Just Another Manic Monday


I have yet to understand why it is that Japanese people give me so much produce. Do I seem to lack a healthy balance of vitamins and minerals? I know I'm thinning a little on top, but I would like to think that people could just tell me I look sickly without resorting to produce insinuation. You know it's bad when you go to get kerosene at the gas station and the woman gives you a cabbage.

JD got me thinking about fascism today, and it struck me how completely disconnected we are from such concerns as fascism and rascism and barbarism and cubism and how lighly we take them anymore. Of course, what westerners complain of in passing Japan always manages to take to the Nth degree. The world turns, and the growing unrest in East Asia continues not to disturb us, so long as those crazy Chinese keep churning out the sneakers and plastic toys we love so much.

Just so today isn't a downer, I'll leave you with a little poetry care of Yosano Akiko (and to a lesser extent, me).

髪五尺ときなば水にやはらかき少女ごころは秘めて放たじ (みだれ髪 3)

as she loosens her 5-foot hair it becomes soft in the water,
though, her maiden's heart she keeps tied up