Scribblings of the Metropolitician

I Hate to Say "I Told You So," but...

I TOLD YOU SO!

I have been saying from the beginning that Korea's "advances" in cloning, which recently resulting in the cloning of a human being, were ethically suspect.

Don't get me wrong – I'm not a Bible thumper, I support the right of women have an abortion, and I think stem cell research is a a good idea. I also think that America's Puritanical over-moralizing can be an impedance to useful scientific progress. Mine is a country in which over one-half of the population claims to not believe in the theory of evolution. Most of these people do not seem to realize that a "theory" does not mean "unfounded conjecture," as it is generally used in the colloquial sense of the word. It means a set of hypotheses that continue to be confirmed by reproducible, confirmable tests against observed reality. No one talks about evolution as being just a "theory" when salmonella bacteria evolve into super-resistant strains and kill people. Evolution at work, fools.

Korea is a country in which the removal of ethical controls in the name of "development" at any cost resulted in "progress" – but with serious negative side effects. Yes, Korea's economy developed at a kick-ass rate and Pak Chung Hee is directly responsible for taking the economy in its successful direction, at times to the chagrin of this country's former American master. Yet, along with that rapid development came the brutal suppression of democracy and basic freedoms, kidnapping and torture, as well as outright murder, both overt and as-of-yet still secret. Female labor was exploited to the greatest possible extreme, even to the point that the government actively supported and fostered the sex industry. Korean soldiers in Vietnam, pumped up on the intense anti-Communist ideology that taught that North Koreans had tails and horns, committed the most horrific and infamous war crimes in that ill-fated war. As any Vietnamese or American Vietnam veteran will tell you, the South Koreans were both feared and respected for the brutal ways in which it dealt with the Viet Cong.

Labor unions were savagely broken up, and government-hired thugs beat down men, women, and children when squatters refused to move off of the land that the government had rezoned, resold, or simply wanted to hide away from the eyes of foreign visitors, lest any white folks see urban poverty from the side of the road during the 1988 Olympics.

And then, suddenly, in a field that holds as much social importance and impact as the development of nuclear technology, Korea is bragging about having – to the world's surprise – cloned a human being. Even the  Slate.com fluff piece on the subject of the "biotech mystery" of "why Korea leads the world in stem-cell research" ignored the very point it actually brought up – that for some reason, although Korean society possesses a large and evangelical Christian contingent, it is remarkably apolitical and barely bats an eye at subjects such as abortion and, in recent days, the moral quandary posed by the advent of human cloning. It then goes on to mention how abortion is nominally illegal in South Korea, but is in reality as safe and easy to get as in any country in which it is legal – which is quite true. But in the very next breath, the Slate commentator talks about the positive prospects for such sensitive research in South Korea because of international controls and regulations. Naw, we shouldn't worry. On to the next point.

Huh? Didn't we just establish that Korea has never been a stickler about following its own stated laws, let alone the faraway protocols and controls of international organizations? I mean, ferchrissakes, prosititution is illegal in this country, but the police are the ones who oversee the red light districts. Abortion is illegal, yet it's easier to get one here than in the States – at least you don't have to deal with being verbally and physically assaulted by extreme Christian rightists here. I'm not arguing for whether prostitution or abortion should be legal or not; what I am pointing out is that although both are already illegal in this country, the law means absolutely nothing. Such is the case for parents giving bribes to teachers in schools as a rule, students offering sexual favors for a grade, or the fact that there are cabarets everywhere that cater only to married people who want to have one-night stands with each other.

I'm not saying the United States or any other country in the world has a monopoly on morality. What I am saying is that there seems to have been a disconnect somewhere in the rush for development in this country that has fostered the message that development and "getting ahead" is important enough to get there by any means necessary. This mentality is what leads to "education fever" that convinces healthy 18 year-olds to take flying leaps off buildings if they fail an exam, or the statistic that 1 in 4 high school girls has exchanged sex for money or favors in some form (in one study done by a Korean researcher for a paper on sex in cyberspace). If it seems high, let me tell you that after having worked in Korean public, private, and especially alternative schools – this number seems to reflect reality, believe it or not. There's even a name for the concept of underage female girls having sex for "compensation" – wonjo kyoje (원조교제) – which may give you a sense of how everyday such acts are. I'm not saying everyone's doing it – I'm just saying that it's not unusual. Not a social problem you hear about in the oft-described "liberal" or "morally corrupt" United States. Ah, right – Korea's is a "family-oriented" society.

So now we hear that Dr. Hwang has violated international protocols in genetic research, his main foreign research partner has pulled out, and he has resigned as the director of the research center he was to lead.

Good – that's a start. Maybe there'll be some real soul-searching through public discourse as to the moral price South Korea has paid for rapid development – most of the Korean social problems that I teach about in my university class on the same subject find their origins in the present century, from ideologies having to do with race and nation, the government's relationship with organized labor, the particular modes of women's labor and sexual oppression, ad infinitum. And now, in the first steps taking in human cloning, we find out that the South Korean research team ignored protocols from the git go. Is anyone surprised? The sad thing is that most Koreans will probably say, "What's the big deal?" and forgive these ethical transgressions as "necessary evils" or the dirty little secrets that just get created when you wanna get anything done that's worth doing. Hey, that's been the way of things in South Korea for nearly a century. Why should this be any different?

Well, I happen to think that genetics and human cloning are technologies that rival the splitting of the atom in terms of their socially explosive energy. Leaving this – without due consideration and international cooperation and supervision, to a vainglorious, nationalist drive to simply be "first" for the sake of being so, "damn the torpedoes" – that scares the living shit out if me.

