intertextual mine #2
Shintaro – Akikusa!
Toubei – the mist!
the only chopped up [scenes from my childhood in this one] offering on youtube of “The Samurai”…
….one might say that this explains my fascination with japan, but one might then be wrong…
although it may be that at some deeper level, i have absorbed the lessons of the samurai and the ninja, their codes of behaviour and their night-time practices in the righting of wrongs, these underground robin hoods of the east.
…speaking of…richard green anyone? (the opening song featuring in many episodes of our lives)
so that, when i hit japan for the first time, so many years ago now (just over 30 years ago to be precise) some subterreanean identification may have been raised in my psyche… such that i suddenly recognised – while not recognising the source of the recognition – that this was one of my real ‘homes’. thus causing me to spend the following ten years figuring out ways of getting back there to rediscover my roots.
well, at least to try to figure out what made the place tick.
of course, that can never be pinned down, but, what does happen is that in some strange way, one is after a while able to slot in, to relax and feel in place, to feel comfortable in another culture while not actually being a part of it. a strange, intoxicating, and satisfying state.
Toubei – the mist!
the only chopped up [scenes from my childhood in this one] offering on youtube of “The Samurai”…
….one might say that this explains my fascination with japan, but one might then be wrong…
although it may be that at some deeper level, i have absorbed the lessons of the samurai and the ninja, their codes of behaviour and their night-time practices in the righting of wrongs, these underground robin hoods of the east.
…speaking of…richard green anyone? (the opening song featuring in many episodes of our lives)
so that, when i hit japan for the first time, so many years ago now (just over 30 years ago to be precise) some subterreanean identification may have been raised in my psyche… such that i suddenly recognised – while not recognising the source of the recognition – that this was one of my real ‘homes’. thus causing me to spend the following ten years figuring out ways of getting back there to rediscover my roots.
well, at least to try to figure out what made the place tick.
of course, that can never be pinned down, but, what does happen is that in some strange way, one is after a while able to slot in, to relax and feel in place, to feel comfortable in another culture while not actually being a part of it. a strange, intoxicating, and satisfying state.
