About my Samurai Travels Through America series.
People see a samurai talking about chips and salsa and assume the goal must have been realism, journalism, or persuasion.
For me it was none of those things.
The foundation was comedy.
A lot of Japanese comedy starts with an obviously ridiculous premise and then commits to it completely. You take something absurd and refuse to break character. The audience understands the premise is impossible, and the humor comes from watching the character apply that worldview to ordinary situations.
That was the samurai.
A man from a completely different time trying to understand chain restaurants, diners, parking lots, free refills, and all the small things that modern Americans barely notice anymore.
To a Japanese audience, that setup is immediately recognizable as comedy.
What I did not expect is that many Americans seemed to react less to the joke itself and more to the feeling behind it.
One thing that may be difficult to explain is the role comedy plays in Japan.
Of course we laugh because things are funny.
But comedy is also a way of dealing with everyday life.
Life is difficult. Prices go up. People worry about work, family, money, health, and the future.
So there is a tendency to look for small moments of humor, gratitude, absurdity, or beauty in ordinary life.
People often try to make each other laugh not because life is easy, but because it is difficult.
I think that mindset influenced these posts more than people realize.
I was not trying to expose anyone.
I was not trying to embarrass anyone.
I was not trying to convince anyone of a political position.
I was trying to take ordinary things and look at them from a strange angle.
The surprising part is what happened next.
I expected people to laugh.
Instead, people started talking about their grandparents, their hometown restaurants, childhood memories, road trips, first jobs, favorite diners, and places that no longer exist.
At some point I realized many people were no longer talking about my posts.
They were talking about their own lives.
That was never part of the original plan.
The original joke was simply that a confused samurai had arrived in modern America.
What seems to have happened is that some readers used that outsider's perspective to look again at parts of American life they had stopped noticing.
Whether that was because of nostalgia, affection, pride, or something else, I honestly don't know.
I'm still trying to understand it myself.
The idea itself is actually very old.
Take an impossible character.
Place him in an ordinary situation.
Then see what happens.
That's all it was.
I expected comedy.
I did not expect nostalgia.
I certainly did not expect 150,000 new followers in a week.
But that's what happened.
And thank you all for enjoying it.
I'll keep the samurai wandering around America a little while longer.
Although, after getting carried away and posting nearly 100 times a day, absolutely nothing started going viral anymore. 😂
X is genuinely difficult.
One week: +150,000 followers.
The next week: 5,000 impressions and double-digit likes.
Incredible technology. Nobody understands how it works.
The morning sun found me again at the House of Waffles. Beside me, a man spoke a string of foreign sounds to the cook, who instantly understood.
"Scattered, smothered, covered," he said.
That is not food. That is an incantation. Three words, spoken without fear, and the kitchen MOVED.
I studied the menu. The spell has more verses. Chunked. Diced. Peppered. Capped. Topped. Country. Eight sacred words, and you may combine them, and the grill obeys.
In my land, we have tea ceremonies that take four years to learn. America has the hash brown liturgy, and truckers are its priests.
I attempted it. I gripped the counter.
"Scattered," I began. "Smothered. And, forgive me, covered."
"You don't gotta apologize to the potatoes, hon."
I did, though. One must respect any power one does not yet understand.
The cook called my words back in the order I spoke them, like a vow being witnessed. Then the man beside me leaned over.
"First time?"
"Is it so obvious?"
"You bowed at 'covered.'"
I confess it freely. I bowed to hash browns. They arrived scattered, smothered, covered, and I understood at once why the words exist. The dish is too mighty for a single noun.
A spell does not reward the loud. It rewards the precise.
I am learning the remaining verses. One per visit. The day I order all eight at once, I ask only that someone be there to witness it.
Diced is next. I have been practicing in the car.
I once sat at a table in the southland when a woman spoke a word that felt like a sudden embrace, though I had done nothing to earn it.
"What can I get y'all?"
Y'all. I knew the word from television. I did not know it could HOLD people. My friends ordered. I sat there, freshly contained, working out what I had just been counted into.
In Japan, inclusion is earned slowly. Years of shared seasons before a group says "we" and means you. This woman did it in one syllable, between refills, without checking my paperwork.
"You good, hon?" she asked.
"You included me."
"In what?"
"In y'all."
She looked at my friends. My friends looked at the table. "He's from Japan," one offered, as if that explained it, because it did.
"Well," she said, "y'all want biscuits or not?"
TWICE. Contained twice in one minute. The biscuits arrived and I ate them as a member.
I have since studied the grammar. Y'all: two or more souls, bound. All y'all: an entire room, gathered into one word like rice into one bowl. There are scholars who say "all y'all" is excessive. Those scholars have never needed a word big enough for everyone they love.
"Y'all come back now," she said when we left.
We. I am a we, in Tennessee.
A word does not ask permission to include you. It opens like a door, and you are already inside.
I am practicing saying it. My accent makes it formal, "you all", which my friends say defeats the purpose. The purpose survives. The purpose is everyone.
TEXAS SENATE RACE: Senator Cornyn has repeatedly proposed amnesty for illegal aliens. If we get a Democrat in the White House in 2028 he will almost certainly agree to support an amnesty bill. We need Ken Paxton in DC to fight the open border madness.
🧵🚨 MINNEAPOLIS SIGNAL INFILTRATED
I have infiltrated organizational signal groups all around Minneapolis with the sole intention of tracking down federal agents and impeding/assaulting/and obstructing them.
BUCKLE UP ALL WILL BE REVEALED
Each area of the city has a signal or several signals. Let’s start with a screen recording of all members of the south side group to start.
🚨 JUST IN: NEW POV FOOTAGE released of the Minneapolis ICE agent that shot and killed woman who tried to run him over with her vehicle
He was DIRECTLY IN FRONT of the car as she floored it, you can hear the engine rev up
The agent then discharged his firearm.
CLEAR CUT, CASE CLOSED self defense right here.
The more video is released, the more it's obvious the Left LIED and is wrong. I stand with ICE.
📽️ @AlphaNews
@catturd2 “The punishment doesn’t fit the crime”
Lady, the punishment exactly fits the crime.
The crime is entering the country without permission.
The punishment is making you leave the country.
That’s it.
That’s the whole punishment.