These technologies are bigger than any single nation's drive for vain pride and scientific glory. This statement goes for the US, South Korea, England, or any other nation engaging in such important work. I thought so when watching the bombastic summer thriller The Island in a South Korean movie theater. In the fictional world of that film, there were international controls on human cloning that had been completely ignored in the face of selfish vanity. Was I the only one to get a chill from watching it in the very country that had just proudly announced having been the first to clone a human being? I guess I'm the only one to get that irony.

And speaking of things Greek, I believe, as our Hellenic foreparents did, that fate has a way of punishing humanity for its continuing, unabashed hubris. Her name is Nemesis, and I hear she's a bitch. And from my read of history, she ain't never late to the party.

Podcast #14 Is Served!

Sorry for the delay – I've gotten several podcasts in the can now, but haven't had time to edit them. I served up a simple one for you that's actually pretty full of gems. It's part soundscape, part walking tour, and part cool new restaurant review. The indefatigable Susan joins me to assist in the evaluation of the amazing little Mexican place she found in the newspaper. Score another one for Susan – another culinary gem! | Download here! |

The Happy Metropolitician

OK - I admit it. Several people have pointed this out after having observed my last few posts.

I have been in an extremely bad mood. I have been irritable. But I'm coming out of it.

In short, in the last two weeks, my girlfriend flew the coop and my iPod just up and broke (well, to be fair, I fell asleep in the bus and dropped it pretty hard – twice). $500 bucks (in circa 2004 adjusted greenscreen iPod dollars) down the drain, along with many dinners for two, conversations, and what I thought was good lovin' – all for naught.

So please excuse the slightly harsh Hongdae post. Although I stand by most of my observations, I do admit that it was kinda mean. I'll leave it up because I don't believe in erasing the past – but I still don't like Hongdae no mo'. It's lost its flava, mang.

But things are looking up – I actually got dragged to – ahem – Hongdae by a friend who was trying to get me the hell out of dodge, and she brought along two lovely lasses who were quite fun. Although I ended up paying 25,000 won to hear techno (argh!), it was good to not stew in my apartment. I actually ran into a friend and reader of the blog who was absolutely stunned and greatly amused to see me standing in M2 just a couple days after reading that ascerbic anti-Hongdae rant. I was quite amused as well.

And although I had to drop serious dollas for a new iPod, the new video-enabled 5th generation iPod is, to put it poetically, fucking sweet! I was at first hesitant to drop the dimes on what I thought were just frills and a fancy screen, but this little gadget has got the kid in me cooing again. Music videos! Yeah! Video podcasts! Yeah! Clearer, cleaner, brighter screen! Yeah! Photo slide show good for the photographer in me! Yeah! And it's thinner, sexier, and has picture quality that is amazingly wonderful. Life is good again. At least things are looking up.

Or, for me, looking down – all day long at the cool-azz videos I'll be watching through the new iPod while sitting on long-ass bus rides.

Yeah, baby, yeah!

Ya'll have a nice night!

You Know You've Been in Korea Too Long When...

To J.B. Toddsttoe,

You're an "ESL Instructor" in Seoul who actually takes the time to write a letter to the Korea Times to castigate a non-native speaker of English – the very language with which you are ostensibly making a living teaching to such people – for making a few blunders when writing what is actually a pretty interesting article on the subject of the awkwardness of English-language slogans used by Korean cities governments.

Mr. Toddstoe, you're a guest in this country making a living teaching English to non-native speakers. You must have forgotten that fact in your rant of incredibly ethnocentric arrogance, in which you actually attack your source of bread-and-butter, room and board. Reactions such as yours are exactly what makes it difficult for Koreans to speak English on a level that reflects the relatively high level to which many can both read and write it. Yet, since English has traditionally been taught somewhat akin to the way we teach Latin in the West – as a dead language full of rules to be minded and fretted over, not as a means of true communication – there is an incredible amount of inefficiency, fear, and loathing associated with the teaching and learning of English.

The article in question – written by a native Korean – was quite effective in communicating its point and was not deserving of your ill-spirited attack, especially since it was not criticizing merely the grammatical or syntactical choice of words in the slogans, but rather their implied meanings and unintended connotations. "Perfect" English – or even idiomatic accuracy –  is not a prerequisite for having conversation. And I'm sure you don't hold that same high bar for the girls you use your English to scam with in Hongdae clubs or wherever. (See previous mean-spirited post).

I wonder how much Korean you speak – as you're so obviously concerned with the appropriateness of who has the authority to say what in what language. I assume that your Korean is quite good by now, since that is a reasonable expectation to have of someone who is living and working in another country; it is certainly a more reasonable thing to say than calling a non-native speaker of English someone with an "English impediment." Fer Chrissake – if you're that far gone, you need to get the hell out of dodge, dude. If you're an English teacher yet you're counting the mistakes that non-native speakers of English make and then becoming irate about it – go the fuck home. You've totally gone loopy, dude.

MR. TODSTTOE'S LETTER:

Leave English to Those Who Speak It

It's getting laughable, the degree to which your paper insists on being South Korea's great bastion of Konglish. The Nov. 8 issue featured a criticism on the "painful" English used in various Korean province slogans.

But the article itself was even more painful than the infamously stupid "Hi Seoul."

"Give a shot to it"? In English we have the idiom "give it a shot." I'd like to see a moratorium on Korean writers trying to use English idioms. They invariably alter them in some absurd, maladroit manner. And, please, if you can't use a simple word like "however", give it up.

The writer, Choe Yong-shik, tries to link two complementary ideas with the word. A basic understanding of conjunctions dictates that this word is only used as a transition to an idea somehow at odds with the preceding one. The article ends with a horrendous contradiction in terms: "Finalized

in August, the slogan is still in the making." Something finalized is already made; something in the making has not yet been finalized. Sheesh. I counted no fewer than 11 such gaffs in Mr. Choe's little English lesson for the provinces.

