Zen and the art of pushing my patience

Ah, the evocative sounds of the Japanese night. Over the centuries countless poets have been inspired by the cry of the cicada, the rustle of grass in the summer wind and the ear-splitting racket of some cretin revving a motorbike really really loudly when I’m trying to sleep.

The view from my apartment. Taken about 8 seconds ago.

The Japanese word for this phenomenon is ‘bosouzoku’. Like other concepts deeply rooted within Japanese culture it’s difficult to provide a faithful English translation, however the phrase ‘dickheads on bikes’ has become the most widely accepted.

‘Pricks on motorcycles’ is also used.

Despite the name, ownership of a motorbike is not in itself enough to become a bosouzoku. After all any dick can simply own a bike. To truly attain true ‘dickead on a bike’-ness, you must first open your mind to the movement’s inherent spirituality. Only then can one be said to be being a dickhead in the proper manner.

Actually pretty Zen, really.

Firstly, one must clear one’s mind of all transient thoughts rooted in the impermanence of matter. Then you sit on your bike and rev it. And rev it again and again. And again. And then once more.

Repeat this sacred process until enlightenment is achieved.

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