The Kangaroo Panopticon
Why do I like Park Chan-wook’s Korean film, Oldboy, you ask? Why, the reason I like Oldboy is because I long to punish my enemies. Not only do I want to tit their tat, but also to utterly annihilate their entire existence while ruining everything they love. If they love nothing? Then I want to give them love only to violate it while blossoming. My enemies should not only suffer physically, but should also endure every possible psychological torture procurable. I want my adversaries to be at the peak of their hopes before kicking down their sandcastles. Before you indignantly judge me, you must remember that when I say “I”, you know that it means “we”: for beneath all of our politeness, beneath all of our reservations, linger spiteful, vindictive thoughts. Speak for myself? No, I will speak for all of us.
Elucidating this idea, Russell Roberts, the director of Vancouver, Canada’s Shakespearian Bard on the Beach play, Titus Andronicus, defends the choice of using gratuitous fake blood instead of “arty-farty” red ribbons:
“We’re very inhuman, we human beings. I mean, look what’s happening in Afghanistan, in Baghdad, in Somalia. It has happened since day one. This is no more violent or horrible than what’s going on around the globe right now. Titus has been catalogued as a problem play, but I think that the problem—if there’s a problem—is that we don’t like to have that mirror put up to us.”
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. — Harrison Bergeron
Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.
Some things about living still weren't quite right, though. April for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron's fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.
It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn't think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn't think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.
George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel's cheeks, but she'd forgotten for the moment what they were about.
On the television screen were ballerinas.
A buzzer sounded in George's head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.
"That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did," said Hazel.
"Huh" said George.
"That dance-it was nice," said Hazel.
Shirley Jackson — The Lottery
The Lottery by Shirley Jackson
The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o'clock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 26th. but in this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten o'clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.
The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke into boisterous play, and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at the boys, and the very small children rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.
Political Correctness and the English Language
Written by Knigel Holmes
In Politics and the English Language, Orwell criticises modern language for hiding true intentions behind unclear writing. “The great enemy of clear language is insincerity,” writes Orwell. “When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink”. Orwell argues that euphemisms manipulate language and allow those controlling the meaning to distort reality. Following his argument, contemporary disputes of political correctness reveal modern power struggles. If, as Orwell argues, the enemy of clear language is insincerity, then political correctness is also an enemy of clear language. Political correctness and euphemisms, moreover, prematurely euthanize critical thought.
“'Who controls the past,” writes George Orwell in his novel Nineteen Eighty-Four, ”controls the future: who controls the present controls the past”. While critics abuse the term “Orwellian” by comparing Orwell’s dystopia to modern government, there has yet to be a government able to maintain such control on the populous. No single authority controls the thoughts of contemporary society; however, various institutions and organisations vie to shape language into what will best support their agendas. A Logocracy rules global culture through the power of language. Words define what is legal, what is clinical, and what is acceptable. A switch in meaning changes a benevolent act into a crime. Instead of a central authority, a coalition of individuals, media, businesses, and governments rule public thought through language. Each member of society receives and sends information shaping language and meaning; however, there is no balance of power in this coalition.
All Blade, No Handle: A Survey of Asian and Western Victim Blaming Acculturation
How would you attribute blame in these research questions? If you had to distribute a total score of 100% between the characters, how would you split it? Do you think that males and females would distribute the total score differently?
1. Jiyoung is at her first membership training. While at the party, her seniors pressure her into drinking many shots of Soju. She groggily wakes up later in a hotel room with one of her male seniors. The senior is having sex with Jiyoung, but Jiyoung does not say anything.
2. Suji is upset because her boyfriend, Jake, of seven years has to work overtime. She knows that he just bought her an expensive handbag and new earrings, so has to work more to pay off the credit card bills. Suji goes out to the club and then goes to a hotel with a man to have sex. Jake’s friend tells Jake about seeing Suji go into the hotel with the man. The next night, when Jake comes home, he is in a rage. He screams at Suji who admits she had an affair. Finally, Jake slaps Suji one time across the face.
3. Hyemin is at a dinner party with her schoolmates. She has been enjoying her conversation with her senior named Taehoon. They have known each other for over one year. Hyemin tells Taehoon that she is tired and too drunk, so she wants to go home. Taehoon offers to bring her to a nearby motel. Hyemin is worried at first, but Taehoon promises that he will be the perfect gentleman—besides, he says, he is like her older brother. Hyemin goes to the motel with Taehoon; however, while she starts to sleep, Taehoon makes sexual advances. Hyemin says she only wants to sleep and keeps rejecting Taehoon until Taehoon becomes frustrated and angry. Hyemin asks Taehoon why he tricked her into coming to the hotel. Taehoon counters saying Hyemin knew his intention all along and knew what was going to happen. Taehoon reminds Hyemin that he paid for the motel room and then tells Hyemin to stop pretending to be innocent.