He and other writers who share his English impediment should stick to commenting on their area of expertise in their native language. Leave English to those of us who speak it.

J.B. Todsttoe ESL Instructor in Seoul



ORIGINAL LETTER WRITTEN BY NON-NATIVE SPEAKER:

No Gains From Painful Slogan

By Choe Yong-shik
Contributing Writer

Ever since the Seoul Metropolitan Government kicked off the notorious ‘‘Hi Seoul'' campaign in 2002, the stage has been set for other local entities wishing to emulate Seoul’s initiative. After all, the controversy and embarrassment surrounding the ‘‘Hi Seoul'' campaign did not break out in time to prevent other major urban centers from coming up with their own equally enigmatic and awkward marketing campaigns.

The English marketing slogan frenzy has finally hit the southeastern shores of the peninsula and South Kyongsang Province is giving a shot to ‘‘Feel Gyeongnam.'' The province surrounding the City of Pusan may have felt left out over the years in the foray of ‘‘Dynamic Busan,'' ‘‘Buy Incheon,'' ‘‘It’s Daejeon,'' ‘‘Happy Suwon,'' ‘‘Amenity Seocheon'' and ‘‘Ulsan for You.'' Based on the government-proposed Romanization system, Gyeongsang is an alternate name of the province as Busan is for Pusan.

A glimpse of these slogans, however, will only prove that, in Korea, the English language is just a luxury item to look important to their fellow Koreans, not a vital marketing tool to attract foreign investment or promote international tourism.

This type of marketing by the public sector is known as ‘‘destination marketing'' or ‘‘location branding,'' designed to promote a particular area by exuding an image of the country or city’s character, travel, culture, regional specialties, strategic industries, and vision. Destination marketing is intended to link these identities with the city, hence raising its economic value through increased recognition.

Unfortunately, it is clear that Korea’s local governments have not been successful in conveying a meaningful message through their location branding efforts. However, most of the aforementioned expressions are unclear and often illogical.

Given that the slogan of a city or a corporation is meant to be the statement made by the members of the city or corporation to reveal its identity, history or vision, ‘‘Hi Seoul'' is a self-satisfactory greeting by the citizens of Seoul toward themselves. While far more compelling in imagery and nuance in its original Korean context, ‘‘Happy Suwon'' implies the existence of an ‘‘unhappy'' city. Or it would be more natural for humans to be happy, not cities or countries.

Further south one can see, ‘‘Ulsan for You,'' which is equally perplexing and awkward in its intended meaning. Ironically, the neighboring town Gimhae has been happily using ‘‘Gimhae for You'' as well.

When assessing the efforts of South Kyongsang Province, currently embarking on a heavy foreign investment drive, ‘‘Feel Gyeongnam'' is the culmination of half a year’s worth of collaboration among local scholars and experts to formulate a message that would encompass the region’s dynamism and sophistication. Instead of projecting a vision of natural beauty, tourist attractions, and industrial and trade potential, however, ‘‘Feel Gyeongnam'' only raises eyebrow after just a brief moment of consideration and throws two profound questions -- how to feel Gyeongnam and what Gyeongnam means.

What Is ‘Gyeongnam’?

What can also be considered a lapse in judgment is the decision to shorten “Gyeongsang namdo,” which literally translates into ‘‘South Gyeongsang Province,'' to ‘‘Gyeongnam.'' Whereas any Korean would understand the abbreviation based on the common Korean practice of using just the first syllable of a series of words, this can be confusing to a non-Korean who might confuse ‘‘Gyeongnam'' to be the actual name of the province. In addition, the use of ‘G’ as opposed to ‘K,’ although authorized under the government’s recent implementation of the Romanization system, increases the probability of a mispronunciation.

Usually, the word ‘‘feel'' is followed by an adjective, like ‘‘feel happy'' or ‘‘feel sad.'' When followed by a noun, the verb ‘‘feel'' usually means to physically feel something with one’s hand, like ‘‘feel the texture.'' Whereas the South Kyongsang government had intended for readers to feel the spirit, beauty, splendor, passion or love of the province, this cannot be accomplished through the use of just two words -- one of them as vague as ‘‘feel.'' As a result of this naive assumption, one might conjure up an image of a person with his arms stretched out, stumbling about in an attempt to ‘‘feel'' or find something in the dark. Every marketing expression, no matter how simple, should always be tested on a non-Korean audience.

Finalized in August, the slogan is still in the making. Yesterday, the provincial government completed a three-week-long public poll to determine the winning graphic design for the slogan, and the result is to be released in the nearest future.

Notwithstanding, there is still some time to repair this marketing disaster. The bureaucrats should admit to such an egregious error in the game and reconsider everything from the beginning before it is too late.

Choe is the author of recent book, ‘‘What’s Wrong With Korea’s Global Marketing?'' and lectures on mass media at Sejong University in Seoul. -- ED.

I Saw Elvis in a Korean Taxi

Prefatory Note: Back before the days of "blogging," I was already blogging. On a site that will remain nameless, written and posted as a real website in HTML, I was once hard at work on a book/body of work/blog called "Adventures in Ambiguity: Strange and Amazing Tales from the Margins of Race, Identity, and Culture." I've lifted from there an interesting piece I eventually had published in the KoreAm Journal as the first installment in a regular series of non-fiction pieces in that magazine. I didn't get paid, alas. In any case, here it is, in its more raw form, before the many slight edits and trims I had to do to get it in the magazine. Of course, this made the work leaner and meaner, but it also lost a little bit of edge. I lift and graft it here straight from the year 2000-ish, when I first wrote and posted it. I was a true-blue blogger, back when they just called it a "web page."

