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Fine Art America
Podcast 2019
Middle Kingdom Podcasts (2005-2017)

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The Language Company
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MK 84


Good evening Saigon and the streets are filled with beggars, moto-hustlers, hookers, shoeshine kids, single mothers with babies wrapped tight, sunglass salesman, newspaper vendors, yakking cell yellers, DVD's, nail clippers, perfumes, snacks, and women selling everything but their skin because men are greedy. Not to mention motorcycle parking security dudes and lost, dazed, overweight bored European tourists.

Life on Saigon sidewalks.

MK 84 for your ears....






This is my image on SpaceBook, a legendary sight. I live in Vietnam, a country in Southeast Asia. 

My brother and I dream of freedom. Are you the hunter or are you the prey?


My brother experimented with a filter to perceive the world with new visionary acuity.  




I asked for a Vietnamese iced coffee in an alley off a main street filled with jolly plastic Santa Claus armies and tinsel. Tis the season.

The young girl opened a Styrofoam box. She picked up a chunk of white ice in her left hand, cradling it inside a blue cloth. She slammed a hammer on the ice. It cracked.

Fissures of released pressure, jagged lines, imperfect beautiful lines spread deep inside the ice. She held global warming in her hot little left hand.

She smashed it again and again creating fragments of ice, chips, particles. She dropped the small block of ice back in the box. She collected chips in a glass, added fresh thick brown coffee extract, some condensed milk, a straw and a spoon. Done.

A piece of cold sharp ice pierced my left eye. The pain was minimal, cushioned by the delicious cold feeling as the ice melted through a retina, a pupil, nerve endings, tissue, layers of perception - then my vision altered its state as light transmitted new signals from rerouted optic nerves to the cerebral cortex. 

It was the quality of ice and I began to reflect everything around me. The stimulant of ice this frozen water now becoming liquid was glass. The world is made of glass, crystals shimmering inside the kaleidoscope of ice. While the illusion appears to be smooth and clear on the surface, buried deep inside are long jagged beautiful lines filled with magic, mystery and sparkling universes, emitting glowing crystal rivers.

The world is ice. Everything you see, hear, touch, taste and feel is ice, a sibylline language of clarity.


Before this woman became a butterfly she was a useful member of society. She is practicing here.


Gator Aid


My name is Ali Gator. I live on a farm with 200 friends near Saigon. I used to live in the Mekong River but was trapped by some greedy animal poachers and brought here. Many humans are too greedy and clever for their own good. They use me for breeding. The babies are sold to restaurants. Bye-bye baby.

One tropical afternoon a group of us were relaxing by the pool after our weekly vegetarian lunch. Surely initiated the idea. She knows a thing or two about consumption habits.

"You know what we need to do is expand. I suggest we create a line of bags, belts, shoes, purses and accessories made of human skin."

Aghast, a strong-willed female member of the dwindling population has a degree in marketing.

"I agree," she said. "Considering the passion carnivores crave for designer wear so they can make a fashion statement, it's only logical to assume Italian, French and English skins will provide us the color, texture, suppleness, elasticity, diversity, durability and above all the QUALITY demanded and expected by millions of animals."

"Remember their eyes," said Esther.

"What about them?" sang the chorus.

"They make great buttons."

"Yes," replied Grace. "We should respect them and recycle everything."

Scales, with a background in finance and dodgy mergers spoke up.

"I've done a cost-benefit-analysis and it's doable. Human skin resources are cheap and plentiful. Sweatshop labor manufacturing and production facilities are already up and running. Our biggest hurdles are the ethical values of the end consumer. I mean, why would a Siberian tiger, whale, Malayan sun bear, elephant, cobra, eagle, or pileated gibbon be caught dead wearing anything made of human skin? It's beyond me."

"Everything is beyond you," countered Minksy a new member of our slumbering tribe. "It's all a matter of personal taste."

We took a vote. It was unanimous. "Hooray! Let the hunt begin!"

We celebrated with a round of drinks made with human blood. This is perfect timing, I thought, seeing all my friends in a new light. We'd create a new line of human skin products to be introduced worldwide before the holidays. It's a wonderful life.



This Waking Dream


I've been sitting down and exploring Saigon now for three weeks. Some travelers shared their story.

...The couple from Poland. They recently visited Borneo and camped for four days with an eco-friendly outfit in the jungle. Their operation has been going for 20 years. The couple said they saw orangutans, amazing plumaged birds, scorpions, snakes, and butterflies. Their future travel dreams include Madagascar to see the lemurs, Komodo Island dragons, and the Panda Conservatory in China.

It's refreshing to meet people traveling to experience the natural world, rather than focusing on museums and cities. Some prefer their comfort zones, others take the road less travelled. 

  • The Korean man and his family returning on a vacation. In the 60's he worked in remote areas of Laos constructing roads and airfields for Air America, the secret CIA funded airline from 1950-1976. He also worked in Da Nang.
  • The family with two young kids from Darwin, Australia. The mother said, "This is a good experience for my girl and boy. It teaches them tolerance."
  • The two girls from Chile and Argentina. They met by chance in Sydney and teamed up. They left their respective homes, much to the dismay and concern of family and friends to travel for a year. It's their first time away from home and they've settled into the routine and joy. They've headed north to explore Ha Noi, the coast and mountains before eventually turning south to Laos, Cambodia and Thailand. They have no time limitations.


Sculpture at Fine Arts Museum.

 Shirts made of tree bark.

Petrol and tires, Saigon street business.