A Brief Account On The Motivation Of Ninjas

There’s a street I walk down to get home from work each night.

It’s a quiet, leafy, residential street. There’s a school on that street, behind almost every door a large family of Orthodox Jews live their quiet, respectful, happy lives in a peaceful new land. It is a beautiful street.

But after sun-down, the shadows lengthen. The trees block the light from the woefully insufficient streetlamps. It is pitch dark. I don’t like walking down that street after dark. There are Ninjas there, hiding behind the rubbish bins and on the verandahs. I haven’t seen them (theyr’re ninjas), but I know they are there, watching me. It is only the aura of sheer Awesomeness that surrounds me, preventing them from detecting any opening, that stops them from striking. But one day, they will strike anyway, and that moment could come at any time! I always walk in fear, down that street.

But this got me thinking. Why am I a target for Ninjas? I’ve never done them wrong. I’ve never publicly defamed or slandered them, nor have I damaged or stolen any of their property. I wouldn’t! Yet I, like most any other man you know, live in perpetual fear of Ninja attack. Why do they hate us so much?

And then I realised. Its not Hatred they feel. Its Jealousy. Jealousy at what they have lost, yet the rest of us retain. Which is, simply, joy in the little things. We take pleasure in simple things that bear no relevance to our survival, like cake. Or tacos. The rigorous Ninjutsu training that Ninjas are subjected to erases that simple response to nice things.

You see, when a Ninja eats a taco, he feels no joy or appreciation for this fine Mexican cuisine – regardless of whether it is authentic restaurant-made or Old El Paso make-at-home kit. He feels no pleasure at the taste of salsa. He feels only Readiness, and an awareness of all threats in his surroundings. But then he looks around. He sees us, with chilli con carne dribbling down our chins, rapture in our eyes. And then he feels the Emptiness inside him. And that just hurts.

So that is why none of us are safe, friends. Enjoy each taco you eat. Enjoy it to its fullest extent.

It may well be the last taco you eat.

Published in: on June 8, 2009 at 11:11 am  Leave a Comment  
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