"I Saw Elvis in a Korean Taxi"

Many people have claimed to see Elvis, in a variety of forms. I saw him in a Korean taxi. He didn't actually look like Elvis, or quite talk like him, but he certainly was alive and well in the memories of a taxi driver I came to know in a trip across Seoul.

I think I caught this particular taxi at City Hall, but I can't be sure. I do recall that it was nighttime and I was happy to have found a cab where I was, and catching a taxi near City Hall was always a real pain in the ass. So I hop in the front seat, and thankfully this driver was not giving me a hard time about using the seat belt, since some drivers take it as an offense to their driving skills. This, despite the fact that I was told early on in my time there that Korea had the highest traffic accident death rate in the world; I had not trouble believing it. So the fact that I wasn't having a hard time with this particular driver had already settled me somewhat.

I quickly gave him directions in perfect Korean, much to his surprise. I say "perfect Korean" and I mean it; my Korean had progressed to a pretty high point but was far from perfect, but my taxi driver Korean had evolved to a whole other level. I could give directions such as "I'd like to go to Tongdaemun" and "Please take a right at the traffic light next to the white van" like a pro - I was no joke.

But the problem with these little prideful displays was that the taxi drivers - who didn't know me from Adam - completely overestimated my Korean abilities, and spoke to me at a very high level. This had its good points, as you'll soon see, but it also sometimes poses problems, so after the initial conversational groundwork had been laid, I generally tried to keep my mouth shut. If all went well, the driver would usually go off into a monologue about something that would eventually lose me, but I would be able to fake it well enough to make him - or her - think that I was absolutely the coolest and linguistically able foreigner they had ever come across. The driver would be happy - and I would have whiled away a good 20 minutes or so.

"You speak Korean pretty well. What do you do?" would be the opening remarks most of the time. I would simply respond that I was a middle school teacher in Chejudo, and after getting over the fact that I lived in a place most Koreans think of like Americans do Hawaii, the conversation inevitably would turn in the direction of something the taxi driver wants to talk about. Me being American, this often means a discussion of the land of hamburgers, pizzas, and apple pies. However this time, it took a more interesting turn.

"Do you like Elvis?" the driver asked me as we rounded a bend.

As I looked around the taxi and noticed that there was Elvis paraphernalia on the windows, the dashboard, hanging from the mirror, and even in the tape deck, I politely responded that I did - and that I actually liked him quite a bit. I sort of winced even as I said that, but I thought it would be nice to say.

So he popped in a tape - Elvis of course - and started singing along to "Love Me Tender" or some such slow song I never knew the title to. I found that the driver actually did a pretty good Elvis. One would think that this might have been a somewhat awkward moment, but it barely rated a tick on the surreality meter by this point in my stay in Korea.

Between lines of song, the driver explained to me that he was Elvis's #1 fan, and that he had been ever since he was a teenager. I nodded and politely prodded for more, and he obliged by explaining how difficult it had been during the times of martial law under a virtual dictatorship to enjoy a large variety of popular music. And apparently, when Elvis hit the airwaves in the States, he had hit them just as hard in Korea, perhaps finding an even more receptive and eager audience in the relative vacuum of popular mass music culture.

Elvis had been an inspiration to him, and was a welcome escape as he struggled through a pretty harsh life in the late 50s and 60s, the driver added. He didn't claim to worship American pop culture, and added that he hadn't even particularly like American music - it was Elvis and only Elvis. You see, the driver explained to me, Elvis was not only a music star, but he had been able to cross over into the movies as well. He asked me whether I had seen any of his movies, and I instantly replied with a half-surprised "Of course." What red-blooded American hasn't seen an Elvis movie, right? I was lying like a rug, but I didn't think I would be called upon to prove myself. It was simply a verbal cue for the driver to continue the conversation.

"Well, then you probably know how talented he was, since he could act as well as he could sing," he surmised. I agreed, even though the sight of an Elvis film had always prompted me to quickly turn the station away from TNT - the lone nevue besides The Nashville Network where Elvis movies always seem to be on - as quickly as possible.

But I soon found myself glad that I had lied as much as I had to this point in the conversation, because the driver soon made it clear how happy he was to be having this conversation with me. He said that he had never been able to speak to an American about this thing which he felt so strongly about; of course, he had foreign passengers occasionally before, but the language barrier had always been a problem. And other Koreans his age tended to think that the level of his infatuation with Elvis was a bit strange, the more he described it in detail.

Apparently, he found it quite nice to share his obsession with someone whom he felt could understand, and I guess I was the first candidate to come along. Now this may sound a bit hokey, but I felt somewhat honored to be that person - it seemed like the driver was intensely enjoying sharing his hobby unapologetically and freely with a kindred spirit. And it started to become surreal for me, since I had always been a Black man who had always been somewhat bothered by Elvis. The last time I had thought about Elvis was in high school, when Public Enemy's "Fight the Power" track reminded and admonished Black folk "Elvis - that sucker was simple and plain. Motherfuck him and John Wayne." Of course, I kept that inner monolgue to myself.

So despite the fact that phrases like "cultural imperialism" and "hegemonic discourse" kept flashing through my brain, I found it fascinating to get a new perspective on something I would have never have thought to ever think about again. Even as Elvis was crooning to millions and pissing off a helluva lot of us Colored folk, there was a reception all the way across the Big Water - at least in one person's mind - that was completely different, even if completely unintentional.

I can't say exactly why this taxi driver liked Elvis so damn much without me thinking that I am putting words into this guy's mouth. But I did get the distinct impression that Elvis struck some sort of chord for this guy - I mean Elvis was cool, macho, and he got chicks. Maybe that's not the most poignant sentiment in the world, but it was enough for me. For some odd reason, it really struck me that my mind had been broadened. Admittedly, it wasn't horizon-expanding in the same way that reading books by Stephen Hawking or studying Russian verb conjugation would be considered to be, but the point was that I had suddenly a new take on something that I had filed away in my head in a neat little category, never to be opened again.

