The Poison Pie Publishing House presents:

A Practicum on Divination via Cleromancy
Hebeloma Crustuliniforme
(link to main page of novel)

February

February 1, 2019
Traveler: Antimachus; Companion: Melite; Moon: Crescent

Antimachus walked with a spring in his step, though it cannot be denied that he trod through the Byzantine network of passages, which comprised the minotaur's maze. That he should display an ebullience under such constraints was due to a daydream that had momentarily captured his fancy. The mines possessed hazards beyond that of the minotaur, no less deadly for being stripped of animate malevolence. Unmarked pits awaited a careless misstep in the dark. If the fall proved insufficient to kill the unfortunate victim, then a slower death of isolated starvation awaited. In other places, timbers, once used to reinforce tunnels, decayed, creating situations where the slightest perturbance, caused perhaps by a passing pedestrian, could trigger the collapse of the ceiling, bringing with it untold tons of rock. There was of course the flooded portion of the labyrinth with its submerged tunnels, should one be foolish enough to venture into those waters. Antimachus imagined his enemy, the minotaur, in a moment of inattention succumbing to one of the traps or, though it defied logic, all of them.

When Melite found him, Antimachus envisioned himself standing at the edge of a deep pit, gloating over his fallen adversary, a leg broken, bellowing in anger and pain. Spear poised, he intended to end the beast's misery with a thrust through its heart. Sharing this vision with Melite, he was surprised when she urged him to stow the spear. "Let the agony of the beast endure," she advised him. "Though it brings no one comfort, it is an end that conforms to the principles of this world."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 1 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 2, 2019
Traveler: Melite; Companion: Periboea; Moon: Crescent

Through-out the world, one finds a spectrum of individuals, who range in their expression of a particular trait from one extreme to another. In the collection of characteristics that becomes the individual, we find a combination of such spectra--from vice to virtue--along axes that span from mercy to cruelty, courage to cowardice, curiosity to indifference. In this complicated recipe, it is easy to define the limits of a particular ingredient beyond which the end result is unappetizing. Just as someone may declare a soup to be too salty or too sweet, another may regard an acquaintance as too impatient or too intolerant. The limits of acceptable taste, of course, vary from one person to the next and shift with the extent of their hunger.

Young in years though she was, Melite had already reached this conclusion. The practical impact of this realization lay in how she chose to react, once she appreciated that the world possessed many people who assembled combinations of traits that she personally found unpalatable. One could not simply ignore them all or push them all away. The consequences became more dramatic when she was confined to a mine with but thirteen companions and a nebulous beast.

So, when Melite discovered Periboea the brave in the clutches of fear, she did not remonstrate with her for her lack of constancy. Rather, she embraced her friend and offered what solace she could. Silently, Melite acknowledged that, often, the mixture of traits that a person assembles to describe themselves are not their own ideal combination or are present in unintended proportions or fluctuate unreliably in time simply because each body is but one element in a vast, dynamic, chaotic system, governed by rules that have no regard for the ability of an individual to realize the best version of herself.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 2 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 3, 2019
Traveler: Periboea; Companion: Hippophorbas; Moon: Crescent

Periboea was searching for spare timbers, which had not suffered too great a loss of structural integrity during their extended exposure to the damp conditions of the mine. Although she lacked tools, she envisioned a plan in which she was able to split the beams into narrow shafts and fashion spikes that could be lodged upright at the bottom of a pit. Into this lethal trap, they would then lure the beast or, at the very least, occupy some time attempting to do so. Much work lay between the present and the future moment of triumph, but for now Periboea continued to scan shadowed chambers for abandoned wood.

While she was engaged in this task, the youth, Hippophorbas, came upon her. Because he seemed to be wandering aimlessly, Periboea invited him to join her in her task. "Have you found any wood lying around?"

"Do you mean beams that are not currently braced to keep the roof from crashing down upon our heads?"

"Preferably," Periboea agreed, already regretting her invitation. She had found an encouraging purpose in her work, but she knew it to be a long shot and did not relish the idea of her tenuous commitment to the plan being tested by an unsympathetic antagonist.

Oblivious to her concerns, Hippophorbas began to enumerate a number of obstacles, some trivial and others rather insurmountable, that would prevent Periboea from accomplishing her task. When he eventually finished expressing his objections, he crossed his arms as if expecting commendation for saving her from weeks of useless labor. He found her abrupt departure with no more than a curt "goodbye" ungrateful. He erroneously supposed that, when she failed at her task, she would come to see that he had been right all along.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 3 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 4, 2019
Traveler: Hippophorbas; Companion: Melanippe; Moon: Crescent

Virtually every person, even those who engage in labors more productive than sitting around and thinking as a way of life, have formed an opinion--whether they choose to voice it or not--regarding the principle of general causality. Some adhere to the maxim, "Everything happens for a reason," while others have reached the conclusion that many events transpire only in response to the brute, physical forces of an admittedly complex universe. Hippophorbas had always counted himself among the latter, considering those, who attributed fortune and misfortune to divine intervention, to be practicing a kind of usually well-meaning apophenia. However, since his arrival in the mine, Hippophorbas had begun to re-evaluate his position on the matter. Perhaps, there was something to be gained in searching for reasons and justifying events, even if the explanations created as a result were the products of fiction. Literature is filled with fiction and has attracted numerous aficionados, who find in it entertainment and comfort. Why should life be any different?

