Mosher is running a poll on whether or not we think we should have the right to brain anyone who breaks in and tries to nick your telly (I’m with the anything short of murder side of this debate) and he admits to keeping a wakizashi by his bed which reminded me of one of those cute kid stories we parents have about our offspring. So if things like the Mail’s ‘Out of the Mouths of Babes’ makes you feel queasy, hit the back button now.
It was a few years ago when I took the chicks for a day out at the Leeds Armouries, an interesting place to visit if you’re into that sort of thing, but a bugger to drive back from in the rush hour on the M62.
One of the displays featured Samurai swords and alongside was a tv screen showing a video of how they were made. It was very detailed and young Master P watched in silence — he was in his weapons of up-close-and-personal destruction phase — and I didn’t think his interest would last, but it did.
They showed how the steel was flattened and wrapped over and over, or whatever it is they call it, to create the perfect blade, or ‘tang,’ by the master sword maker. When he was finally satisfied with his work, he signed the tang, etching his name in Japanese characters.
A rapt Master P looked up at this point and asked, “What’s that say, dad? Made in Japan?”
Okay, you at the back, I heard that groan! You were warned.