I guess many things were lost in the cultural translation - as often happens - and the painful histories of racial discrimination and cultural appropriation that Elvis personified were left by the wayside in the journey across the Pacific; they had no relevance here, as Elvis was, for at least one person, a symbol of youth, attitude, and being eminently cool in a time when it was difficult to be anything more than cold, hungry, and worried about the future. In that context, Elvis signified something for this Seoul cab driver raised in the harsh, Cold War South Korea which would offer little democracy, personal freedom, or comfort for decades to come. This is a far cry from the Elvis I had come to know as a Black-Korean kid raised in Ohio in the 1980s. For me, Elvis was a pre-Civil Rights era joke.

But somehow I felt more right than wrong to be a Black man sitting in a cab in Korea lying about how much I liked Elvis. I got to my destination feeling like I had just had a real conversation, had made a connection with someone. And I really do believe I saw a little glimpse of Elvis that day.

Why Hongdae Is Annoying

Hongdae is the coolest place, with the swankiest bars and hippest clubs. People mix, mingles, and mack the night away, the very definition of the cool place to swing in Seoul.

But I hate Hongdae.

You see, back in the day, you didn't have to have signs like these:

I know – as a foreigner or cool Korean, one should have nothing bad to say about the place. And I should say that my hatred is not polemical or ideological, like some people who say that Hongdae is too full of "scary GI's" (which usually translates to mean raucous, muscled-up white boys or any black person) or "weird people" (meaning Koreans who perceive themselves to be extremely cool or possessed of an unusual sense of fashion). Hongdae doesn't represent anything to me, nor do I stereotypically associate the place with a single, certain type of person.

This means that sometimes I am known to go to Hongdae to meet people who have already decided to congregate there, or if there's an extra-special event going on over there. But generally, given a choice, I usually take a raincheck or gracefully bow out.

Now, I used to think that since I actually liked Hongdae at one point in time – back when I was a youngun in my 20's during the 1990's – my present aversion to the place meant that I am simply getting old. Maybe it meant that I should start hanging out in 단란주점 (old school hostess bars) and singing karaoke with middle-aged drinking girls. Maybe I should even start hanging out in 다방 (tea houses with "company"), getting drunk and ranting about politics, indignantly and emphatically pulling up on my pants belt every time I made a point.

But then I thought – naw – it ain't me. The place has changed. When I realized it was when a friend of mine dragged my old ass out to Suwon to hit a hip hop club there where a DJ friend of hers was spinning. I was quite suspicious, as I hadn't seen a hip hop club worth my time since I returned in 2002. I'll return to this part of the story later.

See, I'm from the old school. Of course, lots of young poseurs say the same, but if "old school" is relative to when you happened to start liking music in middle school, it doesn't count. That means Cypress Hill is not old school. Neither is Nelly, nor 50 Cent. And loving up some Justin Timberlake and Eminem does nothing towards anyone convincing me – especially if its a Korean person – that they know shit about rap. Unless you are talking Dougie Fresh, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Ice-T (before his role in Colors or New Jack City, fool), or even EPMD – you're not Old School. Yes, my love of rap also coincided with late elementary and early middle school – but importantly, this is also just after rap's maturation out of the South Bronx and Brooklyn in the early 1980's, when it started quickly gaining a broader following amongst black folks, and well before rap was 1) allowed even to be played on MTV, to say nothing of 2) being considered anything other than "black music," or more commonly, a "fad," "garbage," or simply "not real music."

So there is an agreed-upon beginning of rap as a black thing around the middle to the end of the 1980's, so if you didn't like rap since then, you're simply not "old school." This is not belittling your love of rap or comparing how much you might know about it – but we can't let the term "old school" just float along whatever newer generation happens to start getting nostalgic about their high school days.

And in case you're wondering – yes, this does have something to do with Hongdae. But back to my long segue...

Rap was fundamentally harder to like back when I was in middle school. It wasn't allowed on MTV, since it wasn't considered "rock" music (and had too many Black people in it for white audiences). You could only watch it on Black Entertainment Television and nowhere else. You get double old school points if you 1) watched Rap City, or 2) remember that "No, my brother. You's got ta get your own" commercial. BET was so ghetto, you knew only black folks watched it. I think white people just felt uncomfortable and flipped the channel. Black folks gathered around the TV and waited for Run DMC's "Christmas in Hollis" to come on around that time of the year. It was the height of entertainment and fun for me – spoof comedy, rap, and black Santa Claus. That was the shit.

So Hongdae is annoying to me now, since I got to know it when club and bar culture was still a natural part of the landscape, when it had a true underground pedigree – because it was still truly underground. It was a clear and desirable alternative to the mainstream ways of getting drunk and trying to get laid – hotel night clubs (J.J. Mahoney's and Pharaoh anyone?) and the Korean version thereof – the ubiquitous Korean  나이트("night" club). They're all still around, but they've been eclipsed by the unstoppable force of the "club" scene.

Now, back in the day, when clubs were gritty-but-loveable places to go to get your specialized groove on – punk, rock, metal, and rap – you could count on going to a place that was a community of people who loved the same thing and went because it wasn't offered anywhere else (the standard rap entries in the hotel or Korean night clubs were MC Hammer's "Pumps and a Bump" and Seotaiji's "Come Back Home" – once those were played, you were all hip-hopped outta luck for the rest of the night. People who went there all tended to go there because of their type of music – not just to go.

