2007 Korea by Bike

KOREA BY BIKE 2007 PART THREE
(Scroll down for part one and part two)

Waiting for the sunset.

Waiting for the sunset, too.

Sunset

First you choose your fish or gross-looking creature of the sea.

Then they cut it up for you, and you take it across the alley to the restaurant...

Then you eat it raw.

The next day we returned to the south of the Tongyeong, and asked this guy, who charters weekend fishers, to take us to an island. Just pick a cool one, we said, and he shrugged, "Just tell me to stop at an island that looks good to you."

We nearly stopped at a couple, but were glad we waited because this one looked good.

The bow had a big tire on it, so he could just drop people who wanted to fish off on rocks, leave them there for the day, and pick them up later.

We stood on the rock and said good bye to the charter man, who shrugged and said "Call me on your handphone when you want me to pick you up."

There was no path really from the rocks inland.

Right when we got to a path, we found an old deserted school house. Most of the islands around there have dwindling populations. The young married couples go away to cities for the kids education and never move back. So, no need for this school anymore...

All overgrown.

Slide.

The pedestal says "Books are the food of my soul".

Playing.

Graceful.

This is where the principal or class president would stand and address the kids.



We'd been talking about Wonder Woman, which was Shinhye's favorite TV show as a kid. So, she suddenly.

There where lots of tumble-downs around the island. And no kids to take advantage of them with a day of swords.

We walked down the path until we came to the little village.

Harbor.

It looked like Corfu, but felt slower.

We met the women who hang out in front of the shop.

They didn't want their pictures took, but Shinhye charmed them, and they relented.

The woman in the purple vest really didn't want her picture took, however, and so she hid behind her friend's chair.

There were many old, traditional Korean houses that were deserted.

Some were amazing (click to make bigger). But I think they forgot to tape the parts they didn't want the paint to drip on...

And others really well painted and kept up.

This little fellar followed us, then ran away whenever we got close, then turned around, looked at us and, much to our surprise, said "You kids ain't from round here, are ya?"

You can dry your fish next to your whites.

When we asked the old women if there was anything to see on the island, they all said "no", except one who said "Well, they built some stairs to a beach on the other side some years back." So we went to this great beach, that looks like no one remembers. There was even a forgotten rubber dingy that was happy to see us.

The water's cut through the rocks, making little canals.

Looking disappointed cause it was still way too cold to swim. But we'll go back in June.

Hello.

I really wanted to swim.

Rowing.

It's a fake smile that means "If you rock the boat and I fall in, I'll kill you."

Hello little dude. Actually, their little eyes are positively satanic.

Et in Arcadia ego. As mom would say, not enough lions.

The mud walls don't last long if not kept up.

This is when we started wondering, if all the houses are deserted, how much it would cost to buy one...

Cause you could retire in a worse spot.

The guy who chartered our boat, told us to call whenever. We sat in the harbor contemplating not calling him at all, watching this fisherman tie up his boat, having a beer, when he, the charter man, drove up.

Oh, and there where some sand dollars just sitting on the dock.

Goodbye, little island. See you soon!


PART TWO


In Masan, his bar is named after a famous, suicided Korean folk singer (Kim Kwang-suk) who was adored by the 80s student protesters. (I never got why the students turned him into a symbol of protest, because his music wasn't political or, it must be said, very good. Mostly slow weepers. But then they were good for song circles maybe.) So I thought it was time for a little something.

In the bar, I met this table of kids, only two of whom knew who Kim Ju-yul was. The owner (playing guitar) did of course. We stayed late, singing songs and drinking, and I experimented with gravity on the way to the hotel.

I went to the official 3.15.1960 memorial.

Kim Ju-yul's mom.

I couldn't get a good shot, but these displays were really cool. Check out the little molotovers on the bridge.

Behold the font.

After the Masan, the protests spread across the country, climaxing in a huge one in Seoul, unprecedented in (not "by", right?) the participation of hundreds of university professors. Rhee Syngman quit and moved to Hawaii. Korea had a few months of increasingly more chaotic democracy (the protesters became righteous and cocky, and had demonstrations whenever they didn't like something, which was often. The politicians became scared of them, and the country started becoming worse off, maybe, than it had been under the corrupt Rhee regime) So Park committed coup, in 1961, and remained in power until he was assassinated by his security chief in 1979. Democracy wasn't gained until 1987 (some say it wasn't till the 90s).

It's kind of predictable that all the memorials to the various people's revolutions in Korea are always either very abstract, or Socialist Realist. Still moving though.



A shrine to some of those killed.

Including Kim Ju-yul.

Here's a song called "Friend" by a real protest singer, Kim Min-gi (김민기), who spent years in hiding, and now runs a successful theater (as in plays). Excuse my bad translation...

If rain falls
on the deep green shore
How can one tell sky from sea?

If one sinks slowly
into that deep sea
What is life and what is death?

I see my friend
his face rises,
flickering above the scattering leaves

I hear my friend
his distant voice calling
Only the running wheels of the train reply

(There's more about Kim Ju-yul in the first post, for context)


The graves of some of the victims. But wait, what's that in the tent on the top of the hill?

Can it be...?

Yes, that's right. Above the graves, overlooking the memorial, they constructed an outdoor gym. So I had a go.

Outside the memorial, a little Righteous Korean makes his mark in support of the Chosen People. I got your back, little man. Shalom haver.

The beer factory at the foot of the 3.15 memorial. Very pretty (I'm serious). I rode my bike all around the big factory, unmolested. I would have, however, preferred to have been offered a sample.

Mmmm, beer.

On the way from Masan to the cute little town of Jinhae ("Welcome to Jin Hae" sign courtesy of Lion's Club International, which Hamas in their charter reminds us is a Zionist conspiracy.)


In Korea, they heat the floor to heat the house. It's amazing. But when you stay in a really cheap hotel (the kind with shared bathrooms) this is what you find. The customers turn the heat on so high it burns the floor. In three days I couldn't get it to cool down.

Old friends, Mitchell and Dong-ju, came from Canada to Pusan for vacation, and I was able to spend one night drinking with Mitchell and only 30 minutes playing with their adorable kids. We were supposed to meet for longer, but alas...

Mitchell and DJ's son feeds me a cracker. He was very pleased with his ability to do so, and I ate many crackers.



A famous old coffee shop, formerly a hang out for artists and other miscreants, now a place for no customers at all. Sad, and probably to be sold soon.

Inside the cafe, a booth for the classic music playing DJ.

Umberto monkeying around.

Inside Black and White coffee shop.

Very quaint, European style post office.

Destination.

Bike and nets.

I love these things (again, I'm serious).

Kim Shinhye came to Tongyeong to play.

