korea's road sign madness

earlier in this aetherspace of nonsensical rambling, i once referenced korea's--and, indeed, most of asia's--obsession with learning english (click here to refresh your memory and then scroll down to "english, the beautiful language"). it is as crazy here in korea as it is anywhere else in the non-english-speaking spectacle that is the majority of this planet.

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on a recent jaunt around the mountains near gangneung here in gangwon province, we came across korea's attempts to make themselves appear learned in the field of english, and it was met with devastatingly humourous results:

here are two signs, one above and one below, meant to warn drivers of impending climbing lanes about either to begin or end as the road went up and up toward higher elevations. the one above, which we saw first, sent us into bouts of laughter at the amazing lack of proofreading. not two minutes later did we see the same sign as above with the same spelling mistake (a g instead of a b in the word climbing). we couldn't believe our eyes at the same mistake's being made twice! the third sign we passed as we climbed this mountain road had everything spelled correctly, which abated our hysteria a bit...

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however, the abatement didn't last long...

not only did was climbing spelled wrong again, it was spelled differently from the first mistake: this time, a d had replaced the b in climbing!

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as funny as these mistakes were, it would have been funnier had the korean also been wrong, but, alas, the korean in these signs was impeccable.

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however, this didn't end the road sign madness. no, there was more to come.

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it has been noted here and in other places that the korean government--and on a different scale, any korean or koreans who are in any type of authorative position, be it boss, prominent committee member, teacher, parent, nightclub owner, etc.--usually treats the rest of the segment of the population whom they are allegedly "serving" as a mangled mob of idiots who can't think for themselves. it's an age old deviation of the question of which comes first, the chicken or the egg: which came first, koreans' stupid, blind loyalty to all things authoritarian or the thought by those in authority that the rest of the people are stupid and should be blindly loyal?

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too, as korea has been for centuries at the crossroads of marauding cultures--the japanese, fast food, the chinese, the ancient mongols, the american military, the hello kitty phenomenon, the internet and all things wireless, bad fashion, to name a few--upon their peninsula and collective psyche, koreans are very skittish, very patriotic, and very concerned about defending its borders, all of which the korean government takes advantage of in the ugliest and most pathetic ways.

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when these two above factors--blind loyalty and collective skittish patriotism--are combined, one sees humourous reminders everywhere to the korean people of such phenomena, such as the following:

~a sign on a moving sidewalk to remind passengers that when the moving sidewalk comes to an end, passengers must disembark because they will be unable to continue riding once the platform has disappeared underground;

~at the beach, no swimming out past the marked "swimming area" because it's harder to swim if you can't touch the bottom (and neglecting to mention the huge sand bar just past the buoys where the water is, maybe, shoulder-high, at most, even on a korean);

~men in rest area urinals should stand with their right foot slightly forward so as to avoid splattering their piss upon themselves;

~no swimming or sunbathing on areas of the beach that are fenced in with barbed wire because you might be shot at;

~don't feed the chickens flocking around the window of the men's urinal at another rest stop;

~tanks 30 tons or less are allowed access across the bridge;

~be careful not to drive your car into the river;

~please visit the potato breeding station on your visit to yong-pyoung ski resort (i have got to have a photo of this particular one to prove to you readers that it exists!!!);

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if one travels the expressways of korea, one will miss most of these hilariously beckoning signs (except at the rest areas) or these hideously-spelled attempts to beware the mountain roads or the beauty that is korea and her people.

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one must take the time--well worth it, mind you--to take the back roads, the often poorly-maintained state or provincial roads, amidst mind-blowing scenery, through wonderful small towns, and introducing you to the wonderfully nice people who are always so amazed to see foreigners, especially ones who speak their language and eat what would be considered surprising for foreigners to eat.

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it's a treat to see this side of korea--it lends a break to the negativity and cynicism that often seems to pervade korean city life and, too, a foreigner's view of fast-paced korea--but just don't forget to take your eyes off the mountains, fields, rivers, flowers, trees, hills, people, and food for a moment every once in a while...

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...so you can catch a road sign that will bring a smile to your face, regardless of your mood.

the winter borympics

is it just me or have the olympics--both summer and winter--become so dull that we'd rather watch a three-toed sloth sleep in a bucket of slow-drying glue than watch this "grandest" of all sports spectacles?