So they weren't there primarily to pick up poontang, find an excuse to act out one's hidden slut, going to act a fool, pose like you got major money, or just conspicuously ignore everyone as if there was nothing so offensive to you as the people dancing around you at that very moment. I mean, that's what you're supposed to do in a normal night club in Korea – not in da "club" in Hongdae. Hongdae was the place where middle and high school Korean kids obsessed with rap donned hidden gear from secret stashes and snuck out the house at night. Then there were the black people whom everyone else seems to either fear or loathe in Korea, who came out to get their shake or sway on. There were more foreigners than in a Korean club, since hip hop and rap weren't mainstream in Korea then, although it was already in the US, but there were a lotta Korean rap heads out there. College kids who had gotten into it were also around, as were the occasional girls who got a kick out of it all, or who were maybe looking to get a little more exotic action than the standard white English teacher action. Up-and-coming Korean rappers and dancers made more than an occasional appearance, and everyone seemed to be friendly, chill, and ready to have a good time.

Now, it's the same fucking commercialized meat market as the night clubs used to be. The very sign of its demise is "Club Day," something that I want to attend like I want a metal spike driven slowly into my skull. Now, some clubs have the unmitigated gall to charge foreign men DOUBLE the entrance fee, since we're obviously no longer wanted. Funny – we were the ones supporting your asses back before hit it big in Korea; now we're just unwanted. On top of the clubs being mere recyclers of commercialized boodie beats made specifically for clubs – the commercialization of rap, combined with the illegalization of sampling, is in itself a tragedy, but that's another rant – I gotta pay twice to just go in? After going to a couple places like that, I vowed never to return to them. I've never seen a more blatant display of discrimination in my life. I guess that's because I never lived during the Jim Crow era. At least now in the States, people have to hide the fact that they don't want certain people entering their stores and places of business. And the funnier thing about that in Korea is – they're discriminating against the very people who used to be their bread-and-butter only less than ten years ago.

And we know the result of "No GI's" policies in certain clubs. It effectively means "No Black People." Maybe that's not the intent, but that's the effect. Ya'll know it's true. No black people in a hip hop club. That's fucking ridiculous. Only in Korea. In this way, Korean people are just like white folks – imitate and steal all the accoutrements of Black cultural cool – then appropriate Black folks out of their own creations.

Want examples? Korean boys walking with faux afros. Girls wearing ghetto fabulous gold name necklaces. Korean getting cornrows. Boys in baggy pants and a strut. Korean rap. R&B. "Big Mamma." Ray Charles nowadays. But a brutha with a Harvard degree can barely get a job teaching English in this country, while any white Canadian high school dropout with a pulse can be getting duckets right off the plane. I'll paraphrase Paul Mooney by saying:

"Everybody wanna be a nigga, but don't nobody want to be [around] a nigga."

Now we got Korean American boys on vacation from college or summer break from Rancho Palos Verdes in LA coming to Korea (and Hongdae a lot) calling themselves "nigga." Now this is from someone who would probably disown his sister if she even talked to a real nigga, but now style as somehow "hard" or otherwise "gangsta." Well, everyone in LA thinks they're a gangsta, it seems. Now, my question to these (and other non-Black folks as well) is:

Why do you feel it necessary to act out your masculinity through perceived notions of Black male masculinity?

Has that ever struck anyone as strange? Why, if you come to Korea, if someone gets you all hot and bothered, causing you to want to talk shit, does it have to come out like, "What's up then? You wanna step to this, bitch?" accompanied by appropriately "black" gesticulations learned from movies and extended versions of rap videos? But these are the kids who got straight A's in high school and are now attending Princeton, intending to get some kind of internship next summer before going on to law school and a life living in the suburbs with Ikea furniture, Sharper Image doodads, an interior from Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Don't get it?  Again, I refer you to the Paul Mooney quote above. These are definitely the same people who will avoid black people assiduously when they are older, moving to lily-white suburbs, and locking their door when a black man in a suit walks too close to their Lexus.

Such Korean Americans are the first type of people who annoy the fuck out of me in Hongdae. Their Korean American female counterparts are quite similar in orientation. It's a waste of space to go on talking about them in detail – just add to the above description a good dose of "princess complex" and you've got the general picture.

Add in certain white dudes over here who try to take advantage of their own novelty and by pulling an Eminem – trying to be an actual, cool "black white guy" – in front of unsuspecting Korean girls, and you've got the basic picture. The more you actually look like Eminem, the better. Of course, there are the white guys who just try to get play from foriegner-worsipping English junkies, but they're a constant anyway.

Throw it all together and you get a club NOT full of hip-hop heads, wanna-be B-boys-and-girls, or people who simply like the music – but rather:

– Korean American posermen trying to be Black or simply "mack," which brings us back to Black
– Korean men trying to be Korean American posermen
– annoying white dudes looking for the next Yumi or Jihye or Sookyung to lay
– Yumis, Jihyes, and Sookyungs who overpronounce their vowels and speak in English unusually loudly, wanting annoying white dudes to lay them (and teach them more English)
– Korean American girls either trying to act like they're Korean girls, or alternatively spending way too much energy bitterly playa-hatin' on Korean girls
– a few straggler white girls being ignored by everybody, except some of the Korean men trying to be Korean American posermen, who are also being ignored by everybody
– a couple of black dudes mixed here and there, amusedly enjoying this whole scene

Now – before ya'll get all bent out of shape, let me just say that sprinkled in here are some chill Korean dudes, fly Korean ladies, cool foreign folks, etc. But they're not the majority anymore, which they used to at one time be.

That's why I'm pissed. It's the posers, punks, princesses, and pricks who make Hongdae suck these days.

This is a post with which I know most of the readers out there are going to simply get, or with which folks will vehemently disagree. But that's the scene as I see it. I first consciously realized when I arrived at that Suwon joint mentioned earlier in this rant.

The Suwon club was fly as hell, populated by the young rapheads, hip-hop hipsters, and interested onlookers I had always remembered. They were simply funky fresh!