Hippophorbas encountered Melanippe hard at work on her map, scratching a symbol on the wall of a tunnel. He asked her, "Melanippe, why do you think we ended up in this mine?"

She paused to cast an exasperated look at he who had interrupted her. "We are here, Hippophorbas," she answered, "because men in power deemed the ending of our lives to be profitable to their self-interests." Perceiving that this was not the answer he sought, she added definitively, "There is no more to it."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 4 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 5, 2019
Traveler: Melanippe; Companion: Idas; Moon: Crescent

Melanippe continued in her task to map the labyrinth, although being unsure of its extent, she had no guarantee that the completion of her work was possible. Some days, when her careful investigations uncovered a previously unknown shaft leading to an unanticipated wing of the labyrinth, she succumbed to doubts that the maze might very well extend endlessly into the Earth.

It did not help that the others could not be relied upon to see the value in her task. Such a moment arose when Idas pointedly wondered aloud, "Melanippe, take a moment's rest. There is no cause to hurry so. The labyrinth isn't going anywhere." Idas paused at his own words then added, "Unless the minotaur thwarts you. Perhaps the beast doesn't want the labyrinth mapped, lest it lose its ability to confuse those trapped within." His eyes darted into the shadows beyond Melanippe. "Perhaps the monster trails behind you, defacing your inscriptions." Turning his head, Idas looked down the other direction of the tunnel. "Or, perhaps the minotaur lurks before you, opening or concealing passages as it desires in order that your depiction of the maze corresponds only to what it wishes you to know."

Melanippe allowed a pensive frown to convey to Idas that she did not find his words helpful. Each of us must set before us a task and imbue it with meaning. That others should not find a particular path as worthwhile as the one who has chosen it can be, at times, annoying. On the other hand, in the best light, it can be considered a blessing since the disinterest of others grants one the freedom to make their own mark in the world.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 5 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 6, 2019
Traveler: Eurymedusa; Companion: Demoleon; Moon: Crescent

Eurymedusa swam in the chill waters to exercise her body and rejuvenate her mind. By now she was confident that the minotaur had learned of her stationary location but the beast had not made its presence known. The others trapped within the labyrinth also knew where she could be found. It was, of course, difficult to navigate reliably through the maze. No one could pay Eurymedusa regular visits because no one could dependably retrace their steps. Still, when chance delivered them to the stone bank of the lake, they greeted Eurymedusa, calling out to her across the water. Few dared brave the cold depths.

When she heard Demoleon splashing in the water, Eurymedusa approached until she espied that he stood securely on the bed of the lake; the splashing had not arisen in the panic of drowning but had rather been an intentional signal to summon her. Something in the youth's behavior triggered caution in Eurymedusa and she maintained a discreet distance, while she inquired as to what had drawn him into her waters. Demoleon claimed that he wanted to learn how to swim, in order to better elude the minotaur.

Eurymedusa described the movements of the arms and legs and the proper breathing technique for a simple stroke. She demonstrated it well within his view. He invited her to swim closer so that he might observe her motions more clearly. The presentiment of ill intent seemed to cling to the water's surface. She did not oblige him, offering only half-truths such as, "Swimmers must keep their distance lest they impede each other's progress with errant strokes."

Nothing untoward happened that day in the unlit, subterranean lake, but it cannot be determined, even in hindsight, whether the absence of offense resulted from the wariness of Eurymedusa or the ambivalence of her visitor.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - Secret Black Box, disc 6 (aRCHIVE Records, aRCHIVE 1-6, 2003, United States, cdx6+box, discogs.com)

February 7, 2019
Traveler: Demoleon; Companion: Europe; Moon: Crescent

Encouraged by an abundance of solitude and darkness, Demoleon entertained the notion that the labyrinth could be interpreted as a challenge intended to provoke virtuous responses from those who wandered its corridors. Without the continuous struggle to find his bearings provided by the labyrinth, he might surrender, gradually, to indolence and other deteriorations of the spirit. He attempted to convince himself that, as a result, the maze was a blessing.

Of course, this fantasy of optimism could not be impeccably sustained. In moments of weakness, Demoleon plunged into despair, seeking solace in the pursuit of vices he ordinarily professed to eschew. Like many, he sought support from the community to reinforce his willpower. Perforce, the thirteen others imprisoned within the maze constituted his support network.

He found Europe paused at an intersection in which a relatively level tunnel was intersected by a steeply sloping shaft. Europe seemed to be contemplating her options: proceeding forward, turning into the shaft to either ascend or descend, or reversing course to return the way she had come.