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i mean, the stories in this year's borympics have bordered on being homicidally boring. now, let me qualify this with an admission: i started to become immune to the borympics about a decade or more ago; i can't say i've had more than a passing interest in the borympics since the '92 barcelona games. since that time, the only sport in winter's borympics that has me even remotely pausing in the sports section to inspect has been men's ice hockey--and it's still true in this year's "cloud of turin" borympics:

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short track speedskating (so popular here in korea)? give me a break. it's more fun to watch elementary school kids fall down stairs.

figure skating of any kind? you must be joking. watch a sport that makes the 2000 u.s. presidential election look legal and fair?

any sort of skiing? surely, you jest. grant support to a sport in which routinely only upper class snobs participate? i'd rather help a politician make payments on his bentley or rolls.

luge, bobsled, skeleton? you must be sober. just give me a cookie-baking sheet, a moderately-sized hill, and a bottle of absinthe and i could re-create the breakneck speed and back-breaking crashes so ubiquitous in these events.

biathlon? what's that you say? take seriously a sport that dick cheney would sweep the medals in?

snowboarding? okay, this does appeal to my surfing sensibilities, but it's still a sport for the rich, spoiled, and ignorant. actually participating? yes; watching on tv and cheering for my country's athletes? uh, no.

curling? again, you must not be drinking enough. two reasons why this is a joke: 1--with a name like "curling", beer is not part of the required equipment? 2--if it's a sport for which i could qualify easily, then it's truly not a sport. might as well add golf to the summer borympics.

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aside from the sporting events, what i hate about the borympics is the media hype, the farcical decisions made pertaining to events, the bad sportsmanship, and just general dumbassness:

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bode miller, drinker or skier? you'd think this guy was a serial murderer just because he admitted to having a drink from time to time before going down the slopes with all the media-bashing he's faced.

the two american male speedskaters who are waging a cowardly war of words in the media. what a couple of flowered panties these two are. neither of them has big enough stones to face each other man-to-man and beat the differences out of one another.

the austrian ski coach who rammed a roadblock. how is this news? i see drunk koreans doing this once a month to escape DUI testing...

americans fail to live up to hype. this was an actual headline on a leading american news web site. against whose hype did they not measure up? yours? the swedish media's? the namibian government's?

bad weather postpones super G. another actual headline. this woman's skiing event was postponed because of...snow falling. er, just what is it they're supposed to ski on, marshmallows? this is like postponing a day of sunbathing at the beach because it's too sunny...

or like postponing sex because your partner is too willing...

the american figure-skater's excuses for not winning a medal. poor johnny weir. he didn't win a medal because the bus didn't come by and pick him up like he expected it to do, thus depriving him of his "inner piece"--maybe it was "peace"--so he spent too much energy in trying to find a ride to the rink, where he ended up finishing fifth. how much energy does it take in italy to make a phone call to get another ride? this is a damning condemnation of italy's technological and transportation infrastructure.

is it torino or turin? well, who cares, really?

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only about 15 weeks left 'til the world cup, thankfully!!!

weekend drive

The day dawned cold, bright, and clear,
The idea spawned from within a beer:
On Ben and Parky’s last weekend with us,
We would spend the day driving
Without real direction through the mountains,
Perhaps finding some good food
Or discovering good drink,
Most definitely good scenery,
But certainly, above all,
We’d just find good times with friends.

It was a mid-morning gathering
In front of the convenience store,
Coffee in hand and a bright outlook
Toward what the day held in store.
Minds unfettered, normally bloodshot eyes
Today as white as the driven snow,
We seven clamoured into the rental van
And set our course for west into the hills.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
As we slowly climbed from sea level,
The snow became more ubiquitous
The conversation more ludicrous
The decision-making more dubious.
Hairpin turns, untouched meadows
Flush with unwrinkled blankets of powder,
An icy road leading up to exhilaration,
But, in the end, a downhill-only
Snowboard course for us because
The quality of our rental van
Fell short of the necessary requirements
To negotiate such slippery treacherousness.

