(Poem #287 on new numbering scheme)
In times before our epoch's end when alligator songs were chanted in the swamps and groves, swarms rioted in throngs.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
(Poem #287 on new numbering scheme)
In times before our epoch's end when alligator songs were chanted in the swamps and groves, swarms rioted in throngs.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
(Poem #286 on new numbering scheme)
If anything becomes like graves it might be buildings. They can stand for longer times than those who made them, grim and gray.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I learned this phrase at work yesterday. I guess it’s kind of an aphorism, but it’s a slang-based, very modern one.
김정은이 중이 때문에 못 처들어오다
kim.jeong.eun.i jung.i ttae.mun.e mot cheo.deul.eo.o.da
Kim Jeong-eun-SUBJ 8th-grade because-of cannot invade-come-INF
Because of 8th graders, Kim Jeong-eun cannot invade.
Basically, the idea is that “kids these days” are so narcissistic, disrespectful, etc., that the dictator to the north doesn’t dare invade the South. It’s just not worth the hassle of dealing with the kids. The Korean expression 중이 (8th grade / 8th grader) is a kind of shorthand for referring to the the typical disaffected, disrespectful and self-centered nature of early teens, including the slang 중이병, meaning “8th grader disease,” as a kind of stand-in term for the characteristic mental health issues of puberty and adolescence.
Thus all the international panic about the North’s belligerence is overblown. It just can’t happen, see? We’ve got the kids to protect us.
[daily log: walking, 5km]
(Poem #285 on new numbering scheme)
The moon's dull disk, above, now seems unreasonably gold. The teeth of time's wheels make me feel unseasonably old.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
"What are you waiting for? Start procrastinating today! You won't regret it." – Me. Just now.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
(Poem #284 on new numbering scheme)
As hopes proclaim their roots and sprouts, each tendril rashly curled, the ordinary blooms of need unfold across the world.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Jack said, "Teacher! Finish!"
By this, he meant he was finished. Jack is not a high level student. He's a low-level student, even in the context of a low-level class. I think he's a fifth grader. I looked down at Jack's quiz. He'd answered maybe 6 of the 20 questions. So his maximum possible score was 6/20 – if there were no mistakes, which I couldn't be confident of.
I said, "This is terrible."
Jack said, fairly quickly, "I am terrible because you teach me that way."
He was grinning up at me as he said it. I knew immediately that he meant it as a joke.
And it blew me away. Not because it was effectively an insult. I have a pretty casual class, anyway, and in the spirit of communicativeness, the kids know I overlook what Korean teachers would not tolerate. No, I was blown away because it was probably the first fully formed, coherent English sentence I'd ever heard Jack articulate.
In fact, I felt quite pleased, because it vindicated exactly that open spirit of communication I tried to foster. Once he had something he wanted to say, he decided to say it.
I laughed. "I see. We'll have to work on that."
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
(Poem #283 on new numbering scheme)
This speck of dust did not attempt to cross the gulf that yawned between my window's dirty sill and all the world beyond.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Korea voted for president yesterday. I was quite confident already that the left-leaning candidate, Moon Jae-in (문재인), was sliding to victory. The right has been in disarray since the scandals broke around Park Geun-hye last year, and her impeachment and removal from office a few months ago, leading to this accelerated presidential election schedule, somewhat guaranteed that the electorate would swing leftward.
The main right-leaning candidate for the new Liberty Party (the previous Saenuri Party, trying to rebrand itself in the wake of the scandals), Hong Jun-pyo, didn’t help matters by having Trumpesque crude sexist language come to light in his own past, including bragging about a date rape while in college. I had one coworker tell me that she would normally vote Saenuri (i.e. conservative, and probably, I speculate, because of her evangelical religious affiliation), but she couldn’t vote for Hong because he was “repugnant and disgusting.” I can only wish that US evangelicals could have been more morally upstanding vis-a-vis Trump.
So the conservatives shot themselves repeatedly in both feet, and the normally minority liberals wafted into the presidency, despite almost everyone disliking Moon almost as much as Americans seem to have disliked Hillary Clinton.