The view of Tongyeong harbor -- "the Naples of Asia"? -- from our hotel.

Tong Yeong is famous for this kimbap, which keeps the rice separate from the squid and vegetables (they're usually wrapped up together) to avoid spoilage. Shinhye made us go to there everyday, sometimes twice a day. I have no say ever in where we eat.

Every "Tongyeong Kimbap" shop has a sign that says "The original". We asked the owner of the one we went to "Why does every shop say "The Original Tongyeong Kimbap"? "They're impostors", she told us.

When the Japanese invaded in the 16th century, Korea's most famous military man, Lee Soonshin, built a navy -- the Japanese controlled the land too well -- to take back the country. Included were these "Turtle Ships", the world's first and impressive, most impressive ironclads.

We took the ferry to Hansan Island, were Lee Soonshin waited and built a navy during the Japanese occupation.

On the island, there were no people and many wheelchairs, so I pushed Shinhye around for an hour. I'm just resting here.

As we were rollilng along on our rocking stroll along the harbor, there were suddenly loud marching footsteps behind us, and these guys clomped by.

Turns out it was actually Lee Soonshin's birthday, and these Navy officers and some kinda admiral came down to pay respects to the Man.

I shoulda lifted that briefcase by my feet. No doubt full of top secrets.

Very cute weeding women.

You read about it if you click on it.

Lee SoonShin's poem, while he waited and planned. Not a bad poem, too.

From where Lee SoonShin heard the shrill whistle.

The view of the harbor.

A map of the Battle. He sent out a decoy to lure the Japanese, then whamo, say hello to my turtle ships, sushi lovers!

Lookin' good.

Lookin' undeniably stoopid.

Tongyeong was the hometown of the avant garde composer Yoon Lee-sang (윤이상, usually spelled Isang Yun). Our hardworking friends at Wikipedia tell us (read the last couple paragraphs at least):

"Yun was born in Chungmu (now Tongyeong, South Korea) in 1917, the son of renowned poet Yun Ki-hyon. He began writing music at the age of 14, and began studying music formally two years later, in 1933. He studied at the Osaka Conservatory, and composition under Tomojiro Ikenouchi in Tokyo from 1938. After Japan entered World War II, he moved back to Korea and participated in the Korean independence movement. He was captured and imprisoned by the Japanese in 1943.

"After the war, he did welfare work, establishing an orphanage for war orphans, and teaching music in Tongyeong and Busan. After the armistice ceasing hostilities in the Korean War in 1953, he began teaching at the University of Seoul. He receive the Seoul City Culture Award in 1955, and traveled to Europe the following year to finish his musical studies.

"In Paris and Berlin, he studied contemporary music under Pierre Revel, Boris Blacher, Josef Rufer, and Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling. He attended International Summer Courses of Contemporary Music in Darmstadt, and began his career in Europe with premieres of his Five Pieces for Piano and Music for Seven Instruments. His music was recognized for its fusion of East Asian and Western classical musical traditions. The premiere of his oratorio Om mani padme hum in 1965 and Réak in 1966 gave him international renown.

"He first visited North Korea in 1963[1], and returned there several times after 1979, and promoted the idea of a joint concert featuring musicians from both Koreas, which finally took place in 1990. Yun settled in West Berlin in 1964, and, in 1967, became involved in the "East Berlin spy incident". On June 17, he was kidnapped by the South Korean secret police, along with his wife I Soo-ja and many Korean students in West Berlin. He was taken to Seoul, condemned for espionage and sentenced to life imprisonment. A worldwide petition led by Igor Stravinsky and Herbert von Karajan was presented to the South Korean government, signed by approximately 200 artists, including Luigi Dallapiccola, Hans Werner Henze, Heinz Holliger, Mauricio Kagel, Josef Keilbert, Otto Klemperer, György Ligeti, Arne Mellnas, Per Nørgård, and Karlheinz Stockhausen.

"Yun I-sang was released and exiled in 1969, returning to West Berlin. He was not allowed to visit South Korea again."

After 1987, most of these so-called spies were rehabilitated, even celebrated, in South Korea.

Our map said there was a "Yoon Lee-sang Street" at the location of his childhood home. We went looking, and found this crappy old sign on the edge of a empty lot (you can click on the image above to enlarge).

We asked around helplessly at corner stores, trying to find the exact location of his house. Finally, we found the approximate spot, and this guy on the roof who kept trying to point out the location, but he wasn't talking, just pointing. So that's me looking around stupid going "Huh? Over here?"

I finally realized the location of the house was right under my nose. The rock base between the kids and I used to have a plaque on it that read "This was the location of Yoon Lee-sang's house." Someone, the old man told us, had knocked it off in the middle of the night. That was it, a forgotten rock base. Really sad.

While we were looking at it, these kids came up and asked us what we were doing, and we talked to them for awhile.

They told us they hated their "rotten" neighborhood, and asked us to by them candy. It was a pretty miserable neighborhood, but hopefully the park they're planning to build will cheer it up a bit. They adored Shinhye, and wouldn't stop playing with her hair. Meanwhile, they mocked in a way that recalls Elisha of old (Second Kings 2:23-24). No bears were forthcoming, however.

Turtle by night.

Viking ride on streets of the Naples of Asia!

Horsey ride, too!

We went for a walk around the south part of Tong Yeong Island to gape at the little islands that dot the south coast of Korea.

Our path was abruptly and rudely blocked by this sign - for military only, no entry. The hell with you, military!

Me with Islands. They looked so good we decided to go to one the next day.

At the bottom of the path there were trenches.

...and tattered decoy army men in the to trick the North Korean spies watching from their subs off the coast, and who I hope aren't reading this.

Deserted dugout.

More to come, comrades!


----------

KOREA BY BIKE 2007 PART ONE

Buying necessary deodorant at a black market stand (it's unavailable in Korea - Koreans just don't stink like that).

Starting off.



Shinhye rode with me to the edge of the city. It was a long ride for her, and she quoted Sam: "If I take on more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been."

A middle-aged drum circle along the Han River, with inspiration from soju and makoli. (More talent here than in a Grateful Dead parking lot, that's for sure.) I kept waiting for the monster (괴물) to swoop down and drag a drummer of to its lair - you can't ride next to the river, let alone buy something at a riverside kiosk, without thinking about that movie.

Just outside of Seoul, there's a long strip of "theme" motels along the river.

Lonely, disappointed flags protesting the Korea/US FTA agreement across a desolate bridge(The agreement was signed last month, but still needs to be approved by the Parliment). The farmers will be the hardest hit, and this area is nothing but farms.

"Down with the Korea/US FTA!"

