The Poison Pie Publishing House presents:

January 1, 2020
On the autumn evening when Cole arrived at the home of the blue-collar couple who had legally adopted him, a pair of dirty children--brother and sister--dwelling much of the time in a house across the street gave him, by way of a welcoming gift, a used comic book. At the age of four, Cole had picked up the rudiments of reading, as he had made his way along various stops in the state foster care system, some of which contained well-meaning women with an interest in his early education.

His new, ostensibly permanent parents looked on disapprovingly at this welcoming gesture. They had waited more than a few years for the arrival of a child in their marriage and they harbored the usual hope of parents that their son would exceed, in time, their own modest accomplishments. They did not suppose that the path of erudition, which might lead Cole to employment as doctor, attorney or university professor, should begin with comic books, surely the lowest form of literature. It was to be the only book of this kind that Cole would own while he resided in their house.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Ami Yoshida - unreleased live recording, track 1 (January 28, 2006, Penguin House, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

January 2, 2020
Captain Nemo appeared in a poor light to young Cole. By his circumstances, Cole was inclined toward sympathy for a man, who, having lost his parents, wife and children, responded by retreating from the world. Cole, too, had lost his original family, though his memory of these individuals became increasingly unreliable as the length of his separation grew. However, he found little to admire in the captain. A man of great intelligence and wealth, he used his God-given and man-made resources to construct his own world in which he was installed as absolute dictator. "I am the law, and I am the judge," Nemo declared as the sole justification for sending to an ocean grave the crew of a warship that irked him by its presence in the shared sea.

For Cole, who was a stranger to material possessions, Nemo's boastful tour of the library and museum aboard the Nautilus also demonstrated that the captain had not rejected the world nor its principles, but merely had appropriated authority to concentrate its treasures for himself. What point was there in constructing a new world, only to retain the worst excesses of the old?

This is what Cole asked himself as he began a new life. There were three criteria by which the state Department of Child Services could remove a minor from his biological parents: abuse, neglect or exploitation. Cole found no guidance in Captain Nemo for discovering a source of strength to rise above the violence and loss, which he had thus far sustained.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Keisuke Ohta - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-4 (January 28, 2006, In F, Oizumi Gakuen, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 3, 2020
The cover of the graphic adaptation of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea published by Marvel Comics in April, 1976 featured a monstrous squid attacking the Nautilus. Three men had emerged from the circular hatch on the top of the submarine. They defended their vessel against the crushing grasp of the beast with two axes and a rifle. One man, axe in hand, was held aloft, wrapped in a sinuous tentacle.

In the text of the book, the creature was misidentified as an octopus, but it was clear to Cole, while no scholar on cephalopods, that the animal portrayed on the cover was a squid. Most obviously, nine appendages were visible in the artist's rendering. According to the anatomical vocabulary of marine biologists, an octopus possessed only eight arms while a squid had a total of ten appendages--eight arms and two longer tentacles.

The animal was colossal; out-stretched it would have exceeded the length of the ship it attacked. Even more arresting than its incredible size, however, was its coloration. The skin of the squid was printed in a vivid reddish-orange with bluish-white suckers on the underside. The eyes of the beast were portrayed with immense yellow irises and black pupils. To say this fearsome depiction of the giant squid, as it preyed on the crew of Nemo's ship, made a lasting impression on Cole is something of an understatement. In fact, the squid, having arrived in the house on the same day as Cole, also took up residency at that address.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Keisuke Ohta - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-7 (January 28, 2006, In F, Oizumi Gakuen, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 4, 2020
Upon his arrival, Cole's new parents gave him a tour of the house. The living room had a color television set in front of the couch. The kitchen was filled with metal appliances--a range and oven, a refrigerator and freezer, a dishwasher. As if something could be missing from this abundance, his mother explained that his father intended to purchase a new kind of appliance, a microwave oven, when the prices came down. Cole had never heard of a microwave oven and his father spent a good portion of the tour extolling its technological virtues. The tour ended at his bedroom. It took the form of a square, with drywall painted sky blue and oak floors. A twin bed was placed parallel to one wall. Centered in the far wall, an overgrown shrub occupied the lower half of the exterior view of a window. Across from the bed there was a dresser for his clothes placed beside a closet door. Now that they had seen just how tall he was, his mother promised to take him shopping tomorrow. Cole had never had a room of his own before. He had once overheard a girl claim to have a private bedroom but he had thought it a preposterous lie. He looked silently at his parents and had the good sense to say nothing. Now he was to live the same preposterous lie.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, track 1 (February 12, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)

January 5, 2020
Having never had a room to himself, it was not until the first night in the house of his adoptive parents that Cole discovered the depth of his terror of the dark. A streetlamp stood several houses down the block so the darkness in his bedroom was not complete. However, he found no consolation in the layering of faint shadows over deeper darkness. Each passing automobile caused a temporary projection of the nine panes of glass in the upper half of the window to slide across the room's walls and ceiling. This transient light also brought Cole little relief.