If one thinks in terms of policy and ideology, I also suspect Moon’s position was strengthed precisely because of Trump’s victory in the US. The Koreans deeply distrust Trump because of his being on the record to reevaluate the US “protection” of South Korea. Thus Moon’s stated intention to reexamine the relationship with the US probably resonated as well. How all this plays out vis-a-vis North Korea, I can’t really say. My instinct is that, to the extent the US and South Korea are NOT getting along, the North Koreans will be pleased and therefore LESS likely to do anything dangerous. So in fact my personal feeling, which is perhaps misplaced optimism, is that Moon’s election will be good for lowering tensions with the North.
Having said all that, I want to return to something I looked at during the last election cycle: the ghosts in the electoral map.
Moon’s victory map seems to parallel the 900AD “Late 3 Kingdoms Era” (후삼국시대 [husamguk sidae]) in Korea. Look at the two maps: the conservative “rump” in the southeast is later Silla, long past its glory days, while new Baekjae and the ascendant Goryeo dominate the peninsula – see the maps along the right.
I was thinking about this “ghosts in the map” idea because I also ran across someone who mentioned that Macron’s support in the recent French presidential election eerily paralleled the Plantagenet lands (i.e. English control) in 12th century France – see the maps below.
[daily log: walking, 6.5 km]
(Poem #282 on new numbering scheme)
The spirits bodied forth on walls, incarnate desires swarmed all into crevices and cracks with mutant, feral forms.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
My student was tasked with a typical "Type 1" TOEFL speaking question which prompted (roughly), "What is the most remarkable book you have read?"
He spoke coherently and in detail, for the allotted 45 seconds about a book entitled "The Diaries of Mr X."
Apparently, this book is about a student who makes many mistakes. It sounded a bit picaresque, as he described it. It has a tragic ending (suicide), but it is also uplifting because it presents things humorously. My student said he learned a lot from the book about what sorts of mistakes a middle school student should avoid, during the difficult years of puberty.
The thing is, this "book" was invented by the student on the spot.
In fact, I have many times told my students that on an "opinion question" on the TOEFL Speaking section, it is probably quite okay to lie, if it is the easiest thing to do in the moment, as long as the lie is plausible. Clearly one shouldn't lie on the summary of facts presented in other types of questions – that would cost points – but when it's a matter of opinion, one should definitely take the path of least resistance.
Indeed, in discussing this issue, I have often given the example of the quite similar prompt, "What is is your favorite book?" I try to expalin that if I were taking the test, I would never answer my true favorite book (Persiles by Cervantes), because that book is not commonly known, it's not in English anyhow, and it would be hard to explain anything about it in 45 seconds allowed. Instead I would speak broadly and generically about some anodyne prototype that would be familiar to just about anyone, such as Harry Potter. But with respect to the issue of lying specifically, I say that if one is "stumped" in the moment, don't be afraid to fudge the facts of your beliefs and preferences. Fluency counts for more than "truth," anyway. There is no way a test evaluator can know if the book being spoken about is real or not – it's not as if that person is going to go search the internet and try to verify the book's existence or compare its plot to the one presented by the test taker. They are doing a job of evaluating your spoken English, and probably are on a tight schedule (I have heard less than 2 minutes allowed per question response scored).
My advanced students have always understood the point I'm trying to make, but most of them are uncomfortable with that kind of creative improvisation.
Until last night. Certainly, I never had a student use this strategy quite so skillfully. It was downright Borgesian, in a kind of stumbling, accented, Korean-middle-school way.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
(Poem #281 on new numbering scheme)
Sometimes I try explaining things; I am misunderstood. I still digress and divagate my words a trackless wood.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
El Hombre Imaginario
El hombre imaginario
vive en una mansión imaginaria
rodeada de árboles imaginarios
a la orilla de un río imaginario
De los muros que son imaginarios
penden antiguos cuadros imaginarios
irreparables grietas imaginarias
que representan hechos imaginarios
ocurridos en mundos imaginarios
en lugares y tiempos imaginarios
Todas las tardes imaginarias
sube las escaleras imaginarias
y se asoma al balcón imaginario
a mirar el paisaje imaginario
que consiste en un valle imaginario
circundado de cerros imaginarios
Sombras imaginarias
vienen por el camino imaginario
entonando canciones imaginarias
a la muerte del sol imaginario
Y en las noches de luna imaginaria
sueña con la mujer imaginaria
que le brindó su amor imaginario
vuelve a sentir ese mismo dolor
ese mismo placer imaginario
y vuelve a palpitar
el corazón del hombre imaginario
– Nicanor Parra (poeta chileno, b 1914)
Parra todavía vive, a los 102 años. Es un buen logro, por un hombre imaginario.