Last year on the same road, a little boy - 이성우 - helped me when I got lost by running aside my bike for more than an hour as he directed me to the correct road, and chatting along the way. This year I stopped by what I guessed, from the proximity to the country road I met him on, was his school. It was indeed, but he'd moved "to Incheon," one of his little friends said. "That's five hours by bus, but a looooong time by bike!"

When I rode into the school grounds, it was deserted except for one little boy who was playing in the dirt with his back turned to me. When I rode up beside him and said hi, he took one look at me, got up, and ran as fast as he could. When I talked to the teacher, and all the other kids came out, he finally came around too. He's the one I'm picking up.

The determined little flowers are slowly coming out, out of place if encouraging. 삼천리 강산에 새봄이 와요

I rarely see outdoor dogs treated well in Korea. They're either in nasty little cages like this with weeks of accumulated crap under them, or on ropes that are literally two feet long - rarely longer. These two had had a lot of open sores. Little lap dogs, on the other hand, are fawned over, clothed, carried around in purses, and dyed pink and green. Every time I see them I want to cut the leashes of the big ones, and drop kick the little ones.

In 1960, there was a rigged election to keep the president, Syngman Rhee, in power. A fairly small southern town, Masan, protested at the obviously phony results, and was crushed by the police. The amazing thing was the protest were led by students - high school and middle school kids poured out of their schools and marched through the streets. Among the slogans they chanted was "Where are our university brothers and sisters? Why have you deserted us?". Many of the students were killed. (Those are students in uniform in the picture.) The university students finally came out weeks later in Seoul, and from then continued to be the driving force for democracy in Korea.

After the initial protest ended, and while the government in Seoul was blaming the whole business on "Reds", one woman came to Masan to look for her son, Lee Ju-yul, who had been boarding in Masan while preparing for exams, and who had disappeared during the protests. She stayed for weeks, asking around, putting up posters, desperate for news.

The day after she returned to her village, a body floated up in the harbor, a tear gas canister in its eye. As people gathered around the body, they started yelling "It's Lee Ju-yul!". The cops, who'd tied a stone to it and dumped it into the ocean weeks before, took the body for an ostensible autopsy. But the outraged city, again led by the younger students and pushed to the edge with the news of Lee Yu-yul's decomposing corpse, took to the streets once more, this time outside the morgue and the police station. The first round of protests had simply not been enough, and as the news of the Masan demonstrations grew, other protests spread across the country, eventually leading Rhee Syngman to resign and flee to Hawaii. / I sat with an old man on the 46th anniversary of the day they found Lee Ju-yul's body. As they were giving speeches, he turned to me and, clutching the anniversary pamphlet in his hands, said, "You know, Lee Ju-yul is our symbol for the struggle for democracy in Korea." We had been talking together about Lee Ju-yul for an hour, and he knew I knew who Lee Ju-yul was. It seemed like he just wanted someone, a foreigner maybe, to get it, to confirm it by saying it.

A small shrine, next to the spot where his body was found. It took me an hour to find it; sadly but not surpisingly no one actually knew where it was. I had planned to arrive in Masan to be there for the anniversary of the day his body was found, and was surprised to find a small ceremony of around a hundred people. The squigley lines on the top say 315 - March 15, the day of the rigged elections and the first protests.

The approximate spot, but the land has been reclaimed. The shrine is in the parking lot of a port warehouse and an industrial complex.

Someone seemed to have hopped the fence the night before and had a little ceremony - they left their dixie cup candle holders, melted wax, and an offering of fruit.



There were a handful of speeches, none of which I could follow.





I wasn't the only one to ride my bike there; these guys put flags on to commemorate the anniversary.

Not far away is the 4.19 탑 - a small monument and park to the April 19th Revolution (the original elections and demonstrations were on March 15th, Lee Ju-yul's body was found on April 11th, and the Final, huge demonstrations in Seoul were on April 19th).

Those are kids in their school uniforms, and an older man.

Behind the monument, some old guys drink soju and makoli at noon, and, it's pretty to think, contemplate their long struggle for democracy and freedom, but probably not. I meet a professor at the ceremony who participated in both the early Masan protests, and then weeks later the demonstrations in Seoul that brought down the Rhee goverment. He said, "We had a tragic history." When I tried to spin it with, "Ah, but you won," he looked at me and said "Isn't Korea still divided?"

이사하다요

Alec is engaged in leaving the building, for the building has sucky templates. 여기에 놀러오세요 (Link fixed)

A Couple of Days in Tokyo

Nice.

Apple, We Have a Problem

If you're an Apple retailer, I'd suggest this is not the way to endear yourself to the company. Our own (unofficial, I think) Apple store in the COEX Mall, Seoul. Not an iPhone, not iTV. Nope, hand painted Nazi toy soldiers. Jobs would not be amused.


Check out Adolf in the balcony.

Christmas

Korea by Bike

The route I took. The dots show where I took a bus, the first time to avoid a mountain range, the second one, from Pusan to Jindo, was because I spent too long playing in Andong and Fukuoka, so I needed to skip some part.

Trying to get the bags packed and organized.

Umberto says goodbye to Taro and Lulu.

An overloaded bike and an overweight Alec getting a late star. About 25 percent of the baggage and 3 percent of the weight would be tossed or lost in the next four weeks. Across the Han River you can see the golden 63 building, Korea's tallest.

Shinhye road with me along the river until the evening.

A skate park on the edge of Seoul. I got a late start, and Seoul is so big that riding along the river trying to get out of the city takes hours. I was determined to get as far out as I could, so I rode until nearly midnight.

The second day, only a few minutes out of Seoul's built-up suburbs, I saw this 13th century beurocract's tomb. I thought I was lucky to stumble on it, and spent an hour there walking around and resting.

The view from the tomb. You can see the bike leaning on the building (click on the image to make larger).

Just 50 or so miles south of the border, the Han River makes a natural defense against another fratricidal war. I road along the river for a couple of days, and their were army exercises everywhere. As I walked through these tanks, I overheard the soldiers, who were too shy to stop me from taking pictures themselves, saying to call the interpreter. I pretended, of course, I didn't understand what they were saying to each other, and kept taking pictures. The interpreter eventually came running over, carrying his machine gun and sweating, and said "Please, Sir, no pictures." I said "아, 알겠습니다. 죄송해요." He realized he'd been had, hung his head and walked back to his tent while his friends on the tank laughed at him.

Tank.

There are so many military exercises along the river they need to put up signs like this.

I guessed the geomancy or feng shui along the Han River must be good for burying your ancestors, because the tombs were everywhere. Or I guessed visiting your ancestors was easier if you buried them near Seoul. But as it turns out they're everywhere all over the peninsula. I'd see new ones every few minutes on almost every road, and if you were to travel by car the Korean scenery must look like a big blur of mountains and tombs. (On a bike, the mountains do not blur by. More like drone). They make for good if spooky camping spots though.