He tried various techniques to reassure himself. Creating various ridges in the blanket over the full expanse of the bed, he pushed himself down into the mattress so that the outline of his form could not be clearly discerned. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, hoping to be mistaken for an amorphous lump of bed linens, but proved unable to convince himself that his camouflage would fool anyone. In order to escape the dread of that room, Cole's only recourse was to squeeze his eyes closed as tightly as possible and imagine that he was somewhere else or that he did not exist at all.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, tracks 2-4 (February 12, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)

January 6, 2020
Cole lay with his eyes closed on his back in the bed. Suddenly, he became keenly aware that he was no longer alone in the room. The door had been shut and he had not heard it swing open. In Cole's experience the hinges of all doors creaked, so that adults could detect the surreptitious movements of their wards. Therefore, the intruder must have entered another way. It could not have been patiently waiting to ambush him from the closet, because that door too had been shut. Cole attempted to regulate his breathing to make it appear as if he remained ignorant of the presence. Nor could the window have been used as a means of entrance; opening it would have caused a greater clamor than the door. The only remaining plausible explanation was that, whatever manner of creature had invaded his room, it possessed the ability to become incorporeal and pass soundlessly through walls.

Although he refused to open his eyes, Cole could no longer pretend that his heart wasn't racing nor his breathing accelerated. He heard a shuffling as the creature approached the edge of his bed. With a supreme force of will, he opened an eye to discover his new mother standing beside the bed. Seemingly unaware of his state of panic, she issued reassuring words and departed, closing the door silently behind her.

In the morning, Cole began a campaign of furtively applying water to the hinges of the bedroom door so that they would rust and better serve as a warning system.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, track 5 (February 12, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)

January 7, 2020
Before his arrival at this house, Cole had been the recipient of a stern lecture by an official from the Department of Child Services. The sermon had begun, innocently enough, with an acknowledgment of his good fortune. "You don't know how lucky you are!" he was told several times. "I know dozens of kids who would just die to be part of this family." The talk ended, however, on a more ominous note, as Cole was warned to make this situation work. "Don't screw it up."

The boy took this admonition to heart. He said not a word to either of his new parents regarding the fright, which his mother had put him through when she stole into his room and stood over him as he lay supine on the bed. Nor did he speak of his paralyzing fear of the dark. Much in his life might have been different had he been exposed to a teaching in The Analects of Confucius, which advocated a fundamentally different approach.

The Master said, "Do you think, my disciples, that I have any concealments? I conceal nothing from you. There is nothing which I do that is not shown to you, my disciples; that is my way...I am fortunate! If I have any errors, people are sure to know them." ^*

Unfortunately, Cole did not have recourse to this reservoir of wisdom. Consequently, his path forward was dominated by efforts to hide not only his weaknesses but also other defining traits from his parents and from the rest of the world.

^*Confucius (551-479 BC), The Analects, Book II, Ch. 7, translated by James Legge.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Ikuro Takahashi & Masayoshi Urabe - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-2 (April 27, 2006, Super Deluxe, Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 8, 2020
Cole did not possess a physical appearance that could be considered appealing. His arms and legs were too skinny to be regarded as healthy. His hair, an unremarkable shade somewhere between dark brown and black, was best described as a haphazard gathering of cowlicks. Least agreeable was his face, which bore a perpetual expression of mistrust. Encountering him instilled teachers at the preschool with a sense of unease. He seemed always to be placed in a back corner of the classroom, where his presence could disturb the instructor as little as possible. Such is life for children deemed to have an ill-favored look.

To be sure, Cole's attitude was influenced by his treatment and his history. Surely, no child by nature alone comes to this lamentable end so early in his life. He said little, thus earning him an undue reputation for being aloof. Ostracized by the other children in the neighborhood and at school, his character developed commensurately in hours of solitude.

