Reikai Monogatari in English: The Number of the Beast (665-666)

The 666th discourse in Reikai Monogatari is entitled “666”. However, this 666 is pronounced “Miroku”, the Japanese word for Maitreya, the future Buddha who will unite mankind. In Japanese, 3 is “mi” and 6 is “roku”, so “Miroku” = “three sixes” = 666. I have decided some parts of this bizarre chapter are worth translating.

[I am not going to bother looking up the source of the “potato-babies” which is probably from a previous volume.]

Chapter 665: Mountains and Rivers Everlasting

Thump, thump, went Tomeko, without concealing his inner nature, once again carefully trampled on the potato-bumpkin baby, saying, “Hey, this redneck abortion, seems I’ve had an effect on it, but a redneck like this can’t help being unprepared. Nothing wrong with this, could be a good-neck, bad-neck, scary-neck, cute-neck, hard-neck, happy-neck, sad-neck, I can get three necks from this bastard, I can trample it anywhere with six fingers. Its neck is in the red now.”

And he smashed and broke it to his heart’s content. Maura the evangelist came running, and seeing this mess, said,

Maura. — Tome, what do you think you’re doing?

Tomeko. — You’ve found me in a tight spot. Please excuse my sins with your Salvation Army songs. I can split this baby’s head into so many new families.

Maura. — I’ll be quiet if you don’t want me to talk. But you’re stepping on a potato-bumpkin, are you not?

Tomeko. — But of course, resources are scarce these days, and the increase of these potato-bumpkins is a drain on the nation’s resources. If the potato sprouts three times, it means three new babies. Mrs. Sanger has come with the birth control, and the program starts right here. Please pretend you don’t see this! Don’t send Mrs. Sanger away! Ahahahahah!!

Maura. — We can’t have that. Even if the population increases to the number of stars in the sky, even if a child is born for every grain of sand, that is the way of God. Is your violence against the Great Way of creation and growth a good thing?

Tomeko. — If you look at this from the perspective of national economic health, from scientific principle, for the coexistence of mankind, I am convinced this carries out the Will of God. If you let me speak for a moment without interruption I will explain it in full.

Maura. — I order you to stop. But wait, here comes the man from before with his hoe, and he looks furious.

[Hillbilly] Man. — Are you destroying these lovely, lovely babies again?

Tomeko. — But in the Brahman faith, they are prepared to subjugate even a baby. You won’t stop me. This is the result of that child’s karma.

[Rest Omitted]

Chapter 666: “666”

Tell the tale of the ogres now 18, beautiful duckling and ugly swan, the snakes now 20, it is yet too early for the season of 666, a long and thin daddy longlegs, take the pen of Saint Kato, while the lustrous moon [Zuyigetu/Mizuki?/Onisaburo??] lies in bed, old and new jumbled together, a tale told in a dream, in the heart, waves and Mount Utsu [Argentina??], the villages stand their ground, and a Brahmanist evangelist, Domohiko who muddies the kotodama, to the heavenly kotodama of Maura, a line of text strikes and escapes, while reading the crosspieces in the ceiling, [Japan=] Shikishima smoke and hazy cloudfog, buttocks in the bed, nowhere to capture-cry-create Domohiko’s story, aaaah! as in the age of the gods, as in the age of the gods! Slip, slide, kotodama wheel-and-dealers! crying no, no, but going along all the while!

Hillbilly using a hoe for a cane, while he hides his face with a grimy towel like boiled-over stew, fast he goes to the side of Tomeko, raising his grating voice like dragging Ishihara around with his empty oil can, begins to sing, stuff and nonsense a good acquaintance, Tomohiko’s conquest song.

Tomorrow, sunshine and clouds
Waxing waning moon
Uzu mountain villagers
Shoulder the hoe dawn to dusk
Fieldwork for grannies and daughters
Hard and zealous they labor
Utter hypocrite god
Great Tomohiko is coming
First of all, Tomeko
The springtime young widow, with words of healing,
lost consciousness from that day
Twenty houses of villagers
forget their field labor
From day to night, the Brahman
reading scriptures none understand
sheds tears of gratitude
This year is precisely three years
Every year, the fields go rough
What will happen from now on?
The villagers have lost the way
They laugh and say, madman! obsessive!
Sow the wheat, plant the beans
From dawn to dusk, the bumpkin child
Raised on manure
Enjoy your adulthood, kid!
Sweat on your brow from day to night
Tomeko, to the field being made
Scared, frightened by pure kotodama
of the 3-5-ist Morihiko
Off the path, into our field
stepped the baby, who was cruelly
trampled underfoot —
be still my heart!
Here comes Tomeko
Forceful negotiator
But that Tomeko’s words
Don’t pierce my gut
There’s a theory women run the country
Even if there are bumpkins in this world
Should we let little babies be trampled?
Go back to the old ways!
Even if the teaching of Brahmanism
Has cruelty to the divine blessing
Does that let you damage and destroy?
I move in to hear the reply
This Tomeko lifts his head
Fails to suppress his scornful laugh
Mrs. Sanger will be here
To put restrictions on birth
As you spit out that fussy theory
20, 30 more bumpkin babies
Smash them for the nation
Nay, for the world! (isn’t that opposite?)
I can’t bear it any longer

[Rest Omitted]

Posted: April 5th, 2013 | World Peace