If you're a god son or daughter, there are a couple of holidays a year where you bring the family out to the plot. There were dozens of little tombs at this one spot, a couple hundred meters up from the road.

In a nice bit of luck I spotted a sign for the tomb of Sejong the Great, Korea's greatest king, the King James to Korea's writing system, which is, they tell me, the only planned writing system and the world's most logical. It was meant to replace the difficult and undemocratic Chinese characters (only the educated had the thousands of hours to learn to read) and it succeeded: you can learn to read it in a few hours. It really is a fantastic system, and Korea has a national holiday for the writing system, like Americans have "flag day" or Fourth of July. / It's a pleasant park with a crap museum.


That's Seojong's little mound of dirt on the hill, no bigger than your great grandfathers. Sure is more tasteful than the Washington monument.


In May they smoke the rice fields to keep the bugs off. This ajuma (middle aged married woman) was really sweet, Where are you going? That's too far! You'll never make it; you have to many bags!

I stopped to talk to these two little guys near a bus stop, waiting to go home from the town with their school. It was dusk, and they'd been playing all afternoon. I mentioned I was lost, and Sung-ooh, the one on the left, said if I followed him to his village, which takes an hour and a half from here, he'd show me the road. "But I have a bike, you're walking." "That's OK, I can run beside you," which is just what he did, all the way home. / Along the way he told me about his school, his teacher ("Who is not married and I can introduce you...") and how he sometimes walks all the way home from school. Sung-ooh says the whole country side is full of ghosts who come out after dusk, so he tries to get home before then. His mom ran off a few years ago. He's never heard from her, and doesn't like her. His dad is really cool though. Many, many people in his village have died of cancer (I have no idea what that meant, but I think it was probably like two).

It was dark when we got there; this was with a flash. That's his little brother and gorgeous sister. I bought him some OJ. / If you want to be an English pen-pal, and inspire any of them to study hard and get off the farm, I've got their address.

The next day I spent a few hour trying to find a shop that could fix a problem with my gears. When I was done it was to late to start off again, so I backtracked to Sung-ooh's village to see if he was around. He'd come home early that day. That's his dad in the background, and he didn't look so cool to me; he wouldn't say hi.

I bought a beer at the little shop, and drank it by some tombs in Sung-ooh's village.

This is a poster for some weird nationalistic cult - there was a whole display and a convert happily passing out pamphlets. The poster says "The Korean peninsula is the center of the world's feng-shui!". The peninsula is also shaped like a fetus, whatever that means. They also incorporate Buddah and Jesus, among others.

A bar in Yeo-ju, "Hongdae University Bar", named after my neighborhood in Seoul. Tell them you're from Hongdae, you get the free whiskey. Nice.

Trying to out stay in front of the rain along a beautiful river.

I got lost here, but it was OK.

These guys invited me for a post-farming bottle of rice wine. When I asked about the rain they said "Soon," so I had to turn them down.

Only to get my first (and only) flat. I hadn't changed one since I was 12. It sucked.

Chungju. This guy is a far-left member of the Korean Assembly, maybe the only member who dresses traditionally (the left, unlike the States, is often really nationalistic in Korea). He's often gets in fisticuffs in the Assembly, over the FTA or rice tariffs or whatnot. But I was pretty disappointed in his politician's moves (phony smile, business card) and that, as a friend of the working class, he needed this dude to carry his umbrella.

A reusable mini-series set. It's actually really authentic, more than the government funded, working traditional villages around the country.

Korea is incredibly mountainous, or big hilly. The great majority of my trip was up plodding up a big hill, an exciting trip down the other side, five minutes of flat, and then repeat the whole thing. I was fairly in shape when I started, from riding an hour or two a day for a few months in preparation, but the first week of the trip was a struggle. Later the hills just were just annoying: boring, tiring, and they took a long time to get to the top of. Good music helped.

I stopped at a little Temple. A bewildered monk peeked out a window at me, frowned, and closed the window. I went and walked around temple and the grounds, which were laid out really attractively.

Even the kimchi pots were little rows. (You ferment and store kimchi stuff in them, sometimes buried in the ground, the whole winter. But about six years ago someone invented with kimchi refrigerators, so goodbye cute custom.)

After a half hour a car pulled up full of monks. Female monks - I hadn't noticed that the one in the window was a woman. We talked for awhile, and, when they asked me where I was staying, I said "My tent somewhere." They'd never had a foreigner come to the temple before, and a man to boot, but they invited me to stay, but warned me I'd have to get up at 3:30 for prayers.

Two monks were staying in here, doing some serious unknown meditation or prayers, for most of the day, and for weeks at a time.

Just farms around the temple.

Say a prayer and leave a little Buddha statue at the base (click to make it bigger).

They wouldn't let me take their pictures, which was too bad because they were kind, adorable, and I would've like to remember their faces. Oh well, I guess life is suffering. I shot this from the hip, the only shot with a body in it, and it turned out pretty nicely. / The food, dinner and breakfast, was fantastic. I had traditional tea with two of the monks after dinner, which was second only to waking up at three to the sound of one monk walking the grounds chanting and beating whole notes on a drum. I sat outside and watched her slowly walk around the grounds. The praying, in the temple, involves cow-towing over and over. I don't know how long they go for, but my legs - pretty strong from riding the bike - quit after 40 minutes, but the monks had told me to stop whenever. Breakfast and time to ride to Andong:

This is Andong man, mascot of Andong!

When Shin-hye was young, her father, a pastor, started a small congregation for the poor, which impoverished the family (but everyone was poor in Korea then). Her parents had to send her to her grandmother's house in the country for a few years, and so as a five year old kid she had the run of a little rural village, and the mountains and streams around it. She disappeared in the morning, scrounged lunch at someone's house or a restaurant, and came back to her grandmother's home before dark. Nobody worried about her. / She met me in Andong and we took the bus to her village, Un-san. Here's the - new - train station.

The writing on this house says "Gone to the hospital." And a phone number. The house looks like it's been deserted a long time.

Shinhye's grandmother had an apple orchard - there were a few little ones around the village. These are the old boxes that the villagers used to use for apples, discarded now for cardboard.

And an old soju bar. I'm surprised no one wrote "moved to the city" on the side.

The Andong soju museum. The guide spoke in English, and he was excited and nervous to practice because some American general was coming the next week. The stuff they distill here is really good and has double the alcohol content. Shinhye found out the hard way.

Soju.

Dam.

Man. I prefer Andong Man. This guy looks like North Korea Man.

A little army pillbox, again on the south side of a river.

Who could resist? Not we.

Since 1982 indeed.