His parents encouraged him to socialize. His mother, who soon after his arrival returned to work, initially arranged play-dates on weekends. His failure to engage was met with gentle encouragement. Despite the mildness of the reproval, Cole felt intensely the judgment of his parents. It became a certainty in his mind that they regretted having adopted him rather than another, more affable child.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Ikuro Takahashi & Masayoshi Urabe - unreleased live recording, tracks 3-4 (April 27, 2006, Super Deluxe, Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 9, 2020
A few nights later, an intruder again entered the bedroom as Cole attempted to fall asleep. His eyes were tightly closed but he could sense its presence, though no sounds had betrayed its entry. Cole chided himself for his fear, because he supposed that it was his new mother, checking up on him as she had before. He forced an eye to open, barely more than a slit.

A squid hovered in the room. It possessed precisely the same bright reddish-orange coloration as the squid on the cover of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. In other respects, it appeared quite different from the nemesis of the Nautilus. This specimen maintained a vertical orientation and stretched from the tip of its pointed dome to the ends of its tentacles less than eight feet, for it managed to hover a few inches above the wooden floor without touching the ceiling. It moved very slowly and seemed capable of only three distinct motions. Its body could shift its position laterally across the room, it could rotate about its central, vertical axis, and its arms and tentacles could stretch out from the dangling state in which they otherwise rested.

When Cole first opened an eye, the squid seemed to take notice, for it rotated until the gaze of one of its vast yellow eyes rested on his bed. Paralyzed, Cole managed only to squeeze his eyes shut. He waited for tentacles to slither beneath the blanket and grasp hold of him. Strangely, no violence transpired that night. It was as if by closing his eyes, Cole had vanished from the sight of the creature.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Doronco & Sami - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (May 1, 2006, Jam, Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 10, 2020
Thereafter, every night without fail the squid returned. The bed became a marble slate, upon which Cole was laid out for exhibition like the corpse of a great leader before which a procession of grievers marched. There were, admittedly, a few inconsistencies with this analogy. The squid did not appear consumed by grief but rather exhibited a clinical deportment. It meticulously investigated details of the room, which possessed no particular importance on the surface. Its tentacles passed over objects--a comb, a ball--on the dresser and slid down the fabric of the window curtains without causing any disturbance. Also, Cole was not a revered dignitary lying in state; he was just a boy. Finally, Cole's near-perfect immobility stemmed not from death but from terror.

So long as Cole kept his eyes closed, the hovering squid seemed content to glide about the room at a glacial pace. However, each time Cole so much as momentarily squinted, the creature immediately pivoted and a baleful eye came to rest on the figure in the bed. The eye seemed to possess a luminosity of its own, as if it were a spotlight mounted on the perimeter of a prison, in which Cole was permanently incarcerated.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Doronco & Sami - unreleased live recording, tracks 4-8 (May 1, 2006, Jam, Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 11, 2020
It seemed insufficient to Cole merely to close his eyes. He provided an additional layer of protection by pulling the blanket over his head, so that he was completely hidden from the view of the squid. Each breath that Cole drew from the pocket of air beneath the blanket was heated by the action of his mammalian metabolism while it remained within his lungs. After a minute or so of covering his head, he felt the temperature of the air against his face rise. He supposed that the oxygen was being depleted as well, but the seal of the blanket was by no means hermetic. It seemed unlikely that he would suffocate. The discomfort that he experienced was more than compensated for by the extra barrier separating him from the cephalopod, which tirelessly stalked him.

Cole made every effort to hide this behavior from his parents, who, he was certain, would find fault with it. It fell to parents to worry about such things as the smothering of children. Cole did his best to spare them from this anxiety. As for himself, he cared naught. Should he succumb to asphyxiation, it seemed a fate comparable in tolerability to his current predicament.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Makigami Koichi, Yamataka Eye, Jim O'Rourke, Mike Patton, Ikue Mori & John Zorn - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-11 (May 12, 2006, The Japan Society, New York, United States, digital files)

January 12, 2020
No communication occurred between Cole and the hovering squid. Despite the nightly routine, no sense of familiarity emerged. Each night the squid, no less alien or threatening than during its first visit, triggered in Cole a terror so profound that his only recourse was to lie perfectly immobile with his eyes closed and head tucked beneath the blanket.

