- All major brand beers are hurting except for Pabst Blue Ribbon, because hipsters keep drinking it. That's good, because PBR is toxic. [Foreign Policy]
- DoJ announces that it is reviewing accounting irregularities in publicly traded Chinese companies, and their stocks tank. This will be fun. [New York Times: Dealbook]
- Georgetown Law Center had a gunman scare that ended up being nothing. [Above the Law]
- Trivia time: What is the largest American city that is, directly or indirectly, named after a Roman political leader? Hint: it is among the top 100 largest cities in America. [Volokh Conspiracy]
- The legendary Shin Joong-Hyun recalls: "Later, I was playing a 'psychedelic' song and some American hippies – antiwar protesters – came to listen. I became friends with them, and they taught me what psychedelic music really was. They also gave me LSD." [The Guardian] (HT to reader).
- China might be slowing the democratization of Asia. [Boston Globe]
- Radiohead is not coming, you damn dirty hippies. [Slate]
- Mobile strip clubs at NFL tailgates! [NBC]
Friday, September 30, 2011
Today, TK Learned:
... that blog posts with multiple tables must be handled with extreme care.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Suicide in Korea Series: II. The Numbers
[Series Index]
Before there can be any meaningful discussion about suicides inKorea Korea
If you can read Korean, Statistics Korea -- the governmental body that periodically collects national statistics -- has the official collection of Korean death statistics. Here are highlights of suicide-related information that the Korean culled from the overall statistics. Table numbers in the bracket refer to the table numbers in the Statistics Korea page.
Who Commits Suicide?
- [Table 4] Overall, suicide is the fourth leading cause of death inKorea
- [Table 6] In 2009, 15,413 Koreans died from suicide, which is 6.24% of all deaths inKorea
- [Table 6] The number of suicides in 2009, broken down by age and gender:
Before there can be any meaningful discussion about suicides in
If you can read Korean, Statistics Korea -- the governmental body that periodically collects national statistics -- has the official collection of Korean death statistics. Here are highlights of suicide-related information that the Korean culled from the overall statistics. Table numbers in the bracket refer to the table numbers in the Statistics Korea page.
Who Commits Suicide?
- [Table 4] Overall, suicide is the fourth leading cause of death in
- [Table 6] In 2009, 15,413 Koreans died from suicide, which is 6.24% of all deaths in
- [Table 6] The number of suicides in 2009, broken down by age and gender:
Age | Male | Female | Total | Male/Total |
10-19 | 247 | 199 | 446 | 0.55 |
20-29 | 932 | 875 | 1,807 | 0.52 |
30-39 | 1,528 | 1,114 | 2,642 | 0.58 |
40-49 | 2,010 | 846 | 2,856 | 0.7 |
50-59 | 1,965 | 632 | 2,597 | 0.76 |
60-69 | 1,530 | 544 | 2,074 | 0.74 |
70-79 | 1,191 | 708 | 1,899 | 0.63 |
80+ | 521 | 557 | 1,078 | 0.48 |
(Apologies if the tables turn out to be a little wacky -- Blogger does not seem to handle tables very well.)
One can see that the number of suicides peaks at ages 40-49 for men and 30-39 for women. Also notable is that the ratio between male and female suicides. Worldwide, suicide is overwhelmingly a male phenomenon -- in the OECD, male to female suicide rate is more than 3 to 1, or approximately 77% of all suicides. But inKorea
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
One can see that the number of suicides peaks at ages 40-49 for men and 30-39 for women. Also notable is that the ratio between male and female suicides. Worldwide, suicide is overwhelmingly a male phenomenon -- in the OECD, male to female suicide rate is more than 3 to 1, or approximately 77% of all suicides. But in
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Today, TK Learned:
... that a law firm gets awfully quiet on Rosh Hashana.
- If you read Playboy, women will smile at you. [Retronaut]
- Lawyers are like soybeans -- replaceable by machines. [Slate]
- Korea's aging population will cost more than 1% of its GDP growth in 10 years. [The Economist]
- If you weigh 680 pounds, you can get fired for being too fat -- but you can also sue your employer. [Houston Chronicle]
- Value of a college degree can be shown in a number of nifty graphs. [The Atlantic]
- Samsung has come a long way, and is poised to make the next move. [The Economist and The Economist]
- One Korean American (while drunk) misses "the racists of Fenway who used to heckle [his] family." [ESPN: Grantland]
- This year's new law students might be collectively dumber than previous years'. [Above the Law]
- If you earn $100,000 or more, United Arab Emirates is an awesome place to be. Tax-wise, that is. [The Economist]
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Novels on Korean History?
Dear Korean,
I would really enjoy reading something that encompasses the entire history of Korea in novel form, just as “The Covenant” by Michener does for South Africa. Does such a book exist?
Wendel
There are two difficulties with finding a novel that encompasses Korean history. First, Korean history is just too long, arguably stretching all the way back to 2333 B.C.E. if you believe in the Dangun myth. There may be epic novels that cover, say, a 50-year period, but the Korean is not aware of any novel that covers the entirety of Korean history. Second, even if there was such a novel, it would be tough to find it translated into English. This is too bad, because much of Korean fiction draws from various periods in Korean history. For example, recently the best selling novel in Korea was Song of the Sword [칼의 노래] by Kim Hoon, which was written from the perspective of the heroic Admiral Yi Sun-Shin who lived in the 16th century. If you prefer to go even farther back, there is Goguryeo [고구려], a very recent novel by Kim Jin-Myeong that covers Korean kings of the 4th century. It is a pity that these novels are not more widely available to the worldwide readership.
Try as he might, the Korean's first thought was Land by Park Kyong-Ni. It covers Korea in the early 20th century, which is probably more relevant to those who are interested in understanding contemporary Korea. It is also one of the few Korean epic novels that were translated into English. But unfortunately, Land is made up of five parts, and only part 1 is translated -- and part 1 alone is more than a thousand pages. Apparently there are plans to translate the remaining parts, but no one knows just exactly when the entire novel will be translated. (The Korean is not holding his breath -- it took Park 25 years to finish the novel.)
Therefore, the Korean turned to the ultimate authority on this one: Professor Charles Montgomery of Dongguk University, who is the proprietor of the blog, Korean Modern Literature in Translation. How would we trace the history of Korea in translated novels? Below is the response from Prof. Montgomery:
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
I would really enjoy reading something that encompasses the entire history of Korea in novel form, just as “The Covenant” by Michener does for South Africa. Does such a book exist?
Wendel
There are two difficulties with finding a novel that encompasses Korean history. First, Korean history is just too long, arguably stretching all the way back to 2333 B.C.E. if you believe in the Dangun myth. There may be epic novels that cover, say, a 50-year period, but the Korean is not aware of any novel that covers the entirety of Korean history. Second, even if there was such a novel, it would be tough to find it translated into English. This is too bad, because much of Korean fiction draws from various periods in Korean history. For example, recently the best selling novel in Korea was Song of the Sword [칼의 노래] by Kim Hoon, which was written from the perspective of the heroic Admiral Yi Sun-Shin who lived in the 16th century. If you prefer to go even farther back, there is Goguryeo [고구려], a very recent novel by Kim Jin-Myeong that covers Korean kings of the 4th century. It is a pity that these novels are not more widely available to the worldwide readership.
Try as he might, the Korean's first thought was Land by Park Kyong-Ni. It covers Korea in the early 20th century, which is probably more relevant to those who are interested in understanding contemporary Korea. It is also one of the few Korean epic novels that were translated into English. But unfortunately, Land is made up of five parts, and only part 1 is translated -- and part 1 alone is more than a thousand pages. Apparently there are plans to translate the remaining parts, but no one knows just exactly when the entire novel will be translated. (The Korean is not holding his breath -- it took Park 25 years to finish the novel.)
 |
| Yup. This is just Part 1. There are four more parts not translated yet. (source) |
Sounds like an excellent reading plan. Readers, do you have any Korean historical novels that you like? (Please don't talk about historical dramas, the Korean begs of you.)I’d do it in a series of books.
The first book that springs to mind is “Three Generations” by Yeom Sang-seop. It doesn’t cover all of Korean history, but does a good job of a really critical time -- i.e. the 20s and 30s. By invoking the three generations, it actually covers a bit more historical territory. After that I would perhaps read Cho Se-hui’s “The Dwarf” and Yang Kwi-ja’s “A Distant and Beautiful Place” These books would get you adequately through the 80s or so. Then on to Ch’oe Yun’s “There a Petal Silently Falls”, which is at least brief-ish.
