Tearful thanks, good folks, but I would rather be a robber

Saturday, September 01 2012 @ 02:34 PM JST

Contributed by: Y.Yamamoto



A ninja of the Iga
school

I'm still hanging around at the waiting room of Grim Reaper's office without knowing exactly when my turn comes along. Aside from household chores, I have nothing in particular on my to-do list, except periodically reviewing the situation with the second round of my legal/extra-legal battle against City Hall, and updating my blood pressure chart and "dose control sheet" to keep the medical cost to an absolute minimum.

Now that I'm gradually getting used to the flood of Sumaho, though still with some difficulty, the only things that really disturb my peace of mind for now are money issues, and this horrible toothache.

The day before yesterday, I went to the nearby eatery I frequent to take a swallow of, rather than a bite at a humble dinner.

As soon as I sat at the table, I said to the wife of the owner-chef: "It seems I ought to visit Sensei (the dentist I mentioned in a recent post) tomorrow if only for the pain relievers and antiphlogistic drugs. Any other dental practitioner would refuse to write a prescription as a stopgap measure, insisting a careful examination and 'causal treatment' are needed, instead."

The woman knew that I couldn't financially afford the removal of a tooth and any dentures to replace it. She assured me that was the right thing to do.

When I was through with my dinner, her husband emerged from the kitchen and offered me something that looked like rolled-up 1,000-yen bills. He mumbled almost inaudibly: "You can use this for the train fare to visit Sensei's clinic." I declined to accept the monetary gift because there was no reason for him to do me such a favor. But he slid it down into my shirt pocket.

Yesterday, I visited the dental office for the first time. It was a 30-minute train ride. I'd just expected the independent-minded dentist, who recently abandoned the membership in the cartel named Japan Dentist Association, to write me a prescription of affordable drugs without any treatment. But the moment he looked at the swollen part of my gum, he said: "Any medication won't work anymore unless you allow me to remove this one." I refuted: "As you already know, I can't simply afford that." His answer: "Of course, it's free of charge. We are regulars at the same restaurant, right?" Actually, he later instructed one of his assistants to make it all free except for a token fee for the initial visit. At the reception desk, I asked her: "How much would it have cost me?" She said, "Something more than 10 thousand."

I really felt grateful to the dentist and the owner of the restaurant for everything they did to me in the last couple of days. But at the same time, I was very uncomfortable.

The generous donation in the amount of 700K yen my close local friend "DK" gave me from October 2011 through June 2012 is a different story. At that time DK said he just wanted to "reciprocate" because he had learned a lot from my way of thinking and living.

On the contrary we don't have common areas of interest among us. It is true that the dental practitioner and I share the same opinion about Japan's medical cartel. But it seems we are not really on the same page because Sensei left Japan Dental Association for a reason that has something to do with a conspiracy theory he believes in. He is a regular at a series of seminars organized by Benjamin Fulford.

And most importantly, they owed me absolutely nothing.

On my way home, I quickly analyzed my ambivalent feelings.

I have already talked a lot about my father's extraordinary education policy. But I haven't talked that much about the DNA and other factors involved in my formative causation. When Rupert Sheldrake hypothesized on "morphic resonance," his main concern was with its physical aspects. But now I want to talk a little about the influence these factors had on my personality.

All I know about the diplomatic career of my maternal grandfather is that he was one of the delegates when the Treaty of Portsmouth was inked at the end of the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905) and that he was the consul general, perhaps stationed in New York, at the time Woodrow Wilson was in office. In all likelihood, he was yet another Japanese diplomat who remained under the influence of the Wakon Yosai mindset. Nobody expected him, or his colleagues, to be competent enough to fend off the imperialist ambitions of Wilson's America.

Genealogy-wise, he was a descendant of a high-ranking samurai serving the Mori clan of Choshu Domain throughout the feudal era.

There is a Japanese proverb that goes: "
武士は食わねど高楊枝 " which literally means "A starving samurai should hold his toothpick high." Some say it has the same implication as the old Western adage that says: "The eagle doesn't catch flies." But I suspect their interpretation is wrong because the Japanese saying just refers to feigned stoicism which was considered the single most important virtue of samurai. Apparently I have inherited something to be called "greed deficiency syndrome" from my maternal lineage. Although I don't know whether I have acquired it or it's congenital, that is basically why my post-retirement life has been so poverty-stricken.

A more important influence, however, comes from my paternal bloodline. It traces back to generations of ninjas who belonged to the Kouga school of Ninjutsu. They were to the Tokugawa Shogunate what CIA agents are to U.S. presidents since FDR. Aside from their acrobatic agility and other physical abilities, they had first-rate intellectual faculties such as good analytical mind coupled with keen instinct to identify enemies, and boldness to quickly kill them as the necessity arose.

As to loyalty to the master, my father looked to have been largely mutated. He never concealed his contempt for the Emperor. But it all adds up when I take into account the historical fact that in 1867 the Shogunate ceded power to the Emperor after a fierce battle. Throughout his lifetime, my father remained loyal to his own cause. I think I inherited from him the unwavering inclination to value dignity more than anything else.

These are the attributes I have inherited from, or through, my father. And that's why I would rather be a robber than a beggar.

Usually I am a friendly and compassionate person with a superb sense of humor. That's how my local friends describe me. But at the same time, I am a very dangerous person who always wants you to respect me. If you don't feel like it, you should at least fear me.

In the last several years I've experienced a lot of humiliation from Americans. They are extremely touchy and easy to get hurt. But at the same time, they are too insensitive to notice they are hurting others much more than others hurt them. That's presumably because they think they have special privilege to insult others, especially serfs in the American fiefdom.

So beware if you are one of those wicked Americans. I am a proud descendant of ninjas. My passport expired a couple of years ago. But I might think about renewing it, and rob someone of enough money, or max out my credit cards, to buy a one-way ticket to your country.

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