Cherry Samurai Yujiro Taniyama, Japan Broadcasting . net Corporation Tokyo correspondent



I’m writing this Nobel-winning (to be) mini column at MOS Burger shop (not ‘MOTH’) in the outskirts of Tokyo. Although unsubstantiated, someone told me more than a decade ago that the name of the popular Giapponese hamburger chain stands for;

M = Mountain

O = Ocean

S = Sea


Is is true? Who knows. But what’s really important, is that starting today MOS will have no choice but to stand for;

M = Month

O = of

S = Sakura


Indeed, while performing my serious civic duty (morning skipping) today, the Rope Dancer Samurai was welcomed open arms by an incredibly remarkable ‘Kawa-Zoo Sakura’ tree! (pictured by the author. Also spelled ‘Kawazu’ 河津桜)

Purportedly, there are over 100 different types of cherry blossoms in Giappone. Impossibly, some argue that the figure exceeds five hundred. Verification does not seem practicable, so we have no choice but to merely guess. But one thing that seems unshakable (and verifiable!) is; how the Nipponese have traditionally and enigmatically cherished this one particular tree for centuries.

What should we make of it, girls, boys and ladyboys?

Apparently it’s merely a pink-petals-tree; and quite ubiquitous these days widespread across the globe. Londoners, New Yorkers and the Afghans aren’t even bothered to say the least. Notwithstanding, the prudent reader may also recognize that this ‘Mrs. Sakura’ syndrome suddenly becomes a BIG THING, the very moment it blossoms in the Land of the Rising Fun.


Why is this ‘trivial’ ( to Peruvians and Moroccans) Mrs. S such a big name only in Giappone? That, is the loquacious Cherry Samurai’s (not ‘boy’) humble question.



Lusty pink for today’s excellent lust

My argument, noble ladies and gentlemen is this.

We, the unremarkable Giapponese (or Japanese, whatever) , first of all have long been unconsciously obsessed with this idea that dying young is beautiful. DYB. The cherry blossoms’s lifespan is said to be roughly a week, if not two.   That, is not very long. As our Mahayana (‘esoteric’) Buddhism strictly preaches impermanence, so called the ‘brevity of life notion’ probably synchronizes comfortably with Mrs. Sakura. She is reminiscent of Seppuku (ritual suicide 切腹) by Samurai, 19 year old Kamikaze pilots on Mitsubishi Zero fighters, and those who perished out of the blue due to natural calamities such as earthquakes, tsunami, floods and most importantly, the Gozilla attacks.



Secondly, that ‘my fellow citizens are exceptionally lewd’. Not rude, but lewd. My theory can be terrifically proven by pointing out that the population of 1,260,00,000 (one hundred twenty six million) on landmass of just 370,000 ㎢ is somewhat extraordinary. Had we been habitually wolfing down mushed-potatoes like the mighty Irish, it would’ve certainly been Mission Impossible Tom Cruise for our ancestors to biologically reproduce at such a tremendous speed! As my motherland is often referred to as the 「瑞穂の国」 – or Mizuhono Kuni; meaning the ‘Land of the Rising RICE’ – the magical game changer was irrefutably rice, which could be harvested unto thrice a year, whose mass production enabled the fulfillment of the egregious appetite of Cherry Samurai’s gorgeously salacious ancestors.

And it is this, dear reader, those lusty pinky Sakura petals that latently instigates carnal-riot of the mind within the cerebral senses of the Nipponese. Correct, the good ol’ days of celibacy and puberty when people were fearless, ambitious and limitless as Shakespeare’s Juliet and Romeo. Free from all burdens and anticipations, the wondrous cherry blossoms have unintentionally brought back prodigious libido and the memories of resilient adolescence among the masses, perhaps dating back even as far as the 12th century Kamakura Samurai period.

To make a long story short, drinking sake and confabulating (not copulating, sadly) beneath the ‘naughty pink’ today still rejuvenates the Nippon-Gin, although largely spiritually. (※ Ironically the demography of Nippon has been plummeting significantly in the recent years)


Thirdly, and lastly, it is up to you the sage to decide.


At any rate, let me please underscore that after three whole years of pestilence, I am finally and truly looking forward to emptying bottles of Japan’s scrumptious rice wines with Mrs.S!

Domo Arigato.


Bow m(_ _)m