To cover Korean War (actually one of my least favorite topics, as the literature is rightfully, but horribly monochromatic) I might also add “Who Ate Up All the Shinga” by Park Wan-Suh. Then “I Have The Right to Destroy Myself" by Kim Young-Ha would get us up into Apgujeong and rampant materialism in contemporary Korea.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Ask a Korean! News: How Justice System Manufactures "Criminals"
Although people are more easily outraged by criminals who evade the law, the Korean is more outraged at the criminal justice system that makes innocent people criminals. Here is a great example of that.
(By the way, this has nothing to do with Korea, just in case you didn't notice.)
The case is Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v. Hart, and this is what happened. In 2007, Mr. Hart, a 35-year-old part-time college student, was driving around when he saw two middle school kids walking in the rain, carrying heavy backpacks. The college student asked them if they wanted a ride, and they declined. Then the middle school kids took the guy's license plate and called the police. The college student turned himself in, and was convicted of attempting to "lure a child into motor vehicle," which is a criminal offense in Pennsylvania. He avoided jail time by getting 18-month probation, but got listed on a sex offender registry because of his conviction.
That alone is ridiculous enough, but just as ridiculous is the description of a case from Pennsylvania Superior Court that that the State used in support of its position, called Commonwealth v. Figueroa:
For the trouble of offering a ride to children after a heavy snowstorm, the defendant in Figueroa is now a convicted criminal listed on the sex offender registry.
Luckily, Mr. Hart fared better -- the Supreme Court overturned his conviction. But it took him four years to get through the court system and vindicate the idea that offering a ride does not amount to a sex offense against minors. (For more information how ridiculously harsh and unjust sex offender registry is, take a look at this Economist article.)
There is a way out of this madness. As democratic citizens, it is incumbent on all of us that we do not get blinded by the sweet appeal of "getting tough on crime." Truth is, we are already pretty damn tough on crime. Whenever there is a proposal for a new crime, we should demand our leaders to think not about what criminals the law will catch, but what innocent acts will be rendered as criminal.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
(By the way, this has nothing to do with Korea, just in case you didn't notice.)
The case is Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v. Hart, and this is what happened. In 2007, Mr. Hart, a 35-year-old part-time college student, was driving around when he saw two middle school kids walking in the rain, carrying heavy backpacks. The college student asked them if they wanted a ride, and they declined. Then the middle school kids took the guy's license plate and called the police. The college student turned himself in, and was convicted of attempting to "lure a child into motor vehicle," which is a criminal offense in Pennsylvania. He avoided jail time by getting 18-month probation, but got listed on a sex offender registry because of his conviction.
That alone is ridiculous enough, but just as ridiculous is the description of a case from Pennsylvania Superior Court that that the State used in support of its position, called Commonwealth v. Figueroa:
In Figueroa, three children were walking on the sidewalk in single-file to their bus stop on the morning after a heavy snowstorm when the defendant pulled out from the driveway of the children’s neighbor, drove up alongside the last girl in line, and asked if she would like a ride to school, whereupon she refused. The defendant then pulled his car forward and asked the first girl in line if she would like a ride to school, and she too declined. After these refusals, the defendant entered another nearby driveway, turned around, and headed in the opposite direction from which the children were walking.
Luckily, Mr. Hart fared better -- the Supreme Court overturned his conviction. But it took him four years to get through the court system and vindicate the idea that offering a ride does not amount to a sex offense against minors. (For more information how ridiculously harsh and unjust sex offender registry is, take a look at this Economist article.)
There is a way out of this madness. As democratic citizens, it is incumbent on all of us that we do not get blinded by the sweet appeal of "getting tough on crime." Truth is, we are already pretty damn tough on crime. Whenever there is a proposal for a new crime, we should demand our leaders to think not about what criminals the law will catch, but what innocent acts will be rendered as criminal.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Today, TK Learned:
... how to sustain a shameless gimmick item for more than one installment! It's like keeping a goldfish alive. Huzzah!
- Throwing out the garbage is a complicated process in Korea, which is one of the reasons why the Korean lives in America. [The Korea Blog]
- Ichiro is slowing down. The Korean remembers his American friends who scoffed at his belief that Ichiro would be an all-star and a hall of famer. They are not scoffing anymore. [New York Times]
- Samsung and Microsoft are joining forces. [Wall Street Journal]
- Erik Spoelstra is half Filipino and visits the Philippines every year. Basketball is huge in the Philippines, apparently. [ESPN: Grantland]
- City of Houston cautions against Fan Death: "Electric fans should only be used in conjunction with an air conditioner. A fan can't change the temperature of a room; it can only accelerate air movement, and will accelerate the body's overheating." [City of Houston Health and Human Services]
- At least one U Penn graduate is an idiot. [Dealbreaker]
- Legal fees are high in Korea, and lawyers are crooks. What else is new? [Korean Law Blog]
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Ask a Korean! News: Cabbage Kimchi
Koreans love kimchi, and regard kimchi made of napa cabbage to be the standard kind. But does that make sense? Here is a good article by Mr. Hwang Gyo-Ik, the Korean's favorite Korean food columnist.
In just 30 years, Koreans forgot the season for napa cabbages -- they began to regard it as available in all four seasons. As the cabbages are not being produced on their natural time of the year, there is a huge yearly variation in production. In particular, summer cabbages depend entirely on the weather of the highlands. Too much rain melts away the summer cabbages, and the market complains of exorbitant prices. One may suggest: "Don't be so dependent on the production of unseasonal summer cabbages; make kimchi with radishes [열무]." But such suggestion is immediately met with a retort: "Cabbage kimchi is essential for a Korean table." There is not a single expert who questions whether it is right for Koreans to have an eating habit that is oblivious to the seasons.
Some may ask: "How is it a bad thing that cabbage kimchi is available in all four seasons thanks to the advancement in farming technologies?" The problem, however, is that raising farm products is not simply the matter of technology. Nature is the absolute condition for growing vegetables; human technology can only supplement. There is a limit to controlling the conditions of growing farm products, and that limit eventually leads to anti-natural results. At that point, a situation may arise in which no one wins -- farmers lose, as do consumers.
Most fields on the highlands are on a hill, which means the water drains well when it rains. As the water goes, so do the soil and the organic matters in the soil. It is difficult to add organic fertilizer to a hilly field located in the highlands. Also, in most cases, the landowner and the farmer are not the same -- which means the farmer has no incentive to keep the land fertile. Simply put, farming in the highlands is predatory. Cabbages growing on infertile land based on predatory farming techniques are prone to contract finger-and-toe disease, which causes their roots to rot. Once there is an outbreak of finger-and-toe disease, all the cabbages on the highlands are good as done.
There is now a modified breed of cabbages that are resistant to the disease, called the "CR". But the CR cabbages taste bad -- the leaves are tough, lack sweetness and smells spicy. To overcome the disease, the cabbage sacrificed the taste. But as the words spread recently that CR cabbages are not tasty, more farmers are back to growing the regular type of napa cabbages. To stave off the diseases, a lot of chemical is required, sprayed practically every time after it rains.
So, the summer cabbages from the highlands are either not tasty or covered in pesticides. That's the choice that the consumer faces. Which cabbage would you eat?
맛이냐 건강이냐 그것이 문제로다: 여름배추의 진실 [Donga Weekly]
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
* * *
Koreans eat cabbage kimchi in all four seasons. There are significantly less people who make a separate batch of winter kimchi as per tradition. The market sells cabbages in all four seasons -- when kimchi runs out, people can simply buy the cabbage and make more. In fact, there is not even the need to make more kimchi. Factory kimchi is sold throughout the year, so people can simply buy it. There is not a day when the home shopping channel fails to sell napa cabbage kimchi. What easy world we live in.
It has not been long since we began eating napa cabbage kimchi like this. Napa cabbage grows at a cool temperature. Napa cabbage seeds were sown in the fall, and the cabbages were harvested in the beginning of winter. Chinese cabbages were barely available in the spring and the winter. Summer cabbages were unthinkable -- the cabbages would melt away in the heat. It was not until the 1970s when summer cabbages appeared in the market. As the highlands of Gangwon-do were cool during summer, farmers there grew cabbages. Around the same time, farmers near the southern coast attempted growing winter cabbages in the winter, enabling cabbage kimchi in the middle of the winter and early spring. Also, the cabbages grown in hothouses in the spring would appear in the market before summer cabbages from the highlands do.