In joy the jung gle gym with a little Andong Soju.




Shinhye posing.

A traditional village, 하회마을, that is thought to have invented the Korean mask dance. The government subsidizes some of the villagers.

Paper doors, but the under-the-floor heating is Korea's greatest invention. Water pipes (previously just buring wood or coals under the floor) criss cross under the floor, and as hot water goes through them, the floor heats up (it can get hot enough to kill someone who's passed out drunk on it). Heat rises, so that works well, plus, most people (me too) just throw a blanket or two on the floor and sleep like that. No cold beds, and no cold feet on bathroom runs. (click on the picture and you can see where they load in the wood under the paper doors)

Outhouse.



An old aristocratic mayor (more like feudal baron) thought the village's geomancy wasn't just right, so he planted this grove of trees. Thanks, feudal baron!

The village is on a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by a little river.



Fantastic vegetable pancake, makkoli rice wine, and the Atlantic.

Adam and I went to this village in 1998, and we played with this little girl at the restaurant her parents own. All grown up.

Oops. Here's the little woman who's house we stayed at in the traditional village. She hadn't had guests in forever, and scrambled around trying to find bedding and whatnot. She was really sweet, but when she saw some dress Shinhye was wearing, she said really scornfully, "Bah, that looks Japanese." Later another villager told us that the old woman can speak Japanese fluently. So we figure during the occupation she'd learned Japanese like everyone else (they made Japanese the official language, and Korean was in many cases illegal) but must've had some pretty bad experiences like everyone else. Here she won't let me take her picture. Not in a Buddhist way, like the monks, she said rather "I used to be beautiful, now I'm not."

Shinhye went home, I got on my bike and saw this sign for a temple, and turned right.

The whole complex is carved into the side of a mountain.

We are all individuals!

I'm not!

There was monk (again female) and a cook/handywoman who lived there. They invited me to dinner, but said nothing about sleeping, so I pushed on to find a place to camp.

Some of the tombs, or probably most, are out of sight of the roads. Sometimes there is just a little dirt path by the highway, but if you turn off you often find on of these. Great for camping, if you don't mind the ghosts. This was the scariest night, because I heard these creepy moans off in the distance again and again. I told myself it was some kids, or drunk adults, who'd spotted my tent and were trying to give me a spook. Finally, I realized it was cows on the other side of the hill.

My shower invention.

Dinner of bananas, peanuts, and soju. Sit on the turtle and watch the sun go down, wearing a Star Trek uniform.

Perfect spot.

No photographer, I couldn't get a shot of how great the sunset was, and I didn't stop to enjoy it because I was taking pictures. Life is suffering.

Breakfast. Food started tasting better and better after the first week, and became so exciting that I wanted to remember each meal and took pictures of it; mine, mine! Like Christmas. Especially after a dinner of bananas and peanuts. Sometimes I ate three of those bowls of rice.

Outside Gyeongju. Many people over thirty or forty grew up on farms. You see these little plots near cities, and I figure you can take the farmer out of the farm...

Gyeongju was an ancient capital of Korea, and there are tombs and temples everywhere, really. I saw this little path and walked up it...

...opened this gate...

...and found these. They're twenty or thirty feet high.

An old woman saw me taking pictures in some little village near Gyeongju. She pointed to a path up a mountain and said 가, Go, go! I went up the path fifty yards and found a little pagoda, took a picture and came back down. I said thanks, that was nice, but she said 아니, 가, 가, Goooo! She didn't want to accept that I could understand Korean, but it was obvious she wanted me to go the whole way up.

It took forty minutes to get to the top, but every ten yards on the way up there were tombs on the side of the path. All kinds: big ones, tiny ones, ancient and overgrown ones, new ones. Some were so old you almost missed them, and there must have been many that are now just impossible to notice. On the way down, I counted, intentionally not trying to look for them, 64.

And at the top this old Buddha carved into the side of the mountain.

An old couple lives at the top of the mountain. " ...Nobody comes up here anymore, especially not foreigners." I have no idea how they get up and down.

An hour outside of Gyeongju I looked up and saw I was surrounded by huge tombs. I later read that there is one king buried here, but they made dozens of tombs, big and small, to stop the tomb raiders.

At the top of another mountain (alas, no noticeable tombs on the way up) a little guy welcomes you after a long hike - those are coins on him.

And the reward, Buddha and friends carved into the mountain.

The caretaker's huts.

I guess he lives here all alone with his dog. He just nodded at me when I said hi, looked down, and kept sawing.

The thanks for a lifetime of farming is a ninety degree back.

This one's right in the middle of downtown. Some guys getting drunk and yelling in mocking English, "Hey you! Drink, drink!" No thanks.

Shipyard. Park Chunghee agreed to Japanese reparations in the 60s, took the money, and built a town to produce steel and boats - Pohang. This isn't it, but it's nearby, and it looks like this. He made the country rich for sure, but on the backs of the workers. http://english.chosun.com/w21data/html/news/200509/200509070015.html

My first sight of the ocean.

Fisher people drying little anchovies in the sun.

I met only two other people touring on bikes, a Germanish guy, and this Japanese guy. He looked exhausted after two weeks of roughing it. Even his flag looks tired. I'm sure he had a great time, even though Koreans can be really rude when they hear a Japanese accent.

Big. There was no way to position myself to get the whole field of them in the frame.

Shinhye met me again, and we took the ferry to Japan.

In 1980, there was a massacre of students by the military government in Gwangju, which people compare to Tianamen Square. More dramatic, if not as many as many deaths, and because of a press blackout and (at the very least) slow condemnation from the US, unheard of in the west. Like China today, no one really knew the details for a long time, although there were rumors. With the coming of democracy in 87, that changed, and now the massacre is observed every May 18th. Here are some of the leading politicians meeting in Gwangju. In the middle here, pretending to care, is the daughter of the dictator Park Chung-hee, and probable next President of Korea. During the ceremony, someone started an old student protest song. Mrs. Park, an apologist for her father's policies, was the only one who refused to sing along and, and instead reviewed her notes while all the other politicians sang. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwangju_Massacre

An empty Irish bar in Fukuoka.

Real good beer.

I wanted to watch the Japanese kids have PE class. Shinhye, who lived in Japan for seven years, was less interested.

Walk up tequila bar. Get your shot at the window, drink it, and go. Efficient.

An old coffee shop whose owner hasn't changed the interior in forty years.

And who sharpens her pencils with a knife.

And who liked Shinhye so much she gave her a pretty ribbon.

Bar.

Bar. Like Korea, guests can leave their bottles of booze on the shelf if they don't finish, and drink it next time. Note the notes on each bottle.

Stairs to a little upstairs room.

Korea's English bookstores are really bad. Japan's are good.

