I have a photo essay up at the On the Wing section of Full of Crow. It's in Issuu. If you are unfamiliar with it, you just click on the cover and it should zoom to full screen, then read it like a book.
This is my favorite hangover story. A raise of the glass to the inimitable Dorothy Parker.
You Were Perfectly Fine
The pale young man eased himself carefully into the low chair, and rolled his head to the side, so that the cool chintz comforted his cheek and temple.“Oh, dear,” he said.”Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Oh.”The clear-eyed girl, sitting light and erect on the couch, smiled brightly at him.“Not feeling so well today?” she said.“Oh, I’m great,” he said.”Corking, I am. Know what time I got up? Four o’clock this afternoon, sharp. I kept trying to make it, and every time I took my head off the pillow, it would roll under the bed. This isn’t my head I’ve got on now. I think this is something that used to belong to Walt Whitman. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.”“Do you think maybe a drink would make you feel better?” she said.“The hair of the mastiff that bit me?” he said.”Oh, no, thank you. Please never speak of anything like…
On the twenty-eighth of February, 1936 (on the third day, that is, of the February 26 Incident), Lieutenant Shinji Takeyama of the Konoe Transport Battalion—profoundly disturbed by the knowledge that his closest colleagues had been with the mutineers from the beginning, and indignant at the imminent prospect of Imperial troops attacking Imperial troops- took his officer’s sword and ceremonially disemboweled himself in the eight-mat room of his private residence in the sixth block of Aoba-cho, in Yotsuya Ward. His wife, Reiko, followed him, stabbing herself to death. The lieutenant’s farewell note consisted of one sentence: “Long live the Imperial Forces.” His wife’s, after apologies for her unfilial conduct in thus preceding her parents to the grave, concluded: “The day which, for a soldier’s wife, had to come, has come. . . .” The last moments of this heroic and dedicated couple were such as to make the gods themselves weep. The lieutenant’s age, it should be …