In just 30 years, Koreans forgot the season for napa cabbages -- they began to regard it as available in all four seasons. As the cabbages are not being produced on their natural time of the year, there is a huge yearly variation in production. In particular, summer cabbages depend entirely on the weather of the highlands. Too much rain melts away the summer cabbages, and the market complains of exorbitant prices. One may suggest: "Don't be so dependent on the production of unseasonal summer cabbages; make kimchi with radishes [열무]." But such suggestion is immediately met with a retort: "Cabbage kimchi is essential for a Korean table." There is not a single expert who questions whether it is right for Koreans to have an eating habit that is oblivious to the seasons.
Some may ask: "How is it a bad thing that cabbage kimchi is available in all four seasons thanks to the advancement in farming technologies?" The problem, however, is that raising farm products is not simply the matter of technology. Nature is the absolute condition for growing vegetables; human technology can only supplement. There is a limit to controlling the conditions of growing farm products, and that limit eventually leads to anti-natural results. At that point, a situation may arise in which no one wins -- farmers lose, as do consumers.
Most fields on the highlands are on a hill, which means the water drains well when it rains. As the water goes, so do the soil and the organic matters in the soil. It is difficult to add organic fertilizer to a hilly field located in the highlands. Also, in most cases, the landowner and the farmer are not the same -- which means the farmer has no incentive to keep the land fertile. Simply put, farming in the highlands is predatory. Cabbages growing on infertile land based on predatory farming techniques are prone to contract finger-and-toe disease, which causes their roots to rot. Once there is an outbreak of finger-and-toe disease, all the cabbages on the highlands are good as done.
There is now a modified breed of cabbages that are resistant to the disease, called the "CR". But the CR cabbages taste bad -- the leaves are tough, lack sweetness and smells spicy. To overcome the disease, the cabbage sacrificed the taste. But as the words spread recently that CR cabbages are not tasty, more farmers are back to growing the regular type of napa cabbages. To stave off the diseases, a lot of chemical is required, sprayed practically every time after it rains.
So, the summer cabbages from the highlands are either not tasty or covered in pesticides. That's the choice that the consumer faces. Which cabbage would you eat?
맛이냐 건강이냐 그것이 문제로다: 여름배추의 진실 [Donga Weekly]
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Today, TK Learned:
Here is a new shameless gimmick item -- a quick list of articles that the Korean read. For the Korean's Facebook friends, most of the links can be found on the Korean's Facebook wall. Will the Korean be able to stick to it, or will it meet the fate of the last shameless gimmick item, which is yet to see another installment? We'll see.
- Chang-Rae Lee won Dayton Literary Prize for The Surrendered. Congratulations! [KoreAm]
- Andrew Cohen of The Atlantic has a similar view on death penalty as the Korean. [The Atlantic]
- The way a trader thinks is "different from a human being" because a trader always sees the bright side of the recession. [New York Times: Dealbook]
- Democracy roughly correlates with gender equality. [The Economist]
- More federal crimes mean The Man hardly needs to prove anything to put you in prison. [Wall Street Journal]
- An economist thinks Korea has the lowest chance of currency crisis in Asia. [Yonhap]
- "Bosses think their firms are caring. Their minions disagree." [The Economist]
- Baby pandas are very cute. [Dong-A Ilbo through Reuters]
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Nominees for the Best Post of AAK! -- First Five Years
Here are all the AAK! posts nominated by the readers for the five year anniversary extravaganza:
If you are a relatively new reader to the blog, you could use this as a guide for exploring older posts that other people liked. As always, thank you for reading!
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
- Korea-Japan Relation Saga, Part III – WWII (Feb. 23, 2007)The Korean is very happy to see that there was not too much over-representation of the more recent posts. Thank you all for the nominations. The voting is open until the 11:59 p.m. (EST) of October 20, 2011.
- Open Letter to Non-Asian People (Aug. 22, 2007)
- Korean Language Lessons - Particle I (Classificational Particles) (Nov. 26, 2007)
- The Ultimate Korean Looks List – How to Pick Koreans from Other Asians Just by Looking at Them (Sept. 8, 2008)
- How Dare You Call Me by My Name! (Nov. 11, 2008)
- Lesson in Cultural Gap through an Exercise of Translation (Dec. 9, 2008)
- Fan Death is Real (Jan. 7, 2009)
- Protests in Korea (May 15, 2009)
- Dog – It’s What’s for Dinner (Aug. 30, 2009)
- 2PM, Jaebeom, and Korea's Internet Culture (Dec. 4, 2009)
- The Korean's English Acquisition, and the Best Method to Master a Foreign Language, Guaranteed (Jan. 14, 2010)
- Why is StarCraft Popular in Korea? (Feb. 19, 2010)
- How to Hold Jesa (Sept. 19, 2010)
- Still More about Korean Names! (Oct. 26, 2010)
- Confucianism and Korea - Part II: What is Confucianism? (Jan. 6, 2011)
- Ask a Korean! News: North Korean Riot in 1998 (Jan. 26, 2011)
- God Loves Tiger Moms (Mar. 1, 2011)
- A Retrospective on Identity: State of a Gyopo at Age 30 (Mar. 18, 2011)
- Why You Should Never Listen to Asian American "Writers" of Angst (May 9, 2011)
- Another Person's Room (Aug. 11, 2011)
- Language Split Personalities? (Sept. 13, 2011)
If you are a relatively new reader to the blog, you could use this as a guide for exploring older posts that other people liked. As always, thank you for reading!
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Friday, September 23, 2011
50 Most Influential K-Pop Artists: 25. Panic
[Series Index]
25. Panic [패닉]
Years of Activity: 1995-present? (Last regular album in 2005, currently performing individually.)
Members:
Lee Juck [이적] - Vocal
Kim Jin-Pyo [김진표] - Rap
Discography:
Panic 1 [패닉 1] (1995)
Beneath [밑] (1996)
Sea Within (1998)
Panic 04 (2005)
Representative Song: Lefty [왼손잡이], from Panic 1.
Translation note: The lyrics are so elegant and intuitive in Korean, and ugly and clunky in English. The Korean simply failed to translate 모른 척 and 그런 눈으로 욕하지마 in an elegant way. Suggestions are welcome.
In 15 words or less: Gifted musician and skilled rapper, united through a rebellious spirit.
Maybe they should be ranked higher because... Korean culture now commonly uses the word "Lefty" to describe "an eccentric" (with a positive connotation.) That's influence.
Maybe they should be ranked lower because... Can we really say Panic truly broke any new ground in terms of music?
Why is this group important?
The Korean is certain that when the entire history of K-pop is examined, mid-1990s will prove to be a very important inflection point. Critics often characterize the songs of this period as songs laden with social criticism. That description is not entirely accurate -- Kim Min-Gi's A Little Pond, for example, was as socially critical in 1971 as any of the songs of the mid-1990s. The difference between the protest songs of the 1970s and 1980s and the rebellious songs of the 1990s is the latter's overt cynicism. While the protest songs euphemistically sang for hope and brighter future, the 1990s songs bared their teeth and snidely mocked the world.
Panic, debuted in 1995, would be one of the main producers of such songs. At their debut, the profile of Panic's membership was itself newsworthy -- Lee Juck was attending the prestigious Seoul National University, and Kim Jin-Pyo was a high school senior. Their first hit song was a soft rock that was not particularly special in terms of music. (You can listen to it here.) The rest of the first album was filled with lyrics dripping with rebelliousness expressed with slightly twisted cynicism, but relatively few people noticed at the time.
Ironically, people began noticing the true merit of Panic's first album as Panic, in their groundbreaking second album, pushed its rebelliousness toward Tim Burton-esque creepiness. The album jacket's design says it all:
Except for the title song that blatantly pandered to the public taste, Beneath stabbed at social issues with razor-sharp lyrics. Teachers engaging in corporal punishment were "dirty dense beasts." Overbearing mothers were met with threats of suicide. People wantonly kill a clown hanging by a thread, and the three sons of the dead clown take revenge by (among other things) cutting people open. It was, arguably, the farthest that any mainstream Korean band has ever gone to date.
The song Lefty received a renewed spotlight as Beneath was creating a sensation. Traditionally (as is the case in many parts of the world,) Koreans considered left-handedness a bad luck. Left-handed children were forced to learn to eat and write with their right hand. To that tradition that oppressed on the accident of birth, Lefty asked: "Just leave me alone, because I won't ruin anything." The word "lefty" became a symbol for the new generation of Koreans -- independent, skeptical of authority and diverse.
