Crazy Kei the DIY cosplayer

MJG Japan, Manga / Anime / Cosplay 2 Comments

kei1Kei is a funky if kind of mad old guy I met one night on a random photo-walk through Shinjuku’s skyscraper district (West). I was on the bridge shooting pretty city lights and so was he, me with my dSLR and he with some weirdly contrived home-made compact camera.


MJG Stories, Surreal 6 Comments

gutterman 1601by Michael John Grist.
I found him one mad marsh-walking night. I was out in the bogs, I don’t know why, crossing wet rivers and wading through peat mulberry patches, dashings of filth worming their way into the cuffs of my suit turn-ups, smidgeons of muck smudging up and under my fingernails.

Not many banana

MJG Japangrish 3 Comments

many banana21Raising kids is tough. Ask any parent and they’ll talk to you for hours about the hundreds of daily decisions they face in naturing and nurturing their kids into healthy little human robots.

Building New Atlantis

MJG Science Fiction, Stories 5 Comments

building new atlantis1by Michael John Grist
The first stage in the construction of New Atlantis went quietly, and the world scarcely noticed. It looked enough like a new ship or oil drilling platform on the satellite photos that no other nation would pay it too much mind.

Ruins of the Queen Chateau Soapland, HDR

MJG Haikyo, Ibaraki, Sex Industry 9 Comments

It was my second time to visit the ruins of the Queen Chateau. It’s a bizarre abandonment, a giant soapland in the midst of a cluster of still-functioning soaplands presiding over them like the towering castle in the suburbs in Edward Scissorhands. Within its walls sex was transacted for money on a grand scale, on 6 floors of executive suites, …

Mack’s Kids

MJG Zine 8 Comments

by Michael Brown “I had a life once,” the trucker said pushing away the unfinished food on his plate. He downed the coffee. He ate late in diners. Slept in his truck or in motel rooms. Hazards of his occupation. “Why so sad tonight?” Cherise said, pouring another cup. “Maybe I’m thinking about my ex a little too much lately.” …


MJG Stories, Surreal 3 Comments

by Michael John Grist I cut open his brain because he needed help. “Help me,” he’d whispered, banging at my fly screen in the middle of the night, his wet shirtsleeves slapping against the cracked glass of my back porch slide door. “I need help.” So I’d let him in. Set him down. Listened to him talk. “There’s a waterfall,” …