In our narrative, it serves little purpose to devote words proportional to the duration or impact of these visits. The sequence was repeated without variation; its faithful telling dull and repetitive. Because no meaning was transmitted from the squid to the boy, Cole could only speculate as to its purpose. His increasingly fantastic and sometimes gruesome conjectures formed the least static component of their relationship. Initially, Cole supposed that if he were to open his eyes, he would be immediately subject to strangulation and dismemberment by the suckered arms of the squid. Later, he imagined that the squid, marine in only superficial appearance, hailed from the stars, its motivation a cold, scientific curiosity to be satisfied by the abduction of specimens from Earth. Aboard its orbiting craft, Cole would be subject to dissection, where his biology could betray the weaknesses of the human race. Alternatively, his descent into madness could be observed at leisure as he was kept in the solitary confinement of a transparent cage for the remaining decades of his life.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Melvins - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-2 (May 17, 2006, Peter Jay Sharp Theater, New York, United States, digital files)

January 13, 2020
To be clear, the squid appeared only in the dark of night when Cole was alone in his room. His days should have provided a refuge from the creature, except for the fact that Cole continued to struggle to equilibrate to his new setting. At the preschool, he engaged in a rather tepid response to bullying, returning an unfriendly shove. So poorly disposed was his teacher to him that her suggested remedy to his new mother was that he be moved to another school. Of course, there was no other local school within their budget. His mother appealed to the principal to give Cole time to adjust. The boy received lectures of varying intensity on the subject of "His Last Chance" from the teacher, the principal as well as his parents. He perceived this process of adjudication as so biased and flawed that he made no attempt at protest.

That night, Cole welcomed the cold terror of the squid. He pulled the blanket down to his chin. He opened his eyes and invited the squid to wrap him in its tentacles and to destroy him. Squid and boy gazed fixedly at each other. Hate mixed with horror met a cool detachment. A tentacle brushed across his face. Cole plunged into unconsciousness as if he had been violently struck.

As a result of this show of defiance, the squid was joined by two companions on the following night.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Melvins - unreleased live recording, tracks 3-5 (May 17, 2006, Peter Jay Sharp Theater, New York, United States, digital files)

January 14, 2020
Biologists refer to a group of squid as a shoal, although, some uncertainty regarding the intentionality of these marine gatherings remains, most likely attributable to the hubris of human observers. In the case of the trio of squid that now intruded into the bedroom of Cole each night, no doubt existed regarding the purpose of their assembly. They appeared as a group in order to show their dominance over Cole, who had no one in reserve to call upon to buttress his defenses. The moment of rebellion, which had prompted the squid to summon companions, did not return. Their numbers had conquered his courage.

Utterly alone, Cole lay covered by the blanket as the squids floated over the oak floor of his room. They silently traced ornate patterns, their movements coordinated by an unknown means of communication. Their motion was composed of one part graceful ballet, in which the dancers never touched, and a second part meticulous mapping of a complex circuit. They traced out a route intended not to carry a current of electrons as might copper wires in a conventional device, but designed rather to allow a flow of energy along conduits tethered to a dimension seemingly inaccessible to Homo sapiens.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Seiichi Yamamoto - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-4 (June 6, 2006, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 15, 2020
The governing physics behind an axe dictates that, when the blade is attached to the end of a stick, the torque increases with the length of the handle, granting the wielder the ability to deliver a more effective blow. Cole regarded the axe as a horrible weapon of last resort. On the cover of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, an axe was brandished against the giant squid. Cole imagined the steel head hewing an arm of the beast, perhaps severing it. While, even with his meager frame, he might have possessed the physical strength to swing an axe against his tormentors, the act lay completely beyond his mental capacities, for Cole was a squeamish and gentle soul. What tribulations he had suffered to date had indeed caused his core to harden. However, the manifestation of this tempering was largely directed inward. As before, so ahead; Cole would survive each day of this new life, no matter what obstacles arose. At the same time, his experiences had not induced him to develop in a way that prompted an appreciation of cruelty toward others. What good was an axe to one of his nature?

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Seiichi Yamamoto - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-6 (June 6, 2006, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 16, 2020
We leave it to philosophers to debate the extent to which reality is defined by the laws of physics versus popular consensus based on common perception. Irrespective of where one falls along this spectrum, few would regard Cole's cephalopodic visitors as anything more than a child's fantasy, prompted by a mundane anxiety arising from his change in circumstances. Cole, himself, shared these doubts. Perhaps his apprehension could have been mitigated by calm counsel from an adult, who judged these apparitions to be nothing more than ordinary nightmares to which all children are subject. However, Cole could not bring himself to speak of the squids who invaded his room to anyone, including his new parents. Able to sense Cole's enduring uneasiness, they knew something was wrong. Attempts to extract the source of his discomfort proved wholly unsuccessful. Cole's refusal to speak could be attributed to his insecurity, his fear of ridicule, and his utter certainty that there was no one else in the world who considered his well-being to be a priority, no matter what words were offered to the contrary. Casting arguments of history and fate aside, clearly Cole became the hapless author of his own misery.