Interesting trivia 1: Lee Juck's real name is Lee Dong-Joon. He chose the stage name "Juck" from the Chinese character for a flute (笛).
Interesting trivia 2: Aside from his music career, Kim Jin-Pyo is also a professional race car driver. He is also the host for Korean version of the TV show Top Gear.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
25. Panic [패닉]
Years of Activity: 1995-present? (Last regular album in 2005, currently performing individually.)
Members:
Lee Juck [이적] - Vocal
Kim Jin-Pyo [김진표] - Rap
Discography:
Panic 1 [패닉 1] (1995)
Beneath [밑] (1996)
Sea Within (1998)
Panic 04 (2005)
Representative Song: Lefty [왼손잡이], from Panic 1.
왼손잡이
Lefty
나를 봐 내 작은 모습을
Look at me, this little me,
너는 언제든지 웃을 수 있니
Can you always laugh
너라도 날 보고 한번쯤
Just once, could you just
그냥 모른 척해 줄 순 없겠니
Pretend like I'm not here
하지만 때론 세상이 뒤집어진다고
But you say sometimes the world turns upside down
나같은 아이 한둘이 어지럽힌다고
And you say one or two kids like me mess it all up
모두 다 똑같은 손을 들어야 한다고
And you say everyone should raise the same hand
그런 눈으로 욕하지마
Don't chastise me with your eyes like that
난 아무것도 망치지 않아
I won't ruin anything
난 왼손잡이야
I'm a lefty
나나 나나나나나나나나 나나나나나나나
Nana- Nananananananana Nananananana
Lefty
나를 봐 내 작은 모습을
Look at me, this little me,
너는 언제든지 웃을 수 있니
Can you always laugh
너라도 날 보고 한번쯤
Just once, could you just
그냥 모른 척해 줄 순 없겠니
Pretend like I'm not here
하지만 때론 세상이 뒤집어진다고
But you say sometimes the world turns upside down
나같은 아이 한둘이 어지럽힌다고
And you say one or two kids like me mess it all up
모두 다 똑같은 손을 들어야 한다고
And you say everyone should raise the same hand
그런 눈으로 욕하지마
Don't chastise me with your eyes like that
난 아무것도 망치지 않아
I won't ruin anything
난 왼손잡이야
I'm a lefty
나나 나나나나나나나나 나나나나나나나
Nana- Nananananananana Nananananana
Translation note: The lyrics are so elegant and intuitive in Korean, and ugly and clunky in English. The Korean simply failed to translate 모른 척 and 그런 눈으로 욕하지마 in an elegant way. Suggestions are welcome.
In 15 words or less: Gifted musician and skilled rapper, united through a rebellious spirit.
Maybe they should be ranked higher because... Korean culture now commonly uses the word "Lefty" to describe "an eccentric" (with a positive connotation.) That's influence.
Maybe they should be ranked lower because... Can we really say Panic truly broke any new ground in terms of music?
Why is this group important?
The Korean is certain that when the entire history of K-pop is examined, mid-1990s will prove to be a very important inflection point. Critics often characterize the songs of this period as songs laden with social criticism. That description is not entirely accurate -- Kim Min-Gi's A Little Pond, for example, was as socially critical in 1971 as any of the songs of the mid-1990s. The difference between the protest songs of the 1970s and 1980s and the rebellious songs of the 1990s is the latter's overt cynicism. While the protest songs euphemistically sang for hope and brighter future, the 1990s songs bared their teeth and snidely mocked the world.
Panic, debuted in 1995, would be one of the main producers of such songs. At their debut, the profile of Panic's membership was itself newsworthy -- Lee Juck was attending the prestigious Seoul National University, and Kim Jin-Pyo was a high school senior. Their first hit song was a soft rock that was not particularly special in terms of music. (You can listen to it here.) The rest of the first album was filled with lyrics dripping with rebelliousness expressed with slightly twisted cynicism, but relatively few people noticed at the time.
Ironically, people began noticing the true merit of Panic's first album as Panic, in their groundbreaking second album, pushed its rebelliousness toward Tim Burton-esque creepiness. The album jacket's design says it all:
 |
| 밑 ["Beneath"], Panic's second album (source) |
The song Lefty received a renewed spotlight as Beneath was creating a sensation. Traditionally (as is the case in many parts of the world,) Koreans considered left-handedness a bad luck. Left-handed children were forced to learn to eat and write with their right hand. To that tradition that oppressed on the accident of birth, Lefty asked: "Just leave me alone, because I won't ruin anything." The word "lefty" became a symbol for the new generation of Koreans -- independent, skeptical of authority and diverse.
Interesting trivia 1: Lee Juck's real name is Lee Dong-Joon. He chose the stage name "Juck" from the Chinese character for a flute (笛).
Interesting trivia 2: Aside from his music career, Kim Jin-Pyo is also a professional race car driver. He is also the host for Korean version of the TV show Top Gear.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Book Review: My Korean Deli by Ben Ryder Howe (2011)
Sometimes, the Korean forgets how strange he could appear in America.
My Korean Deli is a delightful story. Howe, an editor (at the time of the memoir) of the esteemed literary magazine The Paris Review, buys a convenience store in Brooklyn with his Korean American wife Gab. The memoir chronicles the many adventures of Howe in the course of running the deli as a (self-described) hilariously unqualified white-collar WASP. It is a nice setup that features two main personalities. On the side of Howe's life that involves esoteric mental work, there is Howe's boss George Plimpton -- a wealthy overgrown frat boy with his head in the clouds, cavorting in fabulous parties and supporting the arts. On the side that involves gritty manual labor, there is Howe's mother-in-law Kay -- no-nonsense immigrant with impossibly thick skin, working until she has a heart attack and coming back to work just a few weeks later.
Howe is a great story teller. If he could speak like he could write, you would love having a beer with him. His prose is smooth, at times maybe a little glib. With his deadpan and self-effacing sense of humor, the book frequently reduced the Korean to a collapsed pile of laughing rubble. Howe's eyes are keen for details, and are firmly fixated on people around him rather than himself. He selectively deploys humorous exaggerations that, if taken out of context, might be a wee bit offensive. (A reader of this blog emailed about how she was annoyed by Howe's description of kimchi -- how it "gives the breath that can kill mice in the walls".) The portrait of Kay -- tiny Korean grandmother taking a drag of smoke while wearing a sleeveless shirt that says "Costa Rica!" -- is not necessarily flattering.
But intents are what offends, not words. Howe does not offend because he clearly approaches his subjects with love and warmth. He goes through great lengths to describe just how out of his elements he was, and just how strange people around him seemed. In fact, if I took anything away from My Korean Deli, it was that despite well-meaning people's best efforts, Korean Americans (along with a lot of other New Yorkers) can appear really strange and incomprehensible. Howe handles this quite admirably; he is honest about his frustrations, but at no point does a reader feel that he lets his frustrations slip into a cold blooded hatred. When bad things happen to Kay or Dwayne -- a large, foul-mouthed and big-hearted black man who works at the deli -- one would get choked up along with Howe.
The appeal of My Korean Deli for Korean American readers, however, goes beyond its discussion of Korean Americana. Despite Howe's profuse description of the difference between him and Korean Americans around him, Howe is actually not that different from Korean Americans of his generation: generally in white-collar profession, little experience in the gritty parts of life, and unable to truly understand Korean Americans of our parents' generation even as we love them dearly. (After all, that is probably why Howe married his wife.) Often, the Korean found himself to be more affected by Howe's account of his life at the Paris Review -- as much as Howe has a vague sense that his work as a literary editor is somewhat BS, the Korean also has a vague sense that his work as a corporate lawyer is somewhat BS.
All in all, My Korean Deli is a fun read. The Korean recommends it.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Ask a Korean! Wiki: What is Your Favorite AAK! Post?
Dear readers,
The five year anniversary of Ask a Korean! is drawing close. The Korean is preparing a big five year anniversary special, and needs your help here.
Please nominate your favorite AAK! posts. You can nominate them in the comment section here. The Korean will take the nominations until the next Sunday, September 25. Then there will be a poll on the blog to pick the Top 10 Posts of AAK!, to be revealed at the five-year anniversary. (Single posts only -- if you liked a series, like Korea-Japan relations series or Confucianism series, please nominate your favorite post within that series.)
As always, thank you all for reading!
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
The five year anniversary of Ask a Korean! is drawing close. The Korean is preparing a big five year anniversary special, and needs your help here.