Demoleon greeted her, sharing with her his rather convoluted idea that the labyrinth could be construed as a spiritual boon. On this day, he did not receive the positive support that he had hoped to find, for Europe, who could not convince herself to believe in the existence of the minotaur, was far less inclined to imagine that the tortuous passages of the maze could lead them anywhere, much less to better versions of themselves.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha 1981 - unreleased live recording (March 2, 2018, Club Goodman, Akihabara, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 8, 2019
Traveler: Europe; Companion: Porphyrion; Moon: Crescent

"Because the minotaur does not exist," Europe explained patiently to Porphyrion, "we should not conduct ourselves as a people motivated by fear." She paused long enough to let Porphyrion register his agreement. When he failed to do so, she continued. "Rather, we should align our way of living with more carefully chosen principles, which reflect who we are and who we wish to become."

Porphyrion eventually nodded in assent, although it was a perfunctory gesture, the sort of half-hearted agreement he might give to a friend on the opposite side of the political spectrum, with whom there could be no consensus but with whom he wanted to maintain a cordial relationship. By Porphyrion's way of thinking, of course there was a minotaur. They stood in the midst of a labyrinth known through-out the region and many lands beyond for the bestial menace that lurked within it. Still, Porphyrion made no rebuttal to Europe, for the sentiments she espoused were noble. He had no desire to oppose her lofty principles. It saddened him that much in the world that was evil had its roots in a harsh reality while that which was most honorable was moored to fantasy. He hesitated for a moment then unthinkingly asked aloud, "Would it be any better the other way around?"

Europe naturally thought he voiced this question in response to her declaration. "A shrewd question," she agreed. "Sometimes I think it might be preferable if the minotaur did exist, for then we would have a mutual enemy, unambiguous in its malignancy, against which we could rally in common cause."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Tamio Shiraishi - The Beginnings of Fushitsusha, unreleased live recording (July 6, 2018, Roppongi Super Deluxe, Nishi-Azaba, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

February 9, 2019
Traveler: Porphyrion; Companion: Menestheus; Moon: Crescent

Porphyrion discovered a small gap revealed by a cave-in. Initially, the opening was barely large enough to put his arm through, but the earth was soft and the rock loose. In short time, he managed to widen the gap to allow his passage. This tunnel led him to an undiscovered chamber of extravagantly ornate crystals, projecting in spiny white beams from virtually every exposed surface of the ceiling, wall and floor. Although the processes responsible for the creation of the magnificent architecture could claim no agent greater than geological chemistry, Porphyrion immediately recognized it as a temple, a holy place in which one moved with extreme reverence so as not to damage in a careless moment that which had taken eons to form. Transfixed by this manifestation of meticulous beauty, he prayed to the unthinking gods of geochemistry that he and his thirteen companions might find salvation from the labyrinth. He beseeched the same powers to grant the minotaur what relief its limited sentience could accommodate, so that the beast might know peace and, in doing so, spare his companions from its predation.

Not soon after, Menestheus followed the trail left by Porphyrion to the crystal temple. He found Porphyrion's attitude unmistakable. "To whom are you praying?" Menestheus asked.

"The gods who crafted this crystal temple, of course." He added, "Be careful."

Menestheus nodded. "And for what do you entreat them?"

Porphyrion flashed a wan smile, captured in countless faceted reflections of the surrounding crystal. "Only for that which is within their power to grant: the formation of a world in which each brittle individual is allowed the time and space to develop along their unique axis in a manner that best contributes to the whole."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-4 (May 3, 2018, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 10, 2019
Traveler: Menestheus; Companion: Andromache; Moon: Crescent

The savagery of the world was apparent to the eyes and heart of Menestheus, the gentle. He knew very well that his end would be as quick as that of a child, if he were tested by violence. Of the various approaches to surviving, which he had contemplated, he had, for the time being, settled on a combination of avoidance and reason. If pressed, he would have conceded that such modest defenses would prove ineffective against the brutality of the minotaur, yet no one had forced him to this admission, primarily because he was a gentle soul and his vulnerability was obvious without the necessity of being stated aloud.

Andromache played him a song in which the languid melody of her flute was disrupted by a second dissonant theme, emerging roughly at several points in the piece. For one who spoke through her music, she thought the message unavoidable. She concluded her song and sat cross-legged on the stone floor beside Menestheus. When he did not respond, Andromache supposed that he was being intentionally obtuse, which was of course the right of everyone trapped in the labyrinth, though it tended to diminish the benefits of companionship.

Andromache was not particularly in the mood to be ignored. She asked, "Menestheus, what will you do if come face to face with the minotaur?"

What could he say but "I shall perish" since there was no other likely alternative? To the surprise of both, he instead replied, "I shall maintain those principles, which have sustained me, unto the end."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-6 (May 3, 2018, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 11, 2019
Traveler: Andromache; Companion: Amphidocus; Moon: Crescent

Andromache took pleasure in singing in the underground chambers. She crafted the tempo of the song so that the successive echoes of her voice formed a chorus that occupied the moments when she breathed. Thus a continuous undulation of sound emerged, well-suited to the gloomy environs. So it is with some people, who find comfort in the embrace of melancholia, although others, possessed of a different disposition, might have been inclined to describe the display as maudlin.

