Now I know this is pretty much common knowledge to everyone living in Japan or interested in Japan (particularly the Yakuza), but Ryoichi Sugiura, 43 years old and a very high ranking Yakuza member of Tokyo based Sumiyoshi-kai was shot and killed in his car in Tokyo by a rival Yakuza gang in broad daylight on Monday.

Apparently, however, a truce has already been announced after a string of shootings at doors and windows in which nobody was killed, or even harmed. This shooting at rival gangs doors and windows is "the trademark of underworld retaliation."(Japan Times)

Now I don't know about anywhere else in the world, but having your doors and windows shot out in some places in the States can be chalked up to "having a bad day." And in the world of gang warfare, its most likely considered "a terrible shot." Not that I'm saying the Yakuza is soft for announcing a truce after busting a couple of windows, but it just seems to me that a little destruction of private property and the life of a mob boss are not exactly comparable.

How boring would "Scarface" have been if gangs in America worked under the same principal? Or even, "The Princess Bride", not a "gang" movie at all, but certainly a lesson for all of us in proper retaliation...

My name is Anigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to have your doors and windows destroyed.

Just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? No, nothing quite raises the hairs on the back of the neck as well as "prepare to die."

Now, I'm not saying that I wish violence upon anyone, but like any good child of the 90s, raised on the likes of "Casino" and "Scarface", "Goodfellas" and the countless other gang flicks out there, I am fascinated by the promise of a good gang war. After all the newspapers were promising serious retaliation and the probability of Tokyo being riddled in gunfire reminiscent of NYC circa 1920, I've got to admit, I was pretty damned excited to see how it would all play out. Not that I'm complaining about peace, though. I'm sure somewhere, the peace loving hippies in all of us are rejoicing.

But just across the room from that celebrating hippy, there is proabably also a young kid, his face smeared in chocolate, gripping his plastic orange tipped tommy-gun, and sulking at the unfairness of the world, because all he wanted was to see a full scale Kill-Bill style Yakuza gang war, but he never gets his way. His retaliation? You guessed it. A baseball through the window.