This becomes...

That. For eatin' and drinkin'.

Mod shop.





This is a sport for drunk salary men. Try to fish hook an eel!

Back in Pusan, Korea, where I lived for six months in 1998. This was a filthy little convenience store by our house. Apparently it was so dirty no customers came, so they gave up and just live there with their kittens in cages.

The roof of our apartment.

For Adam.

The bridge and the clean market...

...with the sweet owner who remembers you even after eight years.

This is a sit, as opposed to squat, toliet.

Jindo Island. I was especially excited to go here because of the unique breed of dogs that evolved or were breed on the island - the Jindo dog. They are really loyal (if you get one, they say, you should never give it away, because they are bred to only have one master. They are confused and miserable in new homes), territorial and smart. They're a numbered national treasure, and it's illegal to take them off the island, although people do.

Jindo Research Center.

Dogs.

The sad part of the island was that the people on Jindo treat the dogs really badly. Here's a dubious breeding farm I found on a dirt road (see him poking his head out?).

And all the dogs, like in Seoul, are on miserably short leashes.

Election time in Korea. So you get your truck and your LOUDspeakers, a few soccer moms for volunteers, and give a speech to a deserted intersection. Every town it was the same for a week (there's a limited official campaign period). The best though is when they play the candidate theme song and the soccer moms dance and sing along to the empty intersection.

The "wellbeing" craze in Korea started with the usual - health food, natural soaps - and now includes well-being soju and smoky, damp, dark internet cafes.

Dancing in the rain.

Riding up the steepest hill of the trip, in the rain. When I asked directions at a store, they laughed at me and said "no way can you ride up that mountain". Half way up I was cursing myself for not listening.

The only Jindo dog that wasn't on a leash.

That was his border, he ran up the road to me, and stopped there.

Just some pagoda by the side of the road. Stop and read your book and have a beer because it's on the back side of the mountain and by God you earned it.

An official breeder.

The famous and ugly Jindo bridge. Notice the statues of dogs that guard Jindo.

It was not no kilometers, but like 50.

The single worst thing about the trip: trash everywhere. I read somewhere that Koreans are super nationalistic, but they don't seem to love their country. Not true of course, but it's one way to think about it.

My homemade rain covers.

Those are all white vending machine coffee cups. This small dam was a mile long, and the length of it was covered in coffee cups. I never found the machine.

As the trip went on, I started running out of money. So I would go into a restaurant in my most dejected face and say "Can I buy just a bowl of rice?" Every meal in Korea comes with side dishes of vegetables and other little things, so I counted on the owners' generosity. They never let me down, and often I didn't have to pay. I was taking pictures of every meal at this point.

Again, a lifetime of farming.

I realized this is the only picture of me on my bike. Look, Mom, helmet!

A family doing prayers to a dead ancestor. All the fruit and vegetables and the pig's head are laid out as an offering. They were friendly, but didn't want me to take pictures, so I had to shoot this one quietly, so no pig's head.

Boats.

The ramen here cost two bucks, and they gave me free rice and a fish the owner said was caught that day. I ate dinner and breakfast here.

In little villages, the old women come together at various times of the year to pool their back-breaking skills. I never figured out where the men are. Not working in the fields anyway. Who needs 'em.

Tombstones for sale.

That says "Monkey School," which is probably what the teacher thinks of his students. It's a normal after-school tutoring institute, almost every kid goes to three or four.

Back in Seoul, along the river.

Home is 100 meters.

Full circle, and nobody seems to have moved at all.

\로동신문 《<다민족,다인종사회>론은 민족말살론》

(평양 4월 27일발 조선중앙통신)27일부 《로동신문》은 《<다민족,다인종사회>론은 민족말살론》이라는 제목으로 된 다음과 같은 개인필명의 론평을 실었다.

최근 남조선에서 우리 민족의 본질적특성을 거세하고 《다민족,다인종사회》화를 추구하는 괴이한 놀음이 벌어지고있다.
이 소동의 연출자들은 남조선이 미국인 등 여러 인종의 피가 섞인 《혼혈의 지역》이라느니, 《페쇄적인 민족주의 극복》이니, 미국과 같은 《다민족국가의 포용성과 개방성》이니 하는 황당한 설을 들고나오고있다.

말마디자체도 민족적감정에 칼질하는것이지만 보다 엄중한것은 이 반민족적인 《다민족,다인종사회》론이 벌써 론의단계를 벗어났다는데 있다. 이미 지금까지 《단군의 후손》,《한피줄》,《한겨레》 등을 강조하여온 초등학교,중고등학교교과서에 2009년부터 《다인종,다민족문화》와 관련된 내용을 포함시키며 《국제결혼가정》,《외국인근로자가정》 등의 용어도 《다문화가정》으로 바꾸기로 하였다.

민족적분노를 금할수 없게 하는 말그대로의 망동이 아닐수 없다.

결론부터 말한다면 남조선의 친미사대매국세력이 운운하는 《다민족,다인종사회》론은 민족의 단일성을 부정하고 남조선을 이민족화,잡탕화,미국화하려는 용납 못할 민족말살론이다.

민족은 력사적으로 형성된 민족성원들의 사회생활단위이고 운명공동체이며 해당 민족은 다른 민족과 구별되는 특성이 있어 민족으로 존재하는것이다. 사람들의 운명과 사회발전은 민족과 떼여놓고 생각할수 없다. 민족성은 개별적인 사람과 사회발전에서 중요한 무기로 된다. 하기에 모든 민족이 자기의 고유성을 귀중히 여기고 우수성을 부각시키며 그것으로 민족성원들을 각성,단합시키는데 힘을 넣고있다. 《세계화》의 물결이 어지럽게 범람하는 오늘날 그에 대처하여 민족성을 더욱 내세우며 그 보호의 장벽을 쌓으면 쌓았지 스스로 부정하는 나라와 민족은 없다.

지배주의와 식민주의가 약소민족들의 운명을 위협하는 현실에서 우리 단일민족의 고유성과 우수성을 부정하는것은 민족의 정신무장해제를 설교하는 반역행위이다.

《다민족,다인종사회》론을 제창해나서는 남조선의 친미매국세력은 민족관과 사회력사발전에 대한 초보적인 리해조차 없는것은 물론 한쪼박의 민족의 넋도 없는 얼간망둥이들이다.