Amphidocus, like all those who wandered through the labyrinth, was not immune to the damp air, narrow halls, and endless shadows. Although he strove to conduct himself in one way, he could not deny that, all too often, he behaved in quite another, one that did him little credit and of which he could rightly be ashamed. Still, he had to move forward, garbed in this mixed assemblage of ideals and faults.

Drawn by the ethereal choir, Amphidocus waited until the song concluded and the last echoes died away. He then asked Andromache, "What is the name of that song?" by which he meant "Why do you sing such a sullen song?"

Bound by the same constraints as her visitor, Andromache intuited his meaning. The song had many names, depending upon who sang it and for what purpose. From the myriad of titles, Andromache selected one, suited for this moment. "This song is called, 'A Spell to Recognize the Advantages and Disadvantages of Darkness'."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 7-9 (May 3, 2018, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 12, 2019
Traveler: Amphidocus; Companion: Eurymedusa; Moon: Crescent

Amphidocus poked a toe in the waters of the subterranean lake. Shocked by the chill, he immediately withdrew it and stepped back. He wondered to himself how Eurymedusa was able to maintain the warmth a body required while submerged in a pool of this temperature. He reclined on the stone bank, positioning himself so that his head rested on his arm. He shifted when the ache of the stone penetrated a hip or shoulder.

Eventually Eurymedusa took notice of him, approaching the shore, though not leaving the water, nor exposing more than her head and neck. "Amphidocus," she said, "it is you."

"No one else," he agreed. Relaxing beside the placid lake, Amphidocus had been lulled into a mood open to friendly banter. Yet, he could not quell the impulse to ask the swimmer, "What purpose can you pursue, confined as you are to these dark waters?" This question of existential meaning was, under ordinary circumstances, not appropriate for idle chats, but, so commonly was it voiced by Amphidocus, it seemed not at all out of place to Eurymedusa.

"In the halls of stone through which you wander, you seek nooks and niches which closely conform to your shape so that you might be lost in shadow when the minotaur passes."

Amphidocus nodded; this much was true.

"These waters are decidedly superior in that regard. They conform to the contours of my body, no matter what posture I adopt." She spoke effortlessly as she maintained her balance in the water. "Therefore, I spend my time not in the pursuit of sanctuary but rather in the development of that framework, which shall contain a narrative of my life and which, only at the end, shall reveal the answer to the riddle I posed."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 10-13 (May 3, 2018, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 13, 2019
Traveler: Hesione; Companion: Amphidocus; Moon: Crescent

"Little brother," said Hesione in greeting when her path crossed with that of Amphidocus.

He smiled, if somewhat forlornly; it was admittedly difficult to invariably maintain high spirits when he was unable to get his bearings within the twisting passages of the labyrinth and the fear of the predator, dwelling within, preyed always on his peace of mind. "I'm not your little brother," he said, somewhat peevishly. "Why do always call me that?"

Hesione accepted that the answer to that question, which she had prepared for herself, would not satisfy Amphidocus. For him, she produced another answer. "If you like, I will have two names for you, one that I call you when you are beside me and one by which I think of you in your absence. One of the names must be 'little brother'. You can pick the other and you can also choose which term I keep to myself."

It was hard for Amphidocus to resist the temptation to think of Hesione's choice as a magnanimous offer. He thought of his real self trapped within the labyrinth and his imagined self residing in Hesione's memory. Which version was more in need of her tenderness? After some thought, he told Hesione to just call him 'Amphidocus' when they met in the mines. It seemed to him that a kindness such as hers could not be sustained in this reality. It had a better chance to flourish in the more hospitable realm of her remembrances.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-6 (July 22, 2017, Zebulon Café, Los Angeles, California, United States, digital files)

February 14, 2019
Traveler: Antimachus; Companion: Eurymedusa; Moon: Crescent

Disoriented by the irregular angles of the corners and the uneven grade of the floor from which the labyrinth was composed, Antimachus arrived unexpectedly at the water's edge. After he had confirmed that the minotaur did not, at that moment, kneel beside the lake to slake its thirst, Antimachus called out, "Eurymedusa, are you there?"

Eurymedusa lay in the cold damp, on the narrow shelf isolated from all other portions of the labyrinth by the broad expanse of the lake. From this sanctuary, she heard the call of Antimachus. She slipped into the water and swam the breadth of the gap. Pulling up shy of the stone bank, she answered, "I am here."

Once Antimachus realized that his query had drawn her into the water and caused her no small exertion in reaching him, he apologized and admitted that he had nothing more to say.

"Your visit is pleasant enough all by itself," Eurymedusa replied graciously.

"One day," Antimachus promised, "I shall bring you a mighty gift."

"It is not necessary."

"I shall race here with the minotaur hot on my heels!"

The concept of the minotaur as a gift was new to Eurymedusa.

"I shall lure it into the water," Antimachus continued with great enthusiasm. "There, by my general flailing, I shall distract it while you, expert swimmer that you are, silently steal up behind it. From that hidden vantage, you shall pierce its heart with your mighty trident!" Antimachus was completely carried away by his imagination; his voice ended in a triumphant shout. "Isn't it so?"

