English Teachers Harming Korea, Again

This time kind it's actually kind of true, and not an exaggeration in the media about drugs/sex/pederasts/etc., though it's no fault of the teachers in question.

An English teacher brought swine flu with her into the country not too long ago, hung out with a bunch of other waegukins, and they all wound up being put in quarantine. You can read their blog about their ongoing ordeal here.

And here's another one.

Roger and Me

Hey! HEY! Look over here! You're not going to be distracted from my witty musings by some soft core porn, are you?

Seriously, I searched google images for "star trek" and that was one of the first images that popped up. So, I thought, why not? Besides, it's a shame Enterprise was canceled just as it was hitting its stride.

But I digress. The point of this post is thus: I have come here to bury Star Trek, not to praise it. As far as I can tell, in the near future, the Star Trek that we pasty corpulent bug-eyed geeks loved a little too much, well, that Star Trek is dead. Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek is long gone.

I saw the movie. I saw it the first day it came out, in one of the first screenings. I couldn't wait to jump into it. And for the first 30 minutes or so, I was really digging it.

But then something stupid happened. Then another fortuitous dodge, another lucky duck, another chase scene, another witty line dropped perfectly post-action scene-climax, another wink at the camera, another unBElievable coincidence, another shot of the inarticulate brooding villain in his cavernous pointy Death Star, another Ewok scene (yes, by Zeus' beard there's an actual Ewok in this movie (Scotty's sidekick)), another shot of Winona Ryder attempting to emote...and...I'd had enough.

This is an action movie. Don't get me wrong, I like action movies. I like action movies because they're an excuse to have a carefree 2 hours and down a bucket of popcorn. But Star Trek is supposed to be something more than that. It is supposed to have a message. Yeah, that means it won't always be as popular as franchises like Star Wars or Die Hard. But it will be better. And by trying to blend those two popular film series and slapping the name "Star Trek" on the regurgitated steaming pile of excrement you've produced, you're devaluing the series overall. And that pisses me off.

Yes, I'm a geek, and yes there's a great Onion story that essentially zings me (see below), but at least I'm not completely alone in this view. Roger Ebert essentially agrees with me (or less presumptively, I with him). So I guess I'll have to take solace in that.


Trekkies Bash New Star Trek Film As 'Fun, Watchable'

Uh, the universe is an awesome place

I've always said I want to live forever, not because I think I deserve to or that my extended lifetime would contribute anything more to humanity or posterity or whatever. It's for purely selfish reasons: I hate thinking about all the cool shit I'm gonna miss out on after I'm gone.

I just know that the day after I get smacked by a bus the Vulcans are gonna drop by to say hi, or scientists will invent some sort of consciousness-saving machine, or we'll finally have a fat free yogurt that doesn't skimp on flavor.

Articles like this one only reinforce this notion. An unimaginably vast entity/mass/something that's sucking the rest of the universe towards it just beyond the cosmic horizon? This is the first I'm hearing of something so unbelievably fucking cool. It makes you wonder what else is out there. And notice how the author speculates wildly about what it could be:

"the dark flow theory hints that this mass, or super structure, could be anything from another universe to a realm of whimsical fancy whose physics, forces and warped space-time are completely beyond any of us. Unicorns, flying cars, cats and dogs living in harmony, you name it and it could be true, as we'll never, ever make it there to find out first hand."

That is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about. I just know that in ten generations or so people're gonna be zipping around in their personal spaceships out to X Zone for a weekend of hedonism limited only by their imaginations while I'll be maggot meat.

But I suppose I should count my blessings. Think of all the things I have now that they lacked 10 generations ago. And most of what I take for granted today would have been inconceivable and frankly terrifying to someone from the distant past. Remember how when they showed the first movie in that Paris theater the people ran screaming for their lives out of the building because they thought the train was going to come out of the screen and crush them? Who knows what kind of hilarious freak out I'd have were I to encounter the technology of the distant future?

No one. And no one ever will. Tear.

According to "Protect a Cow"

Bob Dylan is an occultist and either an ally or a pawn of the Illuminati who promotes alcoholism and "cow murder." Thank the stars for youtube, the crazies finally have their forum. Check out this video and don't miss the last 10 seconds, they're the best part.

Hello, I'm Deathnote

This article about the popularity of English names among the English-speaking Chinese was interesting, I thought.

Basically English names persist because a) non-Chinese speakers find most Chinese names impossible to pronounce and b) they're viewed as "cool" for a variety of complex cultural reasons.