단일성은 세상 어느 민족에게도 없는 우리 민족의 자랑이며 민족의 영원무궁한 발전과 번영을 위한 투쟁에서 필수적인 단합의 정신적원천으로 된다. 민족의 단일성이 그처럼 귀중하기에 그것을 살리기 위해 우리 겨레가 피와 목숨을 바쳐 장구하고 험난한 통일의 길을 걸어온것이며 지금은 애국의 열정을 다해 6.15통일시대를 가꾸어가고있는것이다. 민족의 단일성을 살려나가지 않는다면 미국의 지배주의책동앞에서 민족도 개개인의 운명도 지켜낼수 없으며 독도령유권주장에 비낀 일본반동들의 재침기도도 막아낼수 없다. 《다민족,다인종사회》론의 반민족성은 바로 민족자체를 부정하고 나라와 민족을 제국주의자들에게 내맡긴다는데 있다.

온 겨레가 힘을 합쳐 갈라진 조국을 통일하고 단일민족의 존엄과 위용을 높이 떨치자고 하는 때에 남조선에서 민족부정론,민족말살론이 나왔다는데 보다 엄중한 문제가 있다. 지금은 북과 남이 60여년간의 분렬을 끝장내고 민족의 구조적인 단일성을 확립해가는 자주통일시대이며 이 시대의 대세는 《우리 민족끼리》이다. 《다민족,다인종사회》론은 이 시대의 기본리념을 거세하는 독소이고 반통일론리이다. 남조선에서 겨레의 지향에 배치되는 반민족론이 제창되는것은 명백히 북과 남을 혈통이 서로 다른 지대로 만들고 6.15통일시대를 가로막으며 민족을 영구분렬시키려는 《한나라당》을 비롯한 친미족속들의 범죄적인 기도와 미국의 배후조종의 결과이다.

남조선에서 제기되는 혼혈인문제에 대해 말한다면 그것은 전적으로 미국의 남조선에 대한 군사적강점의 산물이다. 이러한 비극적현실을 끝장내기 위해 미군철수의 기치를 들지는 못할망정 오히려 그것을 사회화하려 하고있으니 얼마나 쓸개빠진자들인가.

남조선에서 민족적수치와 분노를 금할수 없게 하는 《다민족,다인종사회》론이 공공연히 나돌고 그것을 현실에 적용하려는 움직임이 나오고있는것은 세계를 일극화하려는 미국의 범죄적책동이 얼마나 위험한것인가를 그대로 보여준다.

남조선의 각계각층 인민들은 주체성과 민족성을 저버린 나머지 우리 민족의 혈통마저 흐리게 하고 민족자체를 말살하려는 사대매국세력의 반민족적책동을 단호히 배격하여야 한다.그리고 우리 민족제일주의와 《우리 민족끼리》의 기치를 더욱 높이 들고 민족을 지키고 통일을 이룩하기 위한 애국투쟁에 적극 떨쳐나서야 할것이다.(끝)

샀어! 성공이다!

여행자전거 드디어 샀다.
움베르토도 자전거 여행좋아해.

통잡지에 실린 엄마에의 편지에서

십년 전 뉴요커 잡지의 ‘이 주의 화제’ 기사는 어떤가요? 왜, 비틀즈 멤버들 중 누구를 가장 좋아하느냐가 가장 효과적인 성격 테스트라고 했던 거 말이에요. 엄마는 정신없이 내 방에 들어와서는 당신이 그 누구보다도 비틀즈를 사랑하지만, 좋아하는 멤버가 딱히 없다고 그랬죠! 무슨 대단히 중요한 것을 빠뜨린 것 마냥 슬픈 표정을 지으셨어요. 일주일 동안 비틀즈의 맴버들을 떠올린 뒤, 엄마는 나와 커트 형을 거실로 불렀어요, “난 조지를 내가 가장 좋아하는 비틀즈 멤버로 선택했다!”고 큰소리로 말씀하셨지요. 우리 둘 다 엄마가 좋은 선택을 했다고 생각했고요.

Tilley, Eighty Years Later

A Korean Lady's "Secret Mission"

흠- 그렇다면 한국은 여성 총리를 갖게될까? 최윤희 사건을 계기로 아마! 우연히도 오늘<뉴요커> 잡지에서 다른 한 선구자적인 여성 "Louise Kim" (아카 김영신)에 대한 글을 읽게 되었다. 한국전쟁이 일어나고 바로 일주일 뒤, <뉴요커>에 갑자기 부쩍 한국에 관련된 엣세이가 늘었다. 이 나라가 도대체 어디지? 한국인들은 어떤 사람들 일까? 왜 우리가 그곳에 싸우러 가는거지? 사설들, 소설, 인터뷰들, 조각 조각의 사실을 실은 글들 그리고 침략 두 주후, 전쟁 발생 당시에 남한 외교관으로 있던 김영신에 대한 이 짧은 글도. 내가 가장 맘에 들었던 구절은 "나 또한 이곳을 정탐할 임무를 띠고 있지만 물론 그게 무엇인지를 밝힐 수는 없어요." 나 또한 이곳을 정탐할 임무를 띠고 있지만 물론 그게 무엇인지를 밝힐 수는 없어요! ~

Homesickness, 2002

3년전에 일년동안 한국에세 살았어. 그대 매일 Wilco의 "Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrot" CD를 드렀어. 메일 길에 도라단일데 그CD를 들어면서 고향에대헤서 생각했다. 친구, 가족, 엣날여자친구, 항국생활에대헤서 생각했다. 일년동안 Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrot 나의 OST 이였다. 오늘 옛날 New Yoker 관(issue?)안에 같은 생각 읽었다.

아찍또 지지하지?

황
우
석
I had a 10 year student whose dream was to be a scientist. He had a picture on his bedroom door of Hwang Woo-suk, and he used to say "My dream is to be a great scientist like Hwang Woo-suk!". I haven't taught him for a year, but I wonder what his parents tell him now. Does he still have the picture on his door? And what about these kids, whose father dragged them along to this march to support the disgraced scientist on March 1st? What misshapen morals will the kids take from this display?

Help - Bicycle Touring in Korea

한국에서의 자전거여행에 관한 정보를 찿도록 도와달라고 한국인 친구에게 부탁했더니 그녀의대답인즉 "아무도 실제로 자진거로 전국여행을 하거나 하진않아. 왜냐하면 그러기에 한국은 산이너무 많거든." 그럼에도 불구하고 네덜렌드에서 온 이 사나이는 한국의 전국 곳곳을 다녀간듯하다 (그가 다녀간 루트는 보라색으로 표시되어있다). 그렇지만 그는 외국인이다. 한국인에 의한 전국 자전거여행에 대한 정보가 분명 있을 것이다. 만약에 누구든지 자전거 여행 가이드 책자나 자전거로 다닐 수 있는 길이 표기된 지도, 또는 자전거여행 웹사이트나 모임, 신용할 만한 자전거 (용품)점을 알고있는 사람이 있다면 부디 아래의 코멘트란에 정보를 남겨 줬으면 하는데 잘부탁합니다! (김훈에 대해서는 이미 알고 있지만 그의 글은 내가 읽기에 너무 어려운듯... 더많은 정부를 목을 길게 빼고 기대하고 있어요!) Thank you, People of Korea, Friends of the Revolution!

