. It is the fault of your blood. See, not all retards are such because of inbreeding. That is a misnomer.”
I asked him to go back and explain one thing that could go wrong with inbred development.
“Yes, of course. Well, it is hard to put it into terms that normal, blue-collar rubes would understand. You see, my good man, there are many things the common man should not try to understand.”
My readers are bright, I assured him. Then I asked if he would please try to explain what I asked him to explain.
“My good man,” he said, “the human body works like a conglomerate of forces that each have their own element of function and perfunctory strength. When we speak of inbreeding we speak of the blood, which is the lifeline of all life. No living thing is bloodless.”
I told the professor that I thought I made a big mistake asking him to participate now that I was seeing he was being difficult doing so.
He said, “Blast you and your book you little pebble. Who would care what you write? Who needs you or your family? I am an honorable and cherished academic genius who even at my age can pee without pain. So for you to judge me is abominable. You, who knows nothing of anything.”
I thanked him and began to walk away from him.
He said, “Many things can go wrong with inbred development. The first and second things are the worse. There, how’s that? Simple enough for your feeble mind and the readers you have who marvel at dime novels and scandal? Huh?"

To be continued

Frank Cotolo 7:24 PM