Ben driving, Ryan reading, Nathan pondering,
Wives sleeping, all amidst the wintry scene,
Phillip and I blathering on incessantly
While awaiting our first beer stop around midday
In a forgotten town of icicles and obsequiousness,
It was from this remnant of Yeti’s footprint
That the fun and hijinks really began.

We climbed even further up into the hills
The beer loosening our tongues,
Galvanizing our witty repartee,
Broadening our vision in the brightness,
And sharpening our awareness of
The subtle signs all around us,
Warning us, admonishing us,
To be alert for whatever the future might hold;
Conveying to us, opening our souls to
The merging of alpha and omega,
Of up and down, of right and left,
Of slow and fast, of error and ignorance,
Of the climging and climding,
but rarely of the climbing.

Those signs of wit and wisdom
disappeared temporarily from our psyche
And we slipped into a lull of somnambulism
As we proceeded steadily toward our lunch
With the chicken, the dog, and the boiling goat.
We dined with the contentment of
Travelers long without sustenance,
We drank with the effortlessness of
Drinkers long without reluctance.
Outside, a hawk, in search of its own lunch,
Floatingly dueled its old, blustery Nemesis,
Its graceful jousting matched by
Our relentless pulls at the kettle of liquid gold
And the pulse of existence unique
To mountain towns everywhere.

A post-lunch trip to buy beer
Kicked the drinking off into real earnest
As we left Jungseong, our site of repast,
To access a northward path
Through mountains that belied their smallness
By towering over us and the winding road.
Frequent stops to empty bladders and
Refill our thirst lost to the ravages of talk
Took not away from the spectacular views
That continued to accompany our every move
Nor from the curiously entertaining road signs
That dotted the road from time to time.
Friendly smiles and shocked compliments
Toward us foreigners traversing their lands,
Speaking their language, eating their food,
Depleting their supplies of alcohol
Were as ubiquitous as the blue skies and deep snow











As the sun sunk into the western ridges
We began our descent toward the east.
The clouds darkened skyward, plump with snow
The cans fell floorward, devoid of contents
Which led to the last stop of the day
At a rest stop not too far from
Where recorded Buddhist chants
Swayed incongruently with
The furiously falling snow
The injuriously smelling bathroom
And the curiously funny sight
Of chickens on the window sill
Peering in at us and clucking madly.
It was the perfectly unusual--
But nonetheless queerly suitable--
Cap to a smartly-conceived day.

the pub of transience...

well, it seems that the furor still rages about the caricatures of mohammed (pbuh) in that danish newspaper. i've already written my piece on it, but i'll just add this poem below, written very recently as another expression of my thoughts on the whole flap...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pull up a stool
At the pub of transience
And rest your weary soul.
Recharge your intelligence
With a cup of candor.
Resolve your self-worth
With a pint of tolerance.
Indulge in a mug of levity
Because taking yourself too seriously
Is just another addiction.

Entrust the barkeep
To pour you a shot
Of her best caricature—
But don’t react too harshly
If it doesn’t suit your tastes.
After all, one woman’s poison
Is another woman’s ambrosia.

To some, this is a house of worship,
While others call it a den of miscreancy.
Depending upon your
Viewpoint
Preference
Inebriation,
It can be either, neither, or both.

Just as it’s her right
To create as she sees fit,
It’s not hers to force you to imbibe;
And just as it’s your right
Not to accept her endeavour,
It’s not yours to react violently.

The pub of transience
Is just that:
A public place shared
By those who cross the threshold
For only a short period of time.
It’s best to partake judiciously,
Share accordingly,
Listen tolerantly,
Banter gracefully,
React graciously,
Understand rationally,
Mingle curiously
All without demanding of others
Their acceptance of your dogma.

Leave the pub as neat
As possible for those who
Come after you because,
Don’t forget, you are more ephemeral
Than is the pub of transience.


Gangneung
08.02.06

freedom

we all need to sit down, admire some beauty, and search for tranquility...

there is another uproar between the arab-moslem world and the western christian-judeo world. as usual, it's a debate related to freedoms, cultural awareness and (in)sensitivity, preconceived notions, (in)tolerance, perceived (more than real) slights, and ignorance.