토요일 밤

오늘밤에 소히 공연 봤고 만원 밖에 없었어 집에서 OB 하고 토스트 하고 Complete New Yoker 랑 놀았어.

Opps, I thought she was a hostess!

Chosun Ilbo: "It is shameful if a key party official sexually harasses a journalist in front of witnesses. It is more shameful if the official, like Rep. Choi, previously headed a branch of the domestic and sexual violence office at the East Sea branch of the Korea Legal Aid Center for Family Relations. The scandal tips over into farce with the lawmaker’s innocently pleaded excuse that he did it because he “thought she was the owner” of the bar. Presumably he means it is perfectly acceptable to fondle the breasts of bar owners and that he has been doing so all his life." The cartoon show Kim Dae-jung, who was recently mocked by a conservative politician as having Alzheimer's, pointing to Choi and saying "Now there's dementia for you!" 왼쪽: 권인숙, 1986

The New Yorker's Brokeback Mountain

Brokeback Mountain was originally a 20 page story in a 1997 issue of the New Yorker magazine. Last week the New Yorker parodied the movie poster with Bush as Jack and Cheney as Ennis... 원래 브로크백 마운틴은 1997년 뉴요커 잡지에 20페이지로 실렸다. 지난주에 뉴요커 표지에 부시가 잭 체이니 애니스로 패러디 했다. 나이스!

탑골공원 3.1.2006

휴일을 혼자놀기 할 수 있는 아저씨들럼, 나처럼

A Long Weekend in Taiwan

The top of the tallest building in the world, Taipei 101, is regularly engulfed in clouds.


And the poor security gaurd on the top floor is engulfed too. Nobody wanted to pay extra to go outside, so it was just he and I.


Before Taiwan, I had never been to a pleasant English bookstore in Asia. This one was so nice, and had such a good selection, I stayed for hours.


Chiang Kai Shek (장계석) Memorial Hall.


I'd prefer to work on top of the tallest building in the world, engulfed in wet clouds and cold air. At least you can scratch your nose.


The kids perect their dance moves in the the reflection of the Chiang Kai Shek's big windows.


And their flag dancing in the pavillon.


Mei's Teashop. Good for hours of reading. Mei가 영어 잘 해!


The neighborhood around Mei's Teashop has great 365빌딩 같은 architecture, and cafes, and delicious 포장마차.


A little bar with a liitle balcony for reading and drinking.


Beer and the New Yorker and a view of the kids drinking in the park.

유화정책

A 1939 cartoon: "알았지... 사탕하나 줄테니까 그만 집에 가야해...." 하지만 나찌들은 집에 안 갔어. 만약 한번 양심을 저버리면 상대는 더많은 것을 기대하며 다시 손을 벌린다.

Newport Island

9살 때부터 17살 때까기 나는 이 집에 살았다. 우리의 집은 항구가 있는 작은 섬에 있었다. 그 곳은 겨우 100가구 뿐인 섬이었다. 여름이 오면 거의 매일 작은 항구에서 친구랑 수영을 했다. 밤에는 몰래 베란다에서 술을 마셨다. 우리는 오직 사탕을 사러 가게에 갈 때만 그 섬을 떠났다. 마침내 작년 봄, 미국에 돌아갔다. 나는 그 당시를 기억하는 마음으로 고향섬을 돌아다녔다...

Mike Watt

http://hootpage.com/

the first rule of life is to have a good time

"Against high odds and at whatever cost in private anguish, he has wrested a good time from the world - no mean prize. He has also succeeded in passing the only test that matters: he has given back to the world more than he has taken out of it." - Brenden Gill writing in a review of a biography of Philip Johnson, but he might as well have been writing about himself, as he did here:

"In fact, not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the argument that life is serious, though it is often hard and even terrible... Since everything ends badly for us, in the inescapable catastrophe of death, it seems obvious that the first rule of life is to have a good time; and that the second rule of life is to hurt as few people as possible in the course of doing so."

'눈에는 눈' 은 오직 이 세상 전체를 장님으로 만들 뿐이다.

'눈에는 눈' 은 오직 이 세상 전체를 장님으로 만들 뿐이다. 모세오경에 "눈에는 눈, 이에는 이" 라는 구절이 있다. 해를 당했을 때 똑같은 형태로 '보복' 하는 것을 의미함.

우리의 상황은 이러하다 : 이 세상 거의 모두는 만유의 창조자가 한 권의 책을 썼 다 라고 믿고 있다. 우리의 불행은 자신만의 무류성無謬性 같은 양립 불가능한 주 장을 만드는 여러 '한 권의 책'들을 손에 갖고 있다는 것이다.

모하메드를 모사하는 것이 금기라고 실상 코란은 말하지 않는다. 또한 예수를 오줌탱크에 넣는 것이 죄라고 성경은 말하지 않는다. 만약에 신이 있다면 오직 그 만이 이러한 행위들이 죄인지 어떤지알고 있을 것이다. 만약에 사람들이 그들의 특정 창조주가 쓴 그들의 특정 책의 그들의 해석에 의해 죽음과 판결을 선고하도 록 한다면 이 세계는 붕괴할 것이다.

An Egyptian newspaper actually published the same cartoons in October, without generating any protests. Apparently, such protests are limited to European countries.

The New Yorker

The Complete New Yorker DVD set 받았어. 4,000 관, 75 년. 너무길어서 평생읽어도 다 읽을 수 없을거예요.... 하지만 3권의 New Yoker 잡지 평전을 사서 한권은 다읽었고 두번쩨 책을 읽고있어요. 한국사람들은 New Yorker 잡지에대해서 잘몰라서 같이 얘기 할 수 없어.... ㅠㅠ

"why not?" 하고 "scotch and soda" 밖에 필요없다!

리스마스 선물로 이책(Tete a Tete, de Beauvoir and Sartre)을 우리 어마니 한태서 받았어. 우리어머니도 그책을 읽고 어떤잡지위해서 수필(book review)을 썼어... Sartre는 영어를싫어헸어서 몇단어만 배웠어: ‘Scotch and soda?’ 하고 ‘Why not?’"... 이단어들만쓰면 잘못 할 수 없을 거예요"....

우리 어머니 수필: "On the cover blurb of Tete a Tete, Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre, someone declares, "I couldn’t put it down." ...I didn’t have any problem putting it down. This is not a page turner. However, I found myself picking it up right away—and then wondering why. Can you like a book about two people who are, let’s face it, not all that likeable? ......