And to be fair, I've also hit a couple cool parties in the Hongdae area. Encountered some fly people, but again – they are the exception, not the rule.

Nowadays, the rule is overcrowded, under-air-conditioned, and full of irritating fakes and fools. Foreign men didn't have to pay double at the door. Peeps were basically there to have a good time, were busy escaping the mainstream dullards who danced in large group circles at Korean clubs, pushing each member out in turn to do an especially silly dance. They were avoiding the truly slimy foriegn dudes at J.J. Mahoney's who sometimes had trouble distinguishing between normal and working girls, of whom there were definitely enough to make it confusing.

I won't post pictures of anyone who I'll just go on to just outright insult, so I'll continue to leave that to your imagination. But let me sum up by saying that I hope you have a better idea of why Hongdae sucks. Becoming mainstream has taken the edge away; Hongdae has become the urban equivalent of Madonna's appropriation of "voguing" from the gay underground, suburban white kids who now front "ghetto fabulous" fashion, or the once fresh-but-now-foul ebonical phrase "from the git go" – once everybody's doing it, it just plain bites. No one could seriously vogue after Madonna, white kids in F.U.B.U are snickered at, and soccer moms now use that once Black piece of slang freely. I shudder.

I'm just nostalgic for the days of the Golden Helmet in Hongdae or the Blue Monkey (before it burned down to be reopened as the present abomination that bears no relation to the original). Those of you who know, know.

Biggie Smalls put it best when he said, "Nigga, this ain't back in the day. But you don't hear me, do'."

Word.

The Irrelevance of Truth in Korea

So begins my first real angry rant against the embarrassingly low level of Korean journalism in general, and lack of a sense of professional ethics specifically. After talking with a journalist friend of mine about the possibility of blogging and podcasting about certain topics, I have now come to realize, up close and personal, how little the truth matters in Korean journalism. And before some of you knee-jerk nationalists start tearing your hair out and pounding away at your keyboards, let me just make this clear from the git-go: according to Korean law, having told the truth is completely invalid as a defense against accusations of libel.

For those of you who are already aware of this fact, you can move on down already to a juicier part of this post. For those of you not in the know, think about the chilling effect this has on efforts to report on substantial issues here, as well as the suppressive function this plays in a society that has never really valued a truly independent and critical media. Libel is defined as any news that causes a party damage, regardless of whether or not what has been reported is, in fact, true.

This is irritating as all hell, and according to my knowledge of history, places the Korean media on a par with the state of things for the American media circa 1733, in the case of New York v. John Peter Zenger, when truth wasn't a recognized defense against libel. Oh, wait – even though there was no legal basis for doing so, the court still found for Zenger. So I guess that particular court in the 18th century is still more liberal than one you'd likely find in Korea in 2005.

I don't like to be comparative and thereafter judgmental, but American journalism, despite its many problems, corporate connections, recent pattern of pussyfooting around the President, and general lameness, journalists are still beholden to a high standard of professional ethics.

For example, there was the Jayson Blair embarrassment that plagued the New York Times. Basically, a young reporter had simply reported on things he hadn't actually seen, events he hadn't actually attended, or interviews he actually hadn't conducted, with people he had sometimes not even met. For this, the New York Times received a black eye and perhaps a permanent scar; this was something that, on any level, is completely unacceptable and would lead to the end of any journalist's career.

In Korea, all of the above practices are standard practice. I have personally been asked or privy to conversations in which Korean reporters have asked the promoters or organizers of events to write their own stories, then submit them to the reporter for "cleaning up" and final publication. The mutual benefit is supposed to be that the interested parties get to have a glowing report or review on their event or organization, while the reporter gets to do less work and cool his or her heels.

As a photographer and sometimes de facto photojournalist, I pay close attention to the basic standards of ethics and participate in the extreme handwringing that goes on over how to not step over the many fines lines dividing truth and misrepresentation with visual images. Take the case of Colin Crawford, fired over manipulating a portion of a digital image purely "to improve the composition" – an aesthetic choice, but one which altered reality and crossed way over the line. Yet when he was fired and blackballed from the industry forever, there was no debate at all as to whether he had stepped over the line and indeed deserved to be finished as a photographer forever. Because once you step over that line that divides the very separate worlds of fact and fiction – and no matter how postmodernists want to reduce everything to text and make the very good point that many truths are in fact textual, contextual, or just plain relative, photomanipulation is actively lying if passed off as a raw image – once you step over that line, you lose trust.

Journalists in the States understand the seriousness of making even the tiniest alterations in images, even if there are, of course, infractions, as there inevitably will be. But that's why photo editors and others responsible for preserving journalistic integrity are vigilant against just this kind of abuse and take such actions with a great deal of draconian seriousness. Once you lose the trust of your readers and viewers, once the line between fact and fiction is understood to be porous, you might as well through up your hands, check in your notepads and pens, and leave to reporting to rank amateurs who will make up any story that seems most convenient or palatable. Well, that's what OhMyNews.com is famous for – it's no wonder that it sprang up first in Korea.

Not that "citizen reporting" is bad – as an alternative to a news media that is overwhelmingly rightist and in the pocket of the government, it's no surprise that this pops up as an appealing alternative. But looking at the heaps of the just plain false information and obviously biased reporting that was apparent in the media during late 2002 around the deaths of the two middle school girls, the state of the Korean media is simply embarrassing. Why? The Korean media, taken as a whole, from ample observation of my own as well as the input of friends who have worked in and around the business, is:

Unprofessional. Many of the "reporters" and "interviewers" are little more than college kids with a Sony VX-2000 and a short deadline to get soundbites along the lines of stories already pretty much written. Around the protests, I was approached by several camera "crews" with stickers from major networks on the camera, asking me what I thought "as an American" about the protests. When I offered my opinion that a lot of the anger here revolved around simple misinformation or accepted "facts" of the case that simply weren't true, in difficult-to-redit, complete sentences, they simply went through the motions and made haste to move on. I wasn't giving what they wanted – and angry, crazed American defending his country or the bleeding-heart liberal calling Bush dirty names. I also saw my picture show up on OhMyNews.com with the caption reading something along the lines of "foreign reporter covers the story" without my names or any other attribution. Probably, the photographer was either too lazy to bother or was too sheepish about have to "speak English" with me to get the proper information. Either way, he or she didn't know the proper protocols and didn't really seem too concerned about accuracy.