written while listening to:  Sanhedrin & Nissennenmondai - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-5 (June 24, 2006, Super Deluxe, Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 17, 2020
In the absence of ordinary remedies, the visitations of the squids persisted. Long after Cole had become acclimated to the house and his new parents, the three intruders continued their inscrutable mission. In fact, more than a decade passed. Cole moved through kindergarten up to eighth grade then entered high school. He inevitably turned sixteen and passed the driver's license examination on the second attempt. In his photo, a few stray whiskers had sprouted from his chin and he had poorly concealed the anxiety that haunted him. He worked evenings at a local hardware store, performing such tasks as the restocking of shelves with cans of paint and the moving of lumber from the delivery yard behind the building into the store proper. After closing, he mopped the aisle floors before he left. These were tasks suitable to the adult he had become.

Unsuitable to his age was the terror brought on by the squids, when, exhausted from a long day of school and work, he returned to his bed. He had never discovered any recourse other than squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head with the blanket. Without question, Cole was ashamed of his juvenile behavior. However, he lacked the insight to solve the problem for himself and the confidence to ask help from anyone else. It seemed that the only virtue to which Cole could lay claim was an unyielding stubbornness. He managed to persevere through this nightly torment, accomplishing the daily tasks of work and school, though they seemed to him a facade, masking his true struggle.

written while listening to:  Sanhedrin & Nissennenmondai - unreleased live recording, tracks 6-8 (June 24, 2006, Super Deluxe, Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 18, 2020
In the halls and cafeterias of high schools, misfits are drawn to misfits. So, although Cole was preoccupied with unraveling the mystery behind the squids' nocturnal visits, he nevertheless periodically found himself in the company of individuals who had identified him as approachable on the sole basis of his exclusion by all other groups in the school. This collection of gangly, bespectacled students, all male but for the one androgynous girl, eventually convinced Cole to find a regular place at their lunch table.

They shared no common traits. Some were academically inclined while others much less so. Several were too thin to participate in athletics, another too pudgy. Their number fluctuated around half a dozen. Privately, they regarded each other as 'friends'. However, Cole, as was his habit, extrapolated these relationships into the future and found no means by which they would be sustained long term. Consequently, he regarded the people who could have provided much needed companionship as mere encounters of convenience, owing to their temporary co-location at the school. Because he anticipated the eventual dissolution of this community, he invested little time or effort in maintaining it.

Cole's transactional view of people may be attributed to his early years in the state foster care system, in which he was shuffled from one house to another with great frequency. At this time, he was not consciously aware of the disabling effects of this attitude on his quality of life.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, track 1 (June 25, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)

January 19, 2020
There had been several factors that motivated Cole to seek the job at the hardware store. His father told stories of how he had started working when he was sixteen, so there was an implied directive for Cole to do the same, though he had not been ordered to do so. His declared reason for getting a job was to save up money for his own automobile. It was understood that his parents were in no position to contribute to such an extravagance. If Cole was to gain this measure of independence, it would be through his own labor. As a result, while he soon received a biweekly paycheck, he was extraordinarily parsimonious with the money. He did not spend it on eating out or on clothes. To the greatest extent possible he continued to rely on the amenities provided by his parents since his arrival in their house. Among the small group of students at the high school who spoke to him, Cole earned a reputation for taking his frugality beyond any reasonable measure. In moments where his generosity was especially absent, his friends semi-jokingly referred to him as 'the miser'.

If the squids hovering about his bed were aware of this new moniker, they made no sign of it to Cole.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, track 2 (June 25, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)