Please nominate your favorite AAK! posts. You can nominate them in the comment section here. The Korean will take the nominations until the next Sunday, September 25. Then there will be a poll on the blog to pick the Top 10 Posts of AAK!, to be revealed at the five-year anniversary. (Single posts only -- if you liked a series, like Korea-Japan relations series or Confucianism series, please nominate your favorite post within that series.)
As always, thank you all for reading!
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Ask a Korean! Wiki: Pleasing to Korean Ear?
Dear Korean,
When I first saw Korean written, I thought it looked very cool; sleek and modern, I guess. And then when I heard it spoken, it sounded very harsh to me. In addition to English, I speak Hebrew, and whenever I ask other Americans what they think of the sound, they often reply that it sounds like a mixture of Arabic, French, and sometimes Russian. I think this is a pretty fair assessment. But, like my sentiments with spoken Korean, most of the people rated Hebrew low on the "pleasing to the ear" scale.
As an over-generalization, many Americans, myself included, like the general sound of languages like French and Italian, and dislike the sound of languages like Chinese and German. To me personally, when it comes to English and Hebrew, I have virtually no opinion one way or the other. They both sound normal to me. I don't see a pattern in terms of country of origin informing language preference, and so I was wondering what the Korean's perspective on this was. Surely, Koreans must find certain languages pleasing to the ear and others not, right? What does the "average Korean" think of some of the languages out there.
Sort of a weird question, but it was something I am always interested to find out.
Mr. Inaudible
As to the Korean himself, he has no particular feeling toward how Korean or American English sounds. Japanese, European Spanish, Italian and Cantonese sound quite pleasant, while Mandarin Chinese, Caribbean/South American Spanish, Hindi and German are little tough on the ear. The Korean's absolute favorite "language sound" is probably South African English, spoken with Xhosa accent.
The Korean is not certain if "pleasing to the ear" thing depends on the nationality, but why not ask around? Readers, have your say. What is your nationality, and what languages do you like/dislike to hear?
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
When I first saw Korean written, I thought it looked very cool; sleek and modern, I guess. And then when I heard it spoken, it sounded very harsh to me. In addition to English, I speak Hebrew, and whenever I ask other Americans what they think of the sound, they often reply that it sounds like a mixture of Arabic, French, and sometimes Russian. I think this is a pretty fair assessment. But, like my sentiments with spoken Korean, most of the people rated Hebrew low on the "pleasing to the ear" scale.
As an over-generalization, many Americans, myself included, like the general sound of languages like French and Italian, and dislike the sound of languages like Chinese and German. To me personally, when it comes to English and Hebrew, I have virtually no opinion one way or the other. They both sound normal to me. I don't see a pattern in terms of country of origin informing language preference, and so I was wondering what the Korean's perspective on this was. Surely, Koreans must find certain languages pleasing to the ear and others not, right? What does the "average Korean" think of some of the languages out there.
Sort of a weird question, but it was something I am always interested to find out.
Mr. Inaudible
As to the Korean himself, he has no particular feeling toward how Korean or American English sounds. Japanese, European Spanish, Italian and Cantonese sound quite pleasant, while Mandarin Chinese, Caribbean/South American Spanish, Hindi and German are little tough on the ear. The Korean's absolute favorite "language sound" is probably South African English, spoken with Xhosa accent.
The Korean is not certain if "pleasing to the ear" thing depends on the nationality, but why not ask around? Readers, have your say. What is your nationality, and what languages do you like/dislike to hear?
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Suicide in Korea Series: I. Introduction
[Series Index]
Dear Korean,
I have a BIG question, what is the deep dark secret of South Korea?
We are semi-professional backpackers, and we were in Seoul for 2 months last year. We had an odd feeling that South Korea was TOO perfect, low taxes, high employment, low crime -- no I make a mistake -- ZERO crime. I left my motorbike in Seoul with the keys in the ignition all night in Mapo-gu and it wasn't stolen. Pefect transport system, the only bad point was the agressive driving which is nothing compared to London driving which is 400% more agressive than Seoul. Even homeless beggars on the streets would keep their belongings in neat rows and be clean and shaven and neatly dressed and politely ask you for a bottle of Soju or something. Also kind old ladies wouldn't kick us out of all you can eat places like they normally do, after our 23rd bimibap serving.
In that it felt a bit like the film The Stepford wives, in that there is something huge and deeply darkly secret in S Korea that is unmentionable. You know as a form of counter balance to the positive sides of S Korea. You know the old Yin Yang thing.
So straight up, what is the deep dark secret?
Ken M.
Obviously, Ken M.'s praise for Korea is a bit over the top -- no country is "TOO perfect." But his question does set up an interesting contrast.
As far as countries go, Korea is pretty good. It is in the first world, which means Korea rarely has difficulty taking care of the basic needs of its citizens. There may be poverty, but no one starves or dies from rampant epidemic caused by unhygenic conditions. As Ken pointed out, Korea's taxes are quite low compared to other developed countries. Korea's national health insurance is top-notch. Unemployment is also low in Korea -- although youth unemployment is somewhat high in Korea (especially since the 1997 East Asian Financial Crisis), it is nonexistent compared to, say, Spain's astounding 46.2% youth unemployment. The wealth gap between the rich and the poor, although increasing rapidly in recent years, is still small enough that Korea is one of the more egalitarian countries in the developed world. Plenty of crimes happen in Korea, but overall Korea's crime rate is on the low side.
So, Korea has a lot of good things going for it. Then this question becomes quite unavoidable -- why are Koreans in such a hurry to exit their lives?
The grim statistics have been become too familiar. In 2009, Korea's suicide rate per 100,000 people was OECD-leading 21.5, outpacing Hungary (21) and Japan (19.1). Korea's suicide problem has been covered around the world, and the list of prominent people who ended their own lives include a former president, several A-list celebrities as well as numerous school children.
To begin this series that will explore the various aspects of Korea's suicide issue, the Korean believed Ken's question was particularly appropriate -- although not because suicide is Korea's deep, dark secret. As a trend well-covered in national and international media, Korea's high suicide rate is hardly a secret. Korea's true deep, dark secret is unnoticed by casual observers, and its reach is much greater than the suicide issue.
What is Korea's deep, dark secret? The secret is that Korea, as a society, condones an incredible level of ruthlessness and cruelty to those who lose out in the social competition. It is not possible to understand the suicide issue in Korea without understanding this: modern Korean society is premised on competition at the level unfathomable for most people outside of Korea, and absolutely no mercy is shown to those who lose. Precisely how this interacts with Korea's suicide issue will be the first meaningful step toward gaining insight into Korea's suicide problems, and possibly devising a way to reverse the trend.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Dear Korean,
I have a BIG question, what is the deep dark secret of South Korea?
We are semi-professional backpackers, and we were in Seoul for 2 months last year. We had an odd feeling that South Korea was TOO perfect, low taxes, high employment, low crime -- no I make a mistake -- ZERO crime. I left my motorbike in Seoul with the keys in the ignition all night in Mapo-gu and it wasn't stolen. Pefect transport system, the only bad point was the agressive driving which is nothing compared to London driving which is 400% more agressive than Seoul. Even homeless beggars on the streets would keep their belongings in neat rows and be clean and shaven and neatly dressed and politely ask you for a bottle of Soju or something. Also kind old ladies wouldn't kick us out of all you can eat places like they normally do, after our 23rd bimibap serving.
In that it felt a bit like the film The Stepford wives, in that there is something huge and deeply darkly secret in S Korea that is unmentionable. You know as a form of counter balance to the positive sides of S Korea. You know the old Yin Yang thing.
So straight up, what is the deep dark secret?
Ken M.
Obviously, Ken M.'s praise for Korea is a bit over the top -- no country is "TOO perfect." But his question does set up an interesting contrast.
As far as countries go, Korea is pretty good. It is in the first world, which means Korea rarely has difficulty taking care of the basic needs of its citizens. There may be poverty, but no one starves or dies from rampant epidemic caused by unhygenic conditions. As Ken pointed out, Korea's taxes are quite low compared to other developed countries. Korea's national health insurance is top-notch. Unemployment is also low in Korea -- although youth unemployment is somewhat high in Korea (especially since the 1997 East Asian Financial Crisis), it is nonexistent compared to, say, Spain's astounding 46.2% youth unemployment. The wealth gap between the rich and the poor, although increasing rapidly in recent years, is still small enough that Korea is one of the more egalitarian countries in the developed world. Plenty of crimes happen in Korea, but overall Korea's crime rate is on the low side.
