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.”
Please, I Want to Go to Prison
Why do I like Park Chan-wook’s Korean film, Oldboy, you ask? Why, I like the film because I secretly want to be locked up for 15 years. In fact, I have dreamt of my incarceration since I was a kid. My romanticisation of a reclusive lifestyle began during one camping trip while reading Old Norse mythology. From the tales, there were a few that stuck with me such as those of the Norse God, Odin, who hung himself upside-down from a tree until he died. Why would he do that? He did it because he had learned everything except the knowledge of the afterlife, and his curiosity led him to explore the world that he could only reach through death. So I sat in my tent in solitude reading with no distractions of how Odin finally bartered his way out of Hades by plucking out his eye. Seemed like a good deal to me: an eye for immense, if not total, wisdom. Later, back at home, being so enthralled with the story, I came close to gouging out my own eye with a piece of broken glass. In the end, with the thin splinter against my eye, I thought better of the oedipism. To this day, I wonder how close I was. The fascination may be why I have a thing for cute girls wearing eye-patches.
Many years later, and with both eyes unpunctured, I spent most of my time in Cuba reading. I should pause to say this now: I am not an avid reader. Unlike the admirable voracious readers I have met, reading doesn’t come easily to me. Each page, for me, is onerous. Commas and semicolons, to me, are more like periods. I have an attention span that barely makes it until the end of the.
Oldboy for Little Girls and Little Boys
Why do I like Park Chan-wook’s Korean film, Oldboy, you ask? Why, I love the quirky action-packed romantic comedy because it’s good wholesome fun for the whole family! Are you a fan of true love, superheroes, and octopuses? If you are, you will definitely enjoy this showdown between good and evil based on the popular Japanese comic written by Nobuaki Minegishi. If you like anti-heroes such as the Dark Knight and pretty Grrl-power heroines such as Batgirl, you will love the zany adventures of Oh Dae-su and Mi-do. There’s no lame Aquaman in the movie! No way, no how!
Oldboy has it all: adventure, suspense, humour, and of course, love! Our hero, Oh Dae-su, similar to Harry Potter, begins the tale as a loser just getting through life one day at a time. One dark night, Dae-su is kidnapped then imprisoned in a hotel room for 15 years. During this time, Dae-su trains himself by shadowboxing. He begins to find his true destiny that will lead him to making the ultimate sacrifice for the sins of others. When he is finally mysteriously released back into the world, Dae-su seeks to avenge the cruel murder of his wife and save his daughter. In the end, Dae-su must fight for justice and face the evil mastermind, Woo-jin, and his henchman, Mr. Han. Woo-jin has all of the answers and knows a secret that will change everyone’s lives forever. Dae-su must solve the puzzle quickly—it’s a race against the clock! Can Dae-su find Woo-jin in time?
On Pico Iyer’s ‘Where Worlds Collide’
In his essay, Where Worlds Collide, Pico Iyer analyses the hustle and bustle of the Los Angeles International Airport while transvaluing the associations of the airport culture into current trends of globalisation. Through his long, descriptive sentences, Iyer controls the perception of time to take snapshots of juxtapositions, contradictions, and ironies.
Beginning with a single long sentence paragraph, Iyer captures attention with suspense as the reader tries to figure out who “they” are. He repeats “they” and “them” while providing visual and audial details allowing the reader to put everything together until Iyer finally states the location at the end of the third paragraph. By starting with the perspective of the collective, we get a sense of multiple views while also understanding indirectly that Iyer is only one set of eyes. He uses such a perspective as a device for adding his own experiences into the writing. Through this, he writes with limited omnipresence.
By working through observation and a control of time similar to editing video, Iyer catches many ironies through various juxtapositions in the airport. One such juxtaposition is the contrast between the “American Dream” and reality. While many developing countries invest heavily into their airports to make a good first impression for visitors, the LAX is less appealing and may be a disappointment to those who have heard exaggerations of U.S. wealth. Iyer often induces what people expect and compares it to he thinks they actually experience from the things that he sees. He uses his intuition to role-play how people interact the environment that he sees. In one instance, newcomers experience a gift of a keychain globe (a symbol that, like postcards made in Korea, visually enriches his essay with details of cultural and global interconnectedness) that ends up to not being free at all, but instead a solicitation for a donation. In another example, Iyer mentions the graffiti of “Mexicans go home” scrawled on a bathroom wall that contradicts the international culture within the airport. Through Iyer’s juxtapositions, readers can see both tolerance and intolerance of intercultural relations. On one hand, we see the prejudice against Mexicans, and on the other we see Ethiopians, despite extreme cultural animosity, working along with the Tigre. Iyer suggests that people are “amnesiac” towards historical tensions and much is forgotten for the sake of coexistence, yet he also reveals much of the lingering undercurrents of resentment.
We are God, and God is Dead: The Deaths and Resurrections of the comedic genius, Kim Jong-il
؟ ؟ ؟
God’s Ministry of Comedy
The Juche-bag Kim Jong has died. We saw it coming: he’s been Il for a long time.
And so it goes.