"Of course, of course," Eurymedusa lied. She found it unnecessary to reveal that the only trident, or weapon of any mortal variety, which she might possess, was locked safely in the vault of Antimachus' imagination.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 7-9 (July 22, 2017, Zebulon Café, Los Angeles, California, United States, digital files)

February 15, 2019
Traveler: Melite; Companion: Demoleon; Moon: Crescent

Melite understood that each individual drew purpose from adhering to a role within a larger narrative, which provided a context for their actions. Some took an active hand in defining their role. For example, in the case of the youth driven to escape the poverty of his birth, he might argue that it was through his hard work and perseverance that he was able to succeed in this role. At the same, one must accept that the unthinking circumstances of his birth served as a factor, at least as significant, in creating the narrative. At the same time, those who were systemically less able to exert control over their destiny--slaves, prostitutes, and other vulnerable elements of society--also developed an outlook within the framework of a larger story, in which they were able to give meaning to their suffering. Even brutes, who unquestioningly adopted the role as a merciless enforcer of another's will, justified their actions with a narrative that depicted their current state as a natural, inevitable outcome of the events which proceeded it.

In the labyrinth, creative convolutions of thought were required to produce explanations for meaningful wandering. Melite hid from Demoleon, who experimented with the role of pendulum, swinging inexorably between virtue and turpitude. She avoided revealing herself to him because she had not yet conceived of a convincing plot twist, which, when he was presented with a decisive fork in his path, would encourage him, in his uncertainty, to thereafter err on the side of virtue.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 10-14 (July 22, 2017, Zebulon Café, Los Angeles, California, United States, digital files)

February 16, 2019
Traveler: Periboea; Companion: Europe; Moon: Crescent

"In this world of traps," Periboea explained to Europe, "it should not surprise anyone that we should seek to trap the minotaur."

"Except," Europe reminded the other girl, "that the minotaur doesn't exist."

"I shall construct a perfect trap," Periboea persisted, "capable of overcoming such ambiguity. This stratagem shall suffice to capture monsters of the mind and of the flesh, as well as those who adopt aspects of both."

Europe stood where Periboea had found her, before a rough, stone wall coated by a film of slime. It was said that apothecaries ventured into caves of the region (though certainly none dared brave the minotaur's labyrinth) in search of stores for their trade. Europe shared the story of one old woman who had emerged with similar mucus-like material from a grotto. She had incorporated it in a philter for a nobleman suffering from ague. Her patient, rather than having his fever reduced, had been transported in mind to a distant site, where various wonders not of the world had been revealed to him. He shared these visions in fevered ramblings. The patient expired only after insisting to an unseen interlocutor that, having been exposed to the fantastic majesty of the beyond, he had no desire to return to the drab and mundane world of his birth.

Periboea contemplated sampling some of the slime, for surely a substance such as this could aid her in her quest to gain the insight necessary to devise a trap, capable of subduing demons of inscrutable origin.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, track 1 (May 3, 2017, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 17, 2019
Traveler: Hippophorbas; Companion: Porphyrion; Moon: Crescent

Hippophorbas strode without purpose through the shafts of the mine. He dragged his fingers along the rough walls, hewn by pickaxe and muscle. He seemed not in the spirit to reject the reality of what his senses placed before him. He dwelt in the labyrinth. His direction was dictated not so much by his own forward progress but by the turns that the maze forced him to take. It took an act of will to superimpose upon the labyrinth a separate map by which he could perceive his origin and destination.

His interest in the map was genuine. At the same time, Hippophorbas drew strength from a meek nature. He had little desire to impose his will upon the maze, much less upon the others who dwelt within it. Not a single crooked passage would be straightened by his hand.

He came upon Porphyrion, seated upon a rock, silently sobbing in the darkness. Hippophorbas was not immune to this demonstration of the desolation to which the labyrinth could drive a man. This world, intentionally or not, had been granted formidable powers of influence over the living. What straightening that could be done, at least by Hippophorbas, lay in the hearts of men.

He sat beside Porphyrion and, together, they spoke of days gone by, their yearning for distant family, and past follies, once sources of deep embarrassment and now humorous, self-deprecating anecdotes. In this manner, ushered by soft laughter, the juxtaposition of the insentient labyrinth, which brooked no survey, and the mortal map came better into focus.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 2-6 (May 3, 2017, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 18, 2019
Traveler: Melanippe; Companion: Menestheus; Moon: Crescent

Melanippe sought to map the labyrinth because she believed that people would be able to more readily live with dignity, if they had a clearer idea of the path upon which they traveled. Her logic required a causal relationship between individual purpose and communal virtue, which was not universally acknowledged.

Encountering Menestheus in a narrow shaft, she explained as each turned sideways to slip past the other, "In the featureless expanse of the open sea, mariners get their bearings at night from the position of the stars."

"Here in the labyrinth we have only unyielding stone above our heads," Menestheus needlessly reminded her.