I've never liked the whole English name trend, and I prefer to address my students and anyone else I meet by their real name, whether I butcher its pronunciation or not. Fortunately Korean names, for me at least, are a lot easier to pronounce than their Chinese counterparts.

The author briefly touched on how so many Asians with English names make bizarre choices and stick with them even after being counseled that their appellation of choice sounds ridiculous to the native ear. That's certainly true. When I was in China, I taught a moon faced girl named "Ocean" and a shifty eyed boy named "Flea." The strangest name a student ever had, tho, was "Deathnote," pronounced "Deasuh-nosuh" by Koreans. I just can't see anyone with that sort of English name rising to be a CEO or Senator someday.

I am so totally not a racist, but...

...is there anything that strikes you as funny about this video?

"Don't worry, I am rich!"

My boss is a nice and decent guy, which by hagwon standards makes him a frikkin saint. I have absolutely no (serious) complaints so far which is pretty amazing. Appraising a hagwon as such is similar to saying the same about an airport - to have no complaints is about the highest praise which can be given.

His English is also pretty good, and if we were again to apply typical hagwon standards that would make him a savant amongst his peers. He has a meeting with S (the other waegukin teacher) and I every week in which he lays out the upcoming schedule and we go over any problems or issues. This meeting always happens on Monday, which was today.

Today's meeting was like a good, new song: familiar but also different. He again reiterated that we were both doing a good job and that there have been no real complaints from mothers of late (which astonishes me every time I hear it, knowing as I do how prickly Korean mothers can be and how susceptible they are to the exaggerations of their delinquent offspring). He also reemphasized that the Korean economy continues to suffer and because of that many parents are pulling their kids out of hagwons to help make ends meet. He even provided a worrisome factoid to drive home that point - our school currently has an "enrollment" of about 150 students, the lowest level since its founding 6 years ago.

This detail provided, he segued into a lengthy digression during which he tried to reassure the quiescient S, and the similarly demeanored I, that our jobs and the position of the school were secure. Naturally this automatically caused me to wonder if the school is indeed solvent or if I am soon to have something else in common with those throngs of recently-laid off Wall Street bankers other than the fact that women find us irresistible. Visions of the 100,000 word Newsweek article I read this weekend about Bernie Madoff insisting up until the very end that all was well flashed through my head. But Mr. Kim was persistent, and quite long winded, and there's something to be said for numbing the minds of your inferiors with near-endless blather, after all it worked for Hitler. And he even at one point blurted out a hearty "don't worry, I'm rich!" which was both reassuring and amusing, kinda like a holiday Far Side cartoon.

Not that I'm worried, I'd land another job easily here. But to quote Marge Simpson: "I've dug myself into a nice little rut here." And I like it.

VenomFangX and Inevitability

I stumbled on this guy's videos on youtube via a long ago "debate" he had with a vlogger I've watched a few times, the subtly named "Amazing Atheist." I thought he was a smarmy idiot and I wrote him an email telling him so, but I have to admit I also clicked "subscribe" at the same time. I wanted to see what else he'd get up to.

The answer hasn't surprised me, and really, considering the fact that he's youtube's version of a televangelist, it was inevitable. Feel free to waste time watching this video in which he, shock!, talks about all the money he's making:



Notice how he cleverly defends stealing from a bunch of idiotic well-wishers to fund his bullshit ministry. "Oh, I only asked for $1, but...ok, if you WANT to give me $500, well, God bless you" etc etc. If this guy had only been born a coupla thousand years earlier he'd probably have churches built in his honor today.

A typical VenomFangX fan:


I love what she does with her arms!

Rice Tards

I feel I must link to this post.

Rice Tard. Ha.

The Story of My Life

Holy Shit, There's Another Dylan Album Coming Out

Why didn't anyone tell me? This came as a shock to me.


Of course I'm excited to hear new Dylan stuff, but I have to admit I'm a little ambivalent about this. Modern Times, his last record, was a frikkin masterpiece, as were the two that preceded it, Love & Theft and Time Out of Mind. Eternal skeptic that I am, I'm a little worried about whether or not the master can keep this going. Will this new album be another "Slow Train Coming" or another "Under the Red Sky?" (To non Dylanologists, that means, will this be a unique but successful album or a uniquely terrible one?)

Anyway I'm looking forward to finding out for myself.

Update: well I've listened to the pre-release single, which you can hear here, and I love it. Hope springs eternal. Love the accordion.

