The battlefield.

The Brooklyn blogosphere is filled with many tales of woe, of homeland lost to marauding invaders. The occupiers are called many names: that weird bamboo stuff, that gross reddish-green alien-lookin weed; but their true name is Japanese Knotweed, and they are a cruel master. Nobody quite knows why they came: there’s even a rumor that they were invited as mercenaries to keep the wanderlustful soil from running away. Some claim they were first brought here for their exotic beauty.

As you can see, they make inroads anywhere they can squeeze their little red heads through, even if there is no sunlight.


I set out this past weekend to reclaim my land for the use of humans and canines and felines and many other well-behaved green species ethnically cleansed by the knotweed from this 25×60 country.

I raised my garden trowel as if I were El Cid attacking the Moors, except in flip-flops and without the horse, and began the liberation. I showed the adults no mercy: I grabbed them by the limbs and sliced them from front to back with my blade. They collapsed in heaps upon their still-living brothers. Here you can see their now-putrescent corpses rotting in the sun:

And here, their twisted and broken spines.

The once-again sun-drenched Holy Family smiles upon me as I free them from the grip of the heathen hordes.

In the fire pit we used only twice, their children huddle. For a moment, I consider sparing them and raising them as my own. But it’s part of their devilish trick; the children of knotweed grow up to themselves be knotweed. I cut them down like dogs.

Some I pulled out by their filthy, garbage-entwined roots. They will live anywhere. They disgust me.

I realize it’s a hideous prospect, but they can even be eaten after slaughter — I thought maybe this would deter their numbers but it has had no effect. They truly are a barbarian race.

I will be fighting their numbers for aeons, I know. But my reward will be heaven — at least, in the form of a great outdoor space. They have already begun to write tales of my glory.


Knotweed, watercolor, by Jeremy Sapienza.

(If you have any knotweed adventures, please send me your links and I’ll do a Knotweed Inquisition roundup.)