Although we +1, ✓Like, and resend these mostly annoying, crude jokes while participating in the cheap giggles, we cannot think of dystopia without also thinking of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. We sit at our computers connected from all around the world laughing at people who still don’t have the voice to defend themselves. We taunt their country, their leaders, their idols, and their Gods. Do we laugh because we are malicious? Yes, sometimes. There is, however, something deeper than mere vindictiveness. We know the North Korean situation is bad—unimaginably, unbearably beyond bad. Surely, it is not malignity, but rather sympathy that keeps us laughing for the very fact that their situation is so horrible. What do many of us do? We laugh because of the desperate, juxtaposed extremes. The situation is so dark, and we are so helpless to do anything meaningful, that all we can do is laugh. Laughter: our last link to sanity.
Swimming in Charcoal: Following South Korean Streams into Culture, History, and Memory
Written by Knigel Holmes
If someone had told me that I would become obsessed with charcoal during my stay in South Korea — well, no one would ever have told me that. From plebs to intellectuals, we enjoy the work of others; we rarely think deeply about the products around us. Charcoal, for one, is rather humdrum. Sure, one might consider charcoal when in need of heat, but the thought goes little further than basic utility. One might know a few technical facts such as activated charcoal makes an efficient water filter, or that most “charcoal briquettes” are usually a mixture of coke and coal instead of real charcoal — yawn. Perhaps one even has one of those odd little facts useful for filling in awkward moments of silence:
“Hey, did you know that African red colobus monkeys self-medicate themselves by eating charcoal which absorbs the cyanide from their leafy diets?”
(Awkward silence resumes.)
No, I did not come to Korea to ponder such a ho-hum, mind-numbing topic. I came to Korea for the raw octopuses, the bitter Soju, the cinematic ultra-violence, and of course, the Busan Bikini.
Never mind, forget about charcoal. Instead, let me tell the tale of the cunning, old Chinese joker, Dongfang Shuo, otherwise known in Korean as Tongbang Sak who, after eating the goddess Seo Wang-mo’s peach down by a river, became so blessed with longevity that the spirit world wailed with jealousy. So long did Tongbang live that his name officially appeared in the red ink of a dead man allowing spirits to drag his soul into the afterlife.
The Obituary of Billy Capra
Creative Non-fiction: Yes, this is a true story.
Written by Knigel HolmesThe Obituary of Billy Capra
Billy Capra, whose amiable personality and sincere, trusting character made him a favourite of all those who met him, died in Holguín, Cuba, on the farm where he was born and raised. Similar to many others born into the improper record keeping of the countryside, Billy’s exact age remains a mystery. Still, Billy could not have been older than 12 years old at his death.
Billy was survived by many close family members. Living in little more than a shed unattached to the main farmhouse, Billy’s family and he spent most of their time together. Although various nannies looked after Billy, his whole family ate together, slept together, and even bathed together. While some might frown on the Capra family’s closeness as something uncivilized, we must look onto them with compassion instead of judgement. They lived together out of oppressive necessity. Money was a luxury that the family went without.
Although Billy lived in what we might assume to be a life full of strife, he did not let on that the hardship affected him. He not only had a tough hide, but he was also a playful, sociable kid always out in some game with anyone who would humour him. On the rare occasion of butting heads with his peers over some mundane trifle Billy’s jovial temperament deflated any grudge. We cannot say, of course, that his constant gaiety did not annoy some of the crankier old goats. Billy’s natural inquisitiveness and intelligence kept everyone anticipating his next antics. From when he was a baby on four legs, his yearning for freedom oft led him somehow out of his pen and into trouble. Later this trouble would be the doe-eyed girls who fauned over the still-too-young Billy whom flourished under the attention.
A Gentleman’s Modest Douchebag Guide
Written by: Knigel Holmes
Obsession with cleanliness leaves us fearful of nauseating those around us because we worry about getting so used to our own selves that we remain oblivious to our own foulness. Those around us, in turn, exacerbate this problem by not wanting to break etiquette and, instead, edge away while jettisoning polite excuses. The unfortunate lack of feedback leaves people wondering when they too will be unknowing offenders stewing in their own mess. As an outcome of this self-consciousness, and so many people seeking ways to cover up their inadequacies, douchebags gain popularity. Despite dangers, this guide describes several douchebag techniques. Remember, these methods are at best unnecessary while potentially causing serious harm.
Before going on, we will first need to learn about douchebags. While intending to combat unpleasantness, these invasive, difficult-to-puncture, rubbery nuisances are relatively clean on the outside, yet sullied internally; therefore, douchebags tend to aggravate, irritate, and inflame instead of calm the symptoms. Similarly, improper handling causes embarrassing messes. For this reason, keep douchebags away from polite company. Most people, after interacting with douchebags, want to wash and disinfect themselves thoroughly. Additionally, while douchebags may not be foolproof measures against pregnancy, they do significantly reduce the chances of procreation. Now that we understand the concept of a douchebag, we simply need to keep the previous details in mind as we proceed.
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
By: Emily Dickinson
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant---
Success in Cirrcuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind---
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Recent Posts
- 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
- Lies
- 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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- Shirley Jackson — The Lottery
- Ursula K LeGuin — The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas
- Willa Cather — Paul’s Case: A Study in Temperament