Somehow stumbled upon Wu-Tang's first album, a record I bought near the end of my high school career maybe? Because I liked their Thelonius Monk piano samples. But the totally ragged rough lyrics, surreal violence and inconsistent pacing threw me off.

Today I'm listening to "Da Mystery Of Chessboxin'" for about the thirty-fifth time. Masta Killa's pronouncements and delivery, last in the song, are just astounding. Consistent and clean and provocative. Expert and inspiring.

Of course, there's Old Dirty Bastard singing wildly between all those young men working to seem tough. And ODB is just crazy - referencing himself as a rap grocery store, throwing his voice scratchy operatic and making you laugh and marvel. I do a search online and find ODB classics like "I want pussy (for free)" - the lament of a man tired of paying child support? It's a song made by someone with permission, probably because he intimidated or inspired someone at the door to the studio, who in turn said fine, let this guy at the microphone, as they buried their laughter and terror into their open hand. The song is just insane, pained wailings of a hungry man with little common social compunction!

I've just scratched the surface - ODB has been prolific in recording and merchandising, under at least two pseudonyms (his latest: "Dirt McGirt" - he'll be recording and releasing clothes under that name. I'm way behind on my pseudonym development!)

Late nights spent in Shibuya on the computer, typing stories, tweaking servers and processing my expenses, I take a break to explore Ol' Dirty Bastard's biography. Here's a man who has been attacked and challenged and lauded and incarcerated. Shifting identities, exploding with creativity and vulgarity. Out of sorts, ahead of fashion, amidst conspiracy, celebrity and crack cocaine. Frankly astonishing behavior! Admiring his biography from an efficiency hotel in Tokyo, it seems like the life of an artiste. But drugs and unhappiness are likely a thick part of his doings. How does a man who sings songs demanding pussy for free get along with the women in his life?

All this to say that I wonder if I'm working too hard for sobriety and balance, spending nights withdrawn from Tokyo with the zany TV on, processing personal finance and email interviews. I'm progressing towards a very comfortable lifetime wicker chair - rickety and thin but solid and comfortable enough if the weather is warm. Just when I get myself situated, isn't that when I should leave? Comfort-zone is a launching pad for upended understanding: recompiling worldview assimilates new information and expands social interface capacity. Will I age into calcified resistence? I don't regret that I'm not out in the cold night looking for company. I know where company is, and when I meet them I don't want to have to worry about my bills.

Controlling the sense of urgency that creates chaos. Wednesday I leave for two weeks in Seoul, Republic of Korea - that will be an upending. New language! Nearby military hostiles! A rental apartment and broadband internet - my retreat, but, still, my link to ODB. (pic courtesy of VH1)