January 20, 2020
Even in a life divided between school and work, there appeared odd evenings, in which the use of Cole's time was not predetermined. His parents kept to the house on evenings and devoted their weekends to chores and errands. His friends from school provided an opportunity to be some place other than the house, the school or the hardware store. Cole occasionally accepted the offer to join them. In the spring and summer, as often as not, they headed to a park, where they sat around a picnic table and talked until the sun set. At that time a police officer arrived and, enforcing the curfew, impatiently ushered those who dawdled from the premises. In the winter months, when the cold, midwestern winds kept them inside, they would meet at a fast food restaurant, where Cole, in his role as miser, would invariably abstain from eating. Although Cole had no interest in recreational shopping, he also joined them as they visited stores--incense-filled record stores, one with a headshop in the basement that they were too young to enter, thrift stores where they alternately judged one shirt of a stylish vintage while another drew mocking guffaws, or a particular gaming store, in which a group of white males in their twenties seemed to permanently occupy a large table in the back. These unshapely men vociferously played the roles of wizard, cleric, thief or knight as they rolled various polyhedral dice as part of a randomization process, in which was simulated the potential to accomplish a task as noble as rescuing a village from the depredations of a marauding dragon.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Up-Tight - unreleased live recording, track 1 (June 30, 2006, Heaven's Door, Sangenjaya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 21, 2020
Because Cole had not yet saved up enough money to purchase his own vehicle, when he went out with his friends he was reliant upon them to provide transportation. It sometimes came to pass that he proved unable to put himself in the proper frame of mind to enjoy whatever unplanned activity befell the group. At those times, he wished for nothing more than to return home, but was prohibited from doing so by the fact that he did not own a vehicle. Of course, he made no request to be chauffeured home early. It was not in his nature to betray his dissatisfaction no matter how serious the circumstance, much less for so trivial a concern as boredom with one's companions.

One evening in the gaming store, while the others watched the role-playing game unfold at the back table, Cole idly occupied himself by thumbing through various books on the shelves. Some were compendiums of rules, dictating minutiae of play, such as how to incorporate the effect of distance, wind speed or partial cover into the probability that an arrow would strike a foe. Other volumes were bestiaries, catalogues of monsters, some mythical like the minotaur, while many others were unrecognizable creatures, apparently generated from the authors' imaginations.

In one of these books, Cole inadvertently came upon a description of the Teuthida Volantem, also known as the hovering squid.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Up-Tight - unreleased live recording tracks 2-5 (June 30, 2006, Heaven's Door, Sangenjaya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 22, 2020
Cole stood in the aisle as if spellbound. The illustration of the vertically oriented squid floating above the ground precisely matched his own experience. The text began with a first-hand account of an encounter with the creature, which is reproduced below.

On the first night of their renewed appearance, I discovered a trio circling my bed in the moonlight from the window. Roused from my sleep, I opened my eyes, confirming what I had already intuited in dreams, that there were three creatures, squid-like in all attributes, save that they hovered in air, rather than jetted through the marine abyss. Upon viewing them it seemed that the creatures themselves started, then proceeded to orient themselves to the geometry of the room and my presence and relative position within it.

I instantly closed my eyes, having been warned in dreams that these creatures from beyond relied upon the vision of others to perceive the world. In the absence of one whose sight they could steal, they milled about listlessly. So it must have been with these three, although I dared not visually confirm it. My only evidence of their inability to function was the fact that I rose from the bed still alive come the light of morning.^*

^*Hebeloma Crustuliniforme, from "An Introduction to A Survey of One Hundred Bestiaries", Poison Pie Publishing House, Knoxville, Tennessee, 2018, link.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Yokogawa Tadahiko - unreleased live recording track 1 (July 13, 2006, Penguin House, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 23, 2020

I cannot discern the pattern by which they choose the nights to return, but when they do, I close my eyes tight and pull the sheets over my head for good measure, just as I did when they visited me as a child. No one believed me then, saying that no such creatures exist, not squids, not hovering things, nor creatures that rely on the eyes of others to see. And no one would believe me now, were I of a mind to say anything of them. Now I confide only to this useless journal. When I am gone, someone may wonder as to the nature of the madness that took me. I tell you here it was no madness at all. If you find my bedroom vacant one morning and the sheets unmade, know then I was dragged away by the wretched, rubbery tentacles of a species who gradually overcame the only meager defense I had against them, to close my eyes and hide in a feeble and untrustworthy darkness.^*

Cole experienced an incredulity that someone else could have so closely shared the same fear, which he supposed had sprung from his imagination. For a brief moment, he felt a thrill of exhilaration that perhaps he was not as alone in this world as he had always assumed.