The Force Is Strong With This One

I saw this guy's videos on youtube and thought I'd share. He pretty much sums up my feelings on Star Wars better than anyone else I've ever heard. Enjoy:

Korean Students Are Some of the Best in the World at Math

Here's why:

Facebook and Birthdays

It was my birthday last week. Don't worry, I didn't care either.

I'm still young, but I'm getting to the point where birthdays are no longer a cause for celebration.

"Has it been ANOTHER year already?" I've asked myself on the birthday eves of recent years during which the impact of the day is considered.

And nowadays, not only do you have to deal with the real life stresses of the anniversary of your birth, but you also have to deal with all the goddamn facebook well-wishers.

I deliberately removed my birthday from my account several months ago, in the hopes that the day would pass unnoticed, and there were still a dozen of so people who were compelled to wish me a happy day. Here's a message to facebook birthday whores: fuck off.

I don't want to hear from you. I'm not going to wish you a happy birthday on your page when your day rolls around. I don't care about your birthday and I'll thank you to return the favor. If I see you in real life, and it's your birthday, I'm happy to wish you the best. But via facebook? Nope.

And now comes the worst part. I have to write insipid little thank you notes to all of these goons. Every fucking one of 'em. If I skip over ONE PERSON, then I guarandamntee you that person will be super offended.

"Why did he thank janie and not me?" judie will ask herself. And then she'll cry her fat little face to sleep.

It's times like these that make me want to abandon it all and get a shack in the woods, Kacyznski-style.

The Funniest Video on the Internet

After hours and hours of research, I've finally found it. Here it is:

I am proud of my ears today

Tho I'm 26, and knocking on 27's door, and 28 in Korean age, I passed the teenager annoying noise test:

Created by Train Horns

Takeshima is an Island in the Sea of Japan

Waitwaitwait...god help me if any Korean should read that title. What I meant to write was "Dokdo is an island in the East Sea." A thousand mianhaeyos.

Let me take the time to get our international readers and uninformed Korean residents up to speed. You see, (some) Koreans have a tendency to go to extremes in defending against what they perceive to be slights against their national...er, what's the word?...image, I guess. And there is nothing that fires 'em up more than the Liancourt Rocks, to use the neutral appellation. You can read about their dispute with the evil Japanese here, and also look at lots of pretty pictures, which is of course much better than reading.

The article was published in the Boston Herald and what I really loved about reading it were the comments, from presumably Korea-ignorant Bostonites, about how crazy all the Korean protesters are. It comforts me to know that impartial observers can validate my own perceptions here inside the bubble. Let me quote Baffled:

"Wait. What? Some random citizens chopped off their fingers to protest an international debate over ownership of these islands? Like, how the heck is that a "protest"? I mean, I could understand donating money to the cause, or joining the military, or protesting outside the Japanese embassy, or writing letters to world leaders or newspapers or whatever.

But decapitating birds and lopping off your own body parts? That's just a major wtf. I mean...how does that convince anyone of, well, anything? "Hey, you Japanese! Yeah, you guys! You better give up those islands or else I'm going to chop my leg off next! That will teach you not to mess with us!"

If I was a Japanese strategist I'd set up bingo games with my co-bureaucrats, timed with Japanese press releases, as to what body part we could induce people to chop off. "Left big toe? Bingo!""

Sick Again

Yes! By virtue of the dubious gift of a decade old computer from my boss and the visit of, as he put it, the "Internet KT engineer," I have private internet access again. Which means I can, for the first time in 6 months or so, renew my addiction to all of the internet's glory.

First among these addictions is youtube, of course, and since I've spent the past 3 or 4 hours of this lonely Valentine's day watching old favorites and new unseen videos on the site, I thought I'd post one of my favorites.

The first part of a debate between one of my favorite modern philosophers, Christopher Hitchens, and his most capable and articulate opponent, Dinesh D'Souza, on the new and rarely talked about question of "Does God exist?":

Super Bowl Imnida

I woke up bright and early this morning at 10 AM to catch the second half of the big game, and I'm glad I did. I was pulling for the Cardinals to get the upset but the Steelers deserved the win just as much as they did, and it was a great finish.

I was watching the Korean language broadcast and enjoyed both the overenthusiasm of the play by play man (every time there was a catch, even for 2 or 3 yards, he'd scream "DROP PASS") and the announcers' obsession with Heinz Ward, who's half Korean. Ever since he won the Super Bowl MVP in 05, he's become a Korean hero, even tho before this happened my guess is that nary a Korean national had ever heard of him.

What was funny is that he didn't really do anything important in the game, and yet they'd mention his name over and over again. My Korean skilz are still definitely lacking, but this is how I imagine it went:

Dude 1: Rothelsburge (sp) back for the pass.