[daily log: walking, 7km]
(Poem #280 on new numbering scheme)
An incantory angel's wings, with luminescent plumes, descend upon your muse, like snow, disguise what she assumes.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I found this aphorism in my aphorism book.
호랑이 보고 창구멍 막기
ho.rang.i bo.go chang.gu.meong mak.gi
tiger see-CONJ window-hole block-GER
[Like] blocking the hole in the window after seeing the tiger.
The “hole in the window” refers to the old-style paper windows, which are translucent but not transparent. People would poke holes in them, to be able to look out. So the tiger is right there – you see him through the hole in the window. To be safe, you block the hole. Good plan.
Basically, this might be the same as the American proverb “A day late, a dollar short.” A moment when it’s too late to solve some problem or prepare for some dangerous contingency.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
(Poem #279 on new numbering scheme)
The bird shoves time out from its nest; it, stone-like, falls and sighs. Tic-toc, tic-toc - it spins and flaps, until at last it flies.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I invented this tongue-twister. It's not the twistiest possible tongue-twister, but it's twistedly topical.
The dems don't doubt the Donald's debauched douchebaggery, disregarding his diligent but dubious denials of dinosaurian demogoguery.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
(Poem #278 on new numbering scheme)
The clouds adopted purple robes, brought early summer's night, began to shred the stars' bright flesh, dispersed gems into white.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I posted this song a few years ago, but I didn’t include the lyrics. So here it is again.
What I’m listening to right now.
The Flaming Lips, “Ego Tripping At The Gates Of Hell.”
Lyrics.
I was waiting on the moment
But the moment never came
All the billion other moments
Were just slipping all away
(I must have been drifting) we’re just slipping all away
(Just ego-tripping)
I was wanting you to love me
But your love it never came
All the other love around me
Was just wasting all away
(I must have been tripping) was just wasting all away
(Just ego-tripping) was just wasting all away
(Must have been tripping)
I was waiting on the moment
But the moment never came
(Must have been dreaming) but the moment never came
(Just ego-tripping) but the moment never came
(Must have been tripping) but the moment never came
(Just ego-tripping) but the moment never came
(Must have been dreaming) but the moment never came
But the moment never came
(Poem #277 on new numbering scheme)
The ziggurats began to watch as humans dueled with saints and on clay tablets, scribes took notes about their blows and feints.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I have long thought that the direction we should be going, in terms of social welfare policy, is what is called a "Universal Basic Income." Switzerland recently flirted with the idea, via its referendum process – my recollection is that it didn't pass (but I'm to lazy to find out if I'm wrong about this).
This strikes me as something we need to talk more about, in the context of cultural sustainability and US politics. I saw this on the marginalrevolution blog a while back (great blog, but for your sanity, don't read the comments). The quote that drew my attention:
[Patrick] COLLISON: Do we just need a sufficiently obfuscated version of the UBI [Universal Basic Income] and then we’re fine?
[Tyler] COWEN: We call it "disability insurance."
In fact, this thought had occurred to me, almost exactly as Cowen phrases it, many years ago when I was still living in the US. It is flattering to have a world-class economist validate my idea – not that I would try to take credit – I only have my own memory of thinking this.
[daily log: walking, 7km]
(Poem #276 on new numbering scheme)
Today is Buddha's birthday, but I bet he doesn't care; and if he cared I think that then there'd be no Buddha there.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I am enjoying my Buddhamas holiday by finding humor on the internet. It's not letting me down.