^*Hebeloma Crustuliniforme, from "An Introduction to A Survey of One Hundred Bestiaries", Poison Pie Publishing House, Knoxville, Tennessee, 2018, link.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Yokogawa Tadahiko - unreleased live recording track 2 (July 13, 2006, Penguin House, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 24, 2020
The notion that all people are variations on the same theme, as evidenced by the fact that human individuality, in the biochemical sense, is due to differences amounting to approximately one tenth of one percent in base pairs of our DNA, never crossed Cole's mind. If it had, perhaps his excitement at having found evidence that another had shared his tribulations would have been more muted. After all, given such a preponderance of similarity, one could suppose that unique conceptions arising from an individual brain were the exception rather than the rule. Perhaps there were no unique thoughts at all, only combinations of communal motifs. In this case, his sense of isolation could be said to have arisen solely due to his ignorance of the undeniable commonalities he shared with his fellow human beings.

Cole spent the rest of the night reading and re-reading the entry for Teuthida Volantem. He would have purchased the book on the spot, but he made it a habit not to go out with money in his pocket. This practice avoided the temptation to frivolously deplete his savings for an automobile. Moreover, the empty wallet provided visual evidence to his friends of his penurious character.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Murochin & PILL - unreleased live recording track 1 (July 15, 2006, Earthdom, Shin-Okubo, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

January 25, 2020
The editor of the bestiary was identified as Hebeloma Crustuliniforme, a name which Cole guessed to be a feminine. According to Hebeloma, Teuthida Volantem were native to the Astral plane, a bodiless realm of the mind, beyond our physics-based reality, where the inhabitants had acquired a taste for dreams. They projected themselves into the form of hovering squids so as to travel through our world and to interact with its denizens. Teuthida Volantem came to be regarded as eccentric, inter-dimensional visitors, who, like connoisseurs of rare delights, sought out dreamers of exceptional skill. Hovering squid possessed an intelligence, likely superior to that of Homo sapiens, though no rigorous comparison had been documented. It was said that those subject to a visit by these entities, who were able to overcome their instinctual fear and repulsion, could induce a squid to barter its knowledge of the planes in exchange for access to the deepest and most private of dreams. Hebeloma concluded her description of Teuthida Volantem with four biographical sketches of specific squids who, in the course of their travels, had gained some degree of notoriety among the erudite. These individuals were reported as pursuing unusual vocations, described as dreamthief, portal seeker, mnemostiller and librarian.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Doronco & Sami - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (September 1, 2006, Jam, Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 26, 2020
Cole placed the book back on the rack, behind several others. With no cash on hand, he was ashamed to ask his friends to lend him the money. He resolved to return on the following day and purchase the book. This book would serve as his first clue in tracking down Hebeloma. Who was she? Where did she live? Could he write to her? How had she come by her knowledge of the hovering squids? These thoughts swirled through his mind at a dizzying pace.

Unable to convince anyone to drive him back to the store on the next day or the one after, he returned to the store on the third day only to discover that the book was gone. A powerful sense of devastation exploded in the pit of his stomach and diffused to all portions of his body. Without any alternative, he mechanically questioned the clerk at the counter regarding the book; perhaps it could be reordered. However, the middle-aged man seemed preoccupied with a magazine article. He paid Cole little mind and indicated twice, the first time somewhat apologetically and the second less so, that he had no idea to which book Cole referred. Cole lost his attention entirely when the bell at the door rang and another patron entered. In moments, the clerk became engaged in a lively recounting of a gaming session with the new arrival. All thoughts of Cole and the book that might have saved him from a lifetime of terror were entirely forgotten.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Doronco & Sami - unreleased live recording, tracks 4-5 (September 1, 2006, Jam, Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 27, 2020
So deeply did Cole feel the loss of the book that his parents thought he was physically ill, his protests to the contrary notwithstanding. Cole limited his activities to school and work, abandoning all interactions with the classmates, who served as a reminder of his failure. He ate by himself again in a corner of the cafeteria, politely rebuffing attempts to bring him out of his solitude.

His only confidantes, now as before, were the trio of squids, who lurked in his room until he fell asleep. He told them nothing in his waking state but, because of Hebeloma's revelations, he understood they waited until he fell asleep to access his dreams. It can be rightly observed that Cole's reaction to his brief encounter with the book was no less absurdly dramatic than his on-going response to the nightly visitations.

