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You see a missile, a rocket powered bomb really... with a cockpit... a man inside rides this thing to his death for honor, for the greater good, and for his own self awareness. For better or worse.

The Empire called these fighters Kamikaze, God's Wind. This particular aircraft, if you could call it that, the Ohka, "Cherry Blossom," a thing of beauty and power. A single petal amidst a hanafubuki.

The allies called it something else. After all, what is it really? A man gets inside a bomb that can be almost as easily aimed mechanically, and rides it to his death... VOLUNTARILY. You would call that man a few things most likely, and that flying deathtrap as well. The allies called the "XY7 Ohka" by the name "Baka," the Japanese word for idiot.

I can relate. I have a entirely unwarranted sense of admiration for the Japanese culture... and I'm entirely American, in all that is not beautiful. Somewhere in the middle I find the path I walk on, gentleman Samurai when I can be, when I'm strong enough... but spoiled, unfocused clumsy American sometimes as well. I love both cultures, there's nothing wrong with being unfocused and spoiled. It is just a path.

In the end I expect people look at me sometimes and see a noble busho philosopher... and other people... or the same people at other times see a fool acting like he aspires to foolishness. Beauty. Idiocy.

OhkaBaka

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