In the far-away left-coast land of O.B., ancient legend tells of an ice-cream truck painted entirely in Rastafarian red, gold and green with an enormous booming sound system attached to the roof selling Asian noodles late nights to the bar crawlers, Vietnamese fishermen and penniless monks that can be found along Newport Avenue. Meditating on the sea wall late one night a low rumble shook my belly and I was overcome by the sound of roots reggae that filled the area. I looked around me and saw the most marvelous sight – it was indeed the mythical Asian Noodles Sound System approaching. As it did, throngs of people spilled out of the bars and followed it until it came to a peaceful stop in front of me down by the water’s edge. Immediately the side window slid open and we were served a delicious feast of Asian noodles and heavyweight dub on the beach at 2 am, all courtesy of the truck’s proprietor, a mysterious and elusive saint named Santo, who just so happens to be Disko Baloba’s cousin and fellow Komuso Monk. That this mysterious man, wearing only a Vancouver Canucks T shirt and a speedo, could produce and transport such amazing noodles along with this booming sound intrigued me – how could all the necessary equipment fit into this one truck? Over the ensuing months I was able to convince Santo, a secretive and guarded figure with a weakness for homemade Colombian aguardiente, to allow me to install a single video camera inside the Asian Noodles Sound System for a night in order to document and understand the inner workings of this otherworldly phenomenon. This, friends, is what the camera captured:
saudade brothers 
I’m so glad to know the word “aquardiente.” It’s a good one.
The Dub Truck will be sure to give props where props are due