One of the dangerous side effects one encounters when one takes on the odious task of translating one language such as German to another language such as English, and this would likely be similar in Japanese and French or Spanish and Chinese, is that the translator tends to lose contact with this so called normal state of reality that most of us try to have a handle on. There is always the danger that the slushy gray matter floating around inside of the skull could spin off on a zero gravity tangent of malignant madness into a weird world of no dimensions. So why is it that someone will decide to gallop like a possessed swine down this no end avenue of transforming one people's set of grunting to another people's set of grunting? One possibility is that the person in question in this scenario has developed their aptitude for this field of endeavors and perhaps in doing so they might even have acquired the illusion of satisfaction from their unsung achievements. Perhaps it is like the addiction of coffee or cigarettes or television or any other countless number of drugs that one tends to abuse; the person in question here can't help themselves. The addiction to the madness of taking one set of words and putting them into another set of words has become part of the needs of the body and or mind.

The addiction to writing has consumed me. Translating, because it involves writing, also gives me a kick. Unlike most drugs, it gives the best kick when it is finally finished.

I really like my head. I want to keep contact with it as long as possible. To this, we should mention that the internet is a little like a head. Please, when you write a report or a page for internet, remember, this is not a place for Goethe of Fielding; get to the point, stick to the point and remember you are trying to sell a hot product, not a novel.

taken from 'Letter to Eva'

A few people have suggested that the webmaster of this web site of irreverence should be a little more careful in implying that José is some kind of Christ figure. They have pointed out that such a thing is blasphemy and even if it is only meant to be a parody it is not funny.

I must say, they missed the point. They are exactly wrong. José Wombat is Christ.

Now wait just a second before you flip you lid. Hold onto your socks and listen up.

The first point is the Christ question. Jesus was the Christ. Sure, whatever, but he wasn't the only one and he was not likely even the best one. Christ is like a uniform to fit into, a underwater diving suit. But it isn't a tangible thing.

It's more like a thing of a different dimension. You fit into it best when you don't try to wear it. It suits the person who dares to bare open truth, to witness life and live in the present and apply himself to being a part of it. This makes for a strange character when most try to see anything but plain truth.

We all rather have mad illusions and spend our time in the past or the future than make an effort to try and accept the present. "But if you know what it is worth, you'd look for yours here on Earth."

A Christ is a here and now being, someone who tries to understand things as they are. Of course the here and now is open to interpretation. There is no exact way to be a Christ, that is as individual as the individual that is tending toward the condition.

We all have the makings of a Christ but never think to believe it. And believing it makes it work. Saying you are a Christ will make people hate or love you. Christ is a power. It makes you different than others. But the power isn't over other people, it is over one's self. It is a power to step aside from being one's self. To be more in being and less in self. When this is attained, even if it is only for a few minutes when you are not aware of it, you are Christly and it is perfectly normal to do Christly things. 'Christly actions' are like saying that someone is being influenced by his exposure to bare truth and responding in a way that seems most appropriate.

I'll tie this in a little with Mother Teresa just this one last time and say that she was Christly. She said she saw Christ in all her patients. Maybe she saw herself. It was the way she saw the plain truth that made it most natural for her to have love and understanding for her patients.

Don't get upset when José sounds Christly. He is walking the way of the sage. He is Christly and no offence is meant (at least not too much) to anyone else that was or is or would like to be Christly.

taken from 'Letter to Eva'

Brian wanted to de a book: Two kinds of people. People who wear hats, people who don't and that sort of thing.

But really there is one classification that always leads to trouble: those who like sports and those with higher education. That's a joke. No, really, the one that is really trouble is: Us and Them.

It leads to more hatred and killing than anything else. Us Moslems, those Christians. Us whites, them blacks. Us club members, those non members.

This is no good. There is no us and them. Not even us people and them animals. The line there is also questionable. We may be other than the other animals. We may be other than the other people in the other land. But there is only one people. One species that walks and talks. Us and them is an incorrect concept. And people are other than animals only in that people are other animals than the other animals.

Suppose I could take this somewhere and explain why we could maybe stop killing each other just because we like to believe in 'us and them' but people kill their mothers and brothers and wives and they don't usually care about stupid questions like 'us and them' and who the fuck is Mother Theresa, my mom ain't called that, is she?

taken from 'Letter to Eva'