At the risk of jeopardizing the chronology of this narrative, we note that what Cole already guessed would indeed come to pass. He would never find the book. His life would pass without ever communicating with Hebeloma. In time, he would begin to doubt his memory. Perhaps, on that one night in the gaming store, infected by the role-playing fantasy in the back room, he himself had imagined the book, the entry for Teuthida Volantem, the quote from Hebeloma and the notion that he should ever discover one with whom he could share the burden of his soul.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Doronco & Sami - unreleased live recording, tracks 6-9 (September 1, 2006, Jam, Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 28, 2020
Years passed. Cole graduated from high school and was accepted into the local state university, which allowed him to continue living at home and working at the hardware store. In the late eighties, in-state tuition remained affordable. His modest earnings sufficed to cover tuition and books. His dream of owning an automobile had already come to fruition in the form of a second-hand, pale-blue Chevrolet S-10 pickup truck with eighty-five thousand miles.

Cole disappointed his parents by electing not to enroll in the pre-med or pre-law programs. No subject especially attracted him, but he found some solace in the certainty of computer programming. In that exercise, he had utter control over every character in the code. If an error occurred, it was due to a bug, which originated with him. With patience, he could debug the code and achieve his desired result. Spending hours in this way gave him a sensation of control over his destiny.

Working full time and majoring in computer science created a demanding schedule. Returning home late one night he simply discovered that he was too exhausted to fear the squids. To be clear, Cole never overcame his terror. His weariness had banished the squids, where courage and reason had failed. They were not to return.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Keisuke Ohta - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-5 (September 20, 2006, In F, Oizumi Gakuen, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 29, 2020
Cole experienced a profound dissatisfaction with the empirical fact that exhaustion should blindly accomplish what more than a decade of conscious intent could not. It struck him as deeply offensive that the world should be made in this way. He was not a man interested in theological concerns, so he did not extrapolate his indignation to the divine as might have others predisposed to a more spiritual nature. Instead, Cole acknowledged the deep imperfections in the world, in humanity as a whole, in himself specifically and in the myriad flaws arising from the interactions between humans and the world. Once he had settled on this perspective, he gave it no further thought. After all, his days were occupied in what he could reasonably presume to be a gainful manner.

In his pale blue pickup truck, Cole repeatedly traced along the city roads a scalene triangle, with points defined by his parent's house, the hardware store and the university. Viewed from above, it takes only a modest inclination toward apophenia to see in this asymmetric geometry a portent of the imbalance to come.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Keisuke Ohta - unreleased live recording, tracks 6-9 (September 20, 2006, In F, Oizumi Gakuen, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

January 30, 2020
While humility is regarded as a virtue, it does a person little good to reflect on the life they have led and judge it to have been woefully misspent. Yet Cole was faced with this conclusion. His existence to date had been governed by a nightmare. Once the fantasy was dispelled, he was able to perceive countless missed opportunities. Had he not been so utterly preoccupied with the nightly visits of the phantasmal squids, he might have come out differently. This thought stewed in his mind as he stood on the sidewalk under a flickering streetlight and locked the door to the hardware store for the night. He might have done more to cultivate friendships, so that he now had opportunities for companionship to break up the monotony of his solitude.

There was no one to blame but himself. The squids no longer existed and could shoulder no responsibility. Still, Cole did not feel culpable; by no conscious choice had he invited the squids into his room. He supposed it was the fault of defective wiring in his brain. It also does no good to attribute the needless series of life's errors to a trait so intrinsic to one's person that it would be impossible to divorce oneself from it, were any attempt made to achieve a better result in the future.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Tony Conrad - unreleased live recording, track 1 (October 14, 2006, Instal Festival, Stirling, Scotland, United Kingdom, digital file)

January 31, 2020
If it has not already become abundantly clear, Cole placed too much value on independence. This attitude emerged in his demeanor and actions, which made others reluctant to offer advice, for fear it would be spurned. As a result, Cole was forced to learn on his own lessons that others took for granted as being instilled simply by living within a community. For example, he did not see work as a way to make himself a valuable contributor to his fellow man. Instead, he perceived labor as a path to exhaustion through which he could rid himself of his internal demons. This was how he had, albeit unintentionally, banished the squids. Therefore, Cole threw himself into his school assignments to make what refuge he could.

His work ethic resulted in the successful completion of his bachelor's degree in computer science. He would have preferred to remain working in the familiar confines of the hardware store, but the mere thought of his parents' opprobrium prevented him from even suggesting this path. Instead, he had visited the career fair with his classmates, had interviewed and had been hired by a software company with a local office downtown. Without excess fanfare, his father helped to move his meager belongings into a one-bedroom apartment downtown. By way of parting, Cole thanked the man for allowing him to stay in his house for the past eighteen years.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-5 (November 12, 2006, Stormy Monday, Kannai, Yokohama, Japan, digital files)