So, Korea has a lot of good things going for it. Then this question becomes quite unavoidable -- why are Koreans in such a hurry to exit their lives?
The grim statistics have been become too familiar. In 2009, Korea's suicide rate per 100,000 people was OECD-leading 21.5, outpacing Hungary (21) and Japan (19.1). Korea's suicide problem has been covered around the world, and the list of prominent people who ended their own lives include a former president, several A-list celebrities as well as numerous school children.
To begin this series that will explore the various aspects of Korea's suicide issue, the Korean believed Ken's question was particularly appropriate -- although not because suicide is Korea's deep, dark secret. As a trend well-covered in national and international media, Korea's high suicide rate is hardly a secret. Korea's true deep, dark secret is unnoticed by casual observers, and its reach is much greater than the suicide issue.
What is Korea's deep, dark secret? The secret is that Korea, as a society, condones an incredible level of ruthlessness and cruelty to those who lose out in the social competition. It is not possible to understand the suicide issue in Korea without understanding this: modern Korean society is premised on competition at the level unfathomable for most people outside of Korea, and absolutely no mercy is shown to those who lose. Precisely how this interacts with Korea's suicide issue will be the first meaningful step toward gaining insight into Korea's suicide problems, and possibly devising a way to reverse the trend.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Language Split Personalities?
Dear Korean,
Recently I've been speaking more and more Korean. I'm not to a point in fluency yet where I'm at all automatic -- when I speak or listen to or read Korean, there is still a very large disconnect, emotionally. But it has started to dawn on me how different I seem to others in Korean. Obviously, that difference is stark to those around me who don't speak any English. I go from being mute and completely indiscernible to someone with thoughts. But the difference is also legitimate to people who know me well in English. And I'm starting to be able to feel how different the people I know in English are in Korean as well. I'm starting to genuinely understand what it means when a Korean coworker or friend will occasionally sigh and say, "I wish you could know me in Korean."
Part of that obviously is an issue of fluency, but I feel like part of it is also an issue of "personality" through language. I'm only just beginning to understand these things. But, as someone who is fluent in both languages and who also had to adjust to an entirely different culture, I'm wondering how The Korean felt his identity change not through culture, but through language. Obviously, the culture of the two languages themselves is inherently different. But, I can't help but feel like you must have people in your life who know you equally well in both languages -- do they know two different TKs, or, once you reached a certain level of fluency, did the language identities meld?
Sincerely curious,
I'm no Picasso
Dear INP,
Indeed you came to the right place. Becoming a bilingual is an interesting experience, and even more so if the cultures embedded in the two languages are very different -- really, there is nothing quite like it. The Korean can only speak out of his own experience, but he suspects that his experience is not uncommon. Switching languages is not like switching from a black pen to a blue pen. By switching languages, one drags with oneself many things that depend on the language, like manners, customs and appropriate level of politeness. This "language baggage" presumably will be much greater if one is learning a new language while being surrounded by the language-users, as did the Korean or INP.
As frequent readers of this blog would know, the Korean learned English rather late in the game, after he moved to the U.S. For the first few months of learning English, the Korean mostly focused on going from Korean to English. That is, the Korean's initial language learning was to learn English words, punch them into Korean expressions, hoping to get himself understood. But once language learning began gaining steam and the Korean's knowledge of English went past the critical mass, English learning got on its own track. Instead of attempting to learn more English by referring back to Korean, the Korean began taking in more English through English.
In my estimation, this was the crucial moment where I could feel a sense of divergence in my personality as I switched languages. After all, by learning English, I was trying to do a lot more than getting myself understood. I was trying to be an American in all relevant aspects. I wanted to blend in, as if I had been always here. Once I began accumulating more English with English, I essentially acquired the lens through which I could see the American mindset, by which my further English learning was guided.
Although I have consistently emphasized rote memorization in language learning and railed against the wishful "learning by immersion," I will say this about immersion: immersion is necessary if you want to take your language ability from "fluent" to "native-like". This is because the wall separating "fluent" and "native-like" actually has little to do with language. Instead, it has everything to do with the particular manner in which the language is used, either deliberately or subconsciously chosen among many valid alternatives. "Splendid!" means approximately the same as "Cool!" But only one of the two phrases, spoken by a typical American high school student, sounds natural.
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Recently I've been speaking more and more Korean. I'm not to a point in fluency yet where I'm at all automatic -- when I speak or listen to or read Korean, there is still a very large disconnect, emotionally. But it has started to dawn on me how different I seem to others in Korean. Obviously, that difference is stark to those around me who don't speak any English. I go from being mute and completely indiscernible to someone with thoughts. But the difference is also legitimate to people who know me well in English. And I'm starting to be able to feel how different the people I know in English are in Korean as well. I'm starting to genuinely understand what it means when a Korean coworker or friend will occasionally sigh and say, "I wish you could know me in Korean."
Part of that obviously is an issue of fluency, but I feel like part of it is also an issue of "personality" through language. I'm only just beginning to understand these things. But, as someone who is fluent in both languages and who also had to adjust to an entirely different culture, I'm wondering how The Korean felt his identity change not through culture, but through language. Obviously, the culture of the two languages themselves is inherently different. But, I can't help but feel like you must have people in your life who know you equally well in both languages -- do they know two different TKs, or, once you reached a certain level of fluency, did the language identities meld?
Sincerely curious,
I'm no Picasso
Dear INP,
Indeed you came to the right place. Becoming a bilingual is an interesting experience, and even more so if the cultures embedded in the two languages are very different -- really, there is nothing quite like it. The Korean can only speak out of his own experience, but he suspects that his experience is not uncommon. Switching languages is not like switching from a black pen to a blue pen. By switching languages, one drags with oneself many things that depend on the language, like manners, customs and appropriate level of politeness. This "language baggage" presumably will be much greater if one is learning a new language while being surrounded by the language-users, as did the Korean or INP.
As frequent readers of this blog would know, the Korean learned English rather late in the game, after he moved to the U.S. For the first few months of learning English, the Korean mostly focused on going from Korean to English. That is, the Korean's initial language learning was to learn English words, punch them into Korean expressions, hoping to get himself understood. But once language learning began gaining steam and the Korean's knowledge of English went past the critical mass, English learning got on its own track. Instead of attempting to learn more English by referring back to Korean, the Korean began taking in more English through English.
In my estimation, this was the crucial moment where I could feel a sense of divergence in my personality as I switched languages. After all, by learning English, I was trying to do a lot more than getting myself understood. I was trying to be an American in all relevant aspects. I wanted to blend in, as if I had been always here. Once I began accumulating more English with English, I essentially acquired the lens through which I could see the American mindset, by which my further English learning was guided.
Although I have consistently emphasized rote memorization in language learning and railed against the wishful "learning by immersion," I will say this about immersion: immersion is necessary if you want to take your language ability from "fluent" to "native-like". This is because the wall separating "fluent" and "native-like" actually has little to do with language. Instead, it has everything to do with the particular manner in which the language is used, either deliberately or subconsciously chosen among many valid alternatives. "Splendid!" means approximately the same as "Cool!" But only one of the two phrases, spoken by a typical American high school student, sounds natural.
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Ask a Korean! News: Pizza on Jesa Table?
This photo is generating an interesting online controversy in Korea.
As the Korean covered previously, jesa is a traditional ritual in which the family gets together to commemorate the ancestors. (A jesa held on chuseok and other holidays are called charye [차례].) Jesa follows a strict guideline in all aspects, including what to put on the table and the order in which those items will be arranged.
Needless to say, pizza does not really fall under that guideline -- hence the controversy. Those who favor it tend to argue that it is appropriate as long as the particular ancestor liked pizza, and it would reduce work on the part of the women who have to prepare the food through backbreaking labor. Those who oppose tend to argue that tradition must be respected, and simply ordering a takeout is a poor showing for a ritual that is supposed to honor one's ancestors.
The Korean is not sure if he supports or opposes, but he knows one thing for sure -- this ain't happening in his house.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
 |
| Yup, you are seeing it correctly -- a jesa table with fruits, traditional snacks, and a cheese pizza. (source) |
Needless to say, pizza does not really fall under that guideline -- hence the controversy. Those who favor it tend to argue that it is appropriate as long as the particular ancestor liked pizza, and it would reduce work on the part of the women who have to prepare the food through backbreaking labor. Those who oppose tend to argue that tradition must be respected, and simply ordering a takeout is a poor showing for a ritual that is supposed to honor one's ancestors.
