A Kyuseishu travel log.
Last week during my last day in Japan I spent most of it misty eyed lowly singing the classic Bobby Darin song, “Mack The Knife,” paying my respects at the grave of their national hero, Mitsuhiro Momota. Well actually that was his adoptive name, he was born Kim Sin-rak but you may know him better by his wrestling name Rikidozan; and if you don’t, I suggest you read up on him.
You see Rikidozan was a Korean who came to Japan at a young age and trained to be sumo star; a real rambling man with a purpose unlike that wanderin’ loser Will Beckenhall. Rikidozan quickly climbed the ranks of the sumo system, but always had to protect his Korean background as outsiders could never become the grand champion.
After the Americans dropped the big bombs, the economy went to shit, and so did Rikidozan’s ability to earn. But earners always find a way to earn, it’s a blessing from the heavens few have. Rikidozan decided he wanted to bring pro-wrestling to Japan, and created a new style called Puroresu. Well he wasn’t the first, as others had tried and failed, but he being a winner, much like me, succeed.
It was an easy sell for Dozan, he would bring in the villains from America who just dropped an atomic bomb on their country and he would beat the hell out of them. He would stand tall over defeated evil Americans and in the process his popularity grew. So did his bank account, and influence in and out of the ring. He even won the NWA international heavyweight title from Lou Thez. The guy was a massive star and the first entertainer to make a million dollars in Japan post WW2.
Rikidozan fell to the devil’s indulgences with boozing, women, and a strong relationship with the mafia. He owned nightclubs, ran card games, and bought lot of property. He fought in rings, bars, and bedrooms and always did so with a smile. A real hero to the deviant.
When he was 39 he was hanging out at his nightclub when a junior member of the mafia stepped on the big mans shoes. They got into a wild brawl and Rikidozan was stabbed. Even with the bleeding gash he beat the shit out of the mobster who quickly fled as he was no chance for the wrestling champion. Allegedly Rikidozan than stumbled onto stage and sang, “Mack the Knife” before telling the club what had just happened and who did it.
Later that night, the man who stabbed Rikidozan came by with other members of the mafia to apologize. Riki refused and beat the shit out of Katsushi Murata his stabber. Other mobsters got word of Katsushi’s actions and beat him into a hospital stay of his own. Riki was taken to a hospital when the bleeding wouldn’t stop where he was cleaned up but warned by his doctor not to drink or eat for a few days in order to avoid infection.
Rikidozan didn’t listen, and soon he died. Power unregulated and controlled, is a dangerous force often knocking off ears in its recklessness to be able to listen to what is needed to focus the force. A hammer swung with no destination if you will. That was his weakness and, in my journey, to overtake America I will have no such feebleness.
The nation mourned and his murderer Katsushi Murata went to prison. He served 8 years. Upon release each anniversary of the death of Rikidozan, Murata offered his apologies to the family of the wrestler and paid his respects at his tombstone. You see the Japanese understand respect. Katsuhi Murata became a very high-ranking member of the Yakuza until his death where he was taken to heaven and put in a room to be beaten by Rikidozan for eternity.
His grave site always left me clear headed and able to think. He was a warrior on a mission of nationalistic dominance. He lacked religion and a goal besides his own interest. He never was able to ask WWKD. What would Kyuseishu do.
I was once a national hero before being shammed by a nation overrun by STUPID sinners. Now, like Rikidozan, I have decided to return to my adoptive homeland (heaven is my true home) and take back my throne as the second coming of God, in the one nation under God. I will liberate, seek justice, and destroy all who oppose me. Unlike Dozan I won’t be corrupted by money, sex, or power. I am pure of heart, so those vices are simply tools of the trade that I now can use for the betterment of man.
It’s fitting my return to the ring will be in the state of Alabama. A dingy southern state of low education, and horrible sinister oral hygiene. I mean like people walking around with black teeth and no decency. Actually a place where Ramblin’ Jack Beckenballs should feel right at home in. Recently they voted to outlaw abortions, and this makes my ministry very happy. The only problem is they are the exact people who shouldn’t procreate. A double edged samurai sword of life and legitimacy of soul.
It’s a hard subject to grasp that mortals are incapable of being rational about. I mean who would save the world if I was aborted? On the flip side, I wouldn’t have to waste my inaugural match against some wondering hobo who clearly should have been excommunicated from his mother’s womb. You see God, nor I, care what humans do to other humans. That’s the part missed by the masses. What I DO enjoy is the conflict it creates amongst Americans. The greatest distraction to the advancement of control is dividing the masses over what really doesn’t matter.
I don’t care what a woman does with her body, yet I also understand the value of life, for my brother wasted his to dissolve you of your sins. So much passion built up over something that can’t be harnessed is delightful! Conflict allows violence, which creates fear, which drops people to their knees seeking the comfort of God. Seeking answers from their high hopes in the sky. Hopes like me. It’s a win-win really. Enough about the serious, my gentile reader let us now focus on Buffalo Billy Boxcar.
I mean look, Boxcar Willie is the depressive unfun type. He sinned getting a divorce…really insulting my father the G.O.D. On top of that he failed as a father of his own letting his (should have been aborted) son grow up a bastard, and he’s really failed as a productive member of society leaving this planet dumber for having to sit through that video blog on him.
Hobo Will is a true enemy to purity I intend to bring to CWF. Fear not my sheep I see the rising of cults with the return of darkness here in CWF. I have not lost focus as to what else is happening in the very shadowy world that we play in. Unfortunately, first we need to take the trash out.
I know the Boxcar Willie types who live off money from mommy and daddy pretending to “ROUGH IT OUT” traveling the country while the rest of us work for a living. They smell of patchouli, and body odor, as they waste oxygen praying to the false gods at Burning Man type festivals. These asshole’s smooth talk dim-bulb gals into bed, with some phony half understood philosophy they ripped off from the one book they read in their one semester of college, until they succeed, and get gonorrhea from the molly or MDMA stoned weak minded bimbo they bagged with said nonsense. As a matter of fact, I hope the CWF offices test this hobo for STD’s before getting into the ring with their Kyuseishu, or I may have to sue.
As a courtesy I have sent hobo Billy Beckenhall a blessed tin of Altoids (free of charge), which I hope he indulges in before his smoke stinking breath steps into the ring with his Kyuseishu. I have a lot of work to do in the next few weeks, including winning the Golden Intentions, setting up this samurais crusade. The last thing I need is to suffer through the stench of halitosis while I’m at work beating the hell out of a sinner as a demonstration to the masses of my dominance.
On a side note. it felt good to get in front of an American crowd to remind me how horrible they are. Its also nice to be in a land of corruption where an assault with a golden fork, witnessed on national television, gets dropped after a stabbed cameraman received a new car from his favorite church. Funny how that works. I learned a lot in Japan and Chicago for that matter as corruption is only a matter of perspective. A samurai needs to crucify the weak in order to obtain the eye of the strong. Do I have your attention yet? Honey, I’m home!
1 Timothy 5:13
And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not.