"But we have features in the shape of the chambers, in the spacing of a pair of columns, and in an unexploited vein of copper. If we catalog the location of every trait with respect to the others, we shall be able to methodically navigate the maze."

"When your labor is completed," said Menestheus, "what will you have accomplished save that we may predictably move from nowhere to nowhere else by one route and then return by another?"

By this time, Melanippe and Menestheus had managed to pass each other in the mine shaft. As they parted ways, Melanippe imagined a possibility that the existence of a map could imbue the various locations that Menestheus labeled "nowhere" with more appealing titles, transforming them into destinations, which one might desire to visit.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 7-10 (May 3, 2017, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 19, 2019
Traveler: Idas; Companion: Andromache; Moon: Crescent

Idas, the curious, was engaged in what we must regard as an eminently foolhardy endeavor. In order to put a particular question to the minotaur, he had begun to track the beast. The stone floor of the mine was unyielding but in gravel and dust Idas was able to make out the passage of a creature. He possessed no training as hunter, so the age of the imprints was unknown to him. Since the beast had long stalked the labyrinth, what signs he found were at best ambiguous. Therefore, we should not express great surprise when the first quarry Idas tracked down turned out to be none other than the petite flautist, Andromache.

Idas straightened up and lifted his gaze from the trail to the maiden. "You are not the beast," he declared.

"Indeed, I am not," Andromache agreed. "But I can play you a pretty song, if you are inclined to listen."

Idas had no time for songs, or so he thought. "I am hot on the trail of the minotaur," he explained.

"To what end?"

"I intend to ask him a question."

Andromache waited for Idas to reveal the question, so important that he risked his life to obtain the answer. When it appeared that he might instead resume his search without further conversation, she was forced to ask, "What question?"

"The only question," Andromache replied impatiently. "Why?"

"Perhaps," Andromache suggested to the receding figure, "You should ask that same question of yourself first." Here, it is helpful to recall that Andromache nursed the suspicion that something of the minotaur lurked within every man.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 11-16 (May 3, 2017, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 20, 2019
Traveler: Demoleon; Companion: Idas; Moon: Crescent

Confined within a mortal life, it is not instinctive for the individual to step back from the concerns of the body and focus instead on the nebulous concept of the common good, often at one's own expense. For many, excepting a certain category of devoted mothers, selflessness requires conscious resolve. Worse yet, we understand that public authorities routinely and intentionally manipulate the perception of the common good in order to further their own private interests. The suspicion that an exercise in virtue may actually serve a less benevolent, perhaps nefarious, goal can paralyze the noblest intention. Along these circuitous paths wandered the thoughts of Demoleon as his feet trod stone paths through the labyrinth.

"One response to this dilemma," said Demoleon to Idas, "is to err on the side of virtue, regardless of the unintended side-effects."

The curiosity of Idas was dulled on this day; he did not probe Demoleon's statement further. He shrugged. "Does the hammer ask the nail of its purpose before it strikes? Whether the boards so joined form the rafter of a roof or the scaffold of a gibbet is all the same to the hammer."

"Is it better for the hammer to lay idle on the workman's bench?"

"One thing cannot be said to be better than another," said Idas.

Demoleon contemplated Idas' words. A reply came to him only long after Idas had departed. "That is not entirely true. On rainy days, a roof is decidedly better for keeping one dry than is a gibbet."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (March 28, 2016, Koenji High, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 21, 2019
Traveler: Europe; Companion: Hesione; Moon: Crescent

Europe considered it to be a small step from her steady disbelief in the existence of the minotaur to the proposition that much of what she had been taught was steeped in cultural tradition rather than empirical fact. She had wandered for some time now unharmed through the darkness of the labyrinth. Occasionally, she did discover bones or impressions in the gravel resembling hoof prints, which could be construed as evidence of the presence of a beast within the mine. Alternatively, such signs could also be attributed to the remains of long lost miners or the residual tracks of mules hauling ore from the depths, when the mine still yielded treasures in quantities sufficient to garner the interest of merchants. And if the minotaur was but a legend, then what of the sacrificial victims offered to appease its bestial appetite? Were they too not part of the same legend? Because Europe was counted among those victims, was her existence too not impugned by the same myth?

"I am determined to get to the bottom of this," Europe said to Hesione, when they crossed paths.

"Little sister," said Hesione, "though my fondness for you is considerable, I believe in this regard that your beliefs are not only deeply misguided but also unhealthy." Before Europe could counter, Hesione continued, "Therefore, when I last heard the hoarse breaths of the beast echoing in a dark cavern, I hid in shadow. From my hiding place, I whispered aloud the news of your disbelief. I suppose the beast may take it upon itself to convey to you, by its own means, the irrefutable truth upon which its legend is based."

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 4-7 (March 28, 2016, Koenji High, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 22, 2019
Traveler: Porphyrion; Companion: Antimachus; Moon: Crescent

Porphyrion wandered in the tunnels outside the chamber of the crystal temple. There he discovered Antimachus, the daydreamer, moving swiftly down a passage, in an apparent attempt to elude the pursuit of the minotaur.

"Hurry," gasped Antimachus, out of breath. "Come with me."