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i've thought alot over the past few days about how i feel about this, as a white non-arab most non-fundamental moslem from the judeo-christian world that so dominates this planet's wealth and government, and i've discussed it with various people with varying viewpoints and i've come to this conclusion (and humbly add to red forman's library of "dumbass" references):

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the world is full of incomprehensibly but astoundingly complete dumbasses.

*dumbass note: please see the full collection of "the 70's show", an american sitcom with my 2nd favourite all-time TV character, for red's complete repertoire of "dumbass" uses...

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this whole debate about the caricatures of the prophet mohammed (pbuh) appearing in some danish newspaper is just a waste of time and energy. more would be gained by spending the same energy just sitting and watching the sun set, or sending money to hurricane and/or earthquake victims, or telling your lover and/or friends how much you love and appreciate them, or excoriating the u.s. government for bombing a small pakistani village in order to eliminate members of a terrorist group, or taking time to feed a homeless person, or lambasting israel for continuing to oppress the palestinian people on the palestinians' land, or having body-bending, mind-blowing sex (or perhaps having sex-bending, body-minding blowjobs), or smiling at everyone you see instead of regarding them suspiciously...

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if you've not heard about the furor, then don't worry so much about it. if you have heard about it and followed it even a little, then you, too, don't worry about it so much. both sides are in their own ways culpable--the people associated with the drawing, colouring, and publishing of the cartoons and the people the world over so overreacting and violent protesting it.

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listen, the free speech to which so much of us in the west are so accustomed to enjoying--and to which we have been thus accustomed for so long--is not taken for granted in all parts of the world. change in societies and cultures where such freedoms have been non-existent for as long as they have been cannot be expected to take place at lightning speed. it cannot be expected that they are going to understand the basic premise of free speech or freedom of choice any more than we don't understand how they DON'T have these freedoms. depictions of mohammed (pbuh) are strongly disallowed in the tenets of islam and any attempt by anyone, anywhere to depict him (pbuh) in any shape, way, or form is going to draw ire and wrath from the arab-moslem street that will surprise the average (or even above-average and well-educated) westerner. the reactions by moslems the world over should not be such a surprise and makes one wonder objectively if there was some sort of intent, conscious or unconscious, to provoke unnecessarily.

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just because we have freedoms doesn't mean we can do whatever the hell we want, it only means that we have the CHOICE to do whatever the hell we want. and just because we are offended mightily because of a slight or act of disrespect or blasphemy doesn't give us the right to protest violently by ravaging embassies, consulates, and missions. respect, tolerance, and understanding of the other side's culture is completely missing on both sides of this issue.

(*author's note: feel free to nominate me to the nobel prize committe for a prize in the OBVIOUS STATEMENT OF 2006 category).

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as has been said in the past, dumbassness cannot be legislated, so any official condemnation of the danish publication or the artists themselves cannot be tolerated; equally, while silent protests or boycotting danish goods or burning danish flags are acceptable forms of protest, any demolition of buildings or people or vehicles in the name of islam also intolerable.

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that said, what bothers me is the double-standard: i think those in the west who are harshly reprimanding the protestors thronging the arab street should put themselves for a moment in the shoes of these people: if a series of cartoons depicting the virgin mary as a martini-toting whore dressed in leather mini-dress, mesh stockings, and fuck-me boots were circulated in a cairo newspaper, catholics the world over would be crying foul as loudly as they could; or if a paper in tokyo decided to run a series of cartoons depicting jesus as a pony-tailed dope-smoking abortionist with pierced nipples, the rest of christiandom would be rising as one to boycott toyota, nissan, and sushi; and if a web site from korea decided to run a series of drawings of abraham as an uncircumcised serial sheep rapist teacher of terrorism at a local yeshiva with lentil soup balls for genitals and a yarmulke on his ass, jews the universe over would be condemning the author of being anti-semitic and the wrath of hollywood and all forms of media and money would be descending upon a small city on the east coast of korea for vengeance. it's all a double-standard: the christian-judeo west prostitutes islam as it sees fit while the arab-moslem street crucifies western culture and religion without remorse, yet, both sides fly into fits of rage when the other side does it to them.