The Korean is not sure if he supports or opposes, but he knows one thing for sure -- this ain't happening in his house.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
The Chuseok Moon
Dear Korean,
What is the significance of the moon in modern Chuseok celebrations? E.g., are modern Chuseok celebrations more moon-focused than Easter? The date of Easter is also set by the moon (Sunday of the first full moon after spring equinox). Also, the special Easter food the hot cross bun is believed to have originated as symbolizing the four quarters of the moon. You could say the origins of Easter revolve around the moon. However, nobody in modern times thinks of Easter as a lunar celebration (the eggs, rabbits and Christian elements being the main focus now). How does that compare with Chuseok, where the main focus seems to be on family ceremonies?
Eemo
Monday, September 12 is the official day of chuseok, one of the most important traditional Korean holidays. Hope you did not forget to bow before your ancestors and enjoy some delicious songpyeon.
The question is rather interesting. The moon is very significant for chuseok, not in the least because chuseok's date is set by the lunar calendar. Chuseok is always August 15 by lunar calendar, when the moon is said to be biggest and brightest. Songpyeon, a type of rice cake that is the highlight of chuseok food, is shaped to mimic the shape of the moon. But how big of a role does the moon play in modern celebrations of chuseok?
Probably the right answer is: not as big of a role as it played traditionally, but still a very significant role. It is true that in the modern days, people rarely have celebrations that are explicitly connected to the moon, like ganggangsullae [강강술래] -- a communal "moon dance" where people (usually women) sing and dance in a circle under the chuseok moonlight.
However, although modern Koreans rarely engage in chuseok celebrations that are explicitly connected to the moon, chuseok is still very much thought of as a type of moon celebration. Koreans still constantly refer to the bright chuseok moon. For example, in last week's episode of the hit reality show "I am a Singer" [나는 가수다], one of the singers quipped about the fact that he had to sing a song callled "The Moon's Ruin" [달의 몰락] on the chuseok weekend. Also, a quick Google Image search for the word 추석 results in a lot of images that feature the moon.
With that said, enjoy the chuseok moon everyone. The Korean Family will cook up some Korean party food, invite some people over, and look into the full moon as well.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
What is the significance of the moon in modern Chuseok celebrations? E.g., are modern Chuseok celebrations more moon-focused than Easter? The date of Easter is also set by the moon (Sunday of the first full moon after spring equinox). Also, the special Easter food the hot cross bun is believed to have originated as symbolizing the four quarters of the moon. You could say the origins of Easter revolve around the moon. However, nobody in modern times thinks of Easter as a lunar celebration (the eggs, rabbits and Christian elements being the main focus now). How does that compare with Chuseok, where the main focus seems to be on family ceremonies?
Eemo
Monday, September 12 is the official day of chuseok, one of the most important traditional Korean holidays. Hope you did not forget to bow before your ancestors and enjoy some delicious songpyeon.
The question is rather interesting. The moon is very significant for chuseok, not in the least because chuseok's date is set by the lunar calendar. Chuseok is always August 15 by lunar calendar, when the moon is said to be biggest and brightest. Songpyeon, a type of rice cake that is the highlight of chuseok food, is shaped to mimic the shape of the moon. But how big of a role does the moon play in modern celebrations of chuseok?
Probably the right answer is: not as big of a role as it played traditionally, but still a very significant role. It is true that in the modern days, people rarely have celebrations that are explicitly connected to the moon, like ganggangsullae [강강술래] -- a communal "moon dance" where people (usually women) sing and dance in a circle under the chuseok moonlight.
 |
| Ganggangsullae under the moon (source) |
However, although modern Koreans rarely engage in chuseok celebrations that are explicitly connected to the moon, chuseok is still very much thought of as a type of moon celebration. Koreans still constantly refer to the bright chuseok moon. For example, in last week's episode of the hit reality show "I am a Singer" [나는 가수다], one of the singers quipped about the fact that he had to sing a song callled "The Moon's Ruin" [달의 몰락] on the chuseok weekend. Also, a quick Google Image search for the word 추석 results in a lot of images that feature the moon.
With that said, enjoy the chuseok moon everyone. The Korean Family will cook up some Korean party food, invite some people over, and look into the full moon as well.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Thursday, September 08, 2011
Ask a Korean! News: "There is No Hines Ward in Korea"
Last month, this blog featured a Wiki post about how a biracial Korean fared in Korea. One of the most informative comments came via email from Mr. Sajin Kwok, who was the project leader for the National Human Rights Commission's 2003 study on biracial Koreans who were born between American soldiers stationed in Korea and Korean women through rape, prostitution or consensual dating.
While searching for the report (which is available online here,) the Korean came across a feature article that nicely summarized the background of how the report came to be, and gave a more vivid description of the discrimination that biracial Koreans have faced in Korea. Below is the translation.
THERE IS NO HINES WARD IN KOREA
["대한민국에 하인즈 워드는 없다", May 23, 2006 on Kyunghyang Weekly]
At 5:40 a.m., 47-year-old Park Myeong-Su, a biracial person who live in gijichon [TK: neighborhood near the U.S. base in Seoul] leave his small room of about 35 square feet to visit a construction company's office for day labor jobs. He waits all day, but there is no job for him. Even setting aside his Caucasian looks that he inherited from his American G.I. father, there is no place for him here, where jobs are doled out based on how close you are with the office manager. Park, who has always been discriminated as a biracial, says his personality does not let him make friends very easily. Because of the discrimination that followed his entire life, he developed a sharp edge.
Better Atmosphere, but Nothing Changed
If he whiffs at the office, he begins drinking -- even in the morning. He has nowhere to go, so he comes back to his small room. He would turn on the TV and drink silently, only to have the memories of discrimination that he has received his entire life bubbles up in his mind. He can only knock back the glass, not knowing how, where to pour out his swelling anger.
This is Park's life, as can be seen in the documentary "There Is", filmed for two years by director Park Gyeong-Tae. The audience who screened the documentary at a small theater near Hong-Ik University could feel the rage held in Park Myeong-Su's heart.
When the biracial hero Hines Ward visited Korea last month, Korean society roiled with attention toward biracial Koreans. The legislature proposed policies to assist biracial Koreans every day, and the government presented a comprehensive plan for biracial Koreans by the end of April. Although the fad had passed at this point, but it is a very positive phenomenon that the society recognized the issue.
However, the fundamental problem remains unsolved. Director Park says each time the biracial Korean issue emerged for the last 50 years, there was a policy to assist them -- and asks what changed. He notes that the issue of biracial Koreans at gijichon was always missing an important element. This is the point at which the director presents the issue -- the importance of tracing the origin of Park Myeong-Su's reality, his persecution complex and his anger. Director Park focuses on how the results of discrimination manifest themselves, and asks what went wrong.
Perhaps because the society changed, or perhaps because Mr. Park has gotten older, there is no one who actively discriminates against him now. But that does not erase away the discrimination that Korean society imposed upon him for decades. When he was younger, Park was frequently beaten for his looks, with ridicules of "twigi" [TK: "mixed breed"] and "yangnom" [TK: "yankee"]. He could not attend school, nor could he find a job. The pains of the past is connected to Park's present. He could not find work even if he wanted to; he barely survives in his 35-square feet hole.
If he happens to meet the eyes of a passerby, he torments himself with a persecution complex. The person might not think of anything, but Park thinks to himself, "That person is looking at me funny." Each time that happens, he reminds himself of his identity: "I am a Korean." When he drinks, the pent up anger in his heart explodes, usually in a violent form.
He was not this bad while living in America. Thanks to Amerasian Immigration Act of 1982, he moved to America in 1986 and lived for a decade. He briefly visited Korea, and found himself unable to return to America. In America, no one looked at him funny. Park says he could not communicate, but his heart was easy. He wants to return to America if he could.
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
While searching for the report (which is available online here,) the Korean came across a feature article that nicely summarized the background of how the report came to be, and gave a more vivid description of the discrimination that biracial Koreans have faced in Korea. Below is the translation.