Porphyrion peered down the tunnel. Of course, given the pervasive darkness, no sign of the beast was evident. "Are you sure that you are being followed?"

Antimachus allowed the possibility that he had evaded the minotaur.

"Perhaps," said Porphyrion, "you should come with me. I have found a crystal temple, hidden beneath the earth." He described to Antimachus the geometric architecture of the cavern, but words failed to convey its majesty. "You will have to see it for yourself. In my temple, you may be able to relax for a moment, regain your breath and find your peace of mind."

Antimachus was momentarily intrigued. "Perhaps I can break off a sharp tip of one of the larger crystals; I could affix the point to the end of a staff. With such a spear, I would pierce the heart of the minotaur!"

Porphyrion had no desire to have the crystalline perfection of his temple defiled for use as raw materials in an imaginary crusade. "I'm not sure about that..." he stammered. Still, he thought that, once Antimachus observed the cave's splendor first hand, all thought of marring it would leave him. "Come with me. See for yourself."

However, Porphyrion's hesitancy caused Antimachus to lose interest. A spurious clatter from far down the tunnel prompted him to sprint away.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 8-13 (March 28, 2016, Koenji High, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 23, 2019
Traveler: Menestheus; Companion: Melite; Moon: Crescent

Menestheus was drawn by a slow but regular pattern of dripping water to a cave, which had previously gone unexplored. In it he found one drop of water beading at the tip of a single stalactite. Periodically, a sufficient mass of water accumulated, causing the pendant droplet to succumb to gravity. It fell and splashed against the tip of a rock formation that was more amorphous mound than proper stalagmite. Upon impact the droplet seemed to be atomized, its only trace a slick surface and damp air.

Menestheus situated himself beside the liquid clock, with the intention of slowing his breathing to the same frequency as that set by the droplets, as a way of meditation. It is not ordinarily possible for a human being to breathe but three or four breaths per minute. However, as a boy, Menestheus had tended to his grandfather on his deathbed. In the last night of a drawn-out vigil, his grandfather's breathing had gradually slowed to five breaths per minute, then four, then three, then two, then one, then none. So, Menestheus knew that it was possible to sustain oneself for many hours breathing only sparingly.

Attracted by the same sound, Melite came upon Menestheus, some time into his exercise. "What are you doing?" she asked him.

Menestheus explained to her his actions and their purpose. When Melite expressed her doubt that such a thing could be done, Menestheus related the precedent set by his grandfather.

Melite, ordinarily prone to understanding, found herself unmoved. "What good is it to meditate unto death?"

Menestheus allowed the dropping of the water to provide his answer. Of course, the contemplation of death by the living served, by way of contrast, as an encouraging reminder of the oft-overlooked attractions of life.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-5 (May 3, 2015, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 24, 2019
Traveler: Andromache; Companion: Periboea; Moon: Crescent

Andromache stumbled upon the remains of a miners' camp, tucked at the end of shaft from which no further ore could be extracted. The site had remained untouched for decades. The former occupants had left behind few signs, but there were half a dozen stones arranged in a circle, as if seats in a council of deliberation. There were other, flat spots swept bare, where the men had once lain. A well-used broom had been abandoned, leaning against the wall, the bristles broken back to the shaft. Beside it a small pile of personal items were stacked carefully in a leather sack. It seemed as if these keepsakes had been left in the mine intentionally, presumably as an offering, from his fellows, to the spirit of one who had died in his labors and never left the mine.

Andromache opened the sack and gently examined a small token of good luck, shaped like a key. She recognized it as symbol of Hades, who ruled the Underworld, of which these mines were but the topmost layer. She found also a pair of worn socks, a small knife and, to her great delight, a pocket flute.

Andromache had been marched into the labyrinth empty-handed. To find now that object which she most desired seems too good a stroke of fortune to be true. She blew tentatively on the primitive instrument and the sound that she called forth seemed as fine as the song of the Athens orchestra.

Her first notes summoned Periboea, who admonished her for making such a racket. "Leave that infernal pipe where you found it, lest you summon the minotaur to a dance from which you shall not emerge!"

Periboea was slightly placated only when Andromache made a gift to her of the miner's knife.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 6-8 (May 3, 2015, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 25, 2019
Traveler: Amphidocus; Companion: Hippophorbas; Moon: Crescent

Something had startled Amphidocus, sending him scurrying through the maze of unlit tunnels until he had thoroughly lost himself and, hopefully, his pursuer as well. Of course, there was no evidence that there had been any pursuit. As the cortisol levels diminished in his system, Amphidocus accepted that it was quite possible that he had over-reacted to the sound of a sliding rock, disturbed from a precarious position by a rat or, perhaps, by one of his fellow youths, likewise confined to the labyrinth. In the hollow left by his evaporating fear, Amphidocus imagined he might feel embarrassed, save that he was alone and there was no one the wiser.

Even upon the arrival of Hippophorbas, Amphidocus felt reluctant to disown his panicked flight. "In the darkness, the mind plays tricks on you," he said.

