Why's this incomplete?

OK, so as you've noticed this blog is very fragmented and incomplete...see the thing is I'm finding it hard to get the time to write down everything that's been going on.  I've been so distracted by the whole experience and wonder of this place and so my time has been spent exploring and discovering rather than processing and downloading my thoughts...but now that school has started, I can try again to do this blog like I planned to...so there's more to come, but I figured if I just posted some of what I have, it'll get the momentum going!

Chorus of Sniffing

During my first few days of riding the trains in Tokyo, the weather was a bit on the cold side and a lot of people had runny noses. As I made my way to Sophia, I was holding onto the hand rails of one of the trains, just listening and observing, taking in the experience of the life of a commuter. Then my ears caught the sound of someone sniffing. I looked over at a man in a black suit with a white mask over his mouth. He must have been wearing the mask to keep everyone from getting his germs; how thoughtful of him. But then I heard more sniffing, and as I focused my hearing further, I realized that there was a consistent repetition of sniffs. Here and there, all over the train car people were sniffing. Yet the thing I didn't hear was anyone blowing their nose. They just kept sniffing, trying to keep everything in, while gravity kept frustrating their efforts. I remembered hearing from one of my International Relations T.A.s that in Korea it's rude to blow your nose in public. I wonder if the same is true in Japan? Although I have been in a ramen shop and the guy right next to me blew his nose rather loudly and no one else in the shop looked at him in offense. I have seen a few other instances where someone has done something that I heard was rude to do, but none of the other Japanese appeared to think it was. So my guess is that in Japan, it's all about context. They aren't narrow-mindedly following a cultural norm no matter where they go or what situation they're in; most of their customs originate in a desire to be thoughtful of others and to help society function more efficiently as a whole.

On reading a Japanese story set in the old pleasure quarters of Edo

Perhaps the reason why the stereotype of the Japanese housewife as a boring individual unable to please her husband is because, left alone at home there is little intellectual stimulation for her mind.  The same goes with common male laborers; it has nothing to do with one's sex!  And because the ancient Japanese courtesans were trained in the arts - poetry and music, etc - they were far more appealing to Japanese men than their dull, timid housewives.  No wonder they frequented the pleasure quarter so often.  It wasn't only bodily lust, but it was intellectual lust as well.  Be sure that your wife doesn't only stimulate you physically with her appearance but also mentally with her intellect and fascinating personality.  And she needs hobbies to keep her spirit bright and alive; if all she does is household chores, her dreams and spirits will dim for lack of use.  The woman that you fall in love with and marry should be nurtured as she is and watered so that she grows and blooms more beautiful.  A wife is not a wild flower that you pick because you admire it's beauty, then just leave it lying around to decay.  Instead, you need to pull it up from the roots carefully and put it in your personal garden to nurture and care for it, then enjoy watching her flourish as you lavishly pour your love upon her.

Note: this is a thought fragment, people!  Not a well researched theoretical essay, so don't get all irascible if you mistakenly think I'm a misogynist or something...I don't have time to be politically correct and account for every possible way you might interpret what I write...

Beauty from Afar

Somehow it seems that only in silent removal of myself from everything can I appreciate the beauty of things.  The touching scenes of a movie have nothing to do with me.  And I did not give a flower it's beauty.  These are all far beyond my reach.  So what then is beauty that involves me in it?  And can I sense it without withdrawing from it?

Railroad Crossings

The bells keep ringing, warning of death...and they ring throughout this city: death!  death!  ご注意！ It's no wonder I smell the stench of fear...

Beauty

If the majestic was meant to be impersonal, why do we so desire beauty?