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it's a sick cycle and don't tell me that there is a difference in reactions, that the west reacts non-violently while only the arab street goes off into paroxyms of firebomb-throwing fits. every time an israeli gunship fires at a palestinian neighbourhood or an israeli soldier fires at a palestinian child playing in the street or a israeli bulldozer crushes a peace volunteer or countries are invaded on the pretext of pre-emption or abortion clinics are torched like marshmallows on a campfire or churches are burned in black america or ghetto paris just means that the two sides are playing a dangerous game of one-upmanship, a game where there is no winner--only losers--and no one is any better than the other.

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we all have just a short time (relatively speaking) before moving along this astral plane to the next one (or from this pub to the one next door), and wasting energy on tripe like this isn't going to help the perception of the west on the arab street nor is it going to help the image of moslems in the judeo-christian realm. we all drink from the same well, from the same pitcher, and if we don't learn to tolerate each other's methods of partaking, we're going to wake up one day to find that the pub is permanently closed.

random nothingness...

life is never this simple...

i started this particular place in spacetime about nine months ago with the implicit intent to give friends and family (and anyone else) a glimpse of everyday life here in korea and wherever else the coals under our feet would lead us. but this was not my first foray into aetherspace, into the shadowy and evasive world of internet posting known as "blogging" (which i call "gleebing" because the word gleebing is just as randomly a created word and sounds just as stupid as the word blogging does), as i had developed about a half-dozen other places with sprinklings of poetry, short stories, and uncensored rants and raves about the modern world. i had resisted setting up these gleebing sites because of the very nature that it was an mainstream intent to be subculture, to be underground. however, as a writer who's had no luck being published very much or widespreadly, i gladly succumbed to the temptation because , if not the outlet for writing, it was at least an outlet for writing and hoping that people other than my friends and family and living anywhere in the world would read what i had to say (provided they could read and understand english and actually want to spend minutes of their daily lives reading what it was i'd written).

a problem these days with gleebing is that there is a proliferation of so-called gleeb sites on the internet, so much so that the dilution has downgraded the quality of writing as a genre and that the ones that actually have things to say or are funny or entertaining are never noticed--though there are probably still less gleeb sites on the internet than there are cubic centimeters of fake breasts in the playboy mansion.

one can frequently hear that gleebs are "changing the landscape of writing and journalism" or some other nonsensical crap, which is why i usually can never find such web sites that are worth even a pile of iguana-wank. meaning no offense to my friends that write gleebs, some of which are linked from here to there, but have you ever seen a gleeb site that is actually worth accessing every day to read what has been written? i certainly haven't, this one included.

most gleebs seem to have the same boring theme: detailing the life and antics of the author's life. save for clever wording, photoshopping, or presentation, these blogs are no different from any other you might see. others are strongly fanatical in favour of the author's religiosity, political beliefs, escapades with camera angles best depicting the folds of labia or scrotum size, patriotism, family, favourite movies, lewd affairs with neighbourhood teenagers, daily routines, eggplant fetishes, preference for tea over coffee, racist or xenophobic tendencies, favourite alcohol, fiendish antics with friends, asking for money to support the underprivileged killer whales of the south seas, and more...

there are far too few gleeb sites that are actually intelligently-written. there are far too few gleebs that are written without the author's taking him- or herself too seriously. there are far too few gleebs that have taken time not to bore people to death. there are far too few gleebs that have been designed with an expressed intent of helping people the world over from conquering poverty, hunger, abuse, repression, oppression, recession, and obsession. there are far two few gleebs designed to incite revolutions against imperial aggressors intent on overtaking all of civilisation in the name of oil, capitalism, democracy, fascism, xenophobia, religion, creaky ideology, or sinister psychology. far too few gleebs are actually funny.

there are also too few people patrolling the internet looking for any intelligent gleebs to pass on to others so that the message gets across. there are few people patrolling the internet who aren't caught up too much in their own daily lives. there are few too people patrolling the internet who aren't obsessed with name brands, outward appearances, the latest fashion, or what they're driving. there are few too people who have not allowed themselves to be brainwashed by their government or media into believing that their particular culture or religion or language or traditions is the best. there are too few people who aren't willing to break away from mainstream thought, who aren't willing to be brave in their ideas, who aren't willing to back up their bravado, who aren't willing to pay the price.

guess that's just the way the silicone gel leaks out, eh??