"It's the response of an animal," Hippophorbas replied, simultaneously explaining the reaction as natural while conveying a disheartening dearth of sympathy.

Amphidocus accepted that humans came from animals and still dwelt, according to the wisdom of biological taxonomists, in the kingdom Animalia. It seemed, not altogether unreasonable, to rely upon what strength he could distill from that ancient heritage. He attempted to say as much to Hippophorbas but must have failed to clearly articulate his meaning, for he received only a rebuke.

"Amphidocus, do not allow some convoluted logic to lead you to overly cherish instinct, for violence too is an automatic response. Have you forgotten that it was the mere thought of the minotaur that sent you running in the first place?"

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 9-11 (May 3, 2015, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 26, 2019
Traveler: Eurymedusa; Companion: Melanippe; Moon: Crescent

Despite the danger, Eurymedusa often swam through submerged tunnels, accessible only by diving beneath the surface of the underground lake. She was exceedingly careful, knowing that any moment of disorientation could result in her death. In time, she began to develop a mental picture of the three-dimensional network of shafts and passages, which composed her watery domain. She discovered secluded chambers, reachable only by swimming. Some caves provided private sanctuaries. In one of these dead-ends, Eurymedusa nearly swooned upon arrival, for the air was bad. She was forced to immediately retrace her path with what breath remained in her lungs. A moment before losing consciousness, she breached the surface of the lake and gulped in air. This close call only temporarily slowed her exploration. The irresistible lure of labyrinth was to search and probe its tangled shape.

Melanippe sought to map the labyrinth in its entirety. She asked Eurymedusa for her aid in representing the submerged portions of the maze.

"The tunnels weave within the stone. They fork then drop to a lower level before doubling back to reconnect at an earlier juncture. How can one capture such disorder in a map?"

"It's no different above water," Melanippe assured her. "Still, it is the task I have chosen and I do not intend to allow the enormity of the labor to defeat me unchallenged."

Eurymedusa made a half-hearted effort to recount the twisting passages but eventually her abstract descriptions earned her a sharp reprimand from Melanippe, who accused her of intentionally hiding her secrets. Such is the nature of the labyrinth, where even two, bound by common purpose, quarrel over their respective plans of attack.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 12-17 (May 3, 2015, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

February 27, 2019
Traveler: Antimachus; Companion: Melanippe; Moon: Crescent

When Antimachus, the daydreamer, encountered Melanippe, the cartographer, he found himself being interrogated for information with which she could fill in the numerous gaps in her rendering of the labyrinth. He answered each question as best he was able, although he found one aspect of the map conspicuously absent.

"Where," he asked Melanippe, "have you marked the spot at which the minotaur meets its doom?"

Melanippe contemplated this question. She understood the meaning of each word individually, but strung together in this sequence they seemed to produce a nonsensical statement. "How can I mark an event, which has not come to pass and which, given the mythical status of the beast, may never to come to pass?"

It was Antimachus' turn to be befuddled. "Is not your map intended to serve as a guide?" he asked incredulously.

"It is."

"What good is a road map that doesn't show the destination?"

Melanippe knew that Antimachus often lost himself in grand exploits that transpired exclusively within his imagination. She therefore corrected his misunderstanding, saying, "This map corresponds to a common consensus of reality."

"Oh," said Antimachus, as Melanippe's intent was made clear. "It's one of those kind of maps." He wandered off into the mine. He could not conceive of a use for a map that failed to capture the imagination.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha/Keiji Haino Trio - unreleased live recording (October 17, 2014, Roppongi Super Deluxe, Nishi-Azaba, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

February 28, 2019
Traveler: Melite; Companion: Idas; Moon: Crescent

Melite retraced her steps with the intention of returning to a hidden niche, where she might find a relatively secure spot to sleep for a few hours. As was typical in the labyrinth, she wound up, despite her careful efforts, in an entirely unfamiliar branch of the maze. There she discovered silver veins streaking through the rock wall. She wondered why the miners, who had once excavated these shafts, had left this prize untouched.

She imagined that there might have been a divine intention. Upon finding an immense bounty, perhaps the miners decided to leave a token of their find, as a grateful offering to the gods of the underworld. If that was the case, then perhaps old gods still dwelt in these passages, despite the befoulment of the minotaur's presence. Melite chose to sleep in the open, beneath the silver streaks, protected by a presence she could but intuit.

She awoke to find Idas resting a few paces from her. His sleeping form was close enough to draw comfort from her proximity but not so near to have threatened her own comfort. She listened to his regular breathing, as she scrutinized the abstract pattern of precious metal in the stone. Like an astrologer connecting the stars in a constellation in order to construct a shape that characterized the divinity who dwelt therein, Melite sought to interpret the natural veins of silver in a meaningful form. Ultimately, she convinced herself that she observed a symbolic representation of mother and child. She whispered this secret to the sleeping Idas, who then dreamt of better days, long past, when the soothing caress of his mother possessed the power to vanquish all worldly ills.

written while listening to:  Fushitsusha - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (November 21, 2013, Roppongi Super Deluxe, Nishi-Azaba, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

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