THE RISE

When I was a kid nothing filled me with awe like the thought of an actual living breathing -- killing, capable-of-preventing-you-from-breathing -- ninja. They were unstoppable. Cool beyond all belief, and ultra deadly. And they dressed in black.

Popularized by '80s movies like Revenge of the Ninja, American Ninja, various Shaw Brothers films... even the atrocious, yet fondly-recalled Ninja III: The Domination. A movie which, as far as I remember, didn't even have a ninja in it, rather just a ninja's ghost which took over some Jennifer Beals wannabe and turned her into a killing machine.

They even made a short-lived TV show about ninjas called "The Master". Another entrant in that rich television tradition (popularized by David Carradine in "Kung Fu") of white guys playing Asian martial arts masters. In this case, Lee Van Cleef as... um, a ninja.

At one point, after losing my one and only, dull-as-an-ashtray throwing star -- procured through a school yard trade involving baseball cards I had zero use for, and a broken compass -- I decided to buy some genuine "ninja-climbing claws." I'd seen them advertised in a ninja magazine. Think about that. A whole magazine, focusing on nothing but ninjas. What a time to be alive! So I cut out the ad for the claws, figuring, I guess, if I could attain one ninja skill it might as well be the one shared by lumberjacks, phone-line workers and multiple other non-threatening types around the globe. Unfortunately, the ninja's time was coming to an end, and I never got the claws...

THE FALL

Suddenly (Or was it gradually? Really, who can remember?) the ninja began to slide in popularity. Were they overexposed? The victims of a conspiracy? Assassinated? All equally plausible.

Movies began to feature them more in the role of the faceless thug or henchman, rather than hero. Portrayed as disposable, easily stopped and numbering in the thousands. Often dispatched by a muscular white guy armed with stubble and a pair of Ray-Bans.

The rise of the Ultimate Fighting Championship was a further assault, putting forth the idea that, uh, maybe ninjitusu wasn't the most lethal (or practical) way of dispatching another man in one-on-one combat.

Eventually people even dared to mock the once proud, lethal tradition, further eroding the ninja's place atop the bad-ass pyramid. Causing them to tumble down to the bottom level, a spot also occupied by Knights of the Round Table, bodybuilders and guys named Ox.

However it happened, when you look around today you don't see many kids idolizing ninjas. NFL players, pirates, jerks even... not ninjas.

And now, the DEATHBLOW.

What a sad, sad day for the former elite... Some suburban slob, ripping off houses on Staten Island, dubbed the "Ninja Bandit." Tsk.

Ahh that brings me back. Fondly recalling all those legendary ninja moments when they'd slip through a sliding glass door, leave it open, and run off with a handful of QVC jewelry.

At least he's using a traditional ninja weapon. Myself, I've never been able to swing a pair without visibly cringing in anticipation of the self-inflicted face shot that never failed to arrive.

The fact that he's not a true ninja, but is using the nunchucks does open him up for counter-attack by weapons superior to the nunchucks. Namely, EVERY OTHER WEAPON, ever. Club, stick, longer stick, gun, rock, mace, other kind of mace... To be fair, though, according to another report, he's already survived one stabbing attempt. So, he's doing better than I would've.

The final indicator that we're dealing with an phony... Locking doors would be useless against a true ninja.

THE REBIRTH?

Sure, things look bleak for our shadow-dwelling pals, but all is not lost. In fact, their most humbling hour may have unwittingly given them the opportunity for their greatest triumph. To return to their former glory, one thing has to happen.

An actual ninja must find and destroy this bandit.

Leaving him trussed-up in a hanging net for all to see. Once again striking fear into the hearts of imposters, comedians and filmmakers across the land. An example must be made, the Ninja Bandit must fall.

Get the word out, their time is once again here. I leave it to you, America. Put the ninja back where he belongs... in your nightmares!



TheCoolerKing owns one razer-sharp shuriken that he'll occasionally take out and look at... while wondering if there's more he should be doing with it. Then he puts it away until the next time he remembers it exists.