* * *
THERE IS NO HINES WARD IN KOREA
["대한민국에 하인즈 워드는 없다", May 23, 2006 on Kyunghyang Weekly]
At 5:40 a.m., 47-year-old Park Myeong-Su, a biracial person who live in gijichon [TK: neighborhood near the U.S. base in Seoul] leave his small room of about 35 square feet to visit a construction company's office for day labor jobs. He waits all day, but there is no job for him. Even setting aside his Caucasian looks that he inherited from his American G.I. father, there is no place for him here, where jobs are doled out based on how close you are with the office manager. Park, who has always been discriminated as a biracial, says his personality does not let him make friends very easily. Because of the discrimination that followed his entire life, he developed a sharp edge.
Better Atmosphere, but Nothing Changed
 |
| (Above) Park Myeong-Su (Below) Hines Ward and then-Korean president Roh Moo-Hyun |
This is Park's life, as can be seen in the documentary "There Is", filmed for two years by director Park Gyeong-Tae. The audience who screened the documentary at a small theater near Hong-Ik University could feel the rage held in Park Myeong-Su's heart.
When the biracial hero Hines Ward visited Korea last month, Korean society roiled with attention toward biracial Koreans. The legislature proposed policies to assist biracial Koreans every day, and the government presented a comprehensive plan for biracial Koreans by the end of April. Although the fad had passed at this point, but it is a very positive phenomenon that the society recognized the issue.
However, the fundamental problem remains unsolved. Director Park says each time the biracial Korean issue emerged for the last 50 years, there was a policy to assist them -- and asks what changed. He notes that the issue of biracial Koreans at gijichon was always missing an important element. This is the point at which the director presents the issue -- the importance of tracing the origin of Park Myeong-Su's reality, his persecution complex and his anger. Director Park focuses on how the results of discrimination manifest themselves, and asks what went wrong.
Perhaps because the society changed, or perhaps because Mr. Park has gotten older, there is no one who actively discriminates against him now. But that does not erase away the discrimination that Korean society imposed upon him for decades. When he was younger, Park was frequently beaten for his looks, with ridicules of "twigi" [TK: "mixed breed"] and "yangnom" [TK: "yankee"]. He could not attend school, nor could he find a job. The pains of the past is connected to Park's present. He could not find work even if he wanted to; he barely survives in his 35-square feet hole.
If he happens to meet the eyes of a passerby, he torments himself with a persecution complex. The person might not think of anything, but Park thinks to himself, "That person is looking at me funny." Each time that happens, he reminds himself of his identity: "I am a Korean." When he drinks, the pent up anger in his heart explodes, usually in a violent form.
He was not this bad while living in America. Thanks to Amerasian Immigration Act of 1982, he moved to America in 1986 and lived for a decade. He briefly visited Korea, and found himself unable to return to America. In America, no one looked at him funny. Park says he could not communicate, but his heart was easy. He wants to return to America if he could.
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Are the Japanese Stealing Kimchi?
Dear Korean,
Is it true that Japan is making a Japanese version of the Korean Kimchi? I heard that the Japanese are calling it Kimuchi and hailing it as part of their own culture.
Bryan
The Korean previously explained that Korean nationalism drives many Koreans to truly stupid lows, like having a testosterone-fueled rage over women's figure skating or brutally killing pheasants with a hammer. But among the many different instances of nationalism-induced stupidity, this "kimuchi" thing might be the stupidest. Allow the Korean to state this as clearly as possible: this is a non-issue over which only the dumb people are worked up.
Yes, the Japanese are making kimchi. They call it "kimuchi", in an attempt to pronounce "kimchi" in Japanese. And kimuchi tastes different from kimchi, because the Japanese make it in their style. This is what happens the world over -- food travels, changes, and gets a different name.
Unfortunately, one can be a nationalist, or one can be a nationalist and a dumbass. And when the nationalists who are also dumbasses see the Japanese making kimuchi and let their paranoia run wild -- "Oh noes, the Japs are stealing our food! Now I'm going to have to write hateful shitpile on the Internet!" Never mind the fact that there is absolutely none, no indication that the Japanese intended to steal "kimchi" and claim it to be their own.
Recall that the Korean is writing this as an insane Korean food purist. He thinks that 95 percent of "Korean restaurants" in the U.S. do not deserve the descriptor "Korean." He thinks most of Seoul's restaurants serve cattle feed. But not even the Korean is insane enough to think that the Japanese are somehow trying to steal kimchi. The Korean might not recognize the Japanese imitation of spicy pickled vegetables as kimchi, but he is not delusional enough to think that the Japanese are trying to steal something.
(Aside: the Korean did lose his shit when a fancy restaurant near Seattle served "prawn kimchee salad" that had nothing that even remotely connected the dish to being a kimchi -- no salted vegetables, no fermentation, no spice, just prawn and arugula salad with some kind dressing. It was delicious, but it was not kimchi.)
The bad thing about dumbasses is that if there are enough of them, people who should know better cater to them. (See, e.g., extended warranty programs, Michelle Bachmann.) In this instance, the prime culprit is the newspapers that are quite content to manufacture a controversy. So we have articles like this -- in Korea's most-read newspaper, no less -- that try to play the same game with makkeolli (Korean rice wine) one more time by pointing out that Japanese breweries are now producing their own version of makkeolli, named "matkoli." (Again, the Japanese pronunciation of the same word and not renaming.) The article is a bald appeal to stupidity: "The Japs are trying to steal makkeolli by pronouncing it 'matkolli'! Just like they tried to steal kimchi with kimuchi! To arms, Korean people!"
But the more interesting part of the article is the comments, which are overwhelmingly critical of the article for being "narrow-minded", "alarmist", "filled with inferiority and victim complex," etc. Elsewhere in Korean Internet, the reaction is about the same. Dumbass nationalism in Korea may create a lot of sound and fury, but at the end of the day, most Koreans recognize them to be stupid.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
Is it true that Japan is making a Japanese version of the Korean Kimchi? I heard that the Japanese are calling it Kimuchi and hailing it as part of their own culture.
Bryan
The Korean previously explained that Korean nationalism drives many Koreans to truly stupid lows, like having a testosterone-fueled rage over women's figure skating or brutally killing pheasants with a hammer. But among the many different instances of nationalism-induced stupidity, this "kimuchi" thing might be the stupidest. Allow the Korean to state this as clearly as possible: this is a non-issue over which only the dumb people are worked up.
Yes, the Japanese are making kimchi. They call it "kimuchi", in an attempt to pronounce "kimchi" in Japanese. And kimuchi tastes different from kimchi, because the Japanese make it in their style. This is what happens the world over -- food travels, changes, and gets a different name.
Unfortunately, one can be a nationalist, or one can be a nationalist and a dumbass. And when the nationalists who are also dumbasses see the Japanese making kimuchi and let their paranoia run wild -- "Oh noes, the Japs are stealing our food! Now I'm going to have to write hateful shitpile on the Internet!" Never mind the fact that there is absolutely none, no indication that the Japanese intended to steal "kimchi" and claim it to be their own.
Recall that the Korean is writing this as an insane Korean food purist. He thinks that 95 percent of "Korean restaurants" in the U.S. do not deserve the descriptor "Korean." He thinks most of Seoul's restaurants serve cattle feed. But not even the Korean is insane enough to think that the Japanese are somehow trying to steal kimchi. The Korean might not recognize the Japanese imitation of spicy pickled vegetables as kimchi, but he is not delusional enough to think that the Japanese are trying to steal something.
(Aside: the Korean did lose his shit when a fancy restaurant near Seattle served "prawn kimchee salad" that had nothing that even remotely connected the dish to being a kimchi -- no salted vegetables, no fermentation, no spice, just prawn and arugula salad with some kind dressing. It was delicious, but it was not kimchi.)
The bad thing about dumbasses is that if there are enough of them, people who should know better cater to them. (See, e.g., extended warranty programs, Michelle Bachmann.) In this instance, the prime culprit is the newspapers that are quite content to manufacture a controversy. So we have articles like this -- in Korea's most-read newspaper, no less -- that try to play the same game with makkeolli (Korean rice wine) one more time by pointing out that Japanese breweries are now producing their own version of makkeolli, named "matkoli." (Again, the Japanese pronunciation of the same word and not renaming.) The article is a bald appeal to stupidity: "The Japs are trying to steal makkeolli by pronouncing it 'matkolli'! Just like they tried to steal kimchi with kimuchi! To arms, Korean people!"
But the more interesting part of the article is the comments, which are overwhelmingly critical of the article for being "narrow-minded", "alarmist", "filled with inferiority and victim complex," etc. Elsewhere in Korean Internet, the reaction is about the same. Dumbass nationalism in Korea may create a lot of sound and fury, but at the end of the day, most Koreans recognize them to be stupid.
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
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