Dude 2: Oh, Smith is open! He throws....

Dude 1: SHORT PASS!

Dude 2: 1st down!

Dude 1: That was a great play. And they couldn't have done it without Heinz Ward blocking on the other side of the field.

Dude 2: Definitely. Heinz Ward was instrumental in that play.

Dude 1: Yes, yes Heinz Ward was. Heinz Ward was important in that play. Heinz Ward.

....

Where's the Tin? Wuxi Be Damned (Part 1)

Well, I've said some nice things, now's the fun part: wailing on the city that gratiously accommodated me for the past 5 months like it was a disobedient Iraqi prisoner. Problems I had during my Wuxi experience:


The co-workers - man have I been waiting to talk shit about these guys. First, I want to make it clear, that I had no problem with my Chinese co-workers. They weren't the chattiest or friendliest bunch but they were more or less sane and helpful. My problem was with the other laowais (foreigners) employed by my school...

My students were enrolled in a German sponsored program designed to eventually send capable students abroad to study business and earn a bachelor's degree in said field. As such, throughout the semester we cycled through a roster of guest lecturers, predominantly Germans, and predominantly crazy. As Matt Damon would remind us, there were some good Germans. R., who was there for the first two months or so of my contract, was a decent well-balanced normal fella with whom I shared many a beer. The Sirens, as I ironically thought of them, were three attractive and normal-acting gentle-ladies of my own demographic who were also committed to taciturnity, unlike their namesakes. And there were some older fellas who seemed perfectly fine, but with the exception of an interesting half-hour discussing the blitzkrieg with one guy who was 70 or so I didn't interact with them much.

But then we come to the crazies. M, who was a German of Korean ancestry, and whom R had talked up and later introduced me to eagerly (since we shared a Korea connection) was fucking batshit crazy. At first I thought he was just one of those insecure people who talk too much about themselves, and who're commonly encountered among expatriate circles. But I think it was when he and I were walking down the street, cross current through a river of motor-bikes, and I made some innocent comment about being annoyed by all of them, and he then jumped in the air and with a way too loud "hee-YAH!" tried to dropkick the next bike that crossed our path, I think it was then that I knew he was crazy...

Then there was T, whose passions included talking about himself, talking about history, talking about anything basically. Imagine it's a sub-zero early morning. Imagine our hero, underdressed, shivering, waiting outside at the bus stop for the university's bus to take him to work. Imagine T, an even slighter, portlier fellow than our hobbit-like central character, at his elbow. Imagine 30 minutes have passed by in this Siberian purgatory, and Anthony is trying to hail a cab because it doesn't seem the bus will ever come. Frostbitten toes and fingers. A noseless future. Cold that makes me curse myself for ever damning the sultry sufferings of summer. And T is following me around like a guardian angel, totally ignoring the crisis at hand, and together with the cold talking my fucking ear off about the 7 year's war. This guy never shut up. Never ever ever. I can see him now, a doomed 3rd class passenger in the bowels of the sinking Titanic, consoling sobbing co-passengers with his thoughts about sauerkraut.

There was also Mr. S, who I more or less grew to like but who bugged the hell out of me at first. He was the other English teacher, and was a native Mauritian with Canadian residency. He'd lived an interesting life it seemed: he had published several books about Mauritius, served in its foreign service, and traveled extensively. He was also much older than I, and tho he couldn't hold a candle to T, he too was no stranger to over-speaking and seemed to be an expert in everything. He claimed to be a trained hypnotherapist, and insinuated several times that he would be happy to put me under to cure whatever ailed me. He believed in past lives, and his wife, D (who I only met once) was a renowned psychic (supposedly). (When I asked her to read my palm, all she would commit to was that I had a hard time holding onto money - which is certainly true, but considering that I was on my 5th or 6th $7 jack and coke at that point I remain dubious.) He also claimed to be a Christian, and when he finally squeezed it out of me that I was an atheist he kept bringing up issues of faith over and over again. He wore sunglasses inside almost all of the time, and a ring with an oversized purple gem on it constantly. He had more children than a Catholic prince, and all seemed to have accomplished great things - one was a brilliant doctor, one was the former Miss Mauritius, that sort of thing. But as I said I grew to like him, well, that's going too far...let's say I grew to dread his company less and less.

There were others, but I've covered the two I loathed the most, and Mr. S who was arguably the most intersting, and in so doing have expended more words than they merit. More Wuxi negativity to come.