What I'm listening to right now.
Palette-Swap Ninja, "Princess Leia's Stolen Death Star Plans / With Illicit Help From Your Friends." Palette-Swap Ninja consists of Dan Amrich and Jude Kelley. This is in the finest tradition established by Weird Al Yankovich, but I believe these lyrics surpass any of his. There is zero awkwardness in the tight adaptation of the Beatles' scansion to the Star Wars plot. Brilliant.
Lyrics (my own transcription from the on screen subtitles, with one minor correction).
* Track 1 *
It was many years ago today
In a galaxy so far away
It's a period of civil war
They don't want the Empire any more
The Rebels made a daring move
They've got some data in their hands
Princess Leia's stolen Death Star plans…
They're Princess Leia's stolen Death Star plans
She's got them and it's time to go
Princess Leia's stolen Death Star plans
The Empire doesn't even know
Princess Leia's stolen…
Princess Leia's stolen…
Princess Leia's stolen Death Star plans
We're running from the Empire
It's us they want to kill
A Star Destroyer's chasing us
We've got to get away from them
We've got to make it home
"This is madness!" mutters Threepio
But we're caught, there's nowhere else to go
If we put the plans inside Artoo
Then there's nothing more that I can do
He's gotta go find Obi-Wan
He's carrying the contraband
Princess Leia's stolen Death Star plans
* Track 2 *
Vader's here
What would you think if I boarded your ship
would you give those transmissions to me?
How can this be a real consular ship?
No ambassador that I can see
Oh, you're all spies with
illicit help from your friends
Hey, but nice try with
illicit help from your friends
You're gonna die along with all of your friends
What did you do with those plans you were sent?
I'm a diplomat from Alderaan
You're not on a merciful mission this time
But I'm hoping you'll believe I am
No, 'cause you lie with
illicit help from your friends
You're a spy with
illicit help from your friends
You're gonna die along with all of your friends
Do you need something Vader?
I want those plans in my glove
Can you see she's a traitor?
I need those plans in my glove
One pod was jettisoned during the fight
I believe you'll find the plans inside
We'll bring the passenges, all that we find
And you know that I want them alive
Oh, you're a spy with
illicit help from your friends
Mmm, and you lie with
illicit help from your friends
Oh, You're gonna die along with all of your friends
Do you need something Vader?
I want those plans in my glove
Can you see she's a traitor?
I need those plans in my glove
Oh, you're a spy with
illicit help from your friends
And they lie with
illicit help from your friends
Mmm, gonna die along with all of your friends
Yes, they're all spies with
illicit help from your friends
With illicit help from your friends
With illicit help from your friends
[daily log: walking, 1km]
(Poem #275 on new numbering scheme)
The sun has captured trees and bugs and set them all abuzz. The solstice looms and skies get wide, forget what winter was.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
I have a 7th grade student who goes by Lisa. She's pretty smart but she's a bit of a space cadet, and she will often seem to forget she's in class, and do odd things: burst into song, stand up out of the blue, that kind of thing.
At one point, she'd grabbed my collection of board markers from the tray on the whiteboard, and began arranging them in order by color, in a row on her desk. I didn't comment.
But then she was hitting some index card she held in her hand against the edge of her desk. Thwack, thwack. A seemingly pointless exercise, and bit annoying.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
For no clear reason whatsoever, she remarked, barely missing a beat: "Traditional Korean Culture."
This was a kind of joke, I suppose. The other kids found it amusing. And then it became a running gag in the class. Every time a student did something strange or annoying, I would say, "What are you doing?" and they would answer, "Traditional Korean Culture."
Justin leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, precariously. A very common activity among students of that age. "What are you doing?" "Traditional Korean Culture."
Julie lay her head on the desk, because she was suffering one of her fits of giggles. "What are you doing?" "Traditional Korean Culture."
Like that.
[daily log: walking, 7km]
(Poem #274 on new numbering scheme)
My head is full of nonsense words. In fact, I like it so. They swirl around and cluster up, and spill out, fast and slow.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.