Do You Know Who Else Asked For Blood Types? Yeah, that’s right–Nazis
In Korea, people are very concerned about my blood type. Many, not all, Koreans attempt to guess my blood type based off of what they know of my personality. Once they believe that they have figured it out, they tell me how all of my characteristics match the Asian stereotypes of blood type--most enjoy calling me a "B" of which is usually considered the selfish jerk.
Being a jerk, I take joy in the schadenfreude of bringing up the history of this not-so-innocent pet superstition. This blood type nonsense may not only be pseudoscience, but also quite sinister (No offense lefthanders!). Apparently, Nazi Germany used previously debunked research regarding blood types to promote their racist agenda. A while later, Japanese researchers such as the uncredentialed Masahiko Nomi helped propagate these dangerous malformed ideas through Japan. This insult to science was meant to further the mission of breeding superior soldiers for Nazi Germany and militarized Japan. Now, it is used for for discrimination in the work force.
Bad ideas are hard to kill.
While I understand that we should all be cautious about telling other cultures that they should and should not do, I urge Japan, Korea, and other countries that use it, to drop this out of the culture. If you all stop asking people their blood types, I'll do my best to get Canadians and other countries that use it, to stop asking for your astrological signs.
I think this is a fair trade--right?
“That’s the conspiracy: to persuade us all that the whole world is crazy”
Quote One: The Conspiracy
"Joseph K.: I don't pretend to be a martyr, no.
Hastler: Not even a victim of society?
Joseph K.: I am a member of society.
Hastler: Do you think you can persuade the court that you're not responsible by reason of lunacy?
Joseph K.: I think that's what the court wants me to believe. Yes, that's the conspiracy: to persuade us all that the whole world is crazy, formless, meaningless, absurd. That's the dirty game. So I've lost my case. What of it? You, you're losing too. It's all lost, lost. So what? Does that sentence the entire universe to lunacy?"
Quote Two: Before the Law
Before the law, there stands a guard. A man comes from the country, begging admittance to the law. But the guard cannot admit him. May he hope to enter at a later time? That is possible, said the guard. The man tries to peer through the entrance. He'd been taught that the law was to be accessible to every man. "Do not attempt to enter without my permission", says the guard. I am very powerful. Yet I am the least of all the guards. From hall to hall, door after door, each guard is more powerful than the last. By the guard's permission, the man sits by the side of the door, and there he waits. For years, he waits. Everything he has, he gives away in the hope of bribing the guard, who never fails to say to him "I take what you give me only so that you will not feel that you left something undone." Keeping his watch during the long years, the man has come to know even the fleas on the guard's fur collar. Growing childish in old age, he begs the fleas to persuade the guard to change his mind and allow him to enter. His sight has dimmed, but in the darkness he perceives a radiance streaming immortally from the door of the law. And now, before he dies, all he's experienced condenses into one question, a question he's never asked. He beckons the guard. Says the guard, "You are insatiable! What is it now?" Says the man, "Every man strives to attain the law. How is it then that in all these years, no one else has ever come here, seeking admittance?" His hearing has failed, so the guard yells into his ear. "Nobody else but you could ever have obtained admittance. No one else could enter this door! This door was intended only for you! And now, I'm going to close it."
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- The Kangaroo Panopticon
- Please, I Want to Go to Prison
- Oldboy for Little Girls and Little Boys
- On Pico Iyer’s ‘Where Worlds Collide’
- We are God, and God is Dead: The Deaths and Resurrections of the comedic genius, Kim Jong-il
- The Many Names: A South Korean Folktale
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- Swimming in Charcoal: Following South Korean Streams into Culture, History, and Memory
- The Obituary of Billy Capra
- Political Correctness and the English Language
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- Photo Galleries
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- George Carlin — Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics
- George Orwell — Politics and the English Language
- Horace Miner — Body Ritual among the Nacirema
- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. — Harrison Bergeron
- Shirley Jackson — The Lottery
- Ursula K LeGuin — The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas
- Willa Cather — Paul’s Case: A Study in Temperament