Thursday 26 May 2011

The X-tinct files (part 1)

This post, which is to be seen as the start of a series, will be dedicated to allegedly declared extinct species and phenomena. Today, we will turn our attention to shinobi, more commonly known as ninja.

Whereas most of us only "know" ninja from one of the many forms of popular modern media - such as television, books, video games, manga, Western comics and reptiles of the order Testudines characterized by their special bony shell - only few people are aware of the historical facts, gathered from academic and historical sources.

In a nice little book I bought in Japan (Ninja Attack! True tales of Assassins, Samurai and Outlaws), the authors explain the true story behind these fascinating spies - because that is what they basically were. Now rather than summarizing what they have written, I will focus on one particular passage (page 11): 'Ninja don't exist anymore. Or more precisely, they don't exist in the form in which they appear in the pages of this book'. And, let this at least be clear before you all start filling the Amazon basket, that is by no means the black-pajama-donning, quantum-teleporting, mummificated-sword-wearing, pizza-delivering, roof-tiptoeing, shuriken-throwing flying-with-stretched-leg martial artist you might have in mind now.

It is true though: the 'classical' ninja do not exist anymore, but they have made place for a new breed of bad-ass Masters of Stealth. They might even already have crossed your path, especially if you often need to take a train. Because insofar as your untrained eye is capable of catching a glimpse of these new ninja, your only real chance to notice them is right before boarding a crowded train (although their modus operandi is unknown, let alone their Code, some people have conjectured that taking uncrowded trains must be some sort of violation of their principles).

Now, next time you need to catch a train during rush hour, try to perform the following experiment: as soon as the train arrives, most people will naturally clog together in the neighbourhood of the doors. You can't really describe the resulting configurations as actual waiting lines, because of an unavoidable and omnipresent amount of inherent chaos, so let's call them the waiting fractals. Unless of course you are in Japan - the Capital of Queueing. As for the purpose of our experiment this would be a pity, since this is oddly (and paradoxically) enough one of the few places on earth where the new ninja breed has never been observed before. Now, join this V-shaped group of people and make sure that you align yourself along the railway track. Ideally, there should be a 30cm space between your body and the train. Under normal circumstances, the people around you will be waiting for the people getting off the train, and there is an unwritten rule which then tells you when you can get on the train. It is actually rather a general guideline than an official rule, but you are very unlikely to violate social conventions if you stick to a combination of the principle of 'first come, first serve' and the 'zipper system' in traffic.

However, every once in a while, you might notice individuals ignoring all of the above: moving swiftly along the track, passing each and everyone, squeezing their ninja-ass between your body and the train. And this usually happens so quickly that you are most likely to end up wondering whether you just saw a ghost or not.

From now on, remember this: you didn't, you were merely overtaken by a member of the New Mysterious Breed of Shinobi...

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