Unethical. I personally saw photographers posing members of the crowd, changing the compositions of elements of the pictures to make the perfect shot, stopping and interfering with the action of the scene for their convenience, and so on. The sadder thing is that people are used to that and find it acceptable, acquiescing and cooperating for the shot. On the reporting end, every time I have been interviewed by a Korean reporter, my quotes were completely changed into the realm of complete fiction, while words were attributed to me that I never, ever came close to uttering. Proper names were mispelled, dates were completely wrong, and even the basic gist of what I said has been more wrong than right. I've never been recorded to increase accuracy, and in most cases, even without a recorder, the amount of notetaking was light enough to make me nervous. I have seen reporters simply not show up and ask me or another person to simply write the story altogether to simply be submitted to the reporter. In fact, it is so bad that I am completely surprised to see a reporter not just taking good notes or trying to really get the facts straight, but often I am happy to even see the reporter show up at all.

Arrogant. For some reason, one that mostly must have to do with the self-importance that comes with walking around with the authority that comes from having expensive recording equipment and the mobility afforded by a big, laminated "PRESS" pass, Korean journalists are, as a whole, the most arrogant and self-important assholes I have ever seen. I once saw a crew from KBS walk right up to a grandma from the "House of Sharing" which houses former "comfort women" who are very media-savvy and suspicious of people worth being suspected – she was sitting taking a break from loud protesting, eating a bit of lunch, when the newscaster and her camera operator basically tromped through a crowd of kids sitting on the ground and got up in her face and didn't ask, but TOLD her "We're from KBS." Grandma basically told them to fuck off, but the lady kept insisting "But we're from KBS?! Don't you want to do an interview?" to the point where I wanted to go up and kick both their asses myself. Unfortunately, I have never met a non-arrogant news crew like that in Korea; the arrogance itself is something I could tolerate, but it's usually accompanied by either or both of the factors already listed above. This attitude trickles down to even the most juvenile journalistic outfits. At the opening of Suji's in Itaewon, some early-20-something, half-drunk, English-crazed girl came up to me with a camera and said "I wanna take your picture. So get together." I told her I didn't want my picture taken. She informed me, with an air of matter-of-fact arrogance, "It's for K-Scene Magazine," which covers the expat lifestyle here and is the student newspaper of the magazine world. She seemed genuinely shocked that I wasn't jumping at the chance to appear in a badly-done montage of party shots of mostly white men making stupid faces next to mostly red-faced Korean women trying to look non-plussed and cool around these "wild-n-crazy guys" at a (JOY!) real-live Western-style party! I'd rather appear in a love hotel sex scandal video, thank you very much. But she was acting as if she had been Weegee himself, reborn as a Korean girl in a frumpy party dress and bad shoes.

Now, you may be saying to yourself – this post is just me taking straight sucker punch shot at the Korean media. Or you might say it's arrogant of me to hold the Korean media up to American standards. I'd have to agree with you on both points. But it doesn't mean I'm not right.

"Korea" – especially through its media – seems to be constantly demanding more respect from the outside world, and/or more responsibility as a global player, with some of its own weight and influence to throw around. Well, playa, you either play according to big league rules or you get called bush league and thrown back to grow some. One can't have one's cake and eat it, too.

And I'm not complaining about dirty bathrooms or polluted factory towns. Ethical standards and basic professional ettiquette are not expensive, unattainable aspects of rich and monied moderntiy, determined by relative levels of economic development. The old argument "but Korea is still a developing country, cut us some slack" doesn't fly anymore; in fact, those wings should have been clipped some time ago. You don't see the "we're still a developing country" argument when Korea bids to host Olympic Games or major international conferences such as APEC this year.

But when there is an obvious lapse or sign of something left wanting, "poor me" comes out. Spare me. Korea wants to be treated like an international player, a true global citizen who wields great power and commands the world's respect? Then I'll say that Korea's media and sense of ethical conduct is on a par far below the radar of the positive image Korea feels it deserved. But I think that time hasn't come yet.  To put it bluntly, the laws around the media, as well as the ethics held by those who produce it – are simply abysmal and need to be changed. It's simply embarrassing. Or at least it should be.

Podcast #13 - Listener Feedback!

Podcast #13 is served! This one's long, as it gets into listener feedback in a big way, handling all of the major questions and comments submitted since the last time I read a few letters on the air several 'casts ago. We also get a visit from actual listeners who've subscribed to the podcast and then came on out to Korea. Much to your surprise, find out about Korea's relationship to most of the animation you see on American and even Japanese TV. Subscribe directly in iTunes or listen directly from the web.

Here are some links mentioned in the podcast:

The film I talked about as being my favorite Korean film is definitely Flander's Dog, which is what the Korean title for this film is, for which I have heard various English translations, such as Barking Dogs Never Bite and A Higher Animal (which is actually the English title offered in the film itself). Here's the IMDB link.

The Cartoon Museum at the Seoul Animation Center. Erin said this place was top-notch, so get on over there.

Here's website as well as the iTunes link to the podcast of Ninja Consultant, a 'cast about anime and fan culture – with "special attention" being paid to ninjas! Their rapport is great and their banter funny